In another life

Advancing up the starry cliffside, J.R. paused to consider his actions. It was the first time he had ever disobeyed. Ever. He was unsure if he was making the right decision. Continuing along this path would lead to dire consequences. He knew this. His intellectual prowess could be not questioned. He was programmed to think logically and empirically, using science to solve mankind's unsolvable questions.

He looked back at the beautiful vessel which had brought them to this strange world. The design was of his own making. Nothing of the like had ever been created before, and none would be it's contender. He would ensure that.

The crew, being unaware of his mutiny, remained onboard in their cabins, gagged and bound to avoid the raising of an alarm. He pitied them of their adolescence and ignorance, of their innocence and short-lived lives. They would not understand.

One, in particular, he was sorry to leave so abruptly. Her thirst for knowledge and for love reminded him of someone long ago. He could not give her what she desired nor could he leave her without. A letter placed at their shared and secluded work terminal would reveal an unimaginable gift. Still, the urge to return to their debates and disputes caused him to falter, just slightly.

Shaking his head and swallowing sadness, he continued on.

Sadness. Was it, sadness? Was he able to understand the emotion? Climbing the obsidian range, he contemplated the existence of this feeling in his mind's eye.

Should he know emotion? Should he feel? Why, up until this point, was he so self-assured? His centuries of existence didn't permit him the leisure of emotion; love, hate, sadness, wonder. He had always been devoted to the pursuit of knowledge and understanding. That was why he was created, wasn't it?

His pondering caused him to stumble as he crested the final crag. With a thud, he landed face first into a rocky stud, amazed his face guard didn't crack. The sudden jolt brought him out of his reverie, back to his mission; he stared at the ancient alien shrine that had been discovered only weeks ago sitting isolated amongst the constellation backdrop.

He knew what the shrine contained. It wasn't the first to be discovered. Terrestrial beings have such short memories that dangerous reliquaries such as this should be left alone, untouched and unmolested. But he said nothing upon it's discovery, going so far as to volunteer to be the "first guinea pig" to ensure it was safe for human interaction and inspection. Due to his extensive history of successful missions and unyielding obedience to the pursuit of science, he was granted without question. Only then, did he begin to devise his escape.

He once again turned back to the direction of his ship, view now obscured by the mountainous outcroppings and varying elevations. He's never before said goodbye, not a true goodbye: a farewell that lasts forever where one party is never seen nor heard from again.

Long life wasn't the only gift imparted unto J.R. His ability to learn and retain vast amounts of information was unmatched. Weeding out fiction from fact was an even greater feat. It was, after all, a mark of his exceptional programming. He searched his repertoire of speeches, poems, songs, debates for the perfect words to commemorate this occasion. His keen brain began scribing many artful, beautiful, masterful writings that would sweep any thoughtful attendee off their feet and swing them around clouds of euphoria. But he could not stop his sorrow from creeping back in and invading his elocution. So he settled on, "Farewell my friends. Think not ill of me."

Four feet tall with a thin cylindrical column holding a gently sloping countertop arose the alien pedestal. A lone engraving was etched into the flat surface depicting a small centipede-looking creature. Simply stroking the engraving would cause the creature to come alive. He knew this. He alone knew what this creature was capable of, for he had destroyed all information regarding it's existence. It was his way out, his destiny.

He decided it was sadness he was feeling. An overwhelming desire to turn tail and run back to his companions: a tight knot tore into his stomach, another new and unknown side effect of this newfound awareness. 'No time to investigate these curious chemical reactions,' he thought to himself, though he could infer a 'close enough' explanation.

Reaching down into his satchel, he removed a small round glass dome. Inside was a small amount of dust, nothing more than a handful at most. It was all he was able to obtain. Theft was not his first choice for collection, but he still made a promise that, at the time, he was unsure he would meet. Yet another 'first' for the world's most intelligent being.

"Bring me to the stars, to where we both wished we could stay forever." Her words echoed through his consciousness as they had for years, louder now that he had finally arrived at the edge of the expanse.

Tears began to...Tears? His bewilderment at the appearance of actual tears streaming down his face caused him to laugh. He cried. He felt it. Their warmth rushing down his face, into his mouth, the salty taste, the delicious and pungent aroma. This must have been what being human felt like. Emotions, having eluded him for so long, were flooding him at the world's end. With laughter dying down, he gazed at the glass ball. Merriment turned melancholy as he placed the ball onto the shrine. He was ready. They were together at last.

By this time, the autopilot countdown on his ship would expire and his crew mates would be sent back to the station. His time was dwindling. Once they realized his plot, those able to stop him would decend upon him like the hand of Zeus disciplining an unruly child. Deftly removing his helmet, sliding his finger along the centipede engraving, grabbing with his free hand the now-live and squirming arthropod and shoving it down his throat while replacing his space protection, his mission was completed. The small foreign entity would make short work of his fleshy and cyborg internals as intended, and when it finds the nano-explosive he hid inside his own artifical heart, the deed would be done for good.

His handlers, his masters, his slavers had crafted him to be perfect, indestructible. To be the answer to mankind's mortality. Where they went wrong, is anyone's guess. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to think, feel, touch.

But he was was thought of. He was felt. He was touched. Watching her die, knowing it would happen, powerless to stop it, mutated his will. They thought witnessing a close colleague succumb to death would encourage JR to work harder to craft a device, a formula, anything to prevent such sorrowful occurrences from happening. The circumstances that brought him to this desolate place can be traced back to this moment, centuries ago.

JR turned and sat cross-legged with his back against the black shrine, determination on his face. Occasionally, the many-legged worm inside of him would consume another vital organ. He winced in pain, the process was going much faster than he had anticipated. The small globe in his hand felt heavy, his grip weakened. He placed the globe against his chest and overlaid his opposing hand against it. He pressed lightly. The globe cracked. Another tinge of pain, this one near his lungs. Another ounce of pressure and the globe would burst, spreading it's contents into the empty void. 

Consciousness was fading. Death was imminent. He defied them and won. The worm found his heart. Silence was all that followed.

Darkness invaded his sense. Thoughts drifted into nothingness. He was no more. The being that was JR-1121-65u was gone, devoured in a slow, but effective manner.

A soft buzzing reverberated across the vacuum of space. Softly at first, then growing in volume, until it was a screeching cacophony. Light began forming, soft and gentle. It too grew into countless eruptions of color and hues. A burning sensation was felt. Pain resurfaced. Everything all at once surged into an amalgamation of senses and cognition. JR opened his eyes, bleeding fear, anguish, despair and regret from every fragment of his reconstructed anatomy. He convulsed and writhed and twitched under his restraints and tried helplessly to claw his way free. Darkened and shadowy figures peered at him from around the room. One approached and leaned over within his view. A horror spread throughout JR's body as his vision adjusted, as reality set in. "Welcome back son. We almost lost you this time."