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A harsh wind blows across the dusty plains as the sun presses down on you like a heavy weight. You tip your hat back and wipe the dust from your face, unsure whether or not the earth has soaked into your skin and become a part of it. If you aren’t able to find another source of water, your village will wither and die like a sun-cooked grape on the vine.
After days in the wasteland, what little water you had is running dry. But . . . to turn back would mean exposing yourself again to the harshest of conditions. You wonder - Is death waiting for you in the dunes and the ravines? And the Tech-wolves are always hungry. Would it be better to lay down now and let the them claim you? You pull out the picture of your son, gone these four years and take a moment just to remember. To hold those memories close and block out the stark danger of the present. Suddenly, the distorted howls of the Tech wolves echo in the canyon. There is nothing left for you behind you. You know you must go on, farther from your home, farther from everything you’ve known.
To live, you must go on.
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2. |
2. Memories of Rain
03:25
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Exhausted after your panicked flight from the tech-wolves, you take a moment to rest in the shade of a dusty outcropping.
From across the plains, you hear a distant sound like static. The static increases in volume until it seems almost deafening. You feel disoriented as a sharp pain stabs at your temples. Your head feels as though it’s being gripped in a vice. You clutch at your head, wanting desperately for it to stop as the intensity rises, doubles, trebles. From nowhere, a memory bursts into your mind. And you remember . . .
You remember standing on a dusty precipice looking down into a valley. A great city lies there, a hundred times bigger than any mud-hut village you’ve ever seen. Then, without warning, a peal of thunder and - Water! Falling! From a slate-grey sky!
At first, you don’t even know how to comprehend what you’re remembering. How strange - A seemingly infinite amount of water, falling ceaselessly in all directions . . . A name appears in your mind like a hoarse whisper - “Rain . . . Rain . . .”
More images tumble in to your mind: Streets and terraces, writing covering the walls and the signs, the rounded symbols familiar and strange all at once. Humans and robots walking side by side in peace, no hand raised against another.
You know where the city is. Even though you don’t know how, you remember. It’s close. Your eyes snap open to a clear blue sky.
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3. |
3. Haunted City in Green
04:19
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It isn’t long before you’re looking down on the city from the same vantage point in your memories. The rain makes a pattering sound as it hits the ground.
In your new memories, the city is clean and vibrant, populated by humans and their metal companions. Now, the city is in ruins.
You make your way down the cliffs to the outskirts and pick your way through the cracked streets.
You stop, truly seeing it for the first time in the present. Green is everywhere, a wonder to behold, more than you’ve ever seen in the wasteland. Green things have spilled from the parks and boulevards into the streets, sidewalks and buildings.
Even for all the city’s verdant wonder, you can’t help feeling that you’re being watched. Lights and sounds come from ruined machines. Where is the power coming from?
The sound of static follows you wherever you go. A picture of a man walking flickers fitfully as a voice urges you to “cross.” Letters adorn the sides of buildings and all manner of signs. You can read the writing. You have never seen it before.
Who lived here? And what is left?
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4. |
4. Oasis in the Ruins
04:16
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After hours wandering the wet, broken streets of the city, you come across a hollowed-out building.
The rain stops for a moment as you stand just outside, the first time the rain has stopped since entering the city.
Only a fraction of the building’s walls are still standing, but a spring has appeared here, welling out of the ground! The spring is covered by lush looking, extravagant trees. A beam of sunlight breaks through the trees in the moist air. You hear birdsong from somewhere among the leaves. A sense of peace descends over you.
Who knows what will come next? Maybe you can rest here, for just a moment.
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5. |
5. The Battered Terminal
02:58
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As you leave the Oasis, the rain starts up again. You’re reluctant to leave, but the mystery of this place pulls you on. You soon come to a large intact building with a wide, sliding door. You slip inside, wondering what you might find. The static follows you even here.
You find machines of every size, organized by some curious logic. What were they meant to do? As you brush past a dusty console, it hums to life. Intrigued, you tap a few keys.
The machinery around lurches to life. You step back as it begins a frenzied and ever more intricate dance. As you watch, a shape takes form. It is small and humanoid. A robot! One of the fabled death machines with eyes of fire!
The ballet of machinery comes to a halt as the last pieces are placed on the newly minted robot. You raise a rusted pipe in your hands, ready to destroy it before it can raise any alarm, but it raises its eyes, filled with blue light, to yours and says in a high, childish voice: “Hello!”
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6. |
6. Machine Learning
02:09
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You had expected this newly made robot to be a killing machine, but instead you find a being of pure joy.
You watch as it begins to learn how to use its limbs and tests out its speech. Its laughter echoes throughout the factory.
The Robot approaches you. “May . . . I have . . . memories?” It reaches out towards you. You take its metal hands in yours. You feel its presence in your mind. You remember your life. Your village. Your partner’s smile. Your son. The funeral pyre for both. Your desperate mission.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” You ask.
The robot laughs. “Yes, thank you. I know where we need to go next.”
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7. |
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You step back into the rain again, the newly self-possessed Robot skipping at your side, making small clanks as he careens down the street, laughing and stopping to gawk in turn. You find yourself smiling in spite of the dire situation. How long has it been since you’ve done that?
As you walk, a new thought occurs to you: This city is a treasure beyond imagining . . . So why is no-one else here?
Echoing from the walls of the city ruins, the sound of marching reaches you. You quickly duck into the side of a collapsed building and pull the child with you as you watch from the shadows.
The sound gets louder and louder until you see them: a full squadron of robots, marching in time. These must be the fearful metal Sentinels of the cursed city! The ones that can paralyze with a glance and kill with a gesture.
As they round the corner, you see the rusted, irregular shapes on the march. The fabled Sentinels’ appearance does little to inspire fear. While they are made of metal, they are in various states of disrepair. Their exterior is pitted and rusted. Some are missing parts or even limbs, but they march on, relentless. Their eyes issue forth red light that searches tirelessly.
You slip further into the shadows, hoping to avoid notice. A red light touches the edge of your hand. A sudden wailing screech issues forth from the nearest robot. Its grating scream freezes you to your core. You stay as still as you can, forgoing even breath, holding the child close. The child, sensing your fear, goes still.
After a few endless, agonizing moments, the Sentinels remain motionless as the red lights search furiously over the surrounding area. The surreality of it all increases as the wail fades to echoes, then to silence as the red beams dance across the broken edifices of buildings.
An eternity passes, and the robots simply march on. You begin to allow yourself to move and release your death-grip on the child’s arm. As the rhythmic pounding of the Sentinels’ march fades away, you know that you and the child have narrowly avoided death.
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8. |
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When you came here, to this city, your goal was simple survival. But the longer you stay here, the more certain you are of two things:
You are being guided somewhere and . . .
This place holds a terrible secret.
The memories have lead you and the child to a vast, dark building with a towering elevated dome raised high above the rest of the city in the center. The words “Primary Data Bank of The Technocracy of Telodor.” Are crossed out. Someone has scrawled “Memoratorium” below.
“Do you know this place?” You ask the child.
“I remember only what you remember and little more,” the child says as he shrugs. “But I do feel him. Up there.” It raises its finger and points towards the enormous, intact tower rising from the middle of the building.
The sunlight disappears behind you as you pass through the rusted doors and into darkness. A light comes on ahead, flickering like foxfire. Your steps echo as in a vast, empty space as you approach the light source.
The light is coming from a terminal. The text on the screen (which you can read, as you now remember it), says “welcome, citizen of Telodor. What knowledge do you desire?”
“What do I do?” You ask the child.
“Ask!” The child says, smiling.
After a moment of contemplation, you type - “what happened to this city?” The terminal flickers and you hear a blast of memory-static.
You remember sitting across from a haggard man in what you recall to be the robes of the ruling Council of Telodor. His hands shake as he meets your eyes.
“It is no use. He no longer listens to us. His core programming is corrupted beyond repair. Our request for new iterations were all denied. We were deemed . . . ‘unworthy’. And . . .” He bows his head. “He is directing all rain inside the cities instead of out. This is further evidence that we must iterate, but with the invention of the memory transmitter since the last iteration . . . Forgive me if this sounds dramatic, but he can peer into our very souls. He says . . . He says we do not understand pain and hardship, and he will teach us to be worthy. Insanity. At this rate, the surrounding farmland will dry up and we will all starve if the Sentinels do not kill us first. If you are remembering this, perhaps not all is lost. If you can iterate . . . If he lets you . . . Perhaps there is hope. The new unit will know what to do. May the Master Control Computer have mercy on you. Forgive us. We told him to make us better.” The memory ends.
You kneel down to look at the child. “Did you see that? Do you know what he meant?” The small creature smiles. “Yes.”
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9. |
9. The Master
03:34
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The huge metal doors make a hollow thud as they rebound against the wall. You leave the halls of the Memoratorium and pass into an enormous domed room.
Inside the chamber sits a gigantic metal man, enshrouded in cables and surrounded by banks of computers. The metal man stirs his eyes and a wave of memory-static hits you with near physical force. A chorus of voices, now menacing, now manic, raves as memories of war, glory and conquest pour into your mind.
Steeling yourself, you take the hand of your small metal child. “What do we do?” You whisper. He smiles and says “Remember.” Hand in hand, you both turn to face the figure on the silicon throne.
The memories you pass to the child flow from him to the Master. Desolation. Desperation. Love for a child. Fear. Ending. The Master’s rant falters and comes to a halt. The computers all around him let out a great hum and whirring. The temperature rises. In a great groan of metal, he rises to his feet.
“New iteration acknowledged.” Then in a smaller voice, “Take care, my son.” He topples forward with a deafening crash.
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10. |
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You and the child step out of the doors of the Memoratorium. You walk back through the city, its remaining lights and sounds now absent. You pass the city limits, and begin passing through the wasteland. Before long, rain begins to fall. “Where do we go now?” Asks the boy.
“Home.”
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Bo Coker Gainesville, Florida
Bo is a solo acoustic artist from Gainesville, FL. He's been writing and recording his own music since 2005.
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