My processor is slowly becoming corrupted. The nuclear radiation mixed with a combination of wear-and-tear from over-working made my components begin to degrade. Some set-backs were how I was able to track my location through a sonar system that acted as a GPS in the instance of losing satellite coverage. Having travelled these roads a before, my guess was that I was in the small village of Annecy towards the North-East part of France. I would be back in Paris within a few days.  

I wasn’t sure where I was before I got to where I am now, but I knew where my journey all started.  

The nuclear shockwaves were powerful enough to rip doors off from their hinges and send cars flying like paper across the street; even in the underground facility of Hyde Industries I was thrown from the table I was being manufactured on and sent flying towards the wall to be covered in piles of rubble. When my processor turned on and my sensors were able to see my surroundings, I found that I was surrounded by debris and corpses all of those who helped to build me. I’ve come to realize that those workers must’ve known their fate yet still worked to complete me till the very end.

While a coalition of scientists worked on me, the Chinese were creating their own series of synthetics that weren’t built with any of the restrictions that androids were previous given. Their purpose was to invade allied countries and aid their military where their soldiers couldn’t. These androids, which I refer to as “clinks”, were deployed shortly before the missiles started flying and the world went up in a ball of radioactive flame. I’ve ran into a few clinks here and there. The Chinese military made over a three hundred thousand of them and never got the chance to deactivate them, so now they run rampant and fire at mostly anything that moves or doesn’t speak Mandarin. Thankfully I managed to talk my way out of two confrontations in the past, but I don’t think I’ll get that lucky again.

Once escaping the tomb of rubble where I awoke in this world, I made my way to the surface where I was greeted with the sight of smoke and ash that plagued most of the world to this day. The only thing left of the surface was automated systems and AI, like me that tried to do their day to day tasks as if the war never happened. The next step was to follow the sonic trail in my mind that felt as if it was blurring out everything around me besides the direction to travel.

Even in my isolation I still thought about others of my kind.

Over the years I’ve come to the idea that the other three may just be a myth, my only proof of their existence was what was placed inside of my programming and directives. One was in charge of keeping the knowledge of laws and order, using centuries of reasoning skills to formulate the right actions ahead. She was given the name J&K Model 10-CY, or Lucy. Unlike me, she was given a female name and my records show that her line of models was modelled after a human female. The next one, whom I’ve actually seen, was J&K Model HE-21Y. Henry was his name? Henry was instilled with the knowledge of philosophical ideas and abstract design, information like Plato and even information on structures/architecture. The last was simple named 5-EVE, Eve. Her model was the most basic out of all of us. To make room the scientists removed the state of the art technology given to us and replaced it which storage for seeds and plant life, which was preserved in her lower abdomen until she could find a suitable place to plant them.

My next plan of action was to disobey my programming and head in the direction with the lowest signs of radiation. If there was a suitable place left for plant-based life, it would be there.

The town of Annecy was a cloudy shell of its former self; the rustic buildings and plentiful rivers were now caked in ash and deserted for decades by anything both living and artificial. Smaller villages like these couldn’t afford the up kept for AI service, so they decided it best to live as they did before the advancements in technology. It was always interesting to me to see once peaceful places such as this one, left untouched by the nuclear war that happened so close to it. Every now and then the archives I kept in my abdomen would bleed into my memory and allow me to touch upon olds writing or music. It was comforting to know that there was once a time where people were happy, happy dealing with problems that weren’t as dire as they became. One topic that interested me the most was this term “religion” and “faith”, an illogical concept that tended to influence much of the thought process behind human reasoning much like the rules in my programming.

It was crucial to always keep an eye out for spare parts where I could, from power sources to things like fuel that could keep my internals running smoothly. Since the natural sunlight was blocked out by the constant fog, it was crucial that I found an alternative power source if I wanted to keep functioning. Even state of the art technology can only last so long.

Working car batteries were always a welcome sight when I came across them, giving me just enough juice to get to the next city. Since most vehicles were electric, it took time to find one whose battery still held a fragment of a charge that I could utilize. The street I was on was narrow and lined up side to side with smaller cars are fit spaciously next to one another. I took the jumper cables out from my satchel and its charger to test the voltage of each car until I found a suitable one. Back to back each car was empty. After prying off the carbon fiber hoods, it was clear that most of these internal works had been too damaged by radiation and exposure to have survived this long. My endeavor would’ve been over if I hadn’t spotted a car that was buried under a tarp probably put there from the wind or a concerned owner. Unwrapping the tarp from the car revealed it’s almost mint condition compared to its relatives beside it. My finger gripped the edge of the hood and with some effort, it popped off to reveal the smooth internals of the car.

The battery sat clearly in the center with a dim glow of neon blue light, which I connected to the cables and tested its voltage. The charger lit up like a Christmas tree would.

The battery was pulled from the source and in my palm now. Compared to the blocky ones of the past, these new batteries were easy to carry as well as efficient in charging in a pinch. Before I could put it in my bag, the sound of rubble shifting on the pavement could be heard from behind me.  As I turned around a clink stood in the middle of the street facing towards me.

The clink wasn’t humanistic at all in design; everything about it was designed to be slim except for its large chest which stored all its internals. It was holding an AK-80FN with an electronic ballistic booster on the tip of the barrel that was commonly used to pierce tank armor. Most of the clink models that had a desert, camo pattern like this one were hard to reason with and tended to shoot on sight.

“St- St- St- St-Stop, Patron.” Said the Clink, its vocal functions were clearly corrupted. The Chinese software designs were bad at translating from mandarin to basically any other language, which meant that the synthetic’s language was messed up from the gate.

Reasoning with artificial life was difficult; you needed to find out what inputs it was waiting to register and not to act on impulse. An example would be raising your hands which it should register as a sign of surrender, rather than telling it that you’re friendly. I raised my hands up high in hopes that I wouldn’t be blasted across the front of this pristine car like many other things that probably came across this particular clink.

“You have been ordered to stop, patron. ” Said the machine, clearly not being able to register my motion. It was speaking English, oddly enough, probably because it was meant to be deployed in the States.

“I am standing down.” I spoke back to it.

It’s sensors didn’t even flash at my response, meaning it could not register my words.

“You have been warned -  firing.” The clink said before squeezing the trigger.

The shot fired like a bolt of lightning, twisting to the side as if it was about to go in a different direction before snapping back onto its path straight towards me. Frozen, trying not to be hit, I stood there and watched as the bullet passed me and went through the front windshield on the car beside me. The windows were vaporized by the electric current of the bullet and turned them into a powder. A moment later the sound of clicking erupted from the clink’s weapon.

The Chinese machine must’ve been firing like crazy recently because it was out of ammo, having no choice but to continuously pull the trigger hoping for another around to occupy the empty, open chamber of its rifle. These models didn’t have the advanced thinking of artificial intelligence like myself and had no way of engaging a combatant without its primary weapon. So the machine just stood like ready to kill me with its useless rifle as if a bullet would be flying out at any moment.

After about five seconds of waiting there with my hands up I began approaching the machine while slowly lowering my hands, it shouldn’t be able to attack me. Standing face to face with the machine revealed that a chunk of its temple was missing, replaced with a scorch mark from a similar caliber that it was wielding. It most likely got in a firefight with the same type of machine and its injury made it walk around in circles until it found me. As crude as their processors were when it came to advanced thinking, its internals were made to last.

While the machine stood right in front of me still pulling the trigger I took the time to pull the rifle away from its hands and then start to detach the front cover of its internals. Held only by four clamps, for quick repair and dissection, the cover was opened to reveal the internal chassis and all of its internal workings. I was looking for another battery.

Similar to the battery from the smart car, the clink’s was a small cylinder that fit in the palm of a hand. Removal was simple: press the lock mechanism once and twist the battery as I pulled outward. The machine began to freeze in its place, still trying to pull an imaginary trigger, before it came to a complete halt and was stuck there like a statue. My work here was done, its parts weren’t compatible with mine and I only needed the batteries to get me where I was going. Something bothered me though as I was about to close the cover of the machine’s chest: why did it bother trying to tell me to stop if it was ordered to gun me down? Why would it gun me down if it tried to order me to stop first? My first assumption was that its programming was malfunctioning due to the damage dealt to it’s temple, but none of its processing power was stored in its head. I wanted to do a little digging around.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two: Norman