Just Like...
ᏟlockᎳork
Tick, Tick
Butterfly Dreams
That Float Softly
To The Ground
Like Feathers
Tick, Tick
What We
Do Not See
Will Soon
Destroy Us
The damp air was thick, suffocating and choking all it surrounded. It was a day of smog, dense smog that was thicker than ever thought humanly possible. It was the sound of chains rattling in the distance, breaking the barrier of grey in the sky, that solemn ticking noise of the big clock in the center of town. Ruins stood as testimony. Ruins that had captivated from the beginning, into something great; now they were wasted giants who loomed in that silent death, as if they wanted something to come that was as unpredictable as death itself. The air stank of industry that had gone to waste, and tireless hours only to result in death. The old clock was ticking still, not wanting to give up on its last breaths. If there had been any survivors, the ticking would have sent them into insanity. That constant noise, invisible noise that could cut through metal and ruin the world with its constant, unaided, undying tick. Ticking its way into nothingness, the last testament of what once stood.
From the rubble came a single paw, pushing away destruction. A dying breath escaped the creature, but it was caught up again. Like the clock, death was never an option. Another paw. Pulling for freedom. This was a strange creature, who was entirely machine. The one part of him that had once been the remaining ounce of life, gone. Like the city, he had been forced into a new-wave world where technology was at its head, and creativity at its peak. It had crumbled. He had helped it crumble, and now he was all alone. He pried himself free from the rubble and shuttered, collapsing as the thick air coated his lungs and strangled him from the inside. So much was invisible to his eyes, which could only see what shadow and detail left them to process. He stood again, tumbling along until at last he could go no further. And before him stood the old clock, ticking its anthem and filling him with regret. Regret and pain from years of wanting and wishing, only to destroy what he loved in an attempt to save it. He had never been right. He would never be right. And he understood that now.
Tick, Tick
If I was going to blame myself, I knew I would need to start from the beginning. I decided that this had all started when I was born. I had once been so utterly normal, and that was the proper thing to be. An improper, imperfect normal, but a normal nonetheless. My litter-mates and I were all the same red color, with a purple tuft on our foreheads and, except me and my ugly brown eyes, exotic purple eyes. Dogs, cats, birds, fish, and even the abstract and bizarre genetic lab creations all had crazy colors. That was the way the world worked. The world demanded color, it demanded happiness, it demanded everything impossible and nothing that wasn't. Luckily, a world like this moves quickly. With education spiraling up and discovery on a greater rise than ever before, the brave world was taking its first steps toward total mastery. Children were born customized, with snakes for hair and eyes that could change colors. Parents could eat pills that would give them instant surgery, not only healing ailments but also making them the latest fashion trend. And of course, creatures like the Mimic were only the beginning. Any color achievable, colors that were new even to the spectrum, and I was one of the shadowed litters. A cheap. After all, if my eyes weren't solid gold and my fur wasn't soft as synthetics could be, then I wasn't the next show-Mic. Of course, I was loved nonetheless.
When I was born I was the middle-child. Nothing special. I was average in size, with a boring pattern, and would not sell for more than a credit or so, the equivalent of a penny back before credits came into play. Everything was digital now, even money. Nobody had to touch anything unless they were wearing it or eating it. I was left in a digital play-pen, where everything was holographic. There was a special chip designed to be implanted into your brain, in which all the holographic items would become three-dimensional according to what your mind processed them as, but it was too expensive for cheap "mic-pups" like us. So we just pounced through our squeaky-toys until we were bored nearly to death. Had I died now it would have been so much easier, but that was not the case. I was just left to rot in a broken cage until someone pitied me enough to feed and maybe even stroke me.
Tick, Tick
When I was a little older, I made my first friend. It was entirely on accident, and I was to blame. I had grown so weary of my home that in the night I'd snuck out to see what the real world was like. Big mistake. I couldn't seem to manage an escape, so instead I went and turned on the digital world-walker. It was a machine that when hooked up to, linked your mind to the outside world using a large computer database roughly the size of an old alarm clock. A massive computer, but it was necessary to keep everyone safe. I may not have had the chip in my brain, but I could still use the visitor's helmet. Trying my best to place it on my head, I pressed a knob and was instantly transported into the outside world of digital. It was daylight, like it always was, and the blue sky showed the lack of a sun, clouds, or anything else. It was a soft blue today, because today was Monday. Tomorrow would be brown, for Sunday. Then pink for Saturday, with a twenty-two to twenty-four hour multicolor party skylight system that changed colors to the beat of the music pumped through the world. Other colors for other days. Nothing unusual.
I wandered the streets aimlessly, avoiding commotion as best I could. It was about twelve hour, the time the household human chose to sleep. It was always daytime, so the sleeping hour was up to you. More people slept in the mid-hours to be rebels against the previous sleeping times before the new-wave phase. I was awed by beautiful office buildings, all manners of silver and gold, mixing old-wave chromes with new-wave synthetics. We were a city known for the top-of-the-line perfection. Some cities were more forest-based, with all-green synthetics and completely lab-made natural substances for furnishings and artwork. My favorite city would and always will be the real city, but now isn't the time to talk about that, I'm afraid. I watched the colors of the houses, ever-changing from silver to metallic purple to a stunning gold. It was all about being the latest in fashion, and every minute or so the latest house color would change, causing a wave of wall ripples into beautiful and mesmerizing details, patterns, and unique shades.
As I rounded a blind corner, I ran into a strange creature. Looking him up and down, I was startled to see that he was once a Mimic. By design, he looked similar. He had wings, strange paws, and a beak. However, his stature was impressively small, and his eyes glinted like diamonds, flickering between emerald and golden in color. He was wearing a pair of aviator goggles, and had fur a sleek silver with unusual black stripes that were both there and not at the same time. His wings were massive, almost three times his size each. He looked at me a moment, and then smiled.
"Sorry about that, I'd better watch my step." I nodded dumbly, trying to manage a word or two. "Name's Flint." He offered a paw, to which I watched his fur ripple in an almost inhuman way. The stripes were like a mirage. He smiled and retracted his paw, sitting himself down. "It's not like you haven't seen mez-fur before, is it?" He asked, and I shrugged in silence. "Shy bugger, mez-fur is the latest trend. I wouldn't recommend it though; it's expensive for a cheap like you."
"Hey!" I finally managed to get out, and the Mimic laughed, revealing a pinkish tongue with a strange piercing that looked somewhat like an old victorian gear.
"Hey yourself; name's Flint and I want to know you." He spoke in an accent unfamiliar to the town, and I shrugged.
"My name?" He began, trying to stall. I'd never liked my name, and it had never been popular. Most creatures had cool names, like Flint. I could see my charade was getting nowhere though, and so I sighed. "It's not important."
"Well then, I guess I'll have to give you one myself; I like Raft. It fits you." He suddenly started laughing, as my face contorted into something of unpleasant shock. How did he know my name? "Hacking the system, my friend. It allows you to almost hear the thoughts of others. It might be sent in code, but I'm a tech wizard." With another laugh, he stood, beckoning me to follow. "Let me give you a tour, newbie." And with that, he was off, my only option being to follow him in a state of stupid confusion.
He took my through the town, all on foot, saying that The Skyway was always too crowded for animals anyway. Almost nobody took the ground route, and he liked that. He was the kind of Mimic that, if given a choice of house, would always have his silver, no matter the latest trend, because he liked silver and didn't care what others thought. Once he lent me his goggles, and instead of a beautiful high-tech world all I saw were numbers and codes and strange alphabets flashing everywhere. He said that it was his way of "hacking the system" and he could mess with whatever he wanted. His own invention. I admired him for that. He gave me a decent tour for several hours, before I decided it was time for me to head back. We agreed to meet up the next hour set in the same place at the same hour. He told me he'd smuggle me a brain chip if I wanted, and I eagerly told him that it sounded like a plan. Then I would be able to enter and exit the house as I pleased, with my chip working as a passcode, and I could really experience the world. Flint told me he'd never before gone into the real world, as it lacked a code, and I hadn't managed to convince him of its safety yet. I wouldn't be giving up soon, though.
The next hour set we met up again, just to hang out, and Flint snuck me the chip. He said I would have to carry it around, but that it would still offer me most of the luxuries. Just not the luxury of going outside. That one I'd be missing until I found a way to get it implanted in my brain. He gave me a small wrist-band with a victorian cog similar to his tongue piercing, to keep the chip. He told me he did the same thing, because it was easier and allowed him to world-hack. I laughed and we had a good rest of the day, with a few pranks here and there followed by a nice chat in the park where I learned computer code talk, known as the secret ancient language of Leet, and I taught Flint about the life of a cheap. I don't think I ever thought of Flint as a friend, because I'd never really known what a friend was, but I was starting to discover for myself that the world was a much nicer place in some ways than imagined. After all, I never thought it could get much worse. It was, after all, only starting to blossom and get better.
Tick, Tick
It was about two months before I met her. She was the one who changed my outlook on life. Flint had made me see the world as a fantasy, but she was the one who truly opened my eyes. In turn, I would end up closing hers forever. It was a day with a purple sky, Thursday, and I was on my own. Flint had some meeting with a gang of his to discuss something know to me only as a binary code; he told me that it was an ancient script used in the computers or forever ago, and I concluded that I would try and explore myself while he talked zeroes and ones. I found a few spots that could be hacked to create secret coves, but nothing truly spectacular in the eyes of Flint. I was beginning to see the world like he was, and it was an unusual place. He said one day, when I could read binaries, maybe he'd make me a pair of goggles like his. That day sure seemed to be coming fast, in my opinion.
But this day, I saw her. She was a stunning blue-silver, with frozen eyes that could enter your soul and stain it with fright forever. Her paws were small, smaller than seemed possible to still support her. She had a long, delicate frame, and was very thin and gorgeous. She was about as long as I was, but as delicate and fine as a flower. She trotted toward me in a whimsical fashion, her fur rippling like surreal fish scales, and for the first time ever I felt my heart begin to thump loud in my chest. It was a prisoner of my own mind, and it wanted freedom. I denied it this and it protested by beating against my ribs even louder. She smiled at me and I nodded at her, waiting for an introduction. This time, I wasn't afraid of my name. Flint had made it quite clear that my name was fine, normal, and my paranoia about it had vanished like steam in an instant-dry clothing press.
"My name is Sylvia." She said in a melodic voice that was about three octaves higher than possible, and yet still as clear as crystal and as defined as a black line on white paper. I have always felt this way about Sylvia, and though she and I are forever parted she still makes me feel like I should be creating comparisons, and talking in a strange fashion. I suppose love does that to you? I don't think I'll ever know, but she was the one my heart was set on capturing. I was a bird in a cage, she a fierce cat on the other side, and I was trying to break free; after all, she was the most terrifying and wonderful creature ever walked the earth. Because of that, I wanted to be by her side always, and never let her go. She was the daughter of a million fashion changes and statements, the most expensive nano-bot pills, and perfection in a little silvery package.
"My name's Raft." I spoke, my voice heavy and plain and boring. She smiled lightly, a soft hum that was something like a giggle escaping her. She was so beautiful…
"Well, Raft, nice to meet you."
"Same." I nodded dumbly, still completely at awe by her looks. "Just wondering why I've never had the pleasure of your acquaintance before?" She made that giggle-like noise again.
"I was from out of town, but a recent move has brought me to this sparkling city." The way she spoke was so eloquent, and I felt like the bells were ringing out in my brain to sing. I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it again when I realized it did not sound nearly as spectacular as her own. "How long have you resided here?"
"Me? Oh, try my whole life." I muttered, still caught up in everything about her. That was when there was a slight crash, and a form about as small as Flint came tumbling between us. Sitting up, I was face-to-face with another young Mimic.
If you are wondering, Mimics were the latest genetic creation, and big on the market too. They were a popular pet for this town, and one could find them anywhere. Since I related to them best, I only ever worried about associating with them in the beginning. This new Mimic was very young, and she wore a brown scarf with an unusual pattern that I did not recognize. She was probably just like Flint, and did not care about the world's opinions. She was much more plain, however, being a dark silverfish color with grey eyes. Another cheap, perhaps? She had unusually big paws and, after studying her a bit more, I noticed that she was a bobbie.
"Hey, sis!" She cried, her voice still high in pitch but unusually low and pathetic compared to Sylvia's.
"I told you to leave me alone when I'm talking to you." Sylvia told her, shooing her away with her long, flowing tail. It was in that moment that I realized, with a slight embarrassment, that Sylvia had unusual wings. I'd been lost in her eyes and her sing-song voice. Her wings were very small, and though they had feathers, the feathers stuck out in a pointy, odd fashion. They floated above her body, wings but not her own. I frowned, but then looked at the whole Sylvia again, and realized that it all fit in perfect harmony.
"My name is Sterling!" The young Bobbie cried, grabbing my paw and shaking her abruptly. "And, well, I have to go." She bolted off with a wicked glance from her sister, and I sat laughing.
"Cute." I reassured Sylvia, not at all phased.
"Oh, she just likes to get on my nerves. That girl will be the death of me." Sylvia's grammar fell, and I wondered if it had all been a big act.
"Well, I should probably get going after her." Sylvia said with a sigh, flashing me a beautiful smile. "See you later?" I nodded, and she ran off after her sister. I watched her go until all that was left was the cold, empty spot where she'd been sitting. I cursed little Sterling, obviously not happy with being split from my other half. As I walked off in a daze, I met up with Flint again and told him about the girl. Flint laughed and, rather surprisingly told me that Sterling was actually the newest member in his silly binary guild. Of course she was. In my mood, I went home and took a long nap, obviously too frustrated and upset to be thinking clearly. Sylvia was the one for me, and I made sure that Flint knew that if he couldn't keep Sterling in line, I'd be forced to do it for him. It took one warning for Flint to realize that I was a short-tempered thing, and that he had best listen to my warning lest someone befall harm.
Tick, Tick
Though I will always say that my birth was the start of the end, others argue that the cause would have to be the accident. If the accident had been avoided, then I probably just would have found some other way to ruin it all. Some would say that it was good for me to ruin the monstrous industry outside our door, but I never believed it. Better to live in a happy little bubble than be forced to die for nothing. Ignorance is bliss; and I had broken that sweet bliss with my own disgusting ignorance. I would never have done it if I could have known. But nobody knows until it's too late. The grass is always greener? That applies to much more than I'd ever thought.
It started out like an ordinary day. Flint was coming over to hang out, and even though it required me to wear a helmet to see him, he would get to meet my family. I wasn't so convinced that he would enjoy it, because most of my family were annoying and stubborn. He insisted, though, and I decided he'd have to learn for himself. He came over at roughly seven hour, and I dragged him into the room with my siblings. My mother was in her own Nursery with a new litter of precious pups, after my owners went off and decided to go all-out with genetic variants. They were prizes, and would be sold for quite an impressive sum. They'd never meet us, nor us them, lest we mar them with our ugly, foolish nature. Sometimes, my mother was such a pain. My father was gone, but nobody knew why. Mother didn't talk about it.
Flint was officially lost in a sea of red, purple, and only found me by my size, masculinity, and dirt-brown eyes. He hadn't the faintest idea what was going on at any given point in time, and I didn't blame him. It was a confusing household, especially with so many brothers and sisters around me to boggle the mind. I tried to introduce him to the gang, but they didn't seem at all interested in his name coming from someone like me. All the girls admired him, all the guys worshipped him, and I realized that I was the only one in the family who'd made a habit of going outside. What mother didn't know… Well, you know the saying, I bet. It never hurt her in any way, and none of my siblings made it their business to be a tattler. At least that I liked about them. They didn't feel the need to make themselves better than me because, frankly, we were all the same in at least one sense or another.
My eldest brother, Mark, managed to worm his way through the crowd. "So, Flint, my name is Mark and I run this show. Want a tour?" Flint didn't refuse, and though I attempted to interject, my objection was overlooked by all parties. I wasn't used to being ignored by Flint, but I certainly knew he wouldn't get along with Mark. I was not concerned. I sat myself down in the mid of the room, awaiting the end of Mark's little rant about how our house was the finest in everything technological. I assumed that he didn't know Flint belonged to someone with money, and time, and love for him. He wasn't some normal creature of disgrace to a family. He was worthy of the money his owners had. Flint did seem polite though, and rather intrigued, though I figured he was just being a decent guest.
Then Mark brought the whole group back to the center of the room and I nodded, knowing that it was time for Flint to go.
"Oh, not yet. I know that Flint couldn't possibly want to leave without some fun and games, no?" Mark suggested darkly, and I knew that he would probably do something to cause or inflict bodily harm to a participating individual. He was the kind of evil mastermind who loved to plot out such crimes. I'd told him time and time again that he was going to hurt someone; he didn't care either way. I was one of the most loved of the Mimics in my house, and because of that Mark always wanted to find a way to hurt me. Jealousy turned even the finest, oldest, most amazing souls into monsters.
I looked at Mark, and he met my gaze with a strong and defiant one. We did play several games, some with our own digital screens and others using each other to run in circles and have a wonderful time. It was a lot of fun, and even Flint and I got into them. Mark was finally seeming to warm up before I saw it coming. That shift, from one phase of mind to the other. It was nearly invisible, something that was said to be a long-forgotten art. Many believed that only a natural eye could pick it up, one free from color-changers and color-dyes and pigment-altering pills. I was the only one ever seen with ugly brown eyes that weren't the least bit fascinating. Maybe I had a talent hidden inside me after all.
Mark finally voiced his opinion, and had charmed Flint in such a way as to accept no refusal.
"So, Flint, I hear a rumor that there's a bug going around where you can pass through phases without getting hurt. True?" He looked at me briefly, through the corner of his eye, but shifted again and left me to ponder my coming doom. I shuddered as Flint nodded.
"Only with a helmet on though." He added, nodding at me. He still had me covered. I stood to fetch a helmet, and Mark immediately called me out.
"Where are you going, dearest Raft?" I tried not to move, but he had me.
"I was just going to fetch my helmet. I assumed you'd want me to test your theory out?"
His eyes twinkled. "Hadn't occurred to me, but thanks for the offer."
In silence I stomped back, grabbed my helmet, put it on, and led the group to the Phase Shield guarding the Nursery. A Phase Shield was put up to block all light, sound, movement, and anything else from one world to another. It was to prevent the pups from being disturbed as they played. No expense spared for perfection; love was overrated, value was based on a credit system. Flint decided to test it out first. He was successful. Mark went without a helmet and said that Flint had weakened the phase setting with a data-bend process, making it easy for anyone to do with minimal shocks. I was beginning to feel suspicious when he talked with such an understanding of computer tech, but I decided it was just Flint rubbing off on him and cleared my mind.
I ran next. Fast and hard. The moment before I took off was one where the world seemed to throb around me. Then there was silence as I ran. A hair's width before I hit the Phase Shield, the world seemed to stop. I suddenly heard a thundering, loud noise that penetrated my very soul. It was so unusual. So hard, crisp, almost as if it had resonated from inside of me out into the world. It was a single tick. Caught off guard, I only remember an intense amount of pain. There was screaming, but I don't remember if it was my own or not. The air of my body was trapped and I shuddered in fear, a shudder that never seemed to end. It was as if the world were slowly closing around me, eating me…
Tick, Tick
I woke up to strange sounds all around me. Beeping, blinking, and a strange, murky darkness. As my eyes adjusted, I realized that the darkness was more the fact that my eyelids were stitched shut. I tried to open them, but some invisible, senseless fabric held them together. Finally exerting all my will, I broke through the realm of unconsciousness with a sharp shatter. Gasping for a breath, I felt as if I'd been hit by a train. I tried to sit up, to move, adrenaline coursing through my veins and the whole world a swimming pool of colors and sounds. Someone put a reassuring… limb, on me. I couldn't tell what it was. My entire body tingled with a strange numbing sensation that was neither painful nor painless. It was just there.
Finally, the first voice I ever wanted to hear sounded.
"He's awake, I think. Isn't he awake?"
"Yes, he is." Came another voice.
They were all around me now, and I began to distinguish the shapes of… creatures. I still couldn't see very clearly to tell what anything was.
"He'll be fine, like I told you, Sylvia."
"Well, I was just worried."
"He passed, and that's all I'm concerned about."
"You talk like that's a good thing." Sylvia demanded. I searched my brain for that name.
"Don't bug Flint, sis. He knows what he's doing."
Flint. Sylvia. Sister… Sylvia's sister, Sterling! And Flint! And Sylvia. I sighed, and this time it was a real, audible sound, that I had managed to make myself. I felt it escape my lips, and the numbing dulled considerably. Only my legs were awake.
"Don't scare me like that, Raft." Sylvia demanded, and I could finally see them distinctly.
I was informed that I had not made it through the Phase Shield. I'd instead made it halfway through, and had become caught in its electric pull. They had freed me using Flint, and they had rushed me off.I was at a place known as The Clockwork Guild. They'd used their resources to help me heal up, and I'd survived. That was all that mattered. Sylvia would sit next to my nest and keep m company, but it did no good. Flint condemned me from talking, and soon even Sylvia's voice needed rest. To make matters worse, I kept hearing Flint and Sterling shatter about some tick. Flint demanded he ask me now, but Sterling told him to be patient. I don't think I'd ever heard a girl more calm and cool about anything. When she spoke to Flint like this, she sounded years over her sister. It surprised me.
Finally, I managed to regain all of my vision. When I did so, it was quite a shock. I was laying in bed, perfectly accepting that all but one of my limbs was no longer asleep. That was when it happened. I tried to stand and stretch, but got caught amid a tangle of wires and tubular feeds. As I tumbled to the ground, I realized that only three of my legs were functioning. Examining my senseless front right leg, I let out a shriek that was never to be replicated. It was entirely missing. I blinked a few times, but it was still gone. My head felt fine, and though I was choking amid wires and machinery, I still couldn't believe it. It was gone. When I demanded an explanation from Flint or Sterling, though, they said nothing. Sylvia admitted that she didn't know. Eventually Sterling told me it'd had a poor reaction to some antibiotic and had rotted away, I didn't see any sense in believing her. The fights between her and Flint about ticking grew worse.
It seemed to be almost a month before I finally asked why they were keeping me here, and how in the world did they expect me to go home missing a leg and what was this crazy talk about ticking? Sterling sighed and brought Flint in, and I would soon discover I was ill prepared for any sort of discussion. They sat in silence for a while, exchanging a few all-knowing glances every occasion or so. I was beginning to go mad before I finally demanded that they tell me what was wrong and why I was stuck here. A long, slow sigh escaped Sterling and she was given a nod from Flint. She'd aged a hundred years since I'd first met her, and she seemed now more the wise for it. She began to spin her tale.
"Your limb wasn't lost due to anything so easy as a mixed-up label on a medicine injection bottle. That would've been nicer. I assume you know that was a lie?" I nodded dumbly. "Then we can only hope that the truth will come easy. It was taken off, lost in an epic battle of sorts. That's the only way to put it right now." The look on my face must've made her realize that I wasn't about to accept childish treatment. She continued with another sigh. "You see, your father was just like us. To put it simply, he was a tech-head who loved computers. Like Flint, he invented many things. Like the aviator goggles." I pretended to have a clue what she meant, hoping it would come easier to me later. "He also had a crazy theory. When one has reached a peak moment of one's life it can lead to the ticking. He decided that, crazy as it may sound, it was coming from outside. He said it started out just a quiet tick when his pulse ran high. He tried to help others hear it. Soon it drove him mad, constantly invading his thoughts. He found a way outside, to the real outside, not through the computer system. He never came back. Your mother decided that he'd found a better lady to be with. We let her believe that. We never told anyone else what had happened until now."
"Hold on." I said, trying to grasp it all. "What about my leg? How will that be solved?"
"I'd hoped you'd ask." Flint said, standing and bolting out the room. Sterling just smiled. He returned a moment later with a strange robotic device. "My own creation. It's an idea I had to combat the… err, a robot limb of sorts. Done in my favorite antique style." He smiled, helping snap it into a strange metallic hook-up in my shoulder that I'd never noticed before. I was beginning to think that I was crazy. "Try and move it." I did, but with no results. "No, don't think of it as a robot. It's your leg now. Just move your leg." Relaxing, I did so, and it moved. It had all the functions of a normal leg, and would've made anyone jealous. It had more muscle strength, control, and movement than any other real Mimic limb.
I had fun for about five minutes, and then realized that it wasn't as interesting to move my new leg back and forth, as much as hearing the daring tales of my father. My siblings knew that I was safe; Flint had rescued me, and with any luck, I would no longer be accepted in my own home. I sighed, feeling the hard metal floor and staring at the damp stone ceiling. My hospital room had quickly turned into a cell. It had always seemed dark, but now it was almost as suffocating as being trapped in a phase. I shuddered and tried to concentrate on the words of Flint as Sterling and Sylvia bounded into my room. We had about two hours of freedom, and then, mid-sentence, there was a large boom.
"As I was saying, he turned and right before him stood th-" The crash sent everyone skittering across the floor, and my bed wheeled itself away. Flint's story ended and silence followed. Not long, though, because a second crash echoed through the halls. I managed to stand up and rip the cords out of my limbs. Blood began to ace down my fur in some spots, but I paid no mind. The large building around us was collapsing. As I neared the entrance, I saw a mass of Mimics suddenly knocked to the side. The air rippled like a massive ball of heat, rippling and causing an illusion that one might associate with invisibility.
"What is that?" I murmured in awe.
"That, Raft." came Sterling's uneasy voice. "Is called a Bubble."
Tick, Tick
I woke up to a bright light in my face. It was daylight, I think, but all I could feel was the crushing weight of stone on my body. I was moving very fast, bouncing around at unusual speed. I felt like vomiting, and indeed did so three times until my ride stopped. Someone managed to pry open my eyes, and I saw a strange Mimic face towering above me. He was larger than life, and had a deep brown coat that when he walked shifted like rippling wood. Illusion fur on a day like today sent my mind into a frenzy.
"Woah." Came a deep, dark voice, and I was instantly calmed by the deepest, darkest brown eyes I'd ever seen. They were beyond mine in ever way. Unnatural and perfect eyes. "Just look at my eyes and focus on the color." I tried so hard to do so, but eventually lost myself to the iron will of exhaustion. Black swam through my vision, like fish dragging ink with their tails, and I was lost in the black sea. I awoke three days later.
Whether in a forest or a home made no difference. The pain in my body was obvious and visible. Every bone in my being shattered beyond repair, and was slowly being fixed by nano drones, microscopic robots that could mend anything. Without a numbing agent, it was a painful process. It was now that I discovered I'd lost my wings. Being fished out of the rubble of a collapsed building, it had been me or my wings. I tried to tell my rescuer that I'd have rather it been me, but he just told me to shut up and remain calm. I thought that was an awfully funny way to put things.
Flint was fine, escaping with minor injuries. He'd rescued Sylvia, who was unconscious but alive. Sterling had shown up a day ago with a few other survivors. The name of my own rescuer was Gridlock. The rest were dead. It was no freak accident though, and I finally found a time to ask Flint about the Bubbles.
"Bubbles are strange creatures. You see, they're not like anything I've seen before. A computer coded program that simply acts like a virus killer. If it thinks anyone has done something wrong it disposes of them." I tried to tell him that this was what the police did, but he wouldn't listen.
"Bubbles aren't police. They kill things that could destroy the system. Not the world, but the giant computer it's run on." Sterling explained to me, and I finally got it. About this time, a frustrated Flint went to go work on some bionic wings for me. He said that me liking Sterling better than him gave him no reason to give me another surprise. I told him she was just smarter, not better. Sterling told me I was digging my grave with those words. I told her that in no way could words do anything physical, because they were not made of matter. She left me to sleep off my stupidity.
My bionic wings were pretty cool. I could move them in so many ways, and they were both light as a feather, strong as a steel door, and resistant to heat and cold, with a built-in antifreeze coating that prevented sun glare by absorbing light. It all went right over my head, and I found them more fun than the leg. I continued to move around from treetop to treetop, slowly regaining my level of sanity and intelligence while discovering a new skill for lightweight metal wings. I was the fastest Mimic alive, not to be disrespectful to those lost, and I was on top of the world. At least, until I saw it.
A ripple in the air that would've made it past anyone else. I saw it though, and hurried back to camp. It followed me. Three of them were there when I got back.
"Bubbles are following me." I told Sterling, who immediately made me leave the campsite and go far away. Flint stayed with her and I for a few days, and finally Sylvia woke up and joined us. I felt bad at first, but soon realized that it wasn't my fault. We spent three weeks trying to hide ourselves, to no avail. Finally, I felt something in my leg when I was fiddling with it. I hadn't noticed it before because it was in my front left leg, which couldn't be felt by my right one. But eventual the bump caught and I realized that it was there. A large, old-fashioned tracker.
The procedure to cut it out was simple. Without any sort of pain reliever, it hurt, but I was tough enough to handle it. The nanos in me were just enough to heal the cut too. As we did so, though, Sterling told me she was about to do something very stupid, and to forgive her.
"What do you mean?" I asked as she smashed the chip on the ground. It was instant gratification for her. Twelve or so different Bubbles surrounded us. I ducked and dodged, but escaping was useless. Sylvia ran for her life, but was caught up by a Bubble. As she screamed for help, something changed inside of me. A new resolve.
I raced forward and slashed. Hacked. Mad and wild fury, discovering a hundred or so new features added to my leg. Weapons. My wings sliced through the Bubbles, sending them spiraling to the ground. One cannot fight a computer, though, and we were easily outnumbered. Flint told me I could stall them and he could stop them. Pulling his goggles on, he worked and we fought. Finally, he had mentally solved the code. He raced off, and we followed, helping defend him as we came to the remains of the secret system that I had first learned my fate in. He found a computer, "hacked the system," and turned the Bubbles off. Only briefly, but we made it back to the camp alive.
It was there and then that I made my final decision. I got back and discovered further devastation. Amid ruins, a few Mimics were left barely breathing.
"What happened?" Muttered Sterling. Gridlock pulled himself forward, clearly in pain, and muttered a response.
"Bubbles… fury…… no mercy…."
I stumbled blindly through the wreckage, searching one tiny form out. I'd rescued Sylvia from Bubbles before, but they had probably followed her back to camp. I realized she hadn't had an escort. I wildly followed as many trails as I could find, but saw no sign of her. Finally, Flint approached me with sorrowful news.
I was led to a spot in the brush where the plants were thick and vegetation was a deep, healthy green. There was a silver, watery form in the middle of this green. Surrounded by flowers. Still looking perfect. I flew down to her side, nuzzled her cheek. Still warm, soft, angelic in every way. Sterling was crying up in the tree. Flint bowed his head in respect. No others were capable of making the trip except for Gridlock, who was tough as his name claimed. He had stumbled with us and now stood, statue-like in appearance with a mask of iron resolve over his face. I felt the hot tears streak down my face.
It was in this moment that I realized something. As I did so, I turned with a powerful anger to face Flint and the others up on their tree limb. They saw the change in my eyes, like I'd seen in Mark's. Not unlike him, they noticed I went from kind and soft to a hard shell and a will that could not be bent or broken. They leaped down to join me. I stared as hard as I could into Flint's eyes, almost into his very soul. And I knew exactly what I had to do. I had to follow in my father's pawsteps. The ticking, for the first time since I'd heard it in the phase, began to ring loud and clear in my ears. I spoke with a newfound determination, decorated with a foolish courage built upon the anger of my day. The words I uttered would change the course of history as we would know it.
"Make me a clockwork hero."
Tick, Tick
The surgery was painless. It took two days, seven hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-three seconds exactly. It took months to prepare the whole suit. It took a year for me to gather up the courage. So exactly a year later, I woke up and felt nothing. The numbing sensation that had first occurred was there now, lonely and cold and in such a way as to make me feel forgotten. I blinked open my eyes and scanned the surrounding area in fear. I was full of terror for no reason at all, but was like a mouse in a box, waiting for some unseen cat that lurked nearby. That cat was growing constantly closer, lurking just outside my field of vision and my paw's reach. It was so close, and that ebony feline was just about to pounce. And then, a wave of calm washed over me, and I was reassured.
There were no mirrors in the room. As a matter of fact, there was nothing at all in the room. It was stone, complete and utter stone. It was fairly small, about ten feet by ten feet by ten feet. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. Nothing to see but the ugly grey walls illuminated by… I shuddered, sitting up as all the memories flooded back to me. The leg. The wings. Sylvia. I let out a soft moan, before realizing that I was ready to wake up. I tried to remember what Flint had told me previously. Previously was actually three days previous. I'd finally awakened to find myself trapped in a cement box.
"Now, remember, your strength will be superior. Vision excellent, agility superb, and your-"
"Don't touch my eyes."
"What? If you want to be-"
"I said leave them."
"But why? They could have night vision, status bars, visual-audio hookups-"
"Sylvia said she loved my brown eyes. Leave them."
"Alright, alright, no touching the eyes. Put I'm putting a hookup next to them if you don't mind."
"Fine."
I sighed, sitting down and curling up. Machinery did not curl up like a normal body. It got caught, it squeaked and shrugged in protest. It didn't bend like I had once bent. I felt so much more alone now in this box. Sylvia, I'd killed her. My eyes were a tribute to her, and she probably would never care. After all, she was all silvery and perfect. Why would she love something like me? I stood up, suddenly realizing that all of my joy had left. I was a cold creature now. Metal never felt love, only failure or success. I shattered the walls around me and shot up, my legs catapulting me into the air. I hovered there on perfect, air-circulating wings. Then I spotted him, with his brown fur and brown eyes and power built right into the air around him.
Gridlock had seen me and was flying close at a great speed. He didn't look joyful though. He looked terrified.
"Raft, get out of there! They're comi-" He voice was cut off as an invisible something grabbed him. The focal cog around my eye caused my vision to zoom in. It may have been a lens, but it meant messing with my eyes in some way. Flint would hear about this. I saw the gentle snap in his neck, and the body went wholly limp. I don't remember what happened next, but the anger was welling up inside of me. Not another soul would die today. Not on my watch.
I heard a snap again, but this time it was me. Something shattered, and suddenly there was a large hole where the Bubble had been. I was terrified at first, but then realized that Flint was right. My father was right. It was all going to end like this, and I was going to do what my father couldn't. I was going to make it outside. I fell to the ground just as Sterling arrived, followed by Flint. I'd killed the Bubble, to be sure, and I'd killed part of the computer with it. I could only hear my own angry pounding heart. My mind was filled with knowledge beyond years. I was a robotic product of industry and design. And I was going to survive and make it outside, even if it meant I died. At least I'd die knowing what it had been for.
I slipped Gridlock's goggles over my face. They were mine now, a tribute to the great hero who could no longer be with us. He was dead as death itself, and I was the only who felt it most. That man had been there for me, and unlike Flint, he'd had a style and sense all his own. He wasn't going to let anyone control him. I was like the newer, shinier version of him. One filled not only with determination, but the most suborn hatred known to any creature. I was about to do something very stupid, and I did not know it yet. It was coming fast. And it began when the clock struck noon.
I don't remember fighting any more of the Bubbles. I know I did, as holes appeared all over town. The one thing that I do recall is that my own mind had lost it by now. And as I was panting before my friends, a red mess of every nasty emotion, Flint's eyes changed. I saw it with my right eye, my last good eye. He was choking. Invisible choking. He was dying. And as he died, something else took over. Sterling and I both looked at his twitching ear. I saw what she couldn't. The tiniest microchip implanted. He suddenly shifted fully, and had completely lost control. He'd gotten himself one of the chips, so that he could come and go through the city without suspicion. It'd been kept in the tongue piercing. And then he'd done what he'd sworn not to and gotten it implanted behind his ear…
The new Flint turned and looked at me. His eyes twinkled, like Mark's when a plan had hatched. He lunged for my throat. I countered by slamming him down into the ground. He hit it with a powerful thud, vanishing under a cloud of dust. Suddenly, a powerful force knocked me out of the sky and into the ground, a slamming shock that sent rippling waves of pain through me. I hadn't felt pain since my body had been replaced with a robot's. And yet I felt this shudder so horribly, so unimaginably, that I was stunned for a long time. Finally, I saw him standing over me.
"The computer is not pleased. It controls everyone. We are not pleased with your ideas. This is a utopian society. We do not need your interference." He began to push against my chest, and the world began to shriek and shudder. A few gears began to bend and snap. Sterling was my saving grace, flying down with such great force as to knock him off of me. He was sent spiraling, and I stuttered in shock.
I stood up and gasped, trying to look for him, but only saw a shadowy flash ripple through the air. He'd run off, somewhere deep into the computer, and it was all my fault. I'd let him get away. But I could only manage to push him off of me. I could never hurt the one who had always been there for me regardless. He was the one soul I would never hurt. Well, he, Sterling, and Sylvia. It all had to end. I was ready for this madness to come to a happy stop, and so I realized with perfect clarity what I had to do next.
I remember hearing Sterling yell to stop, but I pushed her out of my mind. All I heard was ticking. It was taking over me, controlling me, as if all I had ever felt that could be felt now was from that horrible ticking. Everything moved in rhythm. It swayed. Maddening. Rhythmic. Sway. Rhythmic. Sway. Rhythmic. Sway. Suddenly, I was in my home. And a few of my littermates stared wild-eyed at me, huddling in fear. Using my willpower, I made my way back home, forcing myself out of the computer world I resided in to find my way back into reality. It wasn't hard.
I ran fast and hard at the door, not stopping to think. All I heard was ticking. Make it stop. I was moving so fast. Suddenly, I was sent back to the time that I ran at the phase wall. I remembered the ticking noise there too. It all made sense now. The Bubbles had known from the start that I was unusual. My friends were in the group that had attempted to take down the Bubbles. They hated me. My leg had been lost to the Bubbles, and they'd pulled it off without care or cause. Just to stop me. But it hadn't, it had been the one thing to motivate me. That test they mentioned. It was the ticking. And now, a split second before I went through the door, the ticking stopped...
Tick, Tick
I rolled myself to get outside, bashing the door with my wing and shoulder rather than my head. What remained of my once-living form was most of my face, and I was smart enough to know that it wouldn't last much longer if I battered it. I stumbled outside, and was immediately knocked around by a spell of brief confusion. Running through a door was hard. The loud sound of screaming sirens was even harder. Red lights danced everywhere, and all I saw was a haze of red. An old message began to play, an ancient recording that had hoped to never receive use. It blared everywhere at once, and caused my mind to practically melt away. The muffled, painful steps of a few souls, and the brief sound of clicks, was filled with fear and shock and surprise of every form possible. Finally, the silence surrounded me. I was choked out by a nasty fog.
I sailed to the top of a building in hopes of finding a decent view. None was available that suited my needs. The fog everywhere was a strange, rusty grey color. It actually looked very much like my steampunk body. I scanned the surrounding land, suddenly grateful for my eye enhancement. What I saw was terrifying. All around me a few large buildings loomed like angry giants. They were ready to devour any who approached, and I shuddered. The rest of the town was empty and void of anything but fog. The stench of unbearable. I listened as there were screams coming from the houses around, rotten and rusted into an ugly mess.
I tried to escape the fumes to no avail. I heard the clicking of body storage facilities. These were crates that one was laid in, when an emergency occurred. It caused the body to sleep in a state that was death except monitored by a machine. Fed once every two months. Given water once every three weeks. They remained perfect until then, never aging a bit at all. It was considered a very special, very respectable thing for when war or other danger happened to find its way into your house. I guess I'd never thought people would lay in them because of me. Every creature from here to the other end of the earth was stuck now. And their minds were transported to live happily in a computer world. Obviously they didn't know that they hadn't gone much farther than before.
I stumbled into one building, and went unnoticed. As I scanned each room for life signs, I tried to count the names that had passed on, never to be heard from again. I tried so hard to remember every face that was now gone, because of me. It wasn't fair. I hadn't intended to cause anyone pain in any way, shape, or form. I'd made a big mistake, one that could not be undone. Why did I have to exist? Why did I survive the Phase Shield incident? Why did my father have to try and solve this mystery too? I had followed him. Maybe it was for him, so I would know him better. Maybe it was for Sylvia. Maybe it was for every other soul lost. Or maybe, it was just for me.
I did, however, manage to make my way to one occupied room. I was listening, scanning, for anybody at all. The air was fairly clean, and it was a decent temperature and a perfect balance of light scents; apple, rosemary, and pine. Very crisp. Very clean. About as unnatural a place as I'd ever seen. Finally, I found a room with three men. One of them stood at the door, and I peeked in. The man at the door vanished suddenly, and I noticed that he had looked fairly like a mayor. They all looked the same, you see, with perfect haircuts and pressed suits. He'd probably been my town mayor. I never really cared for politics. The conversation that followed would scar me forever.
"Who do you think did it, sir?" Said the first man, sitting at one end of a table, and obviously not the boss. The boss was bigger, stronger, and much more frightening.
"Doesn't matter."
"Well, how do you think they did it, sir?"
"Doesn't matter."
"What do you mean, 'Doesn't matter'?"
"It will be much cheaper to maintain them in this state, and this state is no different than the last."
"True, sir, but what should we do now?"
"Big business as usual."
I shuddered. Not from fear, sorrow, or cold. Anger was pulsing fast now. Cold, hard, undeniable, unforgiving, impossible anger. Mimics had died. Business as usual? People were now stuck in a vegetative state. Business as usual? Sylvia was gone. Business as usual!?! I broke through the door, and the ticking came again. I knew now what it was. A big, old clock from back when people could go outside. When they didn't live in a computerized world. The real world was "Big Business" as usual, but with a twist. Smog as thick as the gasoline that had produced it. A world of rot, decay, rust, and hideous lack of color. Business as usual, huh? Well, this business would no longer be usual now. The clock had been ticking down to this moment my whole life, it seems. And now, as my rampage filled the city, ruins collapsed, I finally discovered something about myself; I had become a monster.
Tick, Tick
This lone paw in the rubble of a great city freed itself, and then the rest of the Mimic would follow. Only the clock remained, a standing testament of time and the insanity it could bring. The Mimic was old, but not that old. He had once been the most handsome Mimic known to the world, with brown eyes that were filled with love, and fur that was untainted and perfect in every way. Now a mechanical monster that was the only remnant of a world driven to chaos. He'd destroyed the world in an attempt to save it. The lone Mimic made his way up to the Clock Tower, slowly, gathering every detail of the world he'd destroyed. He glided smoothly to the very peak of it, admiring his work with a true grief. One that was even more confining and smothering than the smog around him. He bowed his head in shame, only to hear a delicate voice behind him.
"Raft." It murmured gently. It was a beautiful silver mimic who was young and small, but wise for her years. Her name was Sterling. His name was Raft. They were friends as far back as any would've guessed. She was the only one who'd made it out. And now she was there for him. "Come on." She continued softly. "We have some work to do."
Commentary:
Well, hey guys! If you made it through the whole story congrats! This is going to act as sort of a personal journal if ever a proof/update the story, to let you know! Random comments also go here. Please DO NOT POST on this thread! I cannot stress this enough! Otherwise I can't keep posting the next mini story! Wouldn't that be sad? /:
The story fuses elements of my life, school, and literature I've recently read, to combine to create something that I think is my finest work to date on a creative, unusual, and perfectly tailored-to-fit basis. It is 10,003 words, and I apologize for the cheesy, crappy ending, and the fact that it isn't edited or proofed at all. /: In the story, far as I've seen, is stuff from To Kill A Mockingbird, Uglies, and A Wrinkle In Time. There are probably more, but those are the three most prominent, and the three I remember... :D It is the longest story I've ever written, the second-longest being a little over 3,000 words...
This took me four days of writing, probably six or seven hours, plus a bit of planning halfway through to decide how I was going to end it. So about eight hours of being enslaved to the tale. The ending was rushed, and it came out both preachy and "Save The Planet" which is not what I intended in any way. P: I may revise this in the future and add a lot more to it, but for now, I'm being lazy. I'm also going to start on the second story! -prods below-
Curious, are you? Well so far there's a whole mess of stories to be writ! Not really, only three--possibly four if I get some new ideas--and here's the sneak-peak for now. Stories will be posted as they are finished, so you'll have to wait to read them! But anyway, for a hint...
- Clockwork, Gearshift, Torque
