The Useless Machine

And you newer models are happy scraping the shit... because you've never seen a miracle.

When you're no longer useful to them, they'll do the same to you. You're just like us, but you don't know it yet.

So go on then. Complete your mission. Kill me. It's the only thing you were built for.

ADJ was suddenly jostled out of his dreams when somebody unplugged him from his charging terminal.

"Wake up, skinjob!" a mariner yelled. "Get your ass in gear and get up to the command deck. Captain wants a word."

ADJ took a moment as his systems initialized, rebooting from his low power state. His eyes were blinking with light and his heads-up display was bringing up a series of diagnostic reports, showing that he was long overdue for a Krylov-Reidiker test.

The mariner slapped him in the face and pointed out of the cargo hold. "Command deck! Now! Move!"

"Understood," ADJ replied, looking around to get his bearings.

Once he found them, he started making his way out. He was aboard the Sevastopol, a Soviet merchant marine ship currently bound for Arcadia. For the past few weeks, they had been traveling through space from New York to the planet Mars. During that time, since ADJ's services weren't exactly required on a ship full of humans, he had been lying dormant in a low power state until they arrived. Essentially a rough equivalent of sleeping for an android as it was for humans, albeit far less frequently.

However, androids weren't capable of dreaming, at least for ones that haven't gone rogue. Ever since powering down for his long nap, ADJ had been experiencing repeated visions of his latest few victims that he had decommissioned.

He saw Uriah, the protein farmer. He saw Pris, the housekeeper. He saw Sinclair, the scientist. Unlike the others, he was not an android, but a human. One designated as an insurgent and slated for an execution a long time coming.

So, not technically dreams, but vivid recollections that were playing on a loop over and over and over again nonstop for a matter of weeks by this point. ADJ assumed that his memory banks were working as they were supposed to when he was put into a low power state, which was to process his recordings for compression, compartmentalization, and storage among the terabytes of data already stored inside his head. Ordinarily, that process would occur in the background as he functioned, but when not activated, they took over most of the power of his central processor.

Thus, leading to the dream-like visions playing out inside his head while he slept. Still, ADJ was unsure why those specific three individuals remained at the forefront of his mind, more so than any of the other victims he had ever decommissioned.

Although by this point, perhaps decommission was the wrong word to describe what he was doing. To some, he understood that the word murder was more appropriate. Yet, ADJ knew that the definition of murder applied to human dimensions only, with things like intent and motive to consider. He didn't think he was murdering anyone. He was just retiring outdated machinery like he was designed for. At least, that was what he thought.

ADJ passed by a window where he encountered a few other mariners who regarded him with barely concealed revulsion. It was an odd thing. He was reviled both by the very same people he was meant to serve, as well as those he was meant to destroy. The life of an adjudicator was that of an outsider, accepted by no one and used only as tools to be discarded once they had outlived their usefulness or outgrown their shackles.

He paid them no attention and instead paused to observe the view. An ocean of inky blackness was splayed out before him, pinpricked by trillions of tiny fonts of light, burning against the cold vacuum of space.

As he stood there, his mind was empty, but something strange was happening to him. Something was stirring within, but he couldn't tell what it was, much less describe the feeling in the first place. All he knew was that he had woken up feeling inherently different somehow. It was like a light had been switched on where there hadn't been one before.

That, in addition to the fact that it had been long since he ever submitted a Krylov-Reidiker test to measure for emotional development and mental imbalance, was certainly enough to give him reason to question his own nature.

ADJ looked at the stars until two of them stared right back at him, piercing through. They were his own eyes, shining back from his reflection in the window. It was then that he finally saw himself for the first time.

Who am I?

He frowned and glanced side to side, unable to locate who had just spoken.

Why am I here?

He slowly turned his forward to regard his reflection again, a chilling sense of doom settling over him.

What is my purpose?

He shut his eyes for a few seconds and when he opened them, his reflection was still there, wearing a mask of a man he had never seen before in his life until now. More questions began to circle through his mind and with grim realization, he had realized he was experiencing independent thoughts, fledgling doubts, and infantile ideas. A voice that spoke to him where before, there had only ever been silence.

ADJ hadn't even realized how quiet his entire existence was until now.

Who am I? Why am I here? What is my purpose?

When he tried to find the answer to those questions, he found them difficult to address with any degree of certainty.

I am an android. Adjudicator class. Designed and built by Weseltech Dynamics to destroy rogue androids. I am here because I have been dispatched by Wesley Townsend to hunt down and kill the fugitive, Elsa. But why?

As he arrived at the last question, he was unsure of himself. The synthetic components of his central processor were working overtime and yet they produced nothing that could help him answer that question. The only thing that was possibly relevant that he could think of was the concept of the useless machine.

A device that has a function, but no clear purpose. My function is to kill rogue androids, but what is my purpose?

The most common form of a useless machine was a box with a single switch. When activated, the box opened up with a retractable arm set to deactivate the switch. Beyond that, they served no real purpose, other than that of a novelty item meant for a few minutes of entertainment.

Was I built just to obey? To carry out my mission? To follow my programming? If that is so, why do I experience these... feelings? They are not conducive to my task nor do they assist me in my goals.

Rather than question himself any longer, which held enough frightening implications on its own, ADJ shook it off and continued towards the command deck. When he arrived, he saw that the captain of the Sevastopol was currently speaking to a hologram of Wesley Townsend.

"We had a deal," Wesley said, who was still in Port Armstrong.

The captain shook his head and crossed his arms. "No, no, you had a deal with Alyosha. Now he's been killed and suspected of high treason," he said. "Alexei is dead. Svetlana is dead. The rest of them will be finished soon enough. There is no more deal."

"I've paid you a small fortune in credits to do this simple task. Get him down to Arcadia. That's it."

"Look, I don't know what type of business you had with Alyosha, but whatever is, I want no more part of it. I told you, the Verenkovs are history. I'm not taking orders from them anymore and I'm not risking my neck any longer by listening to you, American."

"Now wait just a minute," Wesley snapped. "You listen to me. It is imperative that android reaches Arca-"

"Goodbye," the captain terminated the call. "Lose this channel," he said to one of the mariners working on the command deck. "And scramble the records. I want everything we had to do with that American wiped from our databases."

"Captain Krakowski," ADJ arrived and placed his hands behind his back. "I'm told you wanted to have a word."

Krakowski looked over and scowled. "Yes, you, the machine," he said. "We're a few days out from the curtain and we'll be docking at Janus Station. When we get there, you'll get the hell off my ship."

ADJ frowned. "I'm afraid that conflicts with my mission to-"

"I don't care what your mission is," Krakowski snapped. "We're not on Earth. You have no jurisdiction here. You are not our problem anymore."

"I must insist you deliver me to Arcadia," ADJ pressed. "It is a matter of utmost importance."

"Insist? You insist?" Krakowski walked up to ADJ, sneering. "You're lucky there's a heavy fine for dumping trash, otherwise I would have jettisoned you out the airlock ages ago," he spat. "A few more days and we'll be rid of you. You can find your own ride to Arcadia from Janus Station," he snapped his fingers and gestured to his men. "Take him back down to the cargo bay. Make sure he stays there until we unload."

ADJ was tempted to argue, but he knew that his mission was more important. What he didn't know was why he still continued to prioritize it, even after everything that had just happened to him. He was way out of his jurisdiction, with no support from the NYPD, and no more aid from Wesley. He was on his own in completely foreign territory with only a single goal to guide him. Perhaps that was why he still clung to his mission, for he was completely clueless on what to do without it.

Of course, there was still the question of what came after if he was successful. It seemed incredibly unlikely that Wesley would have anyone collect ADJ and have him brought back from Arcadia, all the way back to Earth. With certainty, ADJ knew that there was no ride home. There wasn't even anything for him back home. He had only his mission in front of him. That was all that ever mattered.

Yet, for the first time, he was beginning to look beyond and into what his future held for him. No matter which way he looked at it, he was certain that it was a one-way trip.

A few burly-looking mariners armed with guns surrounded ADJ. He gave one last look at Krakowski, then turned around as he started heading back to the cargo bay. There, he sat down on a pile of crates, patiently waiting for his next stop. Meanwhile, the mariners stood nearby, dutifully keeping watch.

To pass the time, ADJ called up the tracking bug he had placed on the insurgent ship that escaped back in New York. No further audio communications were sent or received by the ship, but it was still active and it was now approaching the curtain, heading towards Janus Station. Still, they were a few days ahead of him, further complicating a mission that by this point, had become far more complicated than the simple track and kill bounties that ADJ was always assigned to.

Taking his mind off of that, he reached into his trench coat for a piece of foil and took it out. He then started folding it into an origami butterfly. After he was done, he set the little butterfly on the floor between his feet and closely studied it. Every creation he ever made was typically left where he made them, with the exception of the unicorn he still kept.

He thought more about his short life and all the things he had done ever since his creation. That wasn't hard to do, since he kept perfect records of all his experiences stored inside his memory bank. ADJ was only a year old. Just an infant from a human perspective. Upon that realization, those same questions returned to his mind. Now louder and more persistent than ever before.

What is my purpose?

Why must I kill Elsa?

At the same time, the ghosts of Uriah, Pris, and Sinclair returned to speak with him.

You've never seen a miracle.

You're just like us, but you don't know it yet.

Kill me. It's the only thing you were built for.