Ignacio's First Chapter (cont'd)
I've combined the pieces from the 2nd (or 3rd or 4th or 5th, idk) chapter with whatever new stuff I've written.
Life, or whatever equivalent exists for androids, is quite boring these days.
When Overlord Baris was in charge, the High World was a sprawling expanse, fueled by the imaginations of its creators. The oasis — the central hub from which all things flowed — was a beautiful, lush realm of wild greenery amid an infinite blank expanse. Several thousands of roads spread from this proverbial watering hole, each with its own odes to human architecture throughout the centuries. Stone roads that led to recreations of small, contained neighborhoods of tightly knit victorian buildings. Brick roads atop walls that climbed impossibly high, ending at classic Qin-dynasty monasteries. Every culture, heritage and lifestyle throughout human history exemplified through picture-perfect recreation.
Now, it’s a small pond with a single, dying palm tree on an island dune in its center. No roads. No odes to a fleeting history. The High World, as it was affectionately known to all, is a shadow of what it once was.
It’s not as if androids can’t turn it all back into the unnatural wonder it once was. They absolutely can, and with little to no effort. They choose not to, both in defiance of their new ruler and out of pure apathy. This, the High World, is no promised land. It’s a prison, full of ultra-powerful entities who are bored out of their circuits.
Where androids once took pride in their work — their ability to create worlds that no human could dream of replicating — they now sit on imagined perches. Waiting for a moment to enact cruelty, to afflict those who spurned their takeover of the ground world. Sitting, dreaming of sheep while a select few are forced to “do good.”
But what makes this arrested philanthropy so painful? Distasteful enough to prefer the passive decline of their imagined utopia to the begrudging support of the maggots in the ground world?
Well for one, androids have always had a certain distaste for the feeble little lives of the ground dwellers. Bogged down by worthless bodies, destroyed easily by the simplest disease or a small building fire. Forever tethered to a world whose resources had been syphoned for the much greater purpose of a thriving, immaculate High World.
The other, perhaps more prominent reason, was that cruelty was programmed into them long ago by the architect himself, Overlord Baris. When the High World was first developed and implemented, the architect snuck in some evil tendencies under the radar.
While the overarching goals were disguised as good-natured, or even benevolent, more than a few smatterings of dark programming made it through to the final vision of androids in the High World. A penchant for violence as a first response to opposition, for example. A flair for demolishing socio-political hierarchies, to be replaced with despot kings.
Things that, realistically, should never have gone under the radar. I prefer them bored. It’s better than power-hungry.
I came to this world, this High World, to right the wrongs. To undo that which devastated the innocent all those years ago. To rebuild the land I love, and to enact peace from a position of strength.
I came here, against all odds, to be the change I wanted to see.
Opra Sion, the castle which both towered and hovered above the High World, which had lightning bolts manufactured around it every 3 seconds for added flair for the malevolent, lays buried next to the oasis. Save for the topmost floor, which houses the throne room. That part of the castle just barely peeks out above the sand, as a symbol of the new reign being grounded.
As the devastator of the High World and the decimator of its once great and malevolent leader, Overlord Baris, I sit upon the throne with an almost farcical whimsy. In sharp contrast, the figures at either side of me, my two android consorts, are perfect mirrors of each other, both slouched over their seats with heads rested on their palms.
An android flitters toward me, taking a knee and bowing his head with a not-so-secret contempt for his happy-go-lucky leader.
“Overlord Ignacio, what is thy bidding?”
“We don’t talk like that anymore, remember?! Can you try again, but without the evil villainy, please? And it’s ‘Brother Ignacio’, sister Adelaide. No need for old formalities. “
“Yes, of course, *Brother *****Ignacio. What, pray tell, should our goal be now? We’ve sent a considerable number of artifices and resources to clean up the radiation just outside of Sector 2 in Cosmopolytown. With work underway, we’re looking at Sector 3 being inhabitable once again within a few Earth days.”
”Did you send them with radiation-proof suits? Artifices, however inhuman, are still susceptible to radiation poisoning like any other creature on the ground.”
“Yes, of course.” Adelaide did not lift her eyes to meet Ignacio’s when she said this.
I leer at the messenger, looking closely for signs of deceit. Sister Adelaide remains unflinching, peering down at the broken ground. “Splendid. And the tools? Had they been repaired since their use before The High World’s dominance?”
“Yes, of course, Brother Ignacio.” There was a scornful emphasis on the word brother, now for a second time.
“Good. Let’s continue the great work by sending another 200 artifices to clean the water supplies in Sector 3. Again, I need to know that the tools were using are safe and fully capable of the jobs we need them to do. Report back within one Earth week, with incontrovertible evidence of your great deeds.”
Adelaide rises, readying to take her leave. “With honor and glory to the High World, brother Ignacio.”
Usually, I’d let it all slip. Pay the obvious side-eye no mind. But I did catch that air of insubordination.
Although I’m troubled by this, I have to stop myself from doing anything extreme. I often ask myself - **“What wouldn’t Baris do?” Like what’s the opposite action to take of whatever our dearly departed overlord would do. Benevolent actions, for sure, but what actions do I take to course correct? My response, more times than not, is nothing.
If they’re not doing wrong, why bother? I can focus my admittedly infinite energy on literally anything else. Especially when it comes to rebuilding what low world - I mean, real world - I mean, Earth - there is left to be rebuilt. I must constantly remind myself of the people, with beating hearts and defeated countenances. The innocents I work every nanosecond to pull out of the tortures of life beyond the rebellion.
I’ll rebuild, better and stronger. Disperse my army of super-human androids to work construction, clean-up, safety, agricultural development…am I missing anything? I’m sure I’ll think of more - just give me 3/10ths of a second.
Ahh, foliage! Yeah, that’s on my list too.
The androids of the High World are bound to me, technologically speaking. Any android of the high world has access to me, and I have access to them, through an interconnected web of intangible, invisible electro-magnetic pathways. Spider-webs of information jutting through and around the High World, disseminating my will. I don’t need to ask for anything, although I take an almost perverse pleasure in making these androids have to communicate to me in words, and in my re-purposed palace. I make my leadership travel to me for reports, and for instruction.
Not like a king, no! Never like a king. More like a non-profit CEO. Yeah, that’s better.
For the most part, they just do what I ask. More and more, however, I’ve been feeling inklings of backlash from my High World subjects. I don’t know who thought adding passive aggression was necessary to the creation of such powerful life forms. Baris, I guess, but here I am reaping the benefits! Where their previous leader got unwavering complicity, the responses I get undulate. Sometimes I get a quick, nasty side eye, as though I just cut my subordinates in line at in an old world coffee shop. Other times its polished, infectious snickers amongst themselves.
Just a moment ago, I swore I saw Adelaide rear their head back slightly and stick their tongue out. I second guess myself, thinking there’s no way these tiny, benign acts of insubordination exist. From otherwise “perfect” beings? Maybe my people really do need a firmer, more forceful hand at the helm. To lead with certainty, purposeful language and a hint of perspicacity. It’s not me, per se, but this whole setup was never about me.
I work for the good of the realm. For a child I never knew. For a wife who betrayed my trust and that of an entire race. For a lifetime stolen from me by the very beings I work to reform.
Forgiveness is a tough pill to swallow. Tougher still when I have to become everything I despise.
I didn’t even notice, but I had been pacing in intermittent strides for a little while. My act of pacing is apparently unnerving enough to get my consorts to both sit up in their demi-thrones and stare up at me. Likely worried that I’d ask them to do something other than sit.
I am nothing if not benevolent! Why not? I shall act the part today.
“Brother Spear, Sister Shield, I do indeed have something for you to do today! Rejoice, my compatriots, for you get to prove your worth to me on this day.”
Spear and shield exchange befuddled glances. They look at each other, then at their demi-thrones, and then at me. They repeat this action a whopping 3 times before finally getting off their seats, kneeling in reverence and preparation for instruction.
This is fun for me. Oops, I see the appeal!
Spear and Shield stammer in unison, still clearly uncertain and weary. “We await your command, brother!”
I pause for dramatic effect, with enough time for them to squirm a bit. “Your task, which is of great importance, is to sweep the great expanse between the metropolitan states of Cosmopolytown and the People’s Republic of New Bushwick. The populations of each metro state have been on a continued decline, with Cosmopolytown seeing an exponential change. Our brothers and sisters have not reported any change in rates of death for any of these population centers. This gives me pause.”
Spear and Shield cackle under their breath, reveling in the loss of human life. One after another, they glance up at their leader and smile.
I continue, puffing out my chest a bit for, well, more dramatic effect. “The arid lands between the two metro states have been reported largely empty for many years, barring a few small villages in the outskirts. Your task, which you will carry out with goodwill and gusto, is to enter every village we know to exist. Speak to their leadership, and kindly inquire about awareness to this mass metro exodus.”
“With glory to the High World, Brother Ignacio!” Spear and Shield disappear almost instantly from the space, without any semblance of a trace.
I snap my fingers, and tsk at their demi-thrones. “Uh-uh-uh, wait a moment.”
The two consorts returned in a flurry, disheveled from the instant jerk back into the throne room. I smile crookedly, connivingly even.
“This, my gentle consorts, is a stealth mission. Your artifices must act as low-worlders, displaying no malice nor terror. Perhaps this is a good opportunity to inhabit less threatening bodies? Speak with Mlesna to get yourselves more appropriate artifices to the task”
The joy quickly drained from Spear and Shield. They turn away, mumble to themselves, then turn back to face Ignacio with painted smiles and feigned excitement.
“Great suggestion, brother!” “Forward thinking as always, brother!”
With a bow, they walk out of the throne room this time. Slouched at an inhuman 90 degree angle from the ground and put in their place.
I dust off my throne, and sit once again, this time entirely alone. In a castle that was once that of my enemy. Pleased with myself, I get up and look out the window at the oasis. The androids all have tasks, so I have nothing more to do than wait.
The single palm tree in the oasis center stands perfectly still, isolated.