It doesn't take me long to find him.
David's face is ashen, devoid of the character and intelligence that made him so different. Now he's just like the others, cold and hollow, lying still as if waiting to be awakened from a long slumber. But I know he'll never wake up again. I place my palm on the cool glass.
"I'm so sorry, David."
I swallow hard and scrub the tears from my eyes before taking my leave. I can do nothing for him now, and I still have to find a way out of the moving prison I've been confined in.
I clamber down and then drop to the floor, staggering from the vibrations of the transport as it barrels along the battered terrain. My visibility is limited, but I see enough of my surroundings to realize my options are few. There isn't much else besides the pod compartments, and certainly no avenue of escape from a moving transport.
I take a closer look at the grooves on the floor. A hatch installed for unloading cargo might provide me with an opportunity to open it and drop to the ground when the transport stops. With any luck, I can hide and make a break when the coast is clear.
I pause to consider. If I've learned anything, it's that the machines are excellent at predicting my actions. My empty pod is probably already detected. In that case, the calculations are already in effect, outlining every possible course of action I might take. Escaping from the hatch when the transport stops would be obvious. I'd probably drop directly into the mechanized arms of the simdroid soldiers waiting for me.
It dawns on me what I have to do.
I remove a toolbox from its wall harness and find a crowbar which might suit my purpose. I use it to pry open the hatchway. It takes all of my strength to pull the heavy door open. Dust from the rolling tires immediately clouds the interior, making me cough.
I unbutton my jacket and pull my undershirt over my nose and mouth as I lie flat on the floor and creep forward to peer over the edge. Every jolt of movement threatens to send me flying through the open hatchway. The panic I feel is ironic considering my plan is to do exactly that.
The ground is a lot further away than I imagined. The transport's tires are massive, necessary for negotiating the rough terrain since the effects of the Cataclysm destroyed most roadways long ago. The broken ground is a blur of sand, rocks, and stunted plants. The transport's speed isn't all that fast compared to skimmer vehicles, but it looks downright suicidal when contemplating jumping from the hatchway.
"Don't do it."
The voice is so human that my breath catches in my throat. I turn from the hatch and see a woman at the doorway of the cargo hold. She's dressed in a navy uniform; her hair pulled back in a tight bun.
I'm amazed at how lifelike she is. I should have expected there were upgraded versions of the simdroids beyond the base. Even her movements seem authentic as she cautiously approaches.
I leap into a crouch and seize the crowbar. "Don't come near me!"
The simdroid raises her hands. "Michelle. It's Michelle, isn't it? My name is Virginia. Ok? Listen, you have to calm down. Don't do anything stupid."
"My name is Zina." I brandish the crowbar warningly. "Stupid? Like try to escape? I guess I should just submit like all the other kids and let you kill me, right?"
The confusion that flickers across her face is uncanny in its imitation of human expression. "What are you talking about? Put that crowbar down and let's talk about this."
When she comes within range, I swing as hard as I can. The crowbar strikes her knee with an unexpected crunch. The woman screams and falls to the ground, clutching her injured leg. I realize I've made a terrible mistake.
Virginia is human like me.
Everything suddenly comes together. The machines weren't trying to kill me. The children in the pods aren't dead. They're in a deep state of sleep while being transported to the next level of examination and restructuring. The machines need humans to perform rudimentary tasks, so they remove the best and brightest from the bases to further our training and increase our indoctrination.
So we become their willing servants. Like the woman I just attacked.
"Listen to me, you stupid girl." Virginia grimaces as she hobbles to her feet, favoring her injured leg. "You're going back in your pod. And when we get to the Haven, you better believe—"
Haven. Just like David said. It must be the headquarters of the machines, where the most sophisticated of their kind reside. I know there will be no chance of escape if I end up there.
I raise the crowbar again, but Julia moves faster than I can anticipate. She snatches the crowbar from my hands with humiliating ease and hurls it to the other side of the cargo bay. Then she seizes me by my lapels and hoists me off my feet.
That's when I kick her right in her injured knee.
She curses and drops me to grab her leg. The transport rolls over something large at that moment, throwing us off balance. We both tumble and slide across the floor. The open hatch yawns like a gaping mouth, and we can do nothing to stop our momentum.
In a tangle of arms and legs, we fall through the opening.
For a moment there is only a disorienting sensation of weightlessness blended with stinging dust and the roar of the transport's underbelly. I think Virginia screams, but her voice is lost in the grind of the chassis and massive spinning tires.
The impact of the ground against my body is like a punch thrown by a boulder-fisted giant. The only thing I can do is try to roll with the momentum as my breath is crushed from my lungs and a storm of noise rumbles around me.
Giant black rubber monsters grind the earth all around, smothering me with the gravelly aftermath of their violence. By some act of randomness, I'm not crushed under their heavy tread. The tires miss me by inches, and the transport lumbers on, oblivious to the departure of two of its inhabitants.
Virginia is not as fortunate.
I discover her body after I recover enough strength to stand. She's flattened in the tracks of the transport, broken and barely recognizable as human. My eyes well with tears as I turn away. Virginia was the only adult human I've ever seen, and in the blink of an eye, she's dead.
And I'm alone.
For the first time in my life, there are no orders. No instructions, no roving eyes which spy on my every movement and record my every act. For the first time in my life, I'm free to choose without fear of discovery.
The surroundings around me are ruins, the remnants of a civilization long dead. Only the ghosts remain, moaning in the wind as I contemplate my course. I decide to follow the transport's tracks because I believe they lead to civilization. The transport will need to stop for fuel at some point. Which means there will be outposts somewhere along the way. If I can reach one, I might have a chance. I might find other people. People like me who just want to live by their own free will.
The sun sets in a blaze of fire, painting the landscape in shades of blood and magic. The air slowly chills, and I fold my arms against my chest as I walk in the tracks of a giant, heading into the unknown.
4
Two years have passed since I claimed my freedom. Two years of scraping a living from the wilderness, learning about my new world and its inhabitants. I learned humans do live in the free world, and that most of them are vicious animals. My body is adorned with the scars of my education. My muscles are stronger, my fingers hardened with the weight of violent acts.
I have also learned that good people still exist. They hack out a living from a world that fights them at every turn, but they unyieldingly persist. Many castes of caring people have taken me in. Tribes formed not by family ties or racial bonds, but by a collective sense of humanity.