Callous Robots

• Rick Bhattacharyya, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2018

Zylom gasped in awe. An elaborate, exotic and exquisite hot-air balloon swayed in the fire-lit evening sky like a chandelier in a ballroom. The majestic airborne machine suddenly zoomed at 500km/hr, defying gravity and landed in the backyard without an explosion. In a state of frenzied confusion, Zylom yelped as he was thrown on the gainsboro concrete porch like a rag-doll. The unexplainable force of momentum left him disorientated and sore.
A chill ran down his spine. Zylom swivelled his head in horror to witness his carbon-copied faces. The replicons seemed to cave in, slowly choking him with claustrophobia. He squeezed his eyes shut. Without being overwhelmed by this first encounter, he bolted as far as he could until every muscle tensed up and a jab of excruciating pain shot through his body. Zylom doubled over on the chestnut footpath with thoughts swirling inside his head like a cyclone. The synthetic grass of the desolate park felt unusual on Zylom’s latex skin. He tingled in response and gawped at a swing longing for company.
He fell into a short trance of relaxation until a green laser beam burned a hole through the bench just inches form his arm. Alarmed, Zylom leaped to his feet and threw hasty glances around him. After an agonizingly slow two minutes, a mirror-faced robot attacked him. Zylom stood stupidly, surprised by his persuiter’s high level of cryostasis. Instantly, its brass arm grimacing uncoiled and slashed him. Its robust arms were a collection of electric circuit boards held together by its screw like knuckles, imitating puzzle pieces. The robot aimed a laser gun at his chest and flashed a nasty, opaque smirk as if scrutinizing its prey. Defenceless, Zylom stood still like a stone idol. The robot’s grotesque legs, tumultuous toes, monstrous intertwined index fingers and their incessant quivering made him queasy.
He watched several green lasers being mercilessly fired towards him like a petrified child entering pre-school for the first time. “This is the end!” muttered Zylom in muffled weeps. His entire life flashed back. 3029 had so far been the best year of his life which included flying miniature aircraft with x-ray vision and coding on a holographic laptop. Suddenly, he sluggishly thumped onto the ground in rasps of pain from the impact of a void of death rays.
Warm viscous blood spluttered out of his chest like a fountain. Zylom thrashed his hands in desperate attempts of survival. Numerous scorched entry points condensed erratically. When his body was limp, the robot slithered to Zylom and poked him squeamishly with its menacing arm; then took a snapshot of the corpse. The flash echoed in the silence like banging gongs. Two words- “Mission accomplished!” boomed. The callous robot once again slipped into the darkness.
Zylom’s body no longer inhaled the frosty night air. The mist covered the world into a blanket of illusion, the temperature dropped to sub-zero and this time, the park fell into a trance of ignorant relaxation…