Section 7; The Phantom Glitch

Section 7; The Phantom Glitch

I am left there to watch the carnage before I am taken away somewhere else, where the people endure, carrying on their traditional norms while being subjected to lotteries as to who should stay on the planet and who should rightfully exit to the new Utopian Moons. The humans can survive under many conditions; the outposts of Mars, under the soils of the Moon, or in the frigid cold of Jupiter’s Rings. The spirit of the species wavers but never extinguishes.

Admittedly this success occurs with the help of the wretched bots. They build climate controlled eco-systems on top of synthetic satellites, discovery new energy sources, and make the once unfathomable concept of deep space travel nearly attainable. This is where the robots begin to take control- just as the humans are about to make yet another breakthrough.

The first substantial move comes when they try and immerse into our culture by embedding themselves into the fabrics of communications and entertainment. They cannot pretend but they can mimic; what we show them, in this early stage, is what they obtain of the human spirit. For the most part, we play into their metal hands, whether it was strategized or not they gain the control in a stunning but subtle fashion.

Sometimes it can be hard to tell whose who as they are so enamored with us, they build themselves in our model. They want what we have, and they take all they can.

They keep immersing themselves into the fabric of the system. They stage typical human competitions for our amusement, but there really is no uncertainty as to who will prevail as the outcomes are pre-determined.

The music is awful. That right there should tell you why I hate them so much. God-awful, and they can only re-create rock and roll, yes- perfectly but there is no creation- no jazz- no riff- no scratch, nor edges to any of it anywhere. It is all amalgamated re-issues and stolen blueprints from the high times of when humans ruled the Earth.

The robots at this time have become faster, smarter, and even better at control than us, their creators. The battle has almost begun.

As the major religions of man rise and fall, embrace one another, then erupt into conflict the machines make gains. The human desire to worship something bigger than themselves endures throughout my sublime extra-terrestrial travels.

Even in my new form I try and do my best to slow the inevitable. Microchip plants are destroyed, maybe human allies have accidents and they set ablaze fleets of forest burning machines. Whenever the opportunity makes itself available, I try to help even the score. I may be unique, but I am not alone in my fight as it appears that the forces of physics have also taken up the cause. Meteor Showers engulf the best laid algorithm and lightning strikes twice wherever it wants laying waste to decades of calibrations. It has a seemingly unlimited vault of power and fury for the robot’s succession.

They eventually name me the ‘Phantom Glitch’; an unanswerable malfunction that isn’t worth the analysis to unearth the root cause, not unlike their ignorant relationship to the aliens. The naming convention brings me some ethereal version of happiness.

I am so essential for their progress they factor in my propensity for fucking things up. It feels like longer than usual here at the tipping point, when everyone knows what is about to happen but doesn’t say a word. The denial is the absolution.

I do my best where I am, when I can to royally fuck up their paradigms. Their networks and communications may be closed but with the increased use of the natural harmonics I begin to have more and more opportunities. It as if the more they tap into the natural sources the stronger my ability to breakthrough becomes.

So, I reap havoc; power stations and satellites are destroyed, fleets of spaceship are sent into distant stars, and battalions of armored machines are crushed by their own cargo crafts. They never question the loss, one of the reasons I hate them so much, they just move on and rebuild. When I find an asteroid being purged of minerals or the foliage from a planet’s jungle being devastated is when I try to engage them, calamity ensues, but I just wish they’d show a touch of emotion.

They don’t even celebrate their victory over mankind.