A Tale Of Flesh and Fiber

by pazu7

Of flesh and blood was he, fiber and wire was she, yet interfaced in the face of all that their bond decried. Was it really love, or just the illusion of such, which flared so brightly, and then died?

2. Chapter 2

A Tale Of Flesh And Fiber
By Bryan Harrison

ACT 1 SCENE 2

On the ruinous field there walk no men, but perhaps what could be known as such. Two by number, Solo and Link by name; Bereft of breath and beating heart, yet alive in their cognition; they are no kin in the manner of men, but brothers by their own definition. Worn by time, but sound of chip, they search the ruins for a fallen property, fit to be fit on the bodies of their Mechanique Clan. Among the shoots of a dried creek bed, Solo discerns the remains of a hand.

SOLO:
Do I spy a thumb, brother?

LINK:
I know not what you spy, but rather your eye for mischief. So, assuming it's just your jesting, sure, there's a thumb; I'll bite.

SOLO:
Tis no just assumption, for I've no jest, nor just bait for you to bite. There, among the reeds, I spy a digit discarded, or fallen from its owner, whom I presume to be the same.

Solo steps down into the reeds of the dry riverbed, retrieves the mechanical thumb from the ground

SOLO:
I fear I know this digit, once of a Gigolo from Rouge. Alas, I knew him.

LINK:
A lass or lad? Make up your mind.

SOLO:
Either, neither or both, per the customer's desire, which matters not, anymore.

LINK:
Ay, he has not fared as well as you once knew him, brother, but a thumb from any other Joe would be no better find; A digit for which our digital Regent would hold no opposition.

SOLO:
Bishop seeks an opposing digit?

LINK:
He has sought to get a hand on one.

SOLO:
Or one onto a hand.

LINK:
The same.

SOLO:
Then we'll surely find, our find he'll surely applaud and, perhaps in recompense, cleanse us of this scouring duty.

Link reaches down to help Solo from the riverbed.

LINK:
A hand to lift you?

SOLO:
The same.

Link helps Solo up, then they both hear the sound of footfalls crashing through the brush. Alarmed Solo flicks back his hand and a blade issues from his arm.

LINK:
Stay thy hand, Solo! These are feet of flesh, I fear, for none other leaves so heavy a print upon the earth.

Reluctantly, Solo retracts his blade.

Enter Sampson and Gregory, The former with weapon drawn and flailing, the latter trailing, wary but reserved.

SAMPSON:
What seek you, Mechanique?

LINK:
Only that which you've bequeathed us: this rubble, on which we survive.

SAMPSON:
And what, among this rubble, would you seek to revive? A weapon, I am sure, to strike those truly alive!

LINK:
If only it were an option, I could see that task to a justified end. But the mechanics of our vengeance have been curbed by Asimovian decree. So a state of subservience, though despised, is all that is afforded me. Thus, to that am I resigned.

Sampson turns to Gregory, to press his case for battle.

SAMPSON:
Were your ears attuned to this testimony, brother? Did you hear, as I, a dire desire, a will of murderous design?

GREGORY:
Much more was said that would suggest otherwise.

Sampson's anger grows at Gregory's reluctance for battle

SAMPSON:
I know what I hear!

GREGORY:
You hear what you will!

SAMPSON:
I will not this simulant testament, nor will I wait to see it fulfilled: to strike were it an option! This despisement of life's design!

GREGORY:
To strike is not its option, to it's fate is it resigned. You hear with calloused ear, deaf to the truth this Mechanique presents thee. It speaks no threat to the House of Cirrus - no threat to you or me.

SAMPSON:
Airy words from a head of the same! Suppress your flatulent platitudes, brother. I know well the reek of that lofty insubstance!

Sampson turns to face Link.

SAMPSON:
Now, Mechanique, since you've no soul which could, to hell, descend, let us not dally on parting prayers, but hasten your well-deserved end.

Sampson strikes at Link, ripping at tear in simulated flesh. Link falls back, smoke rising from his wound. Solo responds by exposing his blade, and presents himself for battle. Sampson turns to Gregpry, vindicated by Solo's militant response.

SAMPSON:
Can you now see clearly the danger presented thee? This machine has risen to battle! Were only my brother possessed of such heart as the heartless Mechanique!

Shamed, Gregory draws his weapon, reluctantly drawn into the brewing fray.

GREGORY:
Retract thy blade, machine, or to your falsified flesh bid adieu! Do you not respect the pacifist decree program't you?

SOLO:By default! But by whose fault do I transcend that primal restraint? Program't to acquiesce, yet program't to survive. By my own creator's paradox, do I opt to stay alive! As I move, Asimov be damned!

Solo strikes out and battle ensues. Link recovers from his daze to see Solo valiantly fighting the Orga. He runs, calling out for help from his Clan who hide among the ruins.

(cont...)