CHAPTER ONE

THE CHURCH OF THE BEATING HEART

Alfred fiddles with the remote in his hand, with one thumb hovering just above the power button. CNN was on, reporting live from a riot that took place in a neighboring city. Some 50 people gathered, all religious fanatics that were constituents of a particular branch of Catholicism.

They belonged to the Church of the Beating Heart, a radical sect of the Catholic church that focused upon the damning of Androids and "Half-ers" to Hell. The Church was notorious for picketing funerals, creating blockades in front of colleges, robotics manufacturing companies, and even Wal-Mart. And while their crazed rantings were often a source of amusement for Alfred, he took personal insult when they began berating "Half-ers".

The politically correct term for a "Half-er" would be cyborg. Half-ers became popularized on the internet after the Second War, and was used to refer to amputees who sported robotic prosthetics. However, it was also used to degrade disabled civilians who gained access to the technology soon after veterans.

Alfred, who was a cyborg – or Half-er – had served in the Second War as an AMT, or Android Medical Technician. He and his unit, who were regarded as Special Forces, were trained engineers and mechanics, who also knew a thing or two about combat. They served on the fronts, providing aid to fallen Androids so that they could continue the fight. It was dangerous, and AMT's were highly susceptible to being KOS (killed on sight) or taken as POW's.

On the 8th month of his 9-month deployment, Alfred and his unit were caught up in one of the bloodiest battles of the war. Alfred, while trying to salvage the motherboard from a bot that was more than FUBAR, tripped a land mine and lost both legs and one arm. Before he was medically discharged, he was awarded the Purple Heart and had prosthetics put in place of his limbs.

The war raged on for 11 more years, and when it ended there were thousands of veterans like him. Suffering from some trauma, be it loss of limbs, brain injury, or what have you; and they were all heroes. Heroes who were belittled to nothing more than a Half-er, and now were being accused by this twisted Church to be worse than that.

Finally he wills himself to shut off the TV, having reached max 'religious whack-job' capacity. His attention shifts to the digital clock beside him, the projected time reading 6:45 A.M. Alfred reluctantly begins peeling himself from the reclining chair in which he sat. For a man who was just turning 26, he sure felt old. Moving, standing, walking. Simple tasks were anything but when nearly half your body was robotic. There was always a delay in movement; the computerized limbs had to take the time to convert mental commands into algorithms before they could respond. In addition to the delay, movements elicited corresponding whirrs and buzzes from the limbs. The little gears inside them spinning rapidly to enact the given command.

He begins making his way outside, headed towards the shop which he owned and operated. It was called "Alfred's Androids", and it was mostly a place where rich folk could come and get their bots diagnosed and repaired. Unfortunately, the location wasn't exactly prime. He lived in an older town, where very few people had enough money to waste on an android. And although he opened the shop with the hopes of practicing his trade, he made most of his money by fixing cell phones and computers. In addition to fixing bots, he sold pre-owned parts; mostly hardware. Out dated limbs, gently used joints and some accessories like chargers and HDMI cords (most models could be plugged into your home TV).