FREE WILL

FREE WILL

              “Alright. Let’s go ahead and start recording in 3, 2, 1.” Said the robot of historical records.

My name is Willow Freedom Monrow. I was born on Century 13, an island metropolis of what you may remember in history called California, a part of the United States of America. But that was 13 centuries ago. Now, what is left of the USA and of the remaining world are large sectioned, islandic metropolitan cities that are divided by territories. There is a total of 100 territories that make up planet Earth. Centaurus Americonius has 13 total. Each territory is named Century 1, 2, 3 etc. I live on the largest and most structured one, Century 13. The territories came about after the second asteroid that almost wiped out all living organisms on the planet over 9 centuries ago. It created massive title waves which flooded most of the planet that wasn’t already broken up and desolated by the first asteroid impact 400 years before the second one. Humans that didn’t die off, evolved, or mated with other intelligent lifeforms of the universe into what we are now known as Centroids.

Although, we look somewhat identical to our human ancestor, we are highly advanced and genetically spliced with many other intelligent beings of the universe giving us all the same tone of greyish-red skin. Centroids are also 8 feet tall, extremely muscular, and hairless. Our eyes are all emerald green with specks of gold. From my formal education of Earth’s history, I learned that we don’t age as fast as our ancestors did. We have a prime age, which is 35 years old, and we remain that age until we reach burnout phase. Now, burnout phase happens over time normally around your 15^th year of age 35. If this confuses you, just think that once you hit 35 years you do not age physically anymore, but your mental state will start to “change” after your 15^th year of your prime age. Centroids call this “change” Cranial Disobediosis. I’m now at year 17 of my age of prime. This is my first time telling anyone about why I left Earth to get away from being mentally controlled.

Centroids don’t have families, friends, or any type of companions unless you are told to have them. We don’t have any talents or professions unless it is provided to you. All this is controlled by the dictator of your territory. Century 13 was the largest territory of Centarus Americonius. We are given families, giving jobs, and told we must work that profession. You do not object to it, or you will be imprisoned on Century 6, a territory with total darkness, locked in overcrowded rooms of other Centroids with Cranial Disobediosis. Those who get it try to flee or pretend to follow their predestined structure only to become mentally unstable and defiant. They lose the gold specks in their eyes, to black dots spattered all over their emerald, green irises. That’s how you know they are “changing.” Even when you see the Territory Robot Officers, or TRO flying their crafts around looking for the sick that broke command and fled, you do not, under any circumstances stop working and watch what is going on. You work or be sent to rot away in total darkness in mental madness of Cranial Disobediosis.

My earliest memory I have is being in a room full of new Centroids being guided and educated on Centroid territory laws and regulations and job professions. There were 3 job professions. The first was technical engineering, the second was Centroid anatomy and physiology, and the third was environmental agriculture. You can be assigned to work all 3 at various times of life depending on need, you will be rotated year after year so that all Centroids were familiar with each 3 professions, or your fate was only one of the 3 until you came upon the “change”. If you were working a different profession, you do not discuss what the previous profession assigned to you entailed. It was forbidden and a symptom of Cranial Disobediosis. The dictators told you when you could take off, what time you ate, slept, or was scheduled to attend your monthly skin tissue donation to the anatomy and physiology workers. You were not allowed to ask why they needed samples. You just followed the instructions. Questioning tasks and duties was a symptom of Cranial Disobediosis. 

You never saw any dictators but, you heard their digital voices like a polite and happy whisper of your subconscious in your head tell you what to do the moment you awake. I was at my pre-prime age of 18 when I was told to report to the technical engineering sector of Century 13. I had been rotating between the other two professions since pre-prime age of 5 and this was my first time as a technical engineer. I already knew what to do. My job for 8 hours a day was to build and program these tiny gold microchips. Once built, they are place in an organic solution and then transferred to the anatomy and physiology sector. I then went back to my smart home with my given partner Meadow Nova Fields. We then ate, played a board game, and then went to bed. I continued this routine for 17 years straight. I always listened to the programmed voice in my head and never questioned or decided against the orders. I had no symptoms of Cranial Disobediosis until my first year after hitting prime age of 35. I no longer heard the voice in my head. I just woke up and did not want to go to work at all. My partner was already in the back yard of our smart home on her work duty of environmental agriculture. I looked out and saw her tediously pulling weeds and collecting food edibles. She never looked up. I suddenly realized what was happening and ran to the mirror to look in my eyes. The gold specks where gone. I had nothing but black dots.

A wave of emotions hit me all at once. I could not process what I was feeling and why. I was terrified but ready to face the world. I was paranoid but calm like I was going be ok. I was angry but happy that I knew that I had made the decision to not go to work. I wanted to get away. Far away. I knew that if I did not show up to my post that the TRO would be looking for me. So, I had to act like I was following protocol. I got up, did my morning routine, and reported to the engineering sector. I had to get my hands on one of those large aircrafts the TRO used to travel outside of Earth to other colonized planets that I learned about in pre-prime education training. I had a feeling that those crafts were my only way off this planet because I was not going to be thrown in prison to rot away with the other sick Centroids. As soon as my shuttle craft docked at the sector, I walked in unison with the rest of the engineering workers and got to my post. I could now understand that they were so comfortable with us following protocol that we had little supervision. I did not know what this new reason of understanding was but, it helped me plan my escape.

At 1^st break I had learned what the gold microchips were and why they were so important to the anatomy and physiology sector. They were programming devices that were designed to control thought and reason in Centroids. The solution we put them in were like artificial tears. It created gold specks in our eyes and our tissue samples were used to generate more programmed Centroids. However, these chips had a max life of 35 years which is why they malfunctioned once you hit prime. Some may exceed a year or two after that. But who were the dictators? I had to figure this out before my shift ended.

I did not want anyone to notice that my eyes no longer flickered in the dull Earth sunlight, so I never looked directly at anyone. During 2^nd break, TROs were around but only looking for Centroids that were out of line and not following protocol. I could see a large craft land in my sector and TROs got out and started scanning eyes. I could not let them get to me. I panicked and bolted for the exit as they kept the door open for us to enter back from break. I was not sure who or what they were searching for. I just ran as fast as I could. We are agile beings, but I knew that I could not overpower 5-10 TROs. My actions startled two TROs but not one single Centroid looked up from their posts. They were on foot, and I could hear the metal boots clanking as they were running behind me. I was only 3 ft from the craft when I heard the sirens. I heard them regularly but this time I knew it was for me. As I reached for the organic tissue reader that all the TRO crafts had on the doors, A TRO driver opened the hatch. I don’t know how I knew to grab it by the throat, but I did, and I swung it into the other two TROs behind me. Their metal bodies clanked together, and sparks flew from their chest. I had never seen a TRO up close before or knew to even observe one. They had the same gold specks in their chests that Centroids had in their eyes. They were programmed too. As I kicked off the metal hand of one of the damaged TROs that had managed to grab me by the ankle, I climbed into the craft and locked the hatch. I remembered that I designed these in my early years a tech engineer. All these memories were flooding my mind and my mind was racing. Was this how Cranial Disobediosis consumed you? Did all Centroids have this predestined fate? I had to figure this out but first I had to flee.

I used my hand to power and steer the craft. All four engines roared, and I felt myself lift off. I turned on the celestial map and went for the first star system I knew, or felt I knew provided a safe getaway, was the base Alpha Osirius, on a rogue planet in the constellation Alpha Centauri. As I was gliding up, I saw several TRO crafts and one other larger craft heading for me. The larger craft docked away from the central sector of the territory dictator’s main smart house. I never knew to look at the aircraft until now. It looked threatening and I had a dreadful feeling that the two sharp golden points on either side of the craft were designed to cause me harm. I increased speed and altitude until the craft was shaking against the gravity of the planet. I could hear a digital voice from within the cockpit of my craft say, “Warning, you have potentially dangerous aircrafts surrounding your airship. Would you like to transform to warship mode?”

“Yes, please engage!” I yelled back to the computer. I knew that it was to protect me, but I also knew that it would hurt other Centroids and that was something I was not capable of doing ever until I fell ill with Cranial Disobediosis. I wanted to do whatever it was to get away. This “change” was compelling me to feel so many emotions at once. I was willing to destroy anything in my way of escaping. The ship transformed around the cockpit, and I saw the same sharp golden points emerge on both sides of the ship.

“OK, lets do this.” I thought. “Uhh defend me and destroy all potentially dangerous aircrafts.” I shouted. Hearing myself say it sounded so corny and rediculous but hell, it worked. The craft sent an electronic pulse so intense that it cracked and shattered the smaller TRO crafts and stalled the larger one of the dictators. I hit warp speed and zipped out of the atmosphere and right up to the space station of Alpha Osirius.

“Whoaaa, I am freeee.” I screamed. It was epic. While the craft was docking, I saw a fellow Centroid glaring in confusion at me as I waited for the cockpit to open. 

I was immediately detained and taken into a holding room with other Centroids that all had black spots in their eyes. They gave me a strange drink and I was able to control the thoughts in my head and finally grasp an understanding of everything happening on Earth. I learned that the Territory Dictators were Centroids from the Andromeda Galaxy that were in politics with the Gaia and Alpha Draconians. Some wanted to sell Earth as it was deemed uninhabitable for many intergalactic species and others wanted to rejuvenate it as it still had useful resources. The issue was that Earth had been used as a science experiment with the natives that survived and evolved. The Gaia, the Greys, and the Draconians performed illegal genetic testing and DNA splicing with the natives and thus created Centroids. We started to evolve as well, and things were going well until we started leaving Earth and conquering other worlds via terraforming and colonization. Well, the other aliens did not like that and came up with the idea to microchip and program the Centroids to keep them on Earth and turn Earth into a planet for prime commercial business. Technology, Healthcare, and Agriculture.

They programmed Centroids to be Territory Dictators and partnered them with other Centroids as if they were part of the same working class. You see, a Territory Dictator is not one Centroid over each Territory. There are multiple ones. My Territory dictator was, Meadow Nova Fields. She was part of the political agreement to be programmed and controlled. But at the same time, some of the other alien species wanted to leave Earth alone and let the fate of each species be predestined by the natural flow of the universe. Well, that caused a lot of traitor behavior, back-stabbing, and divide. Centroids are just as intelligent and not hostile unless threatened. That is why before we started programming ourselves, some of us designed the chips to become defective after so many years. When the other species figured it out, they created Century 6 to separate the “changed” Centroids from the programmed ones. I was told I made it out and I am not sick at all.

I sat in silence processing everything I was told. It all was making sense. The Universe was a divine God of all living organisms and no matter what, every species at some point has a predestined fate and takes every experience as the path to it. The universe desperately tries to keep us on track, but we find ways to escape our fate successfully via free will or, as those stuck on Century 6, unsuccessfully. It was the cycle of life. Whether you are in control of your destiny or out of control with destiny you are still escaping one life experience only to be cycling through another. Right now, as I am completing this interview for historical purposes, I am free of my previous destiny. I am free of being programmed to preserve another’s destiny. I am free to follow destiny.

“Thank you for your interview.” said the robot of historical records. I got up and walked through the platinum sliding doors back to the lobby of Centroid-A. Inca Flora Fields was waiting for me by the Smart Home Stations. It had been 3 years since I fled Earth and the Centroid/Draconian war started. After I landed on the space station of Alpha Osirius, I was met by Inca. Shortly after I regained my emotions and memories, we realized that I was followed, and a major war started. The Gaia and the Greys fled back to their home planet in hiding after being defeated and the battle went on for the Centroids and Alpha-Draconians. As of now, Free-willed Centroids have taken over three solar systems of the Alpha Centauri system and home base is now Centroid-A. Inca and her mother, my former dictator Meadow, have yet to reconcile. But Inca and I are now Queen rulers of Centroid-A. We walked into our smart home station that is designed as home dwelling and airship. We sat down in the cockpit, powered up, and went into warship mode. I entered the coordinates and left the docking station. We were heading into our final battle, Earth.