The Machines

The Machines

 Humanity teeters on the brink of extinction. A population that once numbered 8 billion has dwindled to a mere 10 million. Decades ago, an alien race known as the Machines invaded Earth and conquered it after a brutal 20-year war. Humanity, outmatched, lost the war and the survivors were enslaved by their conquerors.

The Machines resemble humans in form but surpass them in every physical aspect. A single Machine possesses the strength of 50 humans, with tough, metallic-infused skin that resists regular blades and can withstand anything less than a .50 caliber bullet—though even that is rarely fatal. Their superior speed, strength, and resilience made them nearly invincible, a key factor in humanity's defeat.

In the aftermath, some humans turned traitor, serving the Machines as spies and informants. These collaborators, driven by greed and ambition, betray their own kind, exposing resistance fighters and saboteurs in exchange for favor and higher status in the Machines' society. Their treachery has infiltrated nearly every human enclave, sowing distrust and fear.

The surviving humans, reduced to slaves, are confined to concentration camps, each housing exactly 100 individuals—50 men and 50 women. These slaves toil to plant and harvest food for the Machines and obey their every command. To ensure a steady supply of labor, the Machines force the slaves to breed, intending to repopulate desolate cities under their control.

Outside the camps, small pockets of resistance struggle to fight back. Lacking manpower and resources, these rebels focus on developing weapons capable of piercing the Machines' near-impenetrable skin and freeing enslaved humans. However, the constant threat of betrayal by informants has forced them to scale back their operations, wary of exposure. Despite the odds, their resolve to overthrow the Machines and liberate humanity burns fiercely, even as hope dwindles.

PRESENT DAY:

Su, a 60-year-old survivor of the Machines' invasion, sat in the common room of the rebel hideout, a bunker buried deep beneath one of the abandoned cities. It was her gift that had guided them to this sanctuary, revealing to her that the Machines could not survive underground. Su possessed a rare ability to see beyond the fabric of time, though these visions came unpredictably, beyond her control. On this day, exhausted after her shift monitoring the Machines' movements, she was ready to collapse. Her eyes drooped intermittently, and she shook herself to stay awake. She planned to speak with their leader, Victor, before retiring for the night.

A sudden commotion at the door caught her attention. She looked up to see Victor approaching. Smiling, she attempted to stand, but her vision blurred, and she staggered. A strong hand steadied her, and her voice shifted to a prophetic tone: "Look for a child with the sign of heaven on his palm. He will be the one to save humanity, possessing the strength of a thousand men. Beware of betrayal, for the child's life will be in danger. Seek this child by following the first star that appears in the sky."

Su collapsed after her prophecy, succumbing to exhaustion. Victor stood frozen, reeling from her words about the project. He turned to face the rebels not on duty, their eyes fixed on him, expectant and uneasy. He knew he had to act before the situation spiraled out of control. Gently, he lifted Su and laid her on a nearby sofa, her face pale but peaceful in sleep. Then, he faced the group, his mind racing with thoughts of traitors among them.

Clearing his throat, he began, “You all heard that, didn’t you?”

The rebels nodded, some with tears in their eyes, knowing the end of their struggle was near and their burden would soon pass to another.

“What does it mean?” one rebel asked, voice trembling.

Victor glanced at Su, a flicker of care softening his gaze. “Su has the gift of sight,” he said. “She just prophesied about our savior.”

“He’s still a child,” another rebel interjected. “That means he hasn’t been born yet—or he has, and we need to find him.”

“Yes,” Victor said with a heavy sigh, “but finding him won’t be easy. Both the child and those searching for him could be in grave danger.”

“So, how do we do it?” another rebel pressed.

“We’ll need eyes in every camp, starting today,” Victor declared. “That’s our top priority.”

“Security’s too tight in the camps,” a rebel countered, shaking his head.

“Then we’ll contact them in the fields while they work,” Victor replied, his tone resolute.

“But how?” someone else asked, skepticism lacing their voice.

“That’s on me,” Victor said, his face grim. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“No!” The rebels protested in unison, their voices rising into a chaotic clamor. Seeing disorder about to take hold, Victor raised his hands and shouted, “Silence!”

George sat beside his wife, Susan, on the thin mattress in their cramped, dormitory-like room. The space was stark, containing only a creaky bunk, a small table tucked in the corner, and their few clothes hanging on a rusted nail in the wall. He sighed, his gaze heavy as he watched Susan, pregnant and pale, shift uncomfortably on the lumpy mattress. The springs beneath poked through, a constant reminder of their harsh reality. Why now? he thought. Why must this happen when humanity is crumbling?

Susan’s eyes met his, sharp despite her pain. “I know that look,” she said, her voice strained.

“What look?” George asked, trying to mask his worry.

“You’re scared for the baby. And… there’s regret in your eyes.”

“Of course I’m worried,” he admitted, his voice low. “But regret? Never. I just don’t want our child born into slavery.”

“Son?” Susan raised an eyebrow, wincing as another contraction hit. “What makes you so sure it’s a boy?”

George managed a weak smile. “In my family, they say if the mother’s in this much pain, it’s a boy.”

She swatted his hand weakly. “That’s no excuse for superstition.”

He squeezed her hand gently, his face darkening. “What are we going to do, Susan? I don’t know how to fix this.”

Her grip tightened, her voice fierce despite her pain. “We need to find the rebels.”

“Hush!” George hissed, glancing nervously at the door. “That’s dangerous talk. You know what the Machines do to traitors.”

“We’re already in danger,” Susan countered, her eyes blazing. “Every day here is a cage.”

“Don’t say that so loudly,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “If someone hears, we’re finished.”

Susan’s jaw set, her hand resting on her swollen belly. “My child will not be born into slavery, George. Find the rebels. Get us out of here.”

After everyone had quieted, Victor lowered his raised hand and said, "My people, this is not about me or you. It's not about what we want, but about humanity's survival. We must look beyond our comfort and safety for the general emancipation of the human race." He paused, meeting their eyes, and seeing some with firm resolve, he continued, "If I must do this, so be it. We are all expendable. We must remember that we could die any day, so we must make our deaths worthwhile. Every life lost is a sacrifice to free humanity from this bondage. If I die, do not worry; another will take my place. We are all leaders here. Please allow me to do this, so we can free the savior of our people."

A general murmur arose among the people, some agreeing, others dissenting. Victor waited until the murmuring ceased, then continued, "To those of you who are traitors, think carefully before passing information to the Machines. Consider if you prefer a collar around your neck or to be free."

"That is absurd! There are no traitors here," a man at the back said. "We are all risking our lives."

"Say what you will," Victor replied, "but I know we have a traitor among us."

To be continued...