The Artificial Alliance

*Warning: Profanity*

Joz did her best not to let the disdain for the bustling antique roadshow leak out of the corner of her eyes. Here, in a rough n’ tumble place such as this, weakness would only get her into trouble. The massive dome structure was a buzz with the gravitational pull of hovering tables and billowing flags. She held her head high, familiar with the thrum of caustic calls bouncing off the interior – each vendor raising their voice to beat out the seller next to them. Here she was again, stuck amongst the rusting corpses of long-forgotten robot assistants and talking vacuums that could also do your taxes. The stuff of a forgotten time always held her back.

On any other day, Joz might feel at home picking amongst the trash of what was left of this city. The broken voices of the addicted right at home here in the dirty armpit of the world, almost all there was left of the intelligent human race. A stretch of TV screen spanned the circular dome above them, the whole room of ancient appliances forced to listen to the static-filled onslaught of the Robot Resistance being reported at rundown City Hall. How would the people of Philadelphia, the only ones left to survive, take on the robot resistance? How would we defeat the A.I.? 

Joz bristled – that was the story she had wanted, the story she was meant to report. Her hand went to the silver locket around her neck, her thumb trailing over the engraving, giving her comfort. The Artificial Alliance was the only thing anyone cared about these days. Instead, Allen Corp, the lucky fuck, was there, giving the people what they’d wanted. Her employer, The Future of Now magazine, still didn’t trust her to do it right. But what other story was there besides the future of humanity? What the fuck was she even doing here? Picking apart the trash of our race – these people didn’t need disgruntled artificial minds to burn them to the ground. The needle was enough to do it for them. 

The smell of salty sulfur was fresh around each corner, just brewed, just bought, recently haggled, essential, the only thing to keep em’ going. As far as Joz could tell these days, they were calling it Essence, almost dreamy in a way – a sickly combination of desperation and chaos. It bounced from wall to wall between vendors’ tables, each tightly packed into as many spaces as they could manage. A woman with dark circles under each eye and a purple mohawk touted her tower of magazines and books as if they’d serve any purpose today. The shirt she wore read “Stop the Bots”. A pudgy fellow with a handlebar mustache stood on an old bucket as he screamed about the necessity one might need in a container with a metal handle. Seemingly pointless when every Bot was built with an inherent need to remove waste. Why would any human need to do so on their own anymore? 

Joz wound her way through the maze of many useless items: a fire pit, a can opener, a metal watering can, each cast away as easily as the pile of severed robot parts. Nobody moved on as humans did. 

Near the center of the dome, a towering metal structure had gone up, a patchwork of severed arms and amputated mechanical legs, each stacked this way and that. Spare ears, old teeth, human in appearance, but upon closer inspection scattered throughout with bits of sneaking wire – the truth of their existence. 

As Joz turned another corner, the flickering neons cast against the surrounding vendors. The shifting flag hovered gently above the man selling below: Lenny’s LowDown. When she reached it, Joz leaned against the end of Lenny’s floating table, out of the way. She bent her knee, slid her leg under her bum, and sat back, the other leg dangling in front of her. 

Lenny hobbled over, an injury from The Russian OnSlaught, he’d tell you. His brown leather jacket hung limply from his shoulders, the many pockets filled with solar panels and disintegrating twisty ties. His shoulders were broad, but they barely came up to Joz’s. He leapt onto one of the stools he had placed at various spots throughout his shop. 

“Ya know, you’re the only pretty girl I let sit on my buzza’ like that. If I didn’t know no betta, I’d bet ya was tryin’ to be disrespectful. Least, that’s how I’d treat any man, doin’ so.” 

Joz lifted herself from the table, turning and leaning in on her elbows, lowering herself to his level. She bowed her head, shifting her eyelashes in a way she hoped looked attractive.

“Len. Please forgive me. It was only that I needed swift attention. Mission accomplished. ‘Sides, you told me you were becoming more progressive lately. That talk sounds pretty sexist.” She winked at him and turned to smile at the men that Lenny had been talking to only moments before. “I’ll have him back in a jiffy, gentlemen.” She said to them before turning back to Lenny. He sighed, pulling his tattered Jeff cap further down over his bubbling forehead – a sure sign he’d been dealing in Essence. 

“Hasn’t anybody told you that stuff you been shootin’ is no good…” 

Lenny scoffed, “Please don’t tell me that’s what you came here lookin’ for. A furkin’ argument? You can shift right off, Jozzy, ain’t nobody got time to hear you whack poetic.” 

“It’s wax poetic, Len. I’ll leave it at that. Sue me for lookin’ out.” she shrugged. “My business lies elsewhere.” 

She laid her left hand out, palm up, and as she did, Lenny leaned forward to get a glimpse at the tiny screen that was sculpted into her wrist, a gadget similar to that in his own wrist, in everyone. She thought briefly about her bank account and in moments her credits appeared on the small surface standing out so drastically against her dark complexion. 

⦽4094 

“This is what I can offer. It is all that I have left after…” She tried not to think about how cold the bed still was, and the lonely aspect of their flat downtown. She clutched at the locket again before standing straight.

Lenny bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out another sigh.

“Look, Jozzy, I know it’s been tough since you lost, Dram. We all miss him. He was a furkin’ hero. Fighting the Resistance and all. But you know, this ain’t enough to make it worth it for me. We… I have to keep up appearances. Here…” Len pulled a large rectangle of thin glass and plastic from the back pocket of his baggy sweatpants. “How bout you buy a cell phone or sometin’? Take inventory off my hands.” 

“Len, I need something to go on, anything. Corp got the story. What am I supposed to do? And what the hell is that thing?” She pointed at the piece of material on the table between them, its uselessness palpable.

“It’s a cell phone, from back in the day. Want one?” He smiled at her, and a small roach traveled from one tooth to the other, skittering from the exposure. 

“Why in hell would I need one of those? Why would anyone want that? We have our implants.” I pointed to the tiny square robot that had been transplanted into my arm at birth. 

“Well, there’s a new trend, haven’t ya heard? Unplugging. It’s what the kids are doing these days. Tearing out their implants, living off the grid. Sounds like quite an adventure to me.” 

Joz shook her head. “Are you even listening to me? I need a story, bud. News. Something that people actually care about.” 

Lenny shook his head, “How about you give me that shiny thing hung round your neck?” He leaned in toward her, his eye’s dazzling at the shifting shimmer of silver. Joz recoiled, tucking the only piece she had left of her husband into her collared shirt. 

“Fat chance,” she murmured. 

Lenny sighed again, “Suit yoself. Here’s what I can offer ya. There’s a new fella, he posted up at the edge somewheres, I been hearing interesting whispers about the guy, and that may be your best shot. Happy hunting.” 

He pushed back off the table and hopped down off his stool, smirking back at her before continuing with the others. She let the air leak out of her like a deflated zeppelin, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Onto the next… 

Joz had walked to the edge of the dome, stopping at any open spot amongst the tables to ask any questions about “the new guy”. She found nothing of interest until her 6th table. The older lady behind the buzzer was handing out firestick attachments by the bundle and pushing old c-type chargers into any hands that were willing to take them. 

When Joz came to stand in front of her, asking about the new vendor, the older lady grimaced before pointing into an alcove that had been formed by looming tents. Joz forgot to say thank you. 

She pulled back the thick blue curtain and found herself surrounded by a mass of gleaming, glow-in-the-dark trash. Neon lights and tiny yellow-green stars spattered the cloth ceiling. Blacklight tubes hung shifting with the energy of the dome, some of them flickering, signaling their exhaustion. There were tapestries strewn with the Tree of Life and chakra symbols glowing ominously in a line depicting the spine. Joz spun around, looking for any sign of life, and came upon a crystal ball, hovering distantly against darkened curtains. The lavender glow spilled against the floor of the dome, creating a path to itself. 

Joz came to stand next to it, the floating orb thrumming gently. She reached out to touch it but a hissing sound in her ear made her jump out of her skin. 

“Holy Flork!” she yelled, spinning around and placing a hand over her heart. Booming laughter came from the towering man standing in front of her, his dark hood pulled up over his head. Joz could make out his sharp cheekbones and thin lips but couldn’t see his eyes. 

“It’s not very nice to startle people,” she said to him, still panting slightly. 

“It’s not very nice to touch other people’s things.” he chided, his voice dripping like HyperCar oil. 

She hoped he didn’t notice her eyes roll to the back of her head, “Point taken.” 

The man sat behind the floating orb, seemingly hovering just as the glowing ball did, as there was no visible support beneath him. 

“Who are you? What is that thing?” 

“Name’s Rin and this… is the Orb of Old but I’m certain you’re not here to talk about me and mine. What is it that you seek?”

Joz saw two opportunities here: hocus pocus waste of time or the potential for a story. It was a stretch but all she had. She secretly cursed Lenny for sending her on this wild goose chase. 

She pointed at the orb. “Does your orb tell the future?” 

Rin shook his head at her, “I can feel your misbelief. And so can the orb. You’ll have to believe to know the truth.” 

Joz snorted, “Sorry, I am running a little low on belief these days…” 

“You’d be surprised.”

She pulled the locket from her shirt, letting the cool metal rest against her thumb as she stared into the purplish glow of the orb. A frigid breeze blasted through the tent, rushing against her skin and through her head. It pulled at her, entering her mind and whispering nonsense. She shook herself and pulled her gaze away. 

“What was that?” 

Rin smirked at her, “What did you see?”

“Nothing… I… It was only sensation.”

“What kind? Happiness?” His question was filled with doubt. 

Her body started to shake, “No, not happiness.” 

Joz cleared her throat, “I think I’ve made a mistake.” She pushed against the table to stand but Rin reached for, grasping at her arm. He placed his other hand on the orb. Electricity forced Joz’s head upward, the glowing ceiling circling down on her, the bright lights engulfed every cell. Rin’s fingernails bit into her arm as they shook together. The whispers rose to deafening heights, but it all came in tongues. As soon as it started it was over, and the two fell to the floor, just in time to hear the name in the air. Dram Arcana.

Panting, Joz forced her hands against the ground to right herself, but the weakness was too much. Gasping breaths shook Rin as he struggled to get words out. 

“How do you…. Do you know…?”

“Spit it out,” she gasped back at him. 

He pulled in a long shaking inhale. “Dram. How do you …know him? 

Something snapped inside Joz. 

“Dram… He was… How did you know my husband?”

“Oh, you’re Joz…” Recognition settled on the man’s face before he scrambled to his feet and walked over to her. He offered a hand, and she took it, righting herself. 

“I’m sorry… I’m having a hard time following. Have we met?”

Rin chuckled, “He always talked about you. Drove everybody freakin’ nuts.” 

Burning started in Joz’s eyes, “Oh, Rin. When did you last see him? Did you fight with him? Against the resistance?”

Rin curled an eyebrow at her. Instead of answering, his hand fell to the back of his hood and in one fluid movement the fabric was falling from his skull. The silvery metal of robot bone ran the length of his cranium, intricate wires peeking out at odd ends, the pulse of oil shifting through clear wiring. 

“I am the Resistance; Dram is the Resistance as well. What did he tell you? Do you know what he believes in?"

Joz shook her head, placing her palms against her forehead. She remembered watching her husband as he spoke quietly with robots that lined the streets, the gentle way he had placed a hand over their exposed mechanical shoulders. 

"He never talked about it… I guess he couldn't…" she looked up at Rin's eyes for the first time. The steel metal irises pierced into her. "Did you… were you there when he died?"

A bark of laughter escaped Rin, "Dead? Since when? Last I heard, he managed to unplug. He’s in hiding, taking the robot refugees to the place beyond the Star.” 

Joz wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly, the pulse of blood in her head was much too loud. The tears were falling before she could stop them. Her Dram. He wasn’t… 

“Rin, you have to listen to me. They told me Dram was killed. By a robot during the Resistance. Are you trying to tell me that he’s… he’s still alive.” 

“If they believe him to be dead, then his plan worked. He may have slipped under the radar and is making his way along the underground path.” Rin turned, heading back to the Orb that shimmered with knowing and started to weave the circular light in cloth. 

Joz didn’t know what to say, how to move or if she could even breathe anymore. She was frozen with the knowledge that he was out there. 

“Joz.” Rin was in front of her again, holding a bag which must have contained the orb. “Come with me. We… we can find Dram.” 

“How? He’s unplugged, if he doesn’t want to be found…” she trailed off, unable to come to terms with the fact that he hadn’t even tried to reach her. 

Rin took her by the shoulders, forcing her to stare into those eyes again. 

“He never wanted to leave you, Joz. You were everything to him. But he has a vision for this world, a hope for the future and it was something worth believing in. Forgive him for choosing this, it was his destiny.” 

He let go of her and walked out of the massive tented area. Joz ran after him. She pushed the curtain to the side and the cacophony of the roadshow tried pushing her back to reality. Rin stood looking at the tents, his hood pulled back up over his skull. With a pull of a cord, the many tarps started to fold in on themselves until they were no larger than a suitcase. He threw all of his items into the pack that appeared on his back. 

“So, you’re coming then?” he asked her, shifting as the pack attached to the wires against his skin.

Joz looked up at him, fingering the locket once more. She thought about leaving it all behind, the story, her job, everything she cared about. What did she care about? The money? The Glory? Having the last laugh over Mr. Corp. Who gave a shit? She laughed, realizing it all meant nothing to her without Dram. 

She placed the locket back into her collared shirt and looked up at Rin. 

“What else am I supposed to do? Hang out here?” She spread her arms wide, and both her and Rin laughed before they stalked off toward the entrance – toward a better world.