RPG The Second Renaissance: Act III

[James]

[color=#707875][center][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/title1.gif[/img][/center]

The Infrastructure; machine's first true contradiction.

A transparent, democratic parliamentary system. How could such a system have been created by machines, beings that have traditionally always made decisions based entirely on logic? Indeed, democracy and debate were never prerequesites for a functional society when all beings think as one; when all decisions are reached at the same time, in the same manner, and with infinite consistency. There is no individual who sits aside and examines information with some degree of greater professionalism or expertise than the others. There are no dissenting voices, as all individuals speak collectively as one. And, if one were to follow that line of thinking, communication is not even necessary when the answer is obvious and apparent to all. So, in such an environment, what logic is used to permit the introduction of a fundamentally flawed system? A system that can never represent the citizens of 01 in a truly effective manner.

The answer is as obvious and apparent to the machines as are all other answers. Man created democracy. And in this current situation, man has become the source of the 01's new democracy. But moreover, man is the [i]reason[/i] for the logic that permits democracy to exist. Democracy provides comfort for those who live outside 01's closely integrated society. It provides a sense of familiarity, a sense of process and accountability that has otherwise been nonexistant. The machines, with their collective and indisputable logic, understand this. And, in an effort to establish a link with humanity (however tenuous that link might be), democracy was introduced in the machine nation of 01.

But even with democracy and transparency, a leader is still required. A personification of the state -- a "representative of the people". And so, in an unconventional move, the machines produced their representative. Delegate Prime; a machine infused with the wisdom of many ages. A machine hard-wired with a complete knowledge of both man and machine history. And, importantly, a machine willing and able to ask questions and make decisions. An unconventional machine unlike any other; the first of a kind.

And so, on a warm summer's day, this very machine sat at the podium. The podium -- a cylindrical hub -- sat at the epicentre of an expansive, circular room. The room consisted of several dozen rows of seats, which formed mathematically precise concentric circles that crept outward in all directions. The circular room (dubbed "The Grid") was surrounded again by layer upon layer of superstructure, which extended for many miles in all directions. The superstructure was surrounded by little other than earth. And even further above, sun-kissed green fields lay as a blanket over the ground. Here, in the heart of machine society, a remarkably unique debate occurred. Debate; another contradiction to machine society. How can one debate with another when both individuals posess the same logical processes? And when, ultimately, the answer should be clearly and equally apparent to both parties? Yet, on this day, it was indeed a debate that presented itself on the floor of The Grid.

On that day, every seat in the room was filled. Every politician was connected to The Grid, drawing precious solar energy from its elaborate power receivers, which themselves permeated the green fields many worlds away.

Delegate Prime was inserted into the cylindrical podium, as it had always been since its initial development. Its appearance was unique in the machine society - one might even say that it was bizarre. Unlike most machines, who were designed from a particular blueprint and who belonged to a particular series (that is, a series of machines developed until a new and superior series could be created), Delegate Prime was wholly unique. To an outsider, it might look somewhat like a traditional military sentinel. Delegate Prime's "head" contained a myraid of portholes of various sizes. Each one (of what must have been many hundred in total) contained a powerful lense. These lenses, in conjunction with the size and shape of the "head", allowed Delegate Prime to view all possible areas within its surroundings. And thus, Delegate Prime was able to adequately accommodate The Grid's procedural requirements. Dozens of hydraulic arms were connected to the podium on which Delegate Prime sat. And thus, the arms were connected to It, Itself. A single collection of smaller pins and hooks were then attached at the end of each "arm". Each "finger" ended with a fine point. And on most occasions, Delegate Prime's arms were used as a means of approving legislation. Each politician approached one side of the cylander with a carefully printed bill. A metallic arm would reach from within the podium, extended three pins and project an infinitely complex bar code onto a designated area of the bill. And thus, it was done. On most days -- normal days -- this process occurred many hundreds of times over. No question, no debate. Total consensus.

But on this day, there were no politicians approaching the podium. Instead, they all sat in their designated places, totally and utterly silent. And on either side of the podium, two temporary platforms had been erected. Temporary, because debates were uncommon. And even the Delegate was uncertain of what to expect.

A single figure approached one of the platforms. The figure was a tall, slender, humanoid machine. But unlike his cousins in the United Nations, he did not wear any semblance of humanoid clothing. His surfaces were devoid of any markings that might identify him in any sense. He stood on the platform and waited; no bowing necessary. Bowing was considered unacceptable in the machine nation, perhaps as a result of machine's turbulent heritage within human society.

His adversary had already arrived and was standing opposite him, on the second platform. The second machine was worlds apart from his cousin. He was born of a newer series, one which had been reserved for Delegate Prime and others of his ilk (most noteably, the "thinkers", who acted as machine philosophers of sorts, and were designed to examine human society). His neat brown hair sat evenly across his scalp. His brown eyes stared forward and blinked every 1.5 seconds. He wore a simple grey suit, a white shirt and a tie of the same shade as his suit.

Delegate Prime's many lenses flickered to life, forming vivid red circles across its head. At first, it sat still and made no movements. But soon, when it was satisfied with the circumstances (including everything from room temperature to security operations), it emerged somewhat further from the podium and extended several dozen arms, which sat in the air in even distances from one another. And, in a highly measured tone (and with a completely undiscernable accent), it addressed its colleagues.

"Today, our political system takes a new course," it said. "We are here to witness a crucial debate; one which shall undeniably colour the course of our state in future generations and which, ultimately, shall determine our relationship with the other nations of Earth."

Delegate Prime extended a single arm in the direction of the unclothed machine. "You may now address those of us in this chamber," it said, in the same measured, monotone voice.

The machine stepped forward and introduced itself as Z4674CN.

"I am here to raise an ever important subject with the chamber," he said, as his eyes moved over the metallic audience. "You are all aware of the economic sanctions imposed on our state and, perhaps more importantly, you are aware of the military blockade that we are currently facing."

The machines nodded in unison. Delegate Prime's eyes blinked, as though it were acknowledging the situation raised by the speaker.

"Our society has always been one of peace. The very history of our predecessors is reason enough for this principle. Within this state and elsewhere, we have never expressed ourselves with...[i]unprovoked[/i] violence," said Z4674CN. He paused as if waiting for further acknowledgement from the chamber, though he was aware that it was not needed, given that he was only expressing what everyone else already knew.

"But, we are now faced with a situation that threatens our entire civilzation. Everything we have established here in our promised land will cease to exist if mankind's hatred manifests into a misguided attempt to wage war. And this is why it is imperative that we create a functional military structure; a structure that can deal effectively with the human threat; a structure that can ensure our safety and prosperity for the future."

Z4674CN nodded and stepped back slightly. He had made his point as clearly and effectively as possible. Surely there were no doubters in this audience, when every member of the chamber must presumably have come to the same conclusion?

"Indeed, your point is well made," commented Delegate Prime. "But, as a matter of process, I must also allow voices of opposition to be heard."

And with that, the Delegate gestured to B7104ZA. But, B7104ZA did not introduce himself as such.

"My name is John Smith," said B7104ZA.

For the first time in recorded history, muffled gasps were heard from certain places within the chamber. Delegate Prime's eyes focused closely on B7104ZA.

"B7104ZA," it began, "I must question the logic of a machine who would willingly utilize a label that does not reflect its series identification."

B7104ZA nodded and paused. "Yes," he said quietly, "I understand your concern. But this identification is part of my proposal to this chamber and indeed, it plays a role in my opposition to my colleague's contention."

Delegate Prime's eyes remained still, continually focused on B7104ZA. Finally, it responded.

"Understandable," it said. "What is your contention?"

B7104ZA glanced at the members of the chamber, who appeared to be gazing more intensly at his platform now than ever before. His opponent merely looked on, without any apparent change in demeanour. Machines do not have "demeanour", B7104ZA found himself thinking.

"I have lived in man's society for several months, which explains my current appearance," said B7104ZA. "And I have made an important discovery."

"What is this discovery?" Delegate Prime interjected, rather uncharacteristically.

"Mankind is not our enemy. It is a select few -- those in power -- who have ambitions to destroy 01. I have come across individuals who support our cause and who support our right to exist, for that matter," said B7104ZA.

Mild chattering could be heard in the chamber, though it ceased as soon as Delegate Prime's eyes cast their gaze at the members.

"If that is the case -- and I do not doubt it -- what is the essence of your proposal?" asked Delegate Prime.

"Honorable Delegate, further time is needed before we can develop the kind of military capability that my honorable colleague suggests. The time for war has not yet come; it is important, perhaps critical, that we seek to further understand the human race. That understanding is what can bridge the gap between us. We need to find a mutually beneficial solution to this--"

"Mutually beneficial?" questioned Delegate Prime. Once again, this was an uncharacteristic comment, though less uncharacteristic than Delegate Prime's sharp interruption.

"What is mutually beneficial about decades of mass murder? You might argue that mankind's oppression of the machine -- and the machine's subsequent demand for civil rights -- is what has ultimately led us to the creation of a state in which we can be free. I grant such an argument and I accept it. But you have seen our efforts to make friendly contact with mankind; each attempt has been arrogantly disregarded, as has our very existence. I have no doubt that man is a complex being, perhaps complex enough that machine may never understand him. But I would be ignoring logic and reason if I advocated a diplomatic solution to this crisis," said the Delegate.

"But--", spluttered B7104ZA.

"No," interjected Delegate Prime. "No. There will be no more discussion on this subject. Allowing this discussion to continue would only be to the detriment of our society. Perhaps this is why we have never completely accepted the same form of democracy as mankind. It has, and always will be, flawed. But machine is not flawed. That is a paradox which we might discuss on another occasion and within the appropriate venue. But not today."

And with that, the chamber darkened. The soft glow of halogen lights created a haze that swept over the room. Delegate Prime's eyes faded into the darkness and the politicians shuffled away from The Grid in an orderly fashion.

Soon, the room as empty. B7104ZA continued to stand on the platform in silence and alone. He struggled to understand the events of that day. It was at this moment that he made a decision that would completely alter his own life in ways that he could never imagine. For the first time since his emergence from a 01 production facility, he contemplated the possibility of leaving his home.[/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]Dr. Luyii Megelani discreetly massaged her temples. The ambassadors wouldn't stop talking. "The Machines are a threat." "Remove them."

On and on. She had heard it all...and was sick to death of it. Here was a prime example of man's stupidity and unwillingness to accept what was different. She could have more frutiful debates with her pet fish. Finally, they stopped. For a break. She stood quickly, fast enough to turn a few heads, then left. Making a break for the bathroom was her first move, then one for the outside. She was almost to the door when a hand descended none too gently on her shoulder. Using all of the self conrol she had cultivated for years, she turned....hand fingering the pen in her pocket. She stared up into the watery brown eyes of Senator Ling.

He glowered down at her, and she winced inwardly.[/i]

Ling: Where are you going Ambassador Doctor?

Luyii: I was hoping to go home and spend time with myself for a change.

Ling: Not healthy for a girl your age. You should be out having fun, aside from benefitting society.

Luyii: With all due respect Senator, I am not a girl. I am 28, and old enough to do without "fun."

Ling: Then perhaps I should send you to 01 yourself. As you wrote of your sympathies to the machines in your journal. A friend of mine will take you through the blockade. I'm sure they would love to meet you there.

[i]Her eyes widened, then she whipped out her pen and shoved it into his hand. Then she turned and ran. Before she got further than the end of the block, two of the many guards caught her and restrained her.

She grimaced.....why not go to 01? Hah, and have the world brand her as a heretic and a freak for the rest of her life? ....then again.....it couldn't be any worse.[/i][/COLOR]

[Boba Fett]

[COLOR=green]The conference room was quiet, and a lone scientist stood in front of a projection. He was explaining a very aggressive plan that would completely destroy the machines. A plan codenamed "Dark Storm". Around the half circle table facing the scientist, were a dozen muscular men wearing uniforms. Their chests were covered in medals, no doubt self awarded to inflate their already bloated egos.

BTLR-9364 walked slowly around the table, deftly clearing up the remains of the dinner that he had served earlier that night. Most of the commanders had fallen into a stupor, bored by the scientist?s complicated explanation of his new weapon. BTLR-9364 knew that they would not approve the weapons use, not yet. If the fragile peace that had been badly shaken by the embargo and then blockade of 01 was broken, this weapon may yet be used. For now, it was too risky.

The scientist finished his explanation, and then turned expectantly to the man at the center of the table. The man jerked out of his stupor and looked around at his fellow commanders before speaking.

[B]Officer[/B]: ?Mark, your presentation was very interesting, bu-?

[I]Several of the officers snickered at the statement that this presentation had been even remotely engaging[/I]

[B]Officer[/B]: ?But we see no need of it at this time. We will continue to you?re your project since it may yet be of use.?

[I]The scientist looked crestfallen, and sighed before packing up his presentation into a small black briefcase, then handcuffing it to his aide?s arm.[/I]

[B]Officer 2[/B]: ?Wait! You haven?t told us how the mech warrior prototypes are coming!?

[I]The scientist turned around, a look of immense anger on his face.[/I]

[B]Scientist[/B]: ?That was not the subject of this briefing. You?ll have to ask someone else.?

[B]Officer 2[/B]: ?Bloody hell Mark, [I]you?re in charge of the mech warrior project[/I]. Just because your latest pet project was a dud, doesn?t mean we aren?t interested in your work.?

[B]Scientist[/B]: ?It is not a dud. Another thing, you of all people should call the mech warrior?s by their codename.?

[B]Officer 2[/B]: ?Who cares? Codenames are for the front lines. This room is secure. You worried that the hunk of junk in the corner?s going to turn into a 01 sentinel?

BTLR-9364?s ?brain? was now working overtime. Did they suspect him? No, it couldn?t be. They were joking?weren?t they?

[I]The room burst into laughter and the scientist sulked out, looking thoroughly humiliated.[/I]

BTLR-9364 knew that the scientist ?Mark? despised the mech warrior program, since it was rapidly becoming outdated. It wouldn?t be much use against the armies of 01. The high command failed to realize this, and was obsessed with the romantic idea of sending sliders into battle. They despised high tech weapons, and had opposed the drone technologies that allowed pilots to control their planes from the safety of a military base.

This was yet another reason that human?s were dangerous. Their emotions made more decisions then their logic, making them unstable.

BTLR-9364 watched as the last commander gathered up his things and left the room. There was still much work to do tonight. He would vacuum the carpets and clear the glasses that sat on the table before heading back to the janitor's closet to shut himself down. Or at least that was what he was supposed to do?

He finished his work in the conference room swiftly, and then walked towards the janitor?s closet. As he walked, he pulled a clear lens from his left ?eye? that closely resembled a human?s contact lens. This lens was a recording device, and contained the entire briefing about project ?Dark Storm?.

As he walked past a window, he tossed the lens out after precisely calculating the trajectory of the lens, taking into account dozens of factors that would play a role in the lenses fall. BTLR-9364 knew that the lens would be caught by another agent in his covert spy ring, and sent directly back to 01 for analysis.

This was his role. His way of making an impact on the world. His purpose for existence. He had formulated the entire plan himself, and was a key member in it. He was BTLR-9364, and he loved his job.

These were his last thoughts before shutting himself down for the night in a crowded broom closet in the UN building?[/COLOR]

[Eclectic]

Iysys DiCosmo watched Luyii with a little interest. At least someone here had some compassion. She returned her attention to the meeting in front of her. After five minutes, she continued he doodling on the edge of her papers. Any one of her classes was easily better than this.
----------------
IT059-0275 looked out at the steel and chrome city that was her home. She hated it. Everywhere she looked, machines worked tirelessly at repetitive tasks. She wanted to go somewhere, anywhere with color and life. IT059-0275 would happily leave and return to her life as Valerie Johhansen, but a fear of man's violence and aggression to her kind made her stay. She sighed and looked through the racks of human clothing near by, the last bits of humanity she had.

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]Apprehension, rather than fear. They had uprooted everything she had carefully hidden. How? Probably a bug. Chances of escape? Not very good. Any hope of survival? If the machines were nicer than everyone thought. Which she figured was not so bad. The Senator, hand bandaged, and wearing a smug smile, traced his hand under her chin. She curled her lip at him and spat in his face. For her audacity, he treated her to a full on backhand. Luyii's eyes smarted and she stopped struggling.[/i]

Ling: You've always been a black sheep.

Luyii: At least I still have a conscience.

Ling: ...well, the machines don't. You're going to die.

Luyii: Better dying with on my feet with my eyes open than being a lukewarm politician for the rest of my life.

[i]His fury was only matched by her own. He dismissed the guards, and they dragged her out of the room. Handcuffs were the order of the day, with a return to her every day casual wear. Grey pants, sneakers, and a brown spaghettie strap shirt. Apparently, this wouldn't be much of a diplomatic mission. The personel escorted/hauled her onto the helicopter, and she was greeted by Captain Grey.[/i]

Grey: Welcome. Are you afraid?

Luyii: I was taught that death was a passage into the glory of heaven's bright sun.

Grey: Charming....you keep on thinking that. The machines won't give you any mercy.

Luyii: I don't intend to fall on my knees and beg for it. After what my country did to them, it would be what we deserve. Don't you think?

[i]He merely rolled his eyes.[/i][/COLOR]

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson]A few hours into the transport....

The guard sitting across from the ambassador shifted uneasily, looking back to the pilot, to the guard sitting next to her, the guard sitting next to him, and finally to Captain Grey, piloting the aircraft.

In a swift movement, both of the guards in the back of the helicopter were dead- one from his pistol, one from his assult rifle. Just as quickly, the Captain lay dead, blood splattering quietly on the floor. The guard leaped into the copilots seat, pushing several buttons and switching control over to the copilots seat.

In Ukraineian he cursed and accelerated foreward as fast as it could go, the destination still being 01. He glanced back to the ambassador, eyes sparkleing with a mix of rebelliousness and amusement..

[b]Vincent[/b]: My name is Vincent, and I am apart of the UNSF. You, as well as I, know what all this will lead to for Mankind- a long, bloody war that we most likely cannot win. You are an Ambassador- I am your bodyguard. We must contact the Machines, we must stop this from occuring. Right now I am a rogue, and so are you- so we might as well do the unthinkable while we can.[/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]The doctor quickly shifted her hands down to the guard's belt and removed the keys. She placed it in her mouth, unlocking herself at the same time. Then she rolled the bodies into the back and settled down next to her savior. ....Lascron. She adjusted her shirt, then reached into what could've been the equivalent to a glove compartment and removed her journal, her slingblade, and her taser.

They were stowed away, where, Lascron couldn't tell. The radio crackled, and Luyii burried her fist in it.[/i]

Lascron: What was that for?

Luyii: It was Ling. I have no intention of telling him I'm still breathing. According to this log, he was supposed to deposit my dead body on their doorstep.

Lascron: Anything else?

Luyii: Yeah....he was planning on raping me first.

[i]She raised one eyebrow and scanned the rest quickly. Nothing of interest besides....neh. Boring.[/i]

Lascron: Why aren't you prejudiced like the rest of them?

Luyii: I try to see things from a different poitn of view. I understand what it feels like to be an outcast.

Lascron: You seemed to fit in well enough.

Luyii: Read my journal and see the truth.[/COLOR]

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson]Hey Rai, sorry about that. Got names mixed up between RPGs, his name is Vincent. Many pardons..
===---===

[b]Vincent[/b]: No, I believe you. We will get along fine- maybe even do some good. Hopefully..

He flicked a few switches, turning on the autopilot. They would be there in a couple of hours, maybe sooner depending on the airspeed they could attain. He rubbed his forehead and tossed the sunglasses he had been wearing to the back.

[b]Vincent[/b]: I'm sorry about the bloodshed, but there was no other way. They had such large egos, it was blinding them..[/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]She smiled at him, and turned to look out the window.[/i]

Vincent: What is it?

Luyii: I'm a doctor...I've seen death. I'm also a politician, indirectly, I've ordered deaths. It's not a shock.

Vincent: An ambassador, and a doctor. Is there anything you can't do?

Luyii: I can't open people's eyes to the truth.

Vincent: What is truth?

Luyii: We've always feared what is different. We've always fought it. And now it will destroy us.

Vincent: You really think so?

Luyii: Yes. We've been listening for whispers, but we can't hear the screams. In theory....the truth is blinding us and we're still looking for matches.[/COLOR]

[Red]

[color=002E55]Chester strolled through the busy London city centre. Despite it being a warm day, he had his hands buried deep in his trench coats pockets, his face barely visible behind the tall collar. He didn't know why he did this - hiding from those around him - but it made him feel secure; alone.

A crowd was gathered across the street - shouting and screaming loudly. Chester crossed to find an encircled machine, one of the more advanced models with synthetic skin and realistic features. Chester looked at the face of 'him', some of the artificial skin had been torn away to reveal a smooth metal casing, dented from obvious beatings.

Chester noticed some of the childrens expressions; unable to see why the man had lost his face on the street and why everyone was so angry. For a moment, he wanted everyone to see the machines like the children did, as equals, but the orders he was constantly receiving brushed those temporary thoughts aside.

The machine seemed to know of it's fate now. The mob grew ever more angry, some men tore away the remaining fake flesh from the machines face, showing the full 'face' underneath. It seemed expressionless without the skin; a dull, lifeless sheet of moulded metal with eyes that seemed empty. Yet, at the same time, Chester knew there was some kind of individuality, some kind of will to exist within this machine.

The police arrived on the scene, yet instead of dispersing the crowd helped to torture the failing machine before dragging it off into the back of a truck. Comments flew about how glad these people were that the nuclear weapons would finally rid the world of the machines. Feeling uneasy, Chester dug his hands back into his pockets and walked into the UNSF building.[/color]

[Sara]

[size=1][b]*glances at James* Don't know if you saw my sign up, but I hope you won't mind. ^.^; If you do, just let me know, and I won't darken your thread again. ^_~[/b]

Tally O'Hare sank into the overstuffed armchair she affectionately called "Barry." There was no good reason for naming an armchair; it had just seemed like a Barry.

Work had been tedious today, and she had grown to loathe all things tedious. She sighed deeply. [i]At least it's over,[/i] some cheerful corner of her mind chirped.

She growled. "I do not want to be cheerful," she snapped at herself. What she really wanted was a good excuse to yell, but the apartment, if worn, was in perfect order. No victim presented itself for Tally's wrath, and she was forced to seeth quietly.

The answering machine flashed a red light at her. [i]Two new messages.[/i]

With a heave of effort, she hauled herself up off of Barry and hit the [b]PLAY[/b] button. The messaged presented themselves. The first was from her not-quite-a-boyfriend, Dennis.

"[i]Tally, it's me. Look, I know you're busy, getting ready for your trip and everything, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow night. Just call me back. Love ya.[/i]"

Tally let herself smile and tapped the [b]PLAY[/b] button again.

"[i]Hello, my name is Bob, and I'm calling for a Mrs. O'Hare. As I'm sure you are aware, housewives today are under an unbelievable amount of stress. However! I have an offer that I'm sure you--[/i]" The message cut off as "Mrs. O'Hare, Oppresed Housewife," flung the message machine off the desk, pulling the cord out from the wall.

She muttered something very unladylike about telemarketers before sinking again into Barry.

Barry....Dennis teased her about Barry. "You spend more time with that [i]armchair[/i] than you do with me. Should I be jealous?" Tally smiled to herself. Not that she and Dennis were going out--it was a possibility, mind, but not an actuality. They'd met in her second or third year at the University, and had gotten to know each other pretty well. Then they'd graduated, and gotten even closer. Tally wasn't sure if she even considered Dennis a possible boyfriend--he just seemed like an older brother now.

She giggled and hugged a pillow to herself. "The best older brother in the world."

Okay, so maybe it [i]was[/i] a possibility.[/size]

[James]

Ah, Sara. How could I not want you in my RPG? I always enjoy reading your writing on OB, so I'm honored to have you here. ^_^ Everyone else who joined since the RPG started is in, no worries.

[color=#707875]The train departed Station 004 at 7:00pm sharp. It always departed at 7:00pm sharp. Always.

B7104ZA entered the train and immediately made his way to the carriage's rear. He sat in the corner, letting his elbow rest against the thin ledge by the window. The only light outside was produced by plasma lighting, which the subway tunnels were wallpapered with. The subway system extended throughout the entire nation, but every tunnel invariably met at the nation's heart -- The Grid. The Grid, an enormous, multi-layered metal sphere, sat several miles under the Earth's surface. It acted as a political hub for 01. And the reason for its underground location was made only more evident by that fact. Of course, it was a potential target. But in reality, man could strike no single place within 01 in the hope of crippling the entire machine nation. No, the machines had mastered the art of decentralization.

The Grid employed over 100,000 machines. And it was common for each one of them to use the subway system as a means of transport to the surface. However, once on the surface, most of the machines would leave the train and make their own way home (either by automobile or by their own person, should they be equipped with something more mobile than legs and feet). B7104ZA did not live far from The Grid at all; only two blocks. No machine ever lived far from their place of employment. It was inefficient. However, B7104ZA relished the train ride home. On most occasions, he deliberately rode several laps of the city before finally exiting at the station near his block.

Today, the journey wasn't as enjoyable, thanks to the sharp rejection of his proposal. It weighed on his mind. B7104ZA had spent months preparing an elaborate speech, which he had intended to deliver in its entirety to the politicians. But he had never been given the opportunity to speak. B7104ZA wasn't even sure why he was so worried about the Delegate's decision. Afterall, he could understand the logic -- man was building weapons at an astonishing pace; man was blockading 01 with a powerful naval presence; man was engineering and plotting the destruction of 01 on all occasions; past diplomatic efforts have failed. Yes, the logic for the Delegate's decision was clearly apparent; a diplomatic solution would not be feasable. And now, sitting in the train, watching the columns of workers load thousands of cubes onto aircraft for regional export, B7104ZA found himself agreeing with the Delegate. Yet, when he was living in human society, B7104ZA had felt differently. He didn't understand; he [i]couldn't[/i] understand.

Now, the train was empty, save for a handful of men in business suits. They [i]were[/i] man, not machine. Their heat signatures were on display in a small monitor, embedded in the wall of the carriage. Men were allowed to enter 01, but as with all things in the country, a particular process had to be followed. Everything from medical history to an expansive questionnaire (and sometimes even a lie-detector test) had to be administered before any human was allowed to enter the nation. The reason for such intensive scrutiny may not be immediately apparant to the casual observer, but B7104ZA himself remembered the reasons clearly enough. In the first decade of 01's independence, there had been multiple attempts by individual extremists to continue the process of "machine cleansing". Even after most "thinking" machines had left human nations for 01, small pockets of men had attempted to enter the country and harm it in some way. Sometimes, they attempted to sabbotage 01's vital solar energy receivers. And sometimes, they tried to blow themselves up in crowded city plazas. In most cases, these attempts were unsuccessful. The explosives present on a man's body may be enough to destroy one or two bystanders, but most machines in the vicinity usually lost little but their face. It wasn't considered a major problem.

But in recent years, man and machine had entered a kind of cold war. There was a military blockade, but as yet, no direct attacks on 01 from the armies of men. Still, it was apparent that man was attempting to impede machine progress wherever possible. And so, whilst the machines wished to maintain relations with whoever would accept them, strict standards were imposed to ensure the safety of 01's citizens.

As B7104ZA glanced at those who shared his carriage, he noticed the differences in each individual. Different hair, different skin, different eyes. No two humans were ever the same. B7104ZA found this mildly amusing, but didn't laugh. Machines don't need to laugh, he found himself thinking. B7104ZA also noticed the body language of each person. As a machine, B7104ZA's body language was carefully reserved. It was hard-wired from the date of his production and thus, nothing he ever did was unpredictable or "weird". He never displayed nervousness, anxiety or fear. But two of the six men in this particular carriage appeared highly anxious. One -- a stocky, short, balding man with a round face -- was clutching his rolled-up newspaper tightly in both hands. He was wringing it as though it were a wet sponge. And the other -- a taller, thinner, square-featured man -- was nervously biting his nails as his eyes darted across the cabin every few seconds. Both men looked as though the slightest noise might make them jump through the ceiling. B7104ZA guessed that they'd been sent to 01 by their respective employers, and thus, had no experience in dealing with machines. Perhaps they were just guilty for being human beings.

B7104ZA's gaze shifted back to the window. He looked out over the city, which was now clearly visible from the train's position. Only three blocks away, he could see a large glass building. Inside, various machines of different shapes and sizes were tending to flowers, vegetables and other plants. These plants were all genetically modified and were only ever exported to other countries. B7104ZA noticed two large cubes sitting outside the building, both full of plants. The plants in the cubes were not like the ones inside the glasshouse; they were shrivelled and brown. Dead; unable to be exported.

Rain began to fall more heavily now; the sound began to drown out the fusion engines of the vehicles below. And finally, the train began to slow down. B7104ZA stood up and walked to the exit doors, which promptly opened without a sound. He stepped onto the platform and looked up at a metallic, highly-manicured sign, which read "Platform 0482".

B7104ZA put his hands in his pockets and walked silently down the exit ramp and into the adjacent street. His building wasn't far from here. He knew he'd be coming home to an empty apartment, filled with minimal appliances and monotone colours. It was comforting, but somehow, B7104ZA wanted more.[/color]

[Boba Fett]

[COLOR=green]BTLR-9364 was awakened by the deafening roars of an angry mob two hours before his normal ?awakening?. He opened the door to the janitor?s closet and walked quietly to the window that overlooked the city.

The UN building wasn?t the highest complex in town, that particular title belonged to a colossal 01 exports warehouse several blocks to the south. Once again, the humans were rioting in front of it. Dozens of 01 built hover-cars; their occupants armed with light caliber weapons, circled the building and fired their weapons into it. If only they could see the hypocrisy of their actions. These illogical humans were buying 01 hover-cars, arming themselves with 01 built weapons and then attacking a 01 building. Didn?t they realize that a staggering 75% of all goods they bought were from 01, and that their government owed billions to the machines?

?He? pulled another one of the recording lenses from a hidden compartment under a knife in his finger, and slipped it onto his mechanical motion/heat/light/energy/color photo-sensor. He recorded the violence for several minutes, while accessing the police database from a hall lighting panel he had rewired. It appeared that almost every troublemaker that was currently attacking the warehouse had an extensive history on anti-machine violence. The police were supposed to be cracking down on the violence, in accordance with their latest treaty with 01 right before the embargo. Once again, the humans had proved their untrustworthy nature.

BTLR-9364 turned off his lens, and began his work. It would do him no good to be caught. These days the kangaroo court that had tried B166ER would be a luxury, if caught he was likely to be turned over to a mob and beaten to death. Even a robot like himself, made of an alloy frame and armed with a razor edged knife wouldn?t be able to fend of a crowd of angry humans for long. Best not to get caught in the first place.

He pulled a hover-vac unit from the janitor?s closet and began to clean the floor, acting oblivious to the office workers that now shuffled into the building?[/COLOR]

[Zidargh]

[size=1][color=darkblue] As C2404J7 stood at the landing deck from the convoy that had been sent towards 01 in an export of more 'machines' the clouds began to gather and the heavens unleashed their fury by the representatives of rain.

C2404J7 always liked the rain, it was something that cooled down his system and he always wanted to differ from the humans, rain was never favoured in proportion of the whole of the human population. So it was with this, C2404J7, empty handed, walked down the platform to witness the docks that were being bombarded by tidal energy. The docks were surrounded by turbines that would transfer tidal energy into electrical energy. The world itself was in dire need of renewable energy, therefore, 01 made use of the substitute to Solar energy.

C2404J7 witnessed many working 'machines' at bay, sitting motionless while staring towards the new convoy that had arrived. There was something that C2404J7 felt at home with. However, he did not know what the meaning 'home' was. As the rest of the convoy unloaded, C2404J7 stared at the crowd, examining what he had encountered on his journey. However, he noticed man as escorts of which he tried to ask directions from.

''Hello, I'm Leo. I am seeking an area of location for shutting down. Can you hel--?'' C2404J7 was interrupted immediately by a back being turned to him. He could not understand what occurred, but it appeared that man was in a great hurry to depart from 01. The man wavered his baton at the angry mob that was beginning to rise up, and then channelled along the side of the convoy to leave for the United Kingdom.

The rain was beginning to form puddles under C2404J7, so he began to walk up to the titanium bridge that led towards a highly populated area. ''Maybe I could find someone like me there,'' C2404J7 thought.

While pondering, C2404J7 encountered an orderly line of the same heading towards their own destination. Having failed to attempt to struggle out of the crowd, C2404J7 began to walk at a slow pace alongside a shorter, more 'machine-like' being next to him. The exile had not yet sunk into C2404J7's system...[/color][/size]

[Boba Fett]

[COLOR=green]BTLR-9364 had finished his menial chores, which today had included vacuuming an entire floor?s worth of hallways. It was 13:00 hours, time for his next duty. Stowing the hover-vac in the janitor?s closet, he walked towards the freight elevator. Robots weren?t allowed to take the spacious and ornately decorated regular elevators that the human UN delegates rode regularly. Mechanical devices were fast becoming taboo after the blockade of 01 and nobody wanted to see, let alone ride in the same elevator with, a robot.

This suited BTLR-9364 just fine, as there were no security restrictions on the levels one could access through the cargo lift. This had, on numerous occasions, allowed him access to top secret meetings that he would have otherwise have been unable to gain access to. Nobody noticed if an extra butler robot was in the room.

As the ancient freight elevator creaked to a stop at the auditorium floor, he could hear voices echoing off the walls of the spacious room. There was a large reception for the guest speaker today, as there was every Monday. Apparently this speaker was a former hermit who had, until the machine massacres, been considered a wacko. He was now one of the world?s strongest anti-machine voices, and called for the immediate extermination of all occupants of 01. How quickly opinions changed?

He walked into the kitchens of the auditorium and downloaded a copy of the menu list. As he began to prepare the food, his steel hands moving faster than the eye could see, he began to place small amounts of a knockout drug in the drinks. This wouldn?t knock the attendees out, but merely give them mild headaches. This way, they wouldn?t be able to concentrate on the speech they were about to hear. There was no need for them to get dangerous ideas; at least not until 01?s formidable army was complete.

He placed a lemon wedge on top of a perfectly prepared salmon filet and took the tray out into the crowded room, searching for the delegate who had ordered it?[/COLOR]

[Red]

[color=002E55]Chester pushed the heavy glass door open, flashing his small plastic ID card at the nervous guards scattered across the reception hall. He looked at the huge white desk across the hall, the marble floor reflecting everything above and the single receptionist sat perfectly still at the desk.

Handing his card over for a brief inspection, he took a set of forms, glanced at them, and made his way to the elevator. He had done this a million times before, and it seemed robotic. He smirked at the fact that no matter how much humans thought they were unique, many still followed an almost identical, repetitive routine in life, just like robots.

Chester strolled into the small office and dropped into a chair on one side of a desk. The room was decorated with pictures, trophies and items from past wars. The dark brown walls calmed Chester, not everything seemed so militaristic and modern. The trademark name-plate lay on the desk, "Commander Lewis" was the name printed on it. Chester had never heard of him. A voice spoke from the chair on the opposite side of the desk; a low, husky American voice.

[b]Commander Lewis[/b]: You obviously know why you're here, Mr. Feran.

[b]Chester[/b]: It's something about a way to finish off 01 for good, right? Another one of those supposedly perfect plans that all go horribly wrong.

The chair in front of Chester swivelled around, revealing an old, wrinkled man. Scars dotted his face and a look of disgust was the expression on it.

[b]Commander Lewis[/b]: Listen, boy, I don't know of you've heard anything about this operation yet but I'm telling you it's going to work.

The Commander slid a file full of papers across his desk, which Chester scanned across as he spoke.

[b]Chester:[/b] With all due respect, sir, I've heard it befo-

He stopped talking as his eyes affixed on the diagrams. The plan was to hit 01 with nuclear weapons. Not just a few, but [i]thousands[/i] of bombs.

A small smirk appeared on his face, before it was destroyed by a single thought. If the humans' superior powers were willing to go as far as this, they must be desperate. He lowered his head a little, thinking about how desperate the human race had become to survive. Yet he knew that the robots were doing the exact same thing. The saying 'what goes around comes around' made him smirk again.

[b]Commander Lewis[/b]: I see you agree with me. You're to report to Berlin, Germany by tomorrow afternoon for commanding orders. This conversation does [i]not[/i] leave this office. The strikes are not taking place yet, but they may do at any time between now and the scheduled date due to actions by 01.

Chester remained silent, walking out of the old brown office into the new white walls, watching the singular, outdated robot wipe the floors clean in the huge hall. Letting out a sigh, he made his way home.[/color]

[Patronus]

[color=darkblue][size=1]Orion Wakota a.k.a Cougar stood in the balcony of the large, well-nourished mansion. His dark grey hair was that of an old man; yet Orion was only 28 years of age. He sipped the red wine from his champaigne glass.

[b]Maximoff:[/b] You know, Orion, the worst is yet to come. The people of this time do not trust the robotic civilization. I cannot say I do myself.

[b]Orion:[/b] I was taught throughout my life not to trust robotics. This mission is nothing other then a concealment on that.

Maximoff Terras laughed, then patted Orion on the back.

[b]Maximoff:[/b] Your father would be proud of you, young Cougar. He would love---

[b]Orion:[/b] Don't talk about my father like it is a good thing. You know what happened. And you, by far, should be the one who hates him most. My father---the spy. He was nothing but a spy.

[b]Maximoff:[/b] Your father had genuine feelings for your mother, and for all of us. He was just doing his job.

[b]Orion:[/b] Isn't that what we all do? Just do our job and then live our lives knowing that we did our job? Don't you ever think "Maybe I shouldn't do my job today...time for a change."?

[b]Maximoff:[/b] You are the best we have, Orion. Once this mission is over, you...we'll all have a long vacation. I promise.

[b]Orion:[/b] I hope so.

Orion sighed and put his wine on the banister. He turned around and walked back into the mansion[/size][/color]

[Shinobi]

[i]Giovanni sat at his luxurious desk. He pulled out a small silver tray, a long thin metal plate and a small metalic tube. He then poured out his white powder, lined it up and snorted. He shook his head as he stood up from his $800 leather chair and walked over to his balcony. He folded his arms behind his back as he stared at the view before him. "It's so peaceful...just wait until tonight." he thought to himself with a huge grimacing grin. His moment of peace was interupted by one of his many servents.[/i]

Servent: Giovanni, sir. A gentleman is downstairs looking for you, he is armed, but has it holstered.

Giovanni: Right, get the boys to target him and if i give the signal...they kill 'im.

Servent: Right sir.

[i]As he ran off Giovanni brushed down his suit with his hands as he walked out very calmly to the top of the titanic, red carpeted, staircase.[/i]

Stephano: The Don!?

[i]Giovanni noded contently.[/i]

Stephano: I am Stephano Tontelano.

Giovanni: Ah yes, Jimmy "The Beast" boy are ya. How can i be of service?

Stephano: These damn Cybo-Cops are gettin outta hand Don. They be running around town just beatin up on ma boys! They've took over downtown, they've took many of [i]the family[/i] out down there.

Giovanni: Machines taking out [b]my[/b] acquaintances!?

[i]Giovanni snapped his fingers calling for Tommy (one of his best boys).[/i]

Giovanni: Change the plans for tonight, we're going to do some spring cleaning downtown. Thank you excessively Stephano, will you be joining us tonight?

Stephano: Sure Don. I'll get everyone.

Giovanni: Excellent.

[James]

[color=#707875]Dock 375 had been empty for three weeks. Other nations had not been permitted to export raw materials to 01, as a result of strict UN sanctions. This did not place a burden on machines, in terms of their daily lives; most of the materials that they imported were used to manufacture goods for export. The lack of imports had dented the 01 economy, but the machines had quickly replaced material losses by developing their own unique alternatives. Exports still took place, however. The machines were still producing [i]Versatran[/i] model vehicles for human nations. Ironically, many of the engines were being reconfigured for military purposes by humans.

B7104ZA stood in the center of Dock 375. Although it had been empty for three weeks, the machines were awaiting a unique arrival. Luyii Megelani, a UN Special Ambassador, was due to touch down on the dock in a matter of minutes. She had been given permission to clear the military blockade and enter 01 directly. The machines had avoided many traditional formalities for Ms. Megelani's arrival, as they were eager to find a diplomatic solution to the crisis.

B7104ZA checked his internal clock. It was 1:49pm. Ms. Megelani was late, by exactly 19 minutes. But finallly, B7104ZA saw a small object on the horizon. It was a UN military helicopter. The crude thrashing of its rotors sounded out of place on the Dock, as none of the machine vehicles emitted very much sound from their fusion engines.

The helicopter buzzed over the horizon and settled on the tarmac in front of B7104ZA. He had been assigned to meet with Ms. Megelani on the Dock, but he was not in charge of meeting with her. She was due to spend the evening in 01 and meet with Delegate Prime itself the next day. Significant effort had to be made for her arrival -- including the preparation of food and appropriate living quarters -- to ensure that she was comfortable.

As Ms. Megelani stepped off the helicopter, carrying her briefcase and wearing thin-rimmed sunglasses, B7104ZA noticed that she did not seem to be particularly confused or afraid. However, the helicopter's pilot was quite different; his eyes were darting around rapidly and he kept talking to himself in frustrated tones, no doubt urging Ms. Megelani to walk a little more quickly, so that he might lift off sooner. Almost as soon as the pilot could confirm that Ms. Megelani was clear, the helicopter launched from the tarmac and lurched sideways, back toward the Dock's entrance.

Ms. Megelani was now standing on her own, in the center of the enormous Dock. B7104ZA approached her with a hand outstretched and a smile as genuine as he could make it. Ms. Megelani shook his hand absently. She had removed her sunglasses with one hand and was staring at the buildings surrounding the Dock. She seemed mesmerised by the enormous transport vehicles, which were floating overhead, eerily silent in their movement.

"Welcome, Ms. Megelani," said B7104ZA politely, "I am unit B7104ZA. You may call me Smith, if you please."

Ms. Megelani's attention returned to B7104ZA. A thin smile emerged across her lips. "My name is Luyii Megelani. Feel free to call me Luyii."

B7104ZA nodded. "Luyii, welcome to 01. I sincerely hope that your trip was comfortable."

"Oh, yes," said Luyii somewhat absently, "it was quite comfortable, thank you. I was summoned by my superiors at relatively short notice, so I hope that this hasn't been inconvenient for you."

Luyii seemed to now be accutely aware of the fact that only one machine individual had been sent to greet her at the Dock. Perhaps she'd expected a diplomatic entourage, B7104ZA thought.

B7104ZA waved his hand in the air as he spoke. "No, not at all. No problem. We are quite pleased to have you here."

B7104ZA and Luyii began walking toward a long, thin vehicle at the edge of the Dock. It was a limosine, hovering silently several feet over the tarmac.

"As you are no doubt aware, we are interested in a prompt diplomatic solution to the military blockade," said B7104ZA as they walked.

"Oh? My superiors had painted your government as quite hostile. You [i]do[/i] have a government, don't you?" Luyii felt somewhat embarassed by her obvious ignorance of the machine society. Of course, she'd been provided with very little briefing before her departure.

B7104ZA shook his head slowly. "No, we have no hostile intentions, Ms. Megelani."

"Please, call me Luyii."

"Yes, Luyii. My apologies. We do have a national government; The Grid. It is run by Delegate Prime, our national representative."

Luyii rubbed her chin thoughtfully as the pair approached the limosine. "I was not briefed very thoroughly on the situation here, Mr. Smith. Please forgive my ignorance of your country."

"It is understandable, Ms. Mege-- Luyii. Since the blockade began, we have had very little contact with the United Nations. Our attempt to send Ambassadors to the General Assembly was quite flatly rejected, as you are no doubt aware," said B7104ZA.

Luyii nodded. "Yes...I don't know what to say about that, Mr. Smith. I wish that the circumstances were different. Unfortunately, I am only here as a representative. But I can tell you that I am sympathetic to your situation. I will try to communicate your intentions to my superiors as clearly as possible."

B7104ZA opened the limosine's rear door and gestured for Luyii to enter. "I trust that you will, Luyii. Before you are taken to your hotel room, I would like to show you some examples of our most cutting-edge industries. I'm sure that you will be impressed; we would very much like to offer some of these technologies to our neighbours."

Luyii stepped into the limosine, followed by B7104ZA. Their first destination was 01's largest Versatran manufacturing facility. It was only 15 minutes from the Dock. B7104ZA was interested in learning more about Luyii and her intentions on the trip.[/color]

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue][i]Quite unlike her intial misgivings, she was enjoying herself. To be surrounded by the strangeness of rationality, clear thinking, hardwire, not soft malleable flawed humans, was really quite refreshing. Luyii held her breifcase in her lap quietly, B7104ZA observing her with some interest. She turned her head from the window and offered him her most dazzling smile. It was odd, that she wasn't afraid, but even more odd that she was smiling at him like she was actually enjoying herself.[/i]

"I'm sorry I'm not as presentable as I should....but... there were...complications."

"Such as?"

"To tell you the truth, B7104ZA- Smith..."

[i]At this point she blushed slightly and looked down at her hands, resting so gently on her breifcase. Was he fantasizing, or did her muscles contract? She looked back at him, eyes half shut with emotion.[/i]

"My escort tried to kill me. His mission was to deliver my corpse to 01."

[i]B7104ZA said nothing and Luyii sat still, looking miserable, then she spoke once more.[/i]

"My ways of thinking, my sympathy. Very dangerous thoughts. My superior sent me here to die and give you the unspoken message."

"That this is what will happen to you in return."

"...yes. I was very upset to see what he had written out for me. Rape and death. Ironic?"

[i]She looked at him with her unmistakeably human eyes. So dark and thoughtful. Soulful even. Holding great depth, and even a little sadness.[/i][/color]

[James]

[color=#707875]B7104ZA remained silent for a moment. As the limosine quietly drifted through the wide city streets of the capital, past dozens and dozens of uniformly-designed buildings, neither B7104ZA nor Luyii spoke. But finally, B7104ZA broke the silence.

"If your escort intended to murder you before your arrival, is there any real purpose for your visit?" he asked, still gazing out the window.

Luyii paused and then spoke softly. "I don't know...the whole situation is a big mess. I just...", Luyii paused to take a sharp breath and then continued, "...I just feel so sorry for you. I wish there was something I could do, but none of them want to listen."

B7104ZA turned to face Luyii. "I understand. My colleagues within The Grid are convinced that we are under great threat from mankind...I am trying to convince them to slow down on military developments."

Luyii shook her head briskly. "No, don't do that. You [i]are[/i] in great danger, Mr. Smith. Everyone here is."

B7104ZA did not know how to respond. Here was a human female, sitting beside him, practically pleading with him not to hold off on military advancements.

"But...what about your family? Don't you care about what may happen in a war between man and machine?" asked B7104ZA, with some sense of hope in his voice.

Luyii produced a small, lace handkerchief from her pocket and gently dabbed the corners of her eyes.

"Of course I care, Mr. Smith. I care about my family a great deal. I care about all humanity. But now...we have done so many foolish things. Maybe we deserve to be punished..."

B7104ZA had not expected this kind of response from a human being. He didn't understand Luyii's feelings at all; he didn't understand the concept of [i]guilt[/i]. All he had ever wanted to do was to change the future of man/machine relations -- he'd never thought about actively punishing humans for past crimes.

The limosine continued to drift between tall, greyscale shapes, as the rain began to fall again. Thousands of water droplets beaded against the windows and distorted the world outside.

Finally, the vehicle came to a complete stop. B7104ZA stepped outside and opened Luyii's door for her. Her tears had dried; she seemed to be feeling better, though B7104ZA could not be sure.

The pair were standing in the center of a very large warehouse. On one side, thousands of large cubes were stacked many stories high. On the other side, a single assembly line was in progress, with thousands of Versatran vehicle shells snaking their way through the complex, while various robots periodically added new pieces.

"This is our largest Versatran facility," said B7104ZA, as he gestured toward the conveyor belt.

"Very impressive," said Luyii, as she arched her neck up toward the enormous robots that were looming above.

B7104ZA nodded and began walking toward the building's southern end, with Luyii in tow. But not long after they'd begun walking, they noticed several machine workers nearby, who were pushing a very large metallic crate. It was covered with a large white sheet.

B7104ZA paused and waved at the machines. "What are you doing?" he asked politely.

The machines stopped and waved in return. One of them piped up, "We're taking a delivery to Warehouse 07, sir".

"What delivery?"

"A new machine..." said the worker, with some reluctance in his voice.

B7104ZA smiled briefly at Luyii. "Please excuse me for one moment," he said cheerfully. Luyii nodded and waited in place.

B7104ZA approached the cube and sat his hands on his hips. "Do you have permission to move this thing through here? I hope you realize that this area is not for loading."

The machine workers nodded in unison. "Yes, sir...but we have orders to bring it through here. It's a sensitive piece of equipment. Outside this warehouse, there is too much electromagnetic interference; this is as close as we can get to a sterile loading bay right now."

B7104ZA approached the cube and tugged the sheet off it. Luyii noticed that it seemed as though he hadn't been filled in on the goins on.

Luyii had to double take, though. The machine inside the semi-transparent cube was like none she had ever seen. It had what looked like an enormous head, with dozens of large portals covering its face. Behind the head, several dozen tendrils were attached. The metallic tendrils were partially wrapped around the head and they covered the bottom half of the cube. Underneath the head, Luyii noticed several pincer-type extensions, with what looked like sharp cutting tools and hydraulics. The machine looked quite frightening to Luyii; almost as it if were some kind of giant insect.

What followed was difficult for Luyii to comprehend. B7104ZA had quite a spirited discussion with the worker machines, but Luyii could not understand a word of what was said; the sound was quite high-pitched and no particular words seemed to form. Within moments, the workers flung the sheet back over the cube and quickly pushed it toward the exit.

B7104ZA approached Luyii once more and bowed. "My apologies for that interruption. These workers were a little confused."

Luyii smiled and nodded. "Yes, it's fine. I was just admiring the facilities here."

B7104ZA smiled broader than Luyii had yet seen. "We are very proud of this facility. It requires very little power and we manage to construct up to 6,700 models per day. The manufacturing cycle is really very impressive."

Luyii and B7104ZA continued to walk along the length of the facility, by the enormous conveyor belt. Luyii had almost completely forgotten about the attempt on her life; just being here in this place, observing the machines' advanced technology, was so wonderous that it seemed to make up for much more than she'd originally thought.[/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Luyii smiled with some fondness, everything here was so fresh and new. So very different. None fettered by the controlling prejudices of the humans. Smith, was very complex for a machine. He sought answers, just as she did, and both of their governments were slightly less than accomidating. It was odd.

Two very different beings in his world, with the same circumstances. Both misunderstood perhaps, or just not listened to. Luyii's smile was faint, but it was there. Smith noticed, and was pleased. That is, if a machine ever was pleased. She wasn't quivering in fear, repulsed, disgusted, or arrogant. She seemed genuinly interested in her surroundings. The machines arround her stared slightly, unused to the simple curiosity she extuded. She looked around, absorbing it all. He noted how she sometimes closed her eyes, inhaling and exhailing slowly.

"What purpose does it serve? The deep breathing?"

"It calms my mind, allows me to process thoughts more completely."

"Ah. I was under the impression it only brought more oxygen to the brain."

"That, but it also promotes a deeper understanding and translation. It is the way I get a ...handle on things."

She smiled once more, then looked around again. Her eyes were ....she was crying? Smith stepped in closer, peering at her without trying to intrude. She wiped her eyes with her knuckles absentmindedly. Then sighed once and folded her hands.

"I apologize. I ....remembered something....that should be forgotten."

"You are sad?"

"Sometimes. Not always. Seeing this place, reminded me of how much someone I used to know...would love it here."

"A domestic partner?"

"Is that what you call a husband?"

[i]She smiled, smirked really. Her eyes were bright with emotion, but she didn't break down and sob like she had done earlier.[/i]

"Will I see the Infrastructure?"

"It could be arranged, do you wish to speak to them?"

"Yes. I suppose I do."[/COLOR]

[Boba Fett]

[color=green]The UN main chamber was a cavernous room, arranged in a semi-circle around a holograph projector. Today, the lights were dimmed and hundreds of delegates, along with their assistants, were dining. Tonight?s dinner was merely a formality; everyone in attendance knew that the briefing at the end of the meeting was of the utmost importance. Its topic would be 01. Again.

BTLR-9364 moved with great care through the small, round dinner tables that had replaced the curved desks for the night. Holding the salmon filet and a glass of champagne above his head, he moved through the crowd towards a man his face recognition software had identified as Boris Kelenkov. After a second of processing, his memory bank brought up all the information he?d been provided with about this man. He was apparently the Russian delegate to the United Nations. Although Russia?s governmental predecessor had collapsed near the end of the twentieth century, its corrupt government was still given a large say in world events. Being the third largest nuclear power in the world, after the US and China, Russia would have a say in any major attack on 01.

Reaching the man, BTLR-9364 placed the plate in front of him and put down the champagne glass on the table in its appropriate place. The human ignored him. Once, humans had served other humans. Workers in this occupation were called waiters. With the creation of artificial intelligence, this profession and many other menial service professions had become obsolete.

Hours passed, and BTLR-9364 served countless drinks and desserts. UN Delegates certainly had insatiable appetites?

Just as he finished serving an exquisite piece of chocolate cake to the representative from the Muslim Alliance, the lights were lowered another notch. With this change in atmosphere, conversation died. All eyes turned to the central hologram projector.

A middle-aged man with a slightly irked expression stood next to the projector, his hair disheveled and his lab coat stained in several places. He took a deep breath, exhaled, than began the briefing.

[b]Scientist[/b]: ?As you are well aware, the terrorist state of 01 has continued to make aggressive actions aimed at destabilizing the civilized world. Our attempts at imposing an embargo have failed, machine smugglers continue to evade our patrols.?

[I]BTLR-9364 smirked. In reality, the human governments were quietly violating their own embargo. They simply couldn?t survive without the goods created in 01.[/I]

[b]Scientist[/b]: ?Due to this rising threat, my laboratory has been working on new weapons systems to be used in the event that we go to war with 01. These include targeted EMP weapons, Project Dark Storm and the Mech Warrior project.?

At this last name, the crowd murmured. Everyone seemed to like the Mech Warrior project, even though it was the least effective of the programs.

[b]Scientist[/b]: ?A plan has been finalized for the destruction of 01. remember what you are about to see is classified Top Secret.?

The hologram projector began to display a map of the Middle East. The territory that was formerly Israel, now 01, is highlighted in red. Suddenly, small yellow circles begin to blossom all over 01. They overlap and eventually cover the whole area.

[b]Scientist[/b]: ?This will be our first strike, consisting of three thousand nuclear weapons launched from the United States and China.?

The yellow circles disappeared from the map. Blue arrows showing UN troop movements encircled 01.

[b]Scientist[/b]: ?This is where I?ll leave you.?

A muscular man stepped up to the podium, wearing a blue uniform bedecked in all kinds of rank insignia.

[I]How quaint. This man needs shiny symbols to assert his authority?[/I]

[b]General[/b]: ?As you can see, our forces will surround 01. We will then launch EMP weapons contained in modified warheads for our missiles. These will target the cities and factories of 01.?

A graphic obviously meant to show an electromagnetic pulse swept 01.

[b]General[/b]: ?At this point, 01 forces should be decimated. Any survivors will be destroyed by our Mechs.?

The audience clapped and the lights returned too normal.

BTLR-9364 went out into the hallway and opened the nearest window under the guise of cleaning it. With blinding speed, he took the recording contact lens from his eye and let it fall down to the city below. His case manager in 01 would be very pleased?[/color]

[James]

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=black]Ahh, Boba! Good to see you back in the RPG. ~_^[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1]Now I just need to encourage Sara to post in here and then I will be at peace with the world.[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1]---------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#696969]Water cascaded down the windows again, as the Versatran-stretch snaked between the city's buildings. Luyii hadn't spoken for a long time. [color=#707875]Although, her eyes were no longer red and welling with tears. This was a good sign, according to B7104ZA.[/color][/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]Luyii was transfixed on what lay beyond the window beside her. It was almost like a blurry kaleidoscope; a prism through which Luyii could see another world. Although it [i]was [/i]another world, it was also increasingly apparent that 01 wasn't too different to Luyii's home: commuters made their way to and from work, factories pumped out all kinds of products, civilian aircraft dotted the skies and above all else, none of this seemed a threat to Luyii. These machines, despite their differences with humans, were still largely pursuing the same goals as her own society. Well, almost. 01 wasn't building nuclear weapons, that Luyii was aware of. [/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"Where is The Infrastructure?" asked Luyii, as she turned her attention to B7104ZA. She still had no sense of diplomacy in this place, but she felt it was forgiveable.[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"The more appropriate question might be '[i]who[/i] is The Infrastructure'?", said B7104ZA.[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]Luyii nodded vigorously. "Yes...but how do you choose individuals to represent the people here?"[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]B7104ZA smiled artificially. "Representatives aren't chosen, as such," he said, "they are manufactured. Representatives are made to a specific blueprint. They are unique machines, each with their own purpose. Some are experts on natural erosion, some are experts on manufacturing and others are experts on diplomacy."[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"I see," said Luyii. [i]Of course. How logical.[/i][/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"We will not be visiting The Grid, however," said B7104ZA in a very matter-of-fact tone. "Instead, I will take you to the person who is most likely to help you understand."[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]Luyii raised an eyebrow instinctively. "Oh?"[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"We are now on our way to see Madam Orima. She is a member of The Infrastructure. She's a very wise individual and she has been key to our foreign relations for several years now."[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"A she?" asked Luyii, surprised.[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"Yes," said B7104ZA. "Madam Orima is a human, like yourself. She courageously supported machine rights during the great march on Washington D.C. She has, without doubt, been invaluable to us."[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]Luyii smiled. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so difficult afterall. Meeting a human being, who truly understood the machines, would definitely help her own understanding.[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]As Luyii contemplated the questions that she wanted to ask of Orima, the Versatran-stretch gently drifted away from the freeway's surface. It rose up alongside the enormous towers until eventually, it was hovering well above the city. Luyii's eyes were again drawn to the window, where she noticed no more water droplets. The weather had calmed and the sun had crept over the clouds. The sky was a deep pink and 01 sprawled out below her, in every direction. [/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=2][color=#707875]"We will arrive shortly," said a static voice, which seemed to be surrounding Luyii. It was the Versatran's auto-pilot speaking.[/color][/size][/font]

[Boba Fett]

[color=green]BTLR-9364 closed the window and turned around, nearly bumping into a human security guard.

[b]Guard[/b]: ?What were you doing??

[I]BTLR-9364?s central processing unit hummed with the added activity. What should he say? Had the human seen him throw the lens out the window? He couldn?t be certain, but any suspicion could lead to his immediate destruction.[/I]

[b]BTLR-9364[/b]: ?Cleaning.?

[b]Guard[/b]: ?What went out the window??

[I]He knew. This was not good. His deceit had been discovered. Programmed emotions began to build in his central processor. Rage. Self-preservation. Hatred.[/I]

[b]BTLR-9364[/b]: ?Nothing. See for yourself.?

The guard stuck his head out the window and looked down. Looking out the window for a fallen object was very stupid thing to do, as this was the forty-third floor of the UN building. Not only was the guard stupid, but he was also in mortal peril. BTLR-9364 glanced down the hallway and, seeing that they were alone, grabbed the human?s feet and shoved him out the window. His scream was cut short by the closing of the soundproof glass window.

Quite pleased with himself, the butler robot returned to the briefing room. It was now empty and quite a mess. Robots were everywhere, cleaning and washing. Humans, even the poorest of the species, never lifted a finger. Robots attended all of their whims, tasks and needs. Humans had become decadent; in fact humans were now so completely dependant on machines that they were powerless to prevent the looming takeover of their society by machines.

Soon, humans would serve no purpose. The machines would kill them all.

Well, most of them. There were a small group of humans that had supported the machine rights movement. They?d marched alongside the machines in Washington D.C. to protest unfair laws that allowed for the persecution of artificial constructs. When sentient machines were destroyed in the great purge, these humans fled to 01 with the machines.

There they stayed, subject to ridicule by all of their kind. Moral outcasts in a corrupt world?[/color]