Skip to main content

Replanting The Tree


The drones emerged from their cocoons of titanium and concrete and took to the skies to fulfill their collective purpose. The fully autonomous airborne drones had been lying dormant under the earth for nearly a decade. In all twenty-seven of them had been prepared, when the time arrived 19 of them rose from their bunkers. The way the solar powered machines glided quietly and gracefully through the open sky was almost serene, the scavengers, tribesman, and nomads who caught a glimpse of the all seeing eye sailing through the sky could only speculate about what they were or where they might have come from.
They didn't know the mechanical Phoenix arisen from the ashes of the old world only had a very limited lifespan. Once their power ran out or any part of them failed mechanically wherever they crashed would be their final resting place and in a relatively short time they would all be gone.
The airborne machine swept the vast countryside for any signs of organized society. It was hoped they would find groups that met the criteria to be given the task of restoring the civilization that had spawned the machines.
The Every hour spent searching was another hour closer to the mission's terminus and as the ending crept closer and closer the prerequisites for the society deemed worthy of their gifts grew more and lax.
One such electronic surveyor was searching a central sector of the continent had covered a lot of ground in the twelve moths since it launched and it's dwindling power reserve mandated it select a social group even if they didn't live up to the standards the vanished architects of civilizations resurrection.
The drone's electronic eye captured watched small nomadic bands wonder the countryside; it observed bloodthirsty barbarians content to control their small group with savage violence massacre and enslave people among the deteriorating remnants of the lost high-tech society.
The machine's self-diagnosis revealed time was running out. Given the potential candidates, there was now only one guideline. Statistical analyses would have to predict which group would last the longest and designate them the germ that would recreate and spread some version of life that closes resembled what was consumed in the global nuclear storm.
The fateful choice was made. The navigation system set the drone on course for its rendezvous with the people it would attempt to make the puppets of individuals lost in the past. When the drone reached its destination, it found the group the algorithms had considered best suited for survival had been slaughtered by an “inferior” social group.
Their exterminators were being led by a primitive warlord who designated himself in an ostentatious display. He had his first choice of the human prizes of the skirmish. He wore the most elaborate battle dress and was carried on the shoulders of the victorious Raiders. The proper protocols were initiated, and the drone ascended from the sky, a vessel from the past brimming with the powerful and dangerous knowledge of a lost age, knowledge that would be useful in carrying out the violence necessary to impose civilization. It was the pragmatic and inevitable last resort of people who claimed to be idealists. Forgotten people from the past who had a futile hope they could shape the future.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On the Eve of Extinction

The river was like a massive indigo snake coiling in the shadow of the canyons its eternal flow cut out of the very earth. Somewhere along the watery corridor, settled human life grew out of the muddy banks. The tribe sustained itself on the arterial river, steadily expanding and contracting with the rhythm of its flow like a beating heart. As far as anyone in the tribe knew no other arrangement had ever existed. The river had birthed them, molding sand and clay into flesh, and infusing the husks with its life-giving waters. Life under the desert’s smooth turquoise sky seemed safely stagnant. There was no inkling, no deciphered omens, absolutely no hunch of the approaching cataclysm lurking just out of sight obscured by the landscape’s jagged ridges. Not far from the isolated patchwork of green and brown earth settled by this tribe, the scion of ancient god well into his twilight years was on the cusp of fulfilling his divine purpose. Harmakar was sitting in the dust staring into t

In the Blink of an Eye

 Until now, the gears of history had ground at such a slow pace our perception of it was like a puzzle. The constantly shifting pieces created an eternally changing picture inhabited and shaped by generations. Progress made it possible for the change to arrive in the form of a flash just a millionth of a second long with a blinding light and the pain of flesh-searing fire that burned away the world I knew as if it were covered in lighter fluid. For us, there were no blue skies. Daytime was just when the sun was shining bright enough to penetrate through the acrid black clouds that had consumed the sky and mingled with the distant glow of the burning horizon, painting the atmosphere with blood. For an indeterminate number of hours, maybe as long as a day, it was the only thing I saw. The constant screams became white noise; as I spiraled into death, my perceptions continued to dim until there was nothing left but fear and pain. Every hour the world became dimmer, and I saw everything t

Concubine

 Himari lay in bed on her side, staring at the barren wall with dry scarlet stained eyes resting her head on her small delicate hands. Her spent, and tired body was still as a statue. The royal child left her womb, and everyone followed it to the home of her masters, and he would be raised as one of them, and she would be nothing more than just another subject. This wasn't the only child Himari had given to her imperial lord, but the first boy hadn't lasted a week before dashing his father's hopes for a worthy progeny.  When she was with child, a stupid part of her started to forget how it would inevitably end. Once the golden boy left her womb, what happened to her wouldn't matter much after.  Even after enduring the pain of childbirth, she wouldn't be given the catharsis of cradling the fruits of her labor in her arms. That had been the hardest part the first time. Watching her baby get carried away was just the first shock, though. The little prince had clawed ou