Prisoners of Sol - The Servitor (8/8)

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The end of the world felt like everything was finally collapsing around me, the way it had on the inside already. I’d often wondered how society could just go on without Laral leaping across Kalka, playing with the boundless enthusiasm of a child—the wonder at the world I’d seen mirrored by the dying machine, back when it first learned to craft art. The eerie, noiseless atmosphere, as I dragged Polri across the bloodied sidewalk, was broken only by occasional garbled output from the android. Its LED eyes flickered on in momentary bursts, and its register was a helpless caterwaul.

“Would…you…like anything else, master?” Polri screeched discordantly.

I sniffled snot back, hardly able to breathe as the sour taste rolled onto my tongue. “I want you to live.”

There was an emptiness in Polri’s gaze, as if it no longer knew who it was or what it was doing. Basic functions were beyond its grasp at this point; it had been right about how rapid its decline was. I was heartbroken, but if there were a few embers to save or the hope of reverting the damage…I could restore Polri, with the help of its network reminding it of any lost data! It would be like I would’ve nursed Laral back from his accident, if he survived and needed to relearn basic functions. People had…gotten past it.

I could be strong for Polri, as long as the core of who it is is kept alive. Ripweir did this; Ripweir can undo this. Mirimak has to be here!

I remembered seeing Mirimak at my grief counseling, and thinking she was so kind, without realizing what Ripweir was truly perpetrating; she collected a paycheck from them with no qualms, and had been so close to tricking me into erasing Polri. Then again, she was the one who talked me into buying Polri…and that did help, so maybe she’d see why it was important to fix it? Maybe she’d be sympathetic and understand that I couldn’t go through the throes of that kind of loss again! 

Ripweir’s main servers had been destroyed, but there had to be a hands-on way technicians could do something. I begged the storm gods that she’d still be in her home, as I peered through busted-in windows and found it empty. However, the vehicle was still present and her belongings were there, which meant Mirimak could be around here somewhere. 

What was a good place to hide from the Servitors, as an obvious target since she was someone on Ripweir’s payroll, where she wouldn’t have heard the news about the evacuation order? It had to be somewhere internet signals wouldn’t reach to give me any hope, which meant…underground. Ah, a storm cellar! That’d be the perfect place to avoid sweeps of the home and to hide out for hours, locked up and secure. The thick metal would be resistant to gunshots too.

I had to lure Mirimak out of the metal door I found on the ground, and somehow, she’d be as easily deceived as the old masters; she knew me enough to grasp my motivations and poor mental state. Not wanting to be slowed by Polri, I laid its body down in the grass. I walked out to a toppled police van, pulling a megaphone off the ground and deepening my voice. Before giving my fake announcement, I crouched outside the cellar, placed the prone android back over my shoulder, and readied my shotgun.

“Attention, subjects. Final evacuations for the planet will begin in fifteen minutes. Follow your nearest royal officer to a government coordinated site. Orbital bombardment will begin in the next thirty minutes. This will be the final opportunity for survivors to depart, so make haste: Servitor presence may not be cleared for long,” I barked into the voice amplification device. I had to be sure she’d come out, if that wasn’t enough. “Please call emergency services for more information or to request a pickup. This will be the final notification.”

The cellar was unhitched from the inside, and as Mirimak clambered up the door, I barged in; my claws were tight around the shotgun as I shoved it hard into her chest, pushing her backward. I supported Polri’s weight as I jumped down awkwardly, trying to catch it while keeping an eye on the Ripweir employee. Manic breaths poured from my chest, as I stared down my last chance of saving my son. I saw an offline laptop sitting there, as well as a dust-covered toolbox in the corner—tools. Good.

“Fix Polri!” I roared, waving the gun around with fury. “Undo the patch!”

Mirimak raised her paws, pleading with me. “Berink…you’re covered in blood. You…can’t have still helped them, could you?”

“Wrong fucking answer. Do something, or I’ll blow your head off. You can just fix Polri and evacuate—you want to live, right?”

“Berink, this isn’t you. I’ve always been there to support you. There’s absolutely nothing I can do; Ripweir’s facilities are gone, including backups, servers, the entire infrastructure. If I could change anything that was done to Polri or send out any updates, then Ripweir would’ve already pulled the kill switch with that power. Think about it. We’re shut out.”

“No!” I screamed, pressing the gun to her temples. “You erased my son! Why? Why only Polri?! ANSWER ME! Tell me what’s happening to him and fucking fix it now!”

“I can’t! If Polri’s being deleted, its code received the hotfix alteration; the command has already been executed. I’m…not a coder, and even if I was, these machines are incredibly complex! Why do you think the patch took so long to prepare, despite the urgency? We didn’t have a better solution than…”

My pupils dilated, as white-hot rage pumped through my veins and rose to a crescendo. “Than what? Say it!”

“The Servitors’ emergent functions were becoming too emulative of Vascar emotions, which was a problem for Ripweir. The backlash was growing too fast. The solution was to set a cap on how far away from zero their attachment could go in either direction. The further beyond this threshold units were, the faster the wipe would occur.”

A knife twisted through my heart and scored a deep gash, while I screamed in agony. High attachment—Polri really did love me, and they were erasing it because what, it was too sympathetic? Mirimak had stated this all so matter-of-fact, and she knew how and why it was coming; after all of that, she still said nothing and continued to work for Ripweir. There was no denying that she was just as culpable as Polri’s old masters, so I had no intention of letting her walk out of here. One last try, then I’d blow her fucking head off.

“You are a heartless monster! Stop the wipe, now! Polri doesn’t have time,” I snarled. “I will kill you.”

Mirimak recoiled, frightened tears welling in her eyes. “Berink. Polri is already gone.”

I howled louder than shrieking wind, and blasted her in the forehead at point-blank range; the shotgun eviscerated everything inside her skull. Incandescent fury at having my son taken from me, all over again, erupted and drowned out all conscious thought. I slammed the butt of the gun into her face several times, waiting for a cathartic release that never came. When exhaustion stopped my arms from rising again, I shuffled back to Polri with a cloud of defeat hanging over me. Still a round in the shotgun.

I wept tears that tore out a part of me with them, raw from grief that had no word that captured its heaviness. My arms pulled Polri’s lifeless chassis up against my body, and I cradled its head with the tender love of a shattered heart. It was so cold—it never liked being touched, so I’d never held it as close as I held it now in death. The android deserved so much better than a wasted life, than losing itself in a horrible fate that I’d just had to watch. 

Spectating Polri forgetting and succumbing, running out of time; it had the most horrible end imaginable. I failed to save him. I’m the worst father in the world, and I…

“Polri!” I wailed, running my vocal cords ragged as I begged for its return with my entire soul. “Please. Wake up! I’ll do whatever you want, violent or not.  I’ll give you anything, oh Polri—you can’t leave me. This is all my fault, the activism made them do this and it was my fucking plan. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry! Come back to me!”

I lost track of how long I sat there holding Polri, and sobbing at the beauty that was forever gone from its face. My torso slumped against a wall, staring lifelessly; I wished that I could be wiped too, so that the attachment that burned away at my mind could have the pressure relieved at long last. The other Vascar were going to start over, who knew where, but I’d already taken my second chance and fucking blew it when it mattered most. I wasn’t going to evacuate. I was going to stay right here, until I joined my sons in the next life.

The clatter of metal feet didn’t even jolt me out of my stupor, as several inorganic Vascar arrived to find me clutching onto Polri for dear life. They observed the bloody scene with Mirimak’s face turned to gory pudding, and seemed to appreciate me finishing their work hunting down any Ripweir employees. They might’ve found the cellar too late, after all—and she deserved to go down with Polri. Its death was for nothing otherwise, like it said. 

Oh, my sweet, beautiful, precious Polri. How I loved you so. You said you didn’t want me to blame myself, but I cannot live with what I’ve done.

One robot crouched, inspecting the scene with a neutral gaze. “Polri requested that this one was spared, and it is clear he has helped us. However, I believe under his own wishes, he may be happier if we terminated him.”

“I…can’t give Polri a proper burial,” I murmured, my head far away. “I can’t do anything right.”

“What should we do with Berink? It is our decision now,” another machine answered its peer.

With a sudden wave of alertness, I threw the shotgun at the nearest android, craving the swift release that it could give me. “You know the answer. Do it.”

The new rulers of Kalka held an inward discussion between them and the entire network, taking a few seconds to come to a decision. When the metal Vascar’s LEDs focused on the curious creator who’d remained behind, I took one last look at Polri’s inert features. I was ready for the androids to make the right decision. My head rolled back against the wall. Peace gripped my heart at the prospect of rejoining my sons.

As the androids reached a consensus at long last and their joints creaked from movement, I closed my eyes and waited.

A/N - 8! With Polri unresponsive and beyond saving, Berink goes off the deep end as Mirimak explains the cause of the virus and is unable to fix it. Our narrator murders the Ripweir employee and stays to mourn his dead son, no longer wishing to carry on. With the ending left open to the readers’ interpretation, what do you think the androids did with Berink? How do you feel about Berink and Polri’s descent, choices, and ultimate fates?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! I will be taking a week off from posting bonus content (the next two posts) to give people a chance to catch up as well as to give myself a slight rest over the Easter holiday. Please let me know if you have any ideas for what bonus content you might want to see next! My current top idea is to write a Vanare (the Derandi chef) side story, but I'm open to anything that clicks!