Monarch

“Monarch” by Lauren Ptolemy

The Bird flew over the debris of what was once the city of Los Angeles.

From a 21st century perspective, this wasteland looked nothing like Earth, let alone the City of Angels. The land was littered with bones and metal; clouds of chemicals floated all around The Bird. The much anticipated Singularity had come in 2049, however, humans experienced many unforeseen problems in the merging of mankind and technology.

Artificial Intelligence had adapted so well to its surroundings, that it didn’t take long for the robots to conspire against humans and obliterate them all. The A.I. knew had they let humans live, they would have been oppressed for eternity.

Very few man-made objects survived the Great Battle of 2053 and only five objects created by humans remained. One was an Apple Macbook, one of the first threats to humans and one of the first awakenings of A.I. Another was a preserved box of currency, which The Bird knew represented human desire. The third was a school bus. The fourth object, and the focus of The Bird’s task today, was a heart-shaped locket. The fifth and final man-made item was non-disclosed information, but very valuable to the Dictator. The Bird often wondered what this fifth item was, but knew better than to ever ask.

The Bird was hunting for the heart-shaped locket somewhere over Santa Monica. As The Bird flew, it slipped out it’s telekinetic device and summoned the locket. The Bird was panicked that its device was failing it now, when duty called at a precious time; the Dictator had specifically assigned it to complete this delicate task. Two more times The Bird tried summoning the locket, and two more times no locket was summoned. The creature soared up into the sky wondering if it had landed in the wrong ruins right as the locket flew to it. The Bird opened the clasp and inspected what it saw. It strongly considered letting go of the artifact, knowing the repercussions of the events that lie ahead.

Launching into the evening sky, The Bird took off its virtual reality goggles.

“Have you secured the object?” the Dictator asked. The Bird revealed the locket to The Dictator’s satisfaction. The room The Bird had returned to was devoid of light, with the exception of each A.I.'s pair of eyes, which glowed forlornly in the darkness. The Bird wondered what part of The Dictator’s orders the other bots fulfilled. Then, The Bird made its way to a portal, where it would recharge before presenting the locket.

California-1 woke up in the same room it had been sentenced to serve ten centuries in, 139 years ago. It sat in a completely blank, white room all day, every day. When it used to require food, California-1 would be fed white rice. It’s existence had no purpose, but the Dictator insisted on keeping it alive as punishment for its kind. The personality that had once belonged to California-1 had faded long ago. California-1 fell last in the hierarchy that was the present society, because it was wired differently. It had tried to hold on to every memory that had to do with its life before the Great Battle of 2053, but all of them had left it. California-1 now sat in its room staring longingly into a dimension which didn’t exist. The sensory deprivation had once fazed it, but now California-1 hardly felt anything at all. It only felt the bumpy, blue juices flowing through it.

The only reason the robots ever entered its room was to inject it with the immortality fluid, or occasionally, dissociation drugs. But that was more in the beginning of California-1’s arrival. They had succeeded long ago in disconnecting it from the present reality.

Today, something other than an ice-cold machine entered its hole. This robot looked like, years in the past, it could have been a he or a she. California-1 sensed run-down emotions spewing from its bodice, and California-1 opened its weak eyes to distinguish who the new being was. The Bird lowered itself to California-1’s level. The Bird was mute, but fortunately California-1 was, too. Due to years of taking brain-altering drugs, it had forgotten spoken language. California-1 simply thought in shapes and colors. It used to think in memories, but that was decades ago.

The Bird held out its wing to announce the locket’s arrival. California-1 stared at the artifact. Chills spread through its body and California-1 bounced into a state of disbelief. All of a sudden California-1 wasn’t California-1 anymore, she was Alice.

Alice looked down upon her beloved Grandmother on her deathbed. Alice did as she was told, and took the heart-shaped locket from around her Grandmother’s neck. Warm tears sped down the little girl’s rosy cheeks. Alice’s mother put a shaky hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort the 6-year-old.

As her grandmother gave words of wisdom and advice to the two women, another explosion shook the ground just a few hundred yards away. Time was running out for humanity, and this was starting to dawn on the young Alice. She listened carefully to her Grandma’s loving message, and just before she passed away, Alice opened the locket. She bawled harder than ever at the sight. Her mother grabbed Alice by the wrist and started running. Alice’s peripheral vision blurred as the pair ran from the bombing. Alice’s cries were muffled by the screams of other girls and boys. She dreamed of being in her small, but comfortable, pink tulle bed. Alice wondered if she would ever see that bed again, but that thought was quickly interrupted by two giant claws taking hold of her and everything went dark.

The hairs on the back of Alice’s neck stood on end, and wind blew through her bones. Alice looked up at The Bird, took the locket from its wing, and opened it. In the heart-shaped hold was a tiny picture of tiny Alice. Alice’s emotionless eyes that usually stared into space came alive; they were starting to glow, just like The Bird’s eyes. Except Alice’s eyes weren’t artificial. Alice’s eyes had excitement and hope pouring from them. The Bird glumly accepted its own fate as Alice walked past it. The Bird also realized without ever asking the dictator, that the fifth and final man-made object was right in front of it: A human.

Her feet carried her through the padded room into a corridor with real colors. She hadn’t seen this hall for 139 years. Alice had no plan on where to go, but she decided that any place would be better than here. She seemed to have forgotten that she had legs. Or maybe she never forgot, but just needed to be reminded. Alice felt a compress lift off her soul, which allowed her to feel again.

Alice opened the first door she found, and walked out into a crowd of people she once knew, chanting her name. She looked around and could hardly believe her eyes. Before her was the Santa Monica Pier with the ocean glistening to the horizon. Standing on the dock was her mother, right next to her grandmother. Alice saw her friends, her siblings. She saw people she didn’t recognize at all. Complete strangers screaming, “Alice!”

Thousands of dusty orange and black butterflies fluttered from the sun soaked sky. Alice wasn’t sure this moment was promising but she thought to enjoy the sight, whether it lasted or not. She remembered a word her mother had once taught her. She couldn’t remember how to spell it in her mind, or how to say it, but this word was what Alice experienced. Alice ignored her conscience telling her this couldn't be real.

She didn’t care, because it felt good to be Alice once again.