The drones are coming
“We’re coming!” you yell.
You run past the bamboo grove, the wild vine suspending you from the ground. Footsteps on the ground below. Your master. He has come to collect you.
Master is coming
Your master is in the lead. He’s older than most men now, but his bronze tan shows he is as fit as he’s ever been. Shirtless, with near perfect abdominal muscles, he has a warrior’s body. He’s middle-aged with a tribal tattoo of a dual-headed eagle stretching across his chest. It’s an ancient image, he tells you. Meaning he was a member of the Native American confederacy, and that he served in the civil war as well. His story is common now; many men talk of war, some more than others.
Big and strong
He’s the only one who can beat you. You don’t have any pride when you fight him. You crouch, bare chested, as he approaches you. You engage him instantly. His back is strong, his physique strong, but your superior upper body strength and agility allow you to best him.
Big, strong, a warrior
But you don’t win. You see something in his face, his size, his power – a child’s anger. Then you realize as he advances on you, he begins thinking of his tribal tattoo. He’s thinking of it’s power. And you know that. He brings his hands to his chest and spits to his right, before he swings his arms straight out. Legs extended, the blunt force sends you across your home, swinging your head through the air to crack it against the wall. You remain conscious, you hear a woman scream, and then you feel an arm grab you and twist. You’re dragged away, you struggle, but your master overpowers you. Now you’re knocked out.
Four men
For years you’ve lived in your master’s house. In a small, simple house, you and your master have had a normal life. I mean, it’s not great, but it’s better than most. Your master is a well-respected man in the community, a good and respected community leader. He spends his free time helping people in need – no small task, considering the state of the world. He lives well, but he doesn’t criticize. He doesn’t criticize much of anything. You are his only help now, and so you have to take care of him.
Master is a well respected leader
Master is working in the back yard, cultivating the corn, beans, squash that make up their diet. You’re helping him, having helped yourself by brewing yourself an iced tea. It’s a nice day, mid-summer, and you’re enjoying the sun. A cool breeze blows, by all the signs it’s going to be a scorcher.
Master and you are enjoying the day
Master is a good man, and you are happy. But now you hear something. It’s the sound of armor, steel footfalls of men, and some padding from the ground. You rise and you don’t need to be told to grab your spear. You peek out of the window. It’s a drone, a small drone, low and fast.
You and master look out
“This is it!” Master calls out.
You nod, and rush forward to the front door, and enter the room on the left. This is your home. A small kitchen, a bed, and a small bathroom. Nothing more. It’s your home for now. You decide, without really thinking, to enter the small closet tucked in the corner of the room. It’s a small closet, about 3 feet by 3 feet. The only outside entrance is a small window, and you can’t spy out the window. You know it’s there, you can feel the saturation of the city’s defense system and your robots guarding against any threat, but you realize that the drone is fast enough to get into your home before your screens can react.
You peek into the dormer after the fact
So you climb in, willing to take the chance, and quickly move the clothes that line the back wall. You see the brace and tackle and begin to affix the jutting pieces of metal. You, with your upper body strength, manage it with ease. The ceiling vents begin to rattle, you hear the beat of a single steel foot on the hard wooden floor. Then two feet. Then three. The buzzing of the machine hovers as it flies lower. And lower. It is looking for you. You know it’s looking for you. You know it’s scanning for life and medical information. It’s a panel drone. The most networked, intelligent drones that you and your master have ever built. The only ones that can come inside.
The panel drone is on the floor now
You realize this is it, and you begin to bash your head against the floor. You slam hard, into the wood. You sit up and pound it again. This is it. You realize it’s over as the machine enters the room. It figures you are in the closet and it turns to it, revealing itself. A panel drone. It is aware of your presence, and the rectangular area of the robot begins to glow. It’s scanning for you, looking for your bio signals. It’s looking for you.
The panel drone is searching
Then it stops, a low hum permeates the air and the device ducks out of view. You look out, your face almost hitting the robot as the drone darts out of sight. It’s leaving.
It’s leaving
“It’s heading for you!” you yell to master. You run outside, towards the front door. You begin to make your way inside, but as you do three men enter your room.
3 men
They are big, strong men with military grade handguns, the same kind your master carries. But these are elite. They are the ones you were warned about, the ones with tribal tattoos higher ranking than your master’s.
The men
You know that they are here for him. You know that he is in danger. You know that you two are in danger. The men, they are searching around the house. They are calling out to him.
The men are calling for him
You duck behind the doorway, back into your room. You hear one of the men look out the window. You wait, you hide, you wait and wait. Master, he never comes. And then you hear something. A scream, the same scream that you heard from earlier. You look through the peephole. Master is being pulled from his home. They are taking him away.
Master is being taken away
You are alone. A platoon of men rush into your room and kick you in the face and you fall. You realize then that they are made of steel. They kick you and you cannot get up. You roll to the floor and you are alone in the middle of your home, in the corner, in the dark, with your back to the wall.
The men are kicking you in the face
You are beaten. And you are alone. You wake up to see your master, his tribal tattoo still on his chest, his eyes vacant and filled with sorrow. Your master sits, and you see that his leg is severed. You look on.
Your master sits
His leg is gone. You stare at him, his warm body on the floor, and without eyes, you know he is gone. Tears, tears of sorrow, run down his face, and you tremble with fear.
Tears of sorrow run down his face
Now you are alone. You know that you will never see your master again. You know that he is gone, and the men are coming back. You call out to him, and you remember your orders. You hide. You wait. It is safe to wait here, in here, but you realize it is not safe to hide here. There are 3 others, and they could find you. But you have to leave. You hear characters, heavy footsteps.
The men are coming
You peek out of the closet. You see a couple of the men searching the house, with nothing, they look upset. One looks at you. You can see his eyes, as he looks at you, and you know what he sees. You duck slightly, and it seems to fool him. He walks away. You are safe for a moment.
