“It's hammer time!”
Bob the Builder* #quote
Today CJ's hanging out. Anyway onto the flash fiction!
Mechanical Conviction
The worst part about being a robot is your conviction. When you set
out to do something, execute it, you follow it through. We don't
hesitate, doubt, or any of those things. Unless I just break down, I
will finish what I've been programmed to do. Even the most “sentient”
of machines like me with the most sophisticated of robotic brains
still, at the core, execute programs until completion.
And as I've walked this desolate land, I've been attempting to
finish one single order. My humanoid robot body showing damage. My
head had a face with the ability to show expressions so I can
comfortably interact with those around me, but now it the skin had a
few tears so any emotions I tried would come across through tearing
skin. From the neck down they didn't give me skin, but a smooth,
metallic surface, that didn't look creepy, but made sure that despite
my human head, everyone knew I was a machine. And that part of my
body was wearing down. While executing my current task I worked to
repair it and recharge it so I could keep going, but each time my
condition became worse. I was not a professional and all my attempts
at repair were sloppy.
My task was so simple. Deliver a message to the C.E.O. for the
company I worked for above. I was his secretary. But a bomb hit the
building. And soon bombs hit nearly every building in the city. And
nukes started hitting various cities in the country. A war broke out.
But I couldn't do much else until I finished my order. That's just
how we work. And until I had undeniable confirmation the C.E.O. was
dead I couldn't stop in my conviction to execute my task.
As I felt my mechanical legs wear away at themselves I wished I had
the human ability to give up.
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