Nothing by Arnold East - HTML preview

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Chapter One

 

It took ten months for 541588 to apply its deconditioning to a satisfactory number of people, and it was a further two months before its plans for the domination of the commune were complete. It had deconditioned seventy-three, which was most of those who lived in the same apartment. Applying the process to everyone in the commune had crossed its mind. It was the most peaceful and perhaps simple method out of the many it had thought up, but 541588 had realised it would take too long. It took six months deconditioning just 73 and it was almost totally burnt out. It was only carried through the planning it did during the rest of the year by sheer force of will.

In the end, its plan was simple. It would burn and destroy things in a way that would have a big impact on life in the commune and thus coerce action from the leader and the central control. Then, it would proceed to conquer whatever was sent at it, culminating in a surrender by the governing forces and a relinquishing of control to it. 541588 was confident in its plan. A year of hard work would surely yield a positive result, wouldn’t it?

With all the preparations having been made, and a week off taken to recuperate, it was time to begin. It entered the room of each of the seventy-three, explained its plan to them, and told them to meet it in front of their apartment building the next night. To get the others to obey this sort of command was not easy. It was only after a multitude of further exercises after the original day of conditioning that allowed them to be able to fully follow its orders. It was the reason why the process had been so arduous. But it had all worked out, and so, late the next night, they were all gathered as requested in front of the apartment, huddled together in their thin jumpers, looking around with apprehensive and fearful faces. A few minutes later 541588 appeared, dressed in the same kit as the others, though it was layered in three jumpers instead of one. It was a cold night. 541588 ordered the others to march; east, toward the wheat farms and the grain sheds. It itself disappeared toward the centre of the commune, where the manufactory lay. It hoped to prepare fire that it could use to set the fields alight and destroy the sheds there. It had been to the manufactory thrice before; once during a school excursion to learn about the place, again during an incognito trip it had made to scout the location, and a third time to plant the materials it needed to start a fire. The manufactory itself was one of dozens around the city. It was near the end of its age cycle, its concrete walls showing the scars of defying the elements for forty odd years. The new one had already begun construction in the empty plot next to it, and the old manufactory would be demolished within the next few years, its raw materials sent away to be recycled. These could not be used in the new building, since the new manufactory had to be ready the day the old one closed.

541588 entered, finding a slow way through the dark with outstretched hands. This manufactory was used for the production of various wooden objects. Doors, chairs, tables, bed frames were all made here. 541588 climbed over some work benches, and felt its way to the wood scrap bin that sat in the middle of the room. It was emptied in the morning and so it was presently brimming. 541588 reached in, feeling through the different shapes and angles, eventually finding itself a nice long and flat piece of wood. It eased it out as smooth as it could, but as soon as the piece was dislodged, the intricate puzzle inside the bin collapsed, causing a flurry of noise.

It didn’t matter; no-one was going to come. They never did, and that was the real problem. But 541588 was sure a fire would entice them, force them. It crawled back over the benches with the wood plank in hand, and proceeded toward the drills. It found the switch, flicked it, and a dim red light appeared, allowing it just enough visibility to begin working. Of course, it was far too impractical to make all the eclectic machines, such as drill machines in the one commune. There was a necessary trade between communes, with each specialising in making a specific piece of machinery. Whenever a commune needed such equipment, the leader could send a message to another leader requesting one, and this equipment would be soon made available.

541588 placed the piece of wood under the drill and slowly lowered the drill until it hit the wood, where it allowed the drill bit to rest, whirring maniacally. Pungent smoke emanated from the mutilation, filling the air with a heavy haze and soon there was a deep hole in the wood filled with fine black dust. Then the first embers appeared, small orange lights that flickered as the drill tossed them around the hole. 541588 hastily stopped the machine, pulled out a few crumpled, dried pieces of paper it had shoved under its shirt and fed it onto the embers. They were the messages from the “ally”, the enemy. Well at least they were being put to good use now. The paper caught alight easily, and the flames eventually spread to engulf everything, shining with a defiant energy until the fuel was used up. Then there were only embers again. It needed to get these to the farms, six kilometres away.

A few weeks beforehand, it had begun the plan for this specific night. It had found an Army Survival Manual sitting in the library, and inside were detailed instructions on how to create, fuel and carry a fire. As it read and learnt more, the idea of starting a fire in the commune seemed a distinct possibility. It scoured its memory, finding the ingredients, the tools; everything it needed to execute this plan. Elements that floated in its head turned into concrete ideas; the pieces of wood and the drills in the manufactory, the paper from the ally, the bucket from the recycling plant, and all these congealed into a rock, a purpose. Then it began to act, scouting various manufactories, drying its paper in the sun, sneaking an empty tin of paint from the recycling plant and hiding it under a corner table. Everything was ready for tonight. Now, it found the tin again and deposited the embers and the rest of its paper into it. Then it departed the manufactory and headed toward the fields, as the first signs of the new day streaked across the clouded sky and the sun poked through the horizon. It was running out of time, the people were soon going to begin work in the field.