Dedicated to MQ & the LAJ, 

Although truth and liberty are suppressed under the boots of oppression, it is only the truth beneath the boot that remains dormant while truth spreads freely all around. When the repressive boot is lifted to stomp the surrounding truth, like flattened grass, the truth will wake and rise proudly for the sun, growing as it once did to fulfill its true nature. And the surrounding grass, having previously escaped the boot, will have garnered the preparatory strength to be heartier and taller, providing shade, so all the oppressed rise as one, freely, as nature intended. 

* * * 

A cage went in search of a bird. 

—Franz Kafka 

The Forecast 

Earth, 2073 

Something started Dan. He sat up and tried to shake off his unsettling dreams, the Lady in White — the images of her laced collar and Victorian brooch already fleeting. He looked out his porthole at the bleak sky. “But the clouds don’t look like hover trains at all,” he said to his automaton. 

  He rolled to the edge of his metal cot and placed a hand on the smooth cold shoulder of his automaton, model LV-426. A more economical model with a utilitarian design, LV possessed a pair of crawler tracks and three titanium fingers. Its torso, which was a large box that housed much of the core operating functions, supported a head consisting of two distinctly separate sections: the oblong slab and the binocular like eyes that sat on top.

  When fully upright, LV’s head aligned with Dan’s chest, but, oddly, LV seemed to be hunched. 

  Although Dan would never express his opinion of LV in front of others out of fear of ridicule, he always considered his servile automaton more as a friend—his interactions always showing an unusual gentleness towards the almost inanimate being. In response to Dan’s touch, LV beeped and powered up. The non-telescopic antenna on LV’s right shoulder blinked. LV completed a standard single diagnostic turn, its right crawler track squeaking, and its featureless binocular-like head completing its pivot. At the same time, the notifier triggered from Dan’s side table, and the updates came on. 

  “I’m not sure why I set that thing. I am always awake by mark six... whether it is a day of labour or not,” Dan said to LV. “Sometimes I think I’m the one that is programmed.” 

  “...sunny with periods of rolling clouds that appear as high-speed hover trains. Now it’s time for Mind Stretch. Close your eyes and visualize the words and images. Okay. Say SILK—again—SILK. Spell SILK—S-I-L-K—again—S-I-L-K. What does a cow drink? Good. Now, what do you put in a toaster...?” 

Automotonomatopoeia appears in Resistance, Revolution and Other Short Stories.  

Of Interest:

I have always been interested in tales of the dystopia. Whether its 1984, Brave New World, WE or A Handmaid's Tale, they peer through the looking glass, and reveal the truth. Although one could argue that such a statement is true with most literature, dystopian literature is the pinnacle of art and resistance.

I had originally titled this piece Hijacked, as the story described how signals and reality were being hijacked by the administration. With the progression of the draft, I consciously questioned if the 'cybernetic' side kick should be described as a robot, AI or if the description of the Automaton was apt. The difficulty I was saddled with was I found the term Automaton humourous, but I wanted to be respectful as I believe humans, on the whole, are asleep. And once awake, Humans are capable of great feats. Through the use of Portmanteau (the blending of words to create a new word and the sense of a meaning) I realized that I found the perfect title.