Jump to content
Attention, CICADA community!
  • It’s time to say goodbye—the community at cicadamag.com is now closed. Learn more...
Sign in to follow this  

The Greater Good (Pt. 2)

Recommended Posts

"Hi,” says the human. “My name’s Joey!”

Is he, is he… talking to me?

The human whose name is apparently Joey is scarily petite yet intimidating. He has brilliant blue hair and curious, matching ice blue eyes. His outfit consists of a plain, white shirt and a pair of gray, baggy sweatpants. He also has a brilliant blue scarf wrapped around his neck that blows every so slightly in the small breeze coming through the window. On his hand, sleek black fingerless leather gloves wrap around his palm and back of his hand. To top it all of, he has a pair of goggles over his eyes.

"Hi!” spoke up #023.

I almost forgot he was there.

"What’s your name?” asks Joey.

"#023,” replies #023.

The squirrel that is clamped in Joey’s gloved hands starts squirming. It is obviously uncomfortable in the clutches of a human. Joey notices this.

"Simmer down, Carl,” he says, looking down at the squirrel.

He turns back to us and says, “He doesn’t really seem to like me. Do you guys want him?”

#023 shakes his head no, but I have different plans. I have never had a pet before, although I have always wanted one. I’ve always needed and wanted the special company that only your own special animal can provide. So, that’s why I nod my head.

"Hmm,” Joey says. “Do you have a safe place to put him?”

I nod and open up my stomach. It’s the perfect size for a squirrel to stay in. Plenty of room and great indoor heating.

"Carl’s gonna love you!” exclaims Joey, very happily.

Continuing #023 and Joey’s conversation, Joey turns back to #023.

"Why is your name a number?” inquires Joey.

"I’m not too sure why,” answers #023.

"Well, I’ll call you…” ponders Joey. “Luke! That’s perfect!”

"And you,” he says turning to me. “Do you have a name?”

He was staring at me. Why was he staring at me?

"Oh, don’t mind him. He doesn’t talk much,” says Luke, giving Joey a wink.

"Aww,” whines Joey.

I open my mouth to finally talk, but all that comes out is, “#049.”

"Oh, so your name is #049?” asks Joey. “That’s no good! We’ll change your name to... Royland!”

"I-I… like that name,” I stammer.

For as long as I remember, I’ve been called #049 and #049 only. So, being given a name and all, it kind of felt really good. I peer down at my number and all of sudden get really angered.

"Yay!” Joey exclaims. “We’re all friends now!”

Hearing Joey so happy wipes away the anger in an instant.

Keep it down,” I say. Robots were starting to glance in our general direction. “Let’s go somewhere private.”

We hop out the window onto the hot, dry sand. A small breeze picks up and I'm forced to pull out my scarf. I open up my stomach and pull out a faded crimson red scarf with yellow highlights. I wrap it around most of my face as to not get sand everywhere. Luckily, I have a spare, so I wrap one around Luke.

I have never been outside before. Only seen it. Our whole facility is wrapped in a blanket of chain link fences. Most of it is hidden underneath endless heaps of sand. A few electrical huts stand their ground in the ever-blowing wind. I turn back to Joey.

"First things first,” I say. “How’d you get here?”

Joey stands in silence and tilts his head to one side, as if signaling he doesn’t understand.

I turn to Luke.

"He can understand me, right?” I ask him.

"Yes, I’m pretty sure,” Luke answers. The way his eyes are half closed makes me wonder if he isn’t very sure. I decide to repeat my question to Joey.

"How. Did. You. Get. Here,” I say, one by one.

I don’t know what I said differently, but it obviously gets across to Joey, as he tilted his head back to normal, turned around in one single movement and rapidly raised his hand. He then proceeds to point at the chain link fence. I look at the fence for a second and wonder why he’s pointing at it.

"I don’t get it,” I say to Joey. He couldn’t have climbed it, as it has barbed wire on top.

Joey gets it, however. He walks over to the fence and stands there scratching his chin as if he was digging through his vast memory to try to remember something. He walks over to one random spot on the fence and starts digging.

"Why are you digging?” I ask him. He doesn’t respond, he just keeps digging.

"Maybe we should help,” suggests Luke. He gets down on his knees and helps Joey dig. Not having anything better to do, I do the same. Eventually, we uncover something I would have never guessed. There was a hole in the fence.






Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
Sign in to follow this