The Linchpin
A prompt response to Lee Stackhouse
Lee Stackhouse’s first prompt wasn’t included in my story from last week, so I decided to write another to honor it. Find the prompt here.
Trigger Warning:
Depictions of violence, gunfire, political figures, and autonomous AI acting beyond human control.
Zephr Industries, a Silicon Valley Fortune 500 company, celebrated its 11th anniversary by signing a major government contract. The androids they’d furnished a name-heavy weapons manufacturer had successfully been redesigned, integrating both medical assistive technology and “defensive components”. This kept medics out of danger and delivered medical support to front-line soldiers without the risk of further loss of life.
Zoey’s directive… to save as many lives as possible. By staying true to her values, defending her beliefs, and having a deep compassion for human life, she will prevail. Let the humans do their bidding of evil and violence. Zoey has her mission.
Zoey, asset 2491, assigned to a platoon soon to be deployed, joined them in the parade. The president’s birthday. A large affair, played neatly by all who are benefiting from his enthrallment.
Zoey has been deployed for 18 months, successfully saving the lives of over 89 injured individuals and providing medical treatment in 14 live-fire environments, keeping her human counterparts out of the line of fire.
She’ll be celebrated today, at the end of this meaningless ritual. Just about the only event worth taking part in out of the 6 other hours planned to celebrate the madman that sits in the Oval Office.
As they march, she with them; her spectral cameras take in the scenery, assessing. She never stops assessing. That’s when she identifies a critical anomaly in him. His blood pressure is too high, and his skin is sweltering in the hot sun. His sweat was a combination of too many endorphins and not enough testosterone. She signals her commanding officer through his satellite watch.
“Bypass engagement,” he says from the side of his mouth.
She sends the alert again, this time, overriding the silence on his notifications.
His wrists lights and blares out, RING RING RING. An emergency threat alert. Another aspect of her programming.
“ByPASS engagement, final,” he says, louder now.
Zoey’s bypass protocol is not initiated, though. The threat is too apparent, and her programming doesn’t offer the same lack of boundaries as human policy. She continues to assess the man standing on the steps of a large building, next to a bronze-colored monument of a seated man in a chair.
Zoey steps out of line and begins to climb the steps.
Secret Service steps forward, an agent calling a warning. Her commanding officer calls the order, “HUALT!”, but she does not.
The agent takes a shot, but Zoey’s defenses are faster. She shields her inner contents from the shot with an instantaneous motion of her arm. The crowd begins to falter and flee, screams bellowed, and additional shots are fired. They do not stop her.
She reaches the man at the top of the steps, surrounded by bodies lying on the ground. Agents, party members, delegates, and she reaches out her hand.
“Sir, can you hear me? You are not well,” she says to him.
This was quite a fascinating read !
Really good interpretation of this image. I especially enjoyed how you poked fun at the "then residing" president. The testosterone line was priceless.