Thursday, April 2, 2015

Mark Ethridge Week 144: If It’s Just A Dream, Let Me Dream (Part 6)

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Mark Ethridge’s Picture Choice: Two

Title: If It’s Just A Dream, Let Me Dream (Part 6)

The dogs arrived, right on schedule. I made sure to stay in the middle of the street, with my hands raised. Hell, I even sat down, the idea being give them no reason to shoot. I wanted them to approach me. “Hey! I’m giving up here!”

I monitored their approach and when thoroughly surrounded triggered the nanocloud. Totally invisible, microscopic machines filled the air for a hundred feet in all directions. A good ten of the dogs were inside the cloud. The machines easily passed through their air filters, into their lungs and their bloodstreams. The machines acted.

They turned off the nanomachines the Christians had filled the dogs with. Machines that kept the dogs behaving as required. I watched, “Let me know if you have any questions.”

The dogs near me sat down, looking terribly confused. Dogs, being curious by nature, and not always being cautious, meant more of them approached. And they wound up sitting down too.

The dog closest to me whined, and spoke, “What happened?”

“Ask the church.” I held out my hand, “Now that I’ve turned off their controls and you can make your own choices.”

He growled. The other seated dogs growled. They drew their weapons, and scattered. Within seconds, I heard weapons firing, and humans screaming, and dogs howling, growling, and barking.

See, the dogs know the Church uses them as cannon fodder. And when something, or someone, comes along and breaks the control of the Church, and it’s nanotech, the dogs struck back. Did they ever.

Yeah. Some of my humans were injured. Some died. Welcome to war. It isn’t pretty. It’s never been pretty. It never will be. But sometimes, war is necessary. Sometimes it lasts, like it has a life of its own.

With the dogs going crazy, spreading the nanomachines among themselves, increasing their vengeful number by the minute, I was free to move. I stopped at the doors of each retail location, and dropped a small package. I had hundreds of them in the armor. I headed toward the center of the city, leaving a trail of packages in doorways, retail establishments, city services, everywhere but private residences.

I’d have to leave from the opposite side of the city. I couldn’t go back the way I’d come. The Christians would be there, in force. Fully armed, fully armored, and killing everything. They didn’t like it when you blew things up in their city. When you set the dogs free. They got pissed.

I listened as things blew up, literally blew up, along the south edge of the city. That would be Blue and her people. That was my signal. I triggered the packages. They went off, randomly. Explosives engineered at the atomic level. How to get the most bang for the buck. The Christians had developed the technology. We just borrowed it. And improved it.

The suit told me where my wife was. I headed there in a straight line. Through buildings, houses, whatever was in the way. They’d hidden her well, in the slums. Blue and her people caught up to me, and we stormed into the slums, toward a blue shack.

“You’re people never expect us to attack, do they?”

“No, Blue. It’s part of their arrogance, and pride.”

She laughed, “Their belief they are the children of God?”

I laughed, “And he will protect them.”

“We will stand guard outside while you rescue her.” Blue and her people split up and commenced causing havoc wherever they went. Much to my amusement, the dogs joined them.

Dogs and revenge. Who knew?

“The slums? Perfect hiding place.” It was time to free my wife, and repair the neural damage Gods people would have done to her.

Yeah. Just like the dogs, it was time for revenge. Unlike my fellow humans, I had no intention of asking for God’s guidance, or forgiveness. I’d have to kill again. How could anyone forgive that?

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Mark woke up in 2010, and has been exploring life since then. All his doctors agree. He needs to write.

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