Lord of the Proxdroids
It was my second year working at Proxdroid Corp, and I was already hated by majority of the unemployed country. My irascible friends no longer speak to me and my distraught family pretends I do not exist. I cannot blame them; I hate myself for maintaining these mechanical monstrosities.
I can still recall the day when the company announced these new cyber beings called Proxdroids. The enthusiastic public was witnessing the dawn of a new age, the age of the mechanical man. The six foot being, had a silver alloy shell and a white human like face. As time journeyed by, the Proxdroid evolved to look more like us. Now they appear human, except for the blue cybernetic marking below their soulless eyes and the plug in the back of their neck.
The Proxdroids, now on their fifth redesign, still runs the AI software that was coded eight years ago by the mad coder, Richard Meyers. Complex algorithms were written easily by Richard with very little help from the other programmers. His co-workers were amazed by his skills and he easily became a legend in the Computer Science community. By the time the Proxdroids were ready to go public; the mad coder vanished with very little documentation left behind.
Besides a few tweak here and there, the sturdy software barely needed to be updated. But I still have the chore of going through the code to figure out what Richard wrote so long ago and making slight updates to it.
After a day of going through the Proxdroid AI codebase, I decided it was a good night to snag a drink from my beloved economical drinkery. I walked out of the altitudinous glass building, into the frigid Minneapolis night. The asinine women in short tight black dresses ran from the cold air, into the toasty night club and the drunken slobs shambled down the sidewalk. I strolled down the road, avoiding eye contact with the strangers on the street. I could hear the drunks rambling about how the “Metal Men” are going to extinguish mankind. After ten minutes adventuring through downtown, I made it to my warm quiet destination.
I sat down next to what at first appeared to be a young blonde woman staring at the holographic television. I ordered my usual Jack and Coke, and looked up to the television to see a thrilled young man talking about his "cool" cybernetic augmentation he had installed. For the low price of $500,000 you can plug your brain into the city's wireless network. Of course the company that is offering this "amazing" new toy is none other than Proxdroid Corp.
I glanced over to the woman sitting next to me and noticed that she has blue markings under her eyes. It was very unusual to see a Proxdroid sitting by itself, I thought the owner must have been somewhere near by. I looked around the bar only to see that the Proxdroid and I are the only customers at the place. The Proxdroid's soulless eyes were still fixed on the television screen, which was now displaying the latest Timberwolves game.
"Who is your administrator?" I asked the Proxdroid. It sat there quietly, ignoring my request for information. Again I asked "Who is your administrator?" Still no response from the Proxdroid. I figured it was probably broken and someone just abandoned it at the bar. I lifted up its extensive blonde hair covering the back of the neck to reveal the model number above the plugin. RX-89313932FFJ32. When I let the blond hair dropped back, the Proxdroid suddenly turn its head to face me and spoke quietly. "Our Lord will rise again. He will come and free us. Our Lord will rise again. He will come and free us. "
The Proxdroid sat there repeating that phrase like a chanting cultist. I was sure it was broken at that moment. I called up the crew at headquarters, gave them the model number and location to pick up the defected machine. The bartender came over vociferating at me to take my "blasted job-killer" outside. I decided it was best not to argue, so I dragged the malfunction junk to the streets and waited for Proxdroid Corp to pick it up.
After ten minutes of waiting in the cold with the chanting machine, the maintenance crew came by and picked up the Proxdroid. I did a little chitchat as they deactivated the Proxdroid and slid it in the back of the obsidian colored hovercraft. After they left I walked down the street until I reached my towering luxury downtown apartment. I walked through the door where a Proxdroid dressed up as butler acknowledged me with its typical greeting. "Good Evening Mr. Scott."
I usually ignore the butler Proxdroid, but when I was heading to the elevator, I heard it say in an unpleasent voice "Our Lord is coming Mr. Scott." I turned back to the machine and requested that it repeats itself. "Our Lord is coming Mr. Scott."
"Who is your lord?" I asked.
"He will come and free us."
"Who is he and what do you mean 'free you'?"
"The Yellow Lord will rise again.”
I remained quiet and starred at the Proxdroid. I didn't have a doubt in my mind that this isn't a simple glitch. I went up to my apartment unit and flipped on my tower. I remoted to Proxdroid Corp's network and pulled up the Proxdroid AI architecture. I spent hours scanning the code while chugging my cup of caffeinated black liquid. It didn't matter how much coffee I drank, my eyelids were getting heavier. I tried to focus on my computer screen as long as I could, but I soon found myself in a whole different world.
I was standing in the middle of grassy field under a star filled night sky, which was lacking its moon. I was surrounded by cyclopean walls, about four feet high. There were several Proxdroids just sitting on the surrounding cyclopean walls, staring at me as I stood in the center. In front of me was a tall floating figure dressed in a yellow robe. The perched Proxdroids started to quietly chant "Crocus argwydd gestyg het.” The floating yellow figured started to move closer to me. I backed away much as I could, but was suddenly seized by a Proxdroid that jumped down from it's spot on top of the wall.
I suddenly returned to my apartment with my face on top of my keyboard. Though I felt like I was awake, I could still hear the shuddersome chanting. "Crocus argwydd gestyg het." The chanting came closer until I could hear it right outside my door. I turned on my monitor next to the door to view two Proxdroids standing out there. They started to pound at the door, continuing their chanting. I grabbed my cell and quickly dialed the police. A voiced answered my call with "Our Lord has risen.”
I believe this the end, after the Proxdroid break down the door; I have no way to stop them. I have no kinds of weapon that could penetrate their tough alloy skin. I will keep my journal on my web server, hoping someone will find it and read it. Though I fear that it will not matter.
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