The Roach and the Machine

The venture of a cockroach is marred in this nuclear winter, its distance traveled dependent upon its ability to adapt over time. How it adapts is dependent upon what malicious devices nature equips it with, whether bizarre or outright frightening. One crawled over a trash can spilled out in the pathway of a junker. It was deformed and glowing, the size of a fist, walking crooked, swaying back and forth on its uncentered mass. Its shell was hard and protected its whole innards from the radiated air which dissolves matter in minutes. It made its home in ground zero, a land known as the Fire Pit.

It crawled with tiny hooks, each plucking the ground, resisting the sting of the wind. Its two heads looked in opposite directions with one turned towards a man and the man’s robotic companion. As the robot came over, its loud tires rapidly flapped on the debris. It looked down at the bug with no reaction. The cockroach, in turn, began to hiss.

“Those blasted things can survive everything.” The man said, shielding himself from the shrieking gale.

The robot quickly wheeled over the bug and there was a faint pop while its white guts burst on the ground. “Well not everything.” The robot said, as a gleeful green emote appeared on his screen.

“Thanks Watts.” Small granules of rusted metal pelted the man as they were caught like salt in the wind. It dusted over his shoulders and sprayed his mask. “Let's move forward till-” and just then he was distracted by a small hurtling particle which sent a crack through his glass lenses. He frantically covered his eyes. “I have a busted lens, get me a spare please.” Through the crack great light and sound flooded his eyes and ears. He looked up to see the dust cloud which covered the vibrant expanse of yellow sky. It was frighteningly clear and beautiful, but it roared with such a deafening sound which whistled through the small crack.

There was a hand off as he detached his respirator. The robot collected one of the spare lenses, of which there were many. Reaching in his helmet he replaced the lens and threw away the old one. He breathed slowly, as hot air clouded the inside glass. His fingers fumbled behind his neck so he could snap it into place then clean filtered air washed away the fog. He exhaled and gave a thumbs up. “If you think I’m falling apart you should see you.”

The robot looked down at his shredded tires and sighed.

“My hope is to find you some new parts.” The man said. “But I doubt it.”

“Keep up the optimism partner.” A winky face appeared on the robot's screen. “You take care of me and I’ll take care of you.”

“As we stand right now what's our sack worth?”

Behind the robot was a short cord which was tied around his waist and carrying a large clunking junk bag. Watts looked behind and quickly counted each individual part. “Not much. We can buy half a pound of grain, but we’d still be three pounds short of our regular haul.”

“The vendors might not even look at us if all we bring them are copper and gears. This place has been looted to its bones. I just want to find a baseball card, something that I can trade for a ticket offshore.”

“And I’m coming too right?”

“You can’t cross the ocean Watts, you're a robot.”

“Well you’re not going to find much on the outer rim.”

“Well you’re the one who dragged me out here,” The man shouted as he pushed his companion aside. “What are you even good for?” He fell back on a used pile of rags. “Stupid machine.” He looked out to the blood red sun and shook his head. “I just want away from this hell hole and you keep taking me to these… hotspots. This place is a populous smorgasbord for scavengers. They adhere to no code.”

Watts put his arms behind his back. A sympathetic look crossed his screen as he wheeled back and forth. “You know sometimes luck befalls one in the time of his greatest despair. It's like the oilers used to say, you could stop looking but the moment your bum hits the ground, you’re probably sittin’ on it.” On his television face an animated cartoon appeared showing a black fountain bursting into the sky like fireworks and small people dancing around it.

“We're not entrepreneurs, we're tourists. This well is dry, drained by someone else.”

“Ahem.” Watts said.

“You’ve already led me astray with your faulty routes, what do you want?”

Watts made an annoyed face. “Look underneath you.”

The man stood up as he just realized he was in fact sitting on something. Amidst the unraveling cloth something poked out, small and round. “What is this-'' It was pale and glistening, and showed his pure reflection. He wiped off the dirt with his thumb as it sang to him, an ancient soundless song. He picked it up and held it by its chain -- a small heart shaped locket. “Is this what I think it is?” His eyes were fixated on it with an obsessive lust, they moved with every dangling sway in the wind. “Good eye Watts,” He said quietly, his mouth starting to water. Slowly, hesitantly, he gave it over and the robot plucked it from his hands.

Watts opened the locket which on the inside had a photo of a well dressed man in a suit. “This belonged to a lover of some kind, or it's a family heirloom.”

“Is that,” he hesitated to say, his breathing slow and heavy. “Is that gold?”

A virtual monocle and smoking pipe popped on the monitor as Watts' pixelated face squinted intensely. He searched the locket over on all sides, and strung out the chain and weighed it in his hands. Then a somber expression came over his face. “This could be your equivalent to a baseball card, maybe something greater.” The robot held down his head. “And if it is then I will be all alone out here.”

“So is it real gold?”

The robot recoiled and held it close to his chest.

“Watts.” The man walked forward with an authoritative stature. From his slightly heightened elevation he looked down on the machine. “Look at me,” he said sternly. “Give me… the locket.” There was a rupture in the earth as hot steam burst from its crust which sent the roaches scattering. The man was quick on his feet as the insects fled from the bursting geyser, crawling over his boots. He frantically stepped on them all. “I hate these things!” Each one burst and shrieked as he angrily killed as many as he could while his companion kept watching.

“I will not submit to your greed without first entering into negotiations.”

“Negotiations?” The man tried to swipe for the chain but his companion quickly pulled back. “I own you!”

“Per the ‘Best Interest’ protocol which you have activated within me I cannot with good conscience allow you to be consumed by something so small and materialistic.”

“The ‘Best Interest’ protocol is to protect me.”

“I’m protecting you from yourself.”

“Don’t act so saintly, you just have abandonment issues.”

“I could disintegrate this right now in my hands.” An animated flame came on his monitor. It flickered violently and the man's demeanor suddenly changed.

“Alright I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said earlier about the ocean. There will be plenty of room for you to come with me.”

“I’m not convinced.”

Reaching for the back of his neck, the man slipped off his gas mask, looking at him with his own eyes. “I’ve never meant anything more. I mean that sincerely, and I’m willing to risk my life to prove it.” Small blisters started to bubble up on his skin as the atmosphere kissed him with radiation, his lips became dry and started to peel and crack. “I am at my most vulnerable for you.”

“It's all just theatrics.”

“You know I’m impatient Watts. Stop playing games with me. Give me the locket!”

“I don’t want lies, I want earnestness. That’s all, and I’m going to keep it in here-” He opened up a small compartment drawer on his torso and dropped the locket inside. “Until I get it.”

Sweat started to roll off the man's brow. “I know your kind isn’t above stealing. I just didn’t expect it from you.”

“Let's take a walk and talk things out.”

“All we do is walk. I’m tired of walking, and I’m tired of talking. I just want the gold.”

“I’m not giving you this locket right now. You’re unstable, you’re breathing in too much fumes.”

“Fine.” The man said, reaching for his holster. “I don’t care.” He unlatched his blaster and threw up his hand.

Just as he did Watts raised his mechanical arm holding his own gun. And the two of them stood there, their blasters tightly aimed at one another in defense. “I have certain protocols to protect your life, but not before my own.”

“Just give me the locket Watts! Vendors won’t buy it off of you anyway. They’ll turn you off, sell your parts and take it. You can’t make it out here alone. You don’t know the world, you don’t know humans.”

“I know you.”

“No you don’t!” The man rolled his eyes. “You want earnestness? Fine. I think you’re nothing but spare parts, a machine that identifies relics and makes me money. Is that what you wanted to hear? You think I’m going to take you offshore? No way! I get one chance at paradise in this life and I’m not about to waste it in a nuclear world with you!”

“Insulting me while I’ve got a gun in your face… I’ve never seen anything more human.”

The man wiped his face and breathed slowly. He gripped the blaster with both trembling hands.

The robot responded in stillness, his arms did not fault. “I don’t want to kill you, but I could within a millisecond, and not even blink.”

The man went cold.

“It's pointless… put it down.”

He rationalized the stakes and sighed. “Okay…” He slowly raised his hands and threw the gun aside. “Let's talk.”

In turn the junkbot lowered his arms. “Thank you. You should put your mask on, you’re breathing in too much radiation.”

The man nodded without a word and looked at his mask, which lay by his feet.

“Let’s not look at this in a negative light.” The robot said. “I only want to test the bounds of our friendship. It's about trust-”

The man started to reach down as Watts talked.

“It's about growth and it's about honesty. Which is why I have to start by telling you the truth-”

Just then the man pulled something out of his boot and he snapped his hand upright with high velocity.

There was a blue light which burst between them, strings of lighting wandered through the air, and despite his efforts the man fell back. He hit the flat ground with a heavy thud. Steam rolled off his charred and hollowed chest. Then the robot dropped his blaster.

A disappointed emoticon on his screen shook its head and Watts sighed. “It wasn’t gold.” He tossed the locket on the dead man as a small and explorative cockroach was crawling by. It took a look at the human, then to the downslope where the junk trailed. Then it looked at the robot who stood in its path. Watts wheeled back to let it pass in peace, and so it went freely to venture out into the wasteland, into death maybe, but it crawled anyway.