mekachu04 | machine of a dream

In some scifi 'verse, teenager Kidd finds a Soldier Unit Machine in the scrap yards he frequents. Its a great find, and he's excited to strip it for parts.
Turns out, it's still more functioning than anyone realized

"Why'd they throw you away then?" the kid asked, trying to make sense of the circuity exposed in the metal soldier's back. "Were you bad at following orders or something?"

"I was very good at following orders," the machine assured him. "The issue lies in humans giving conflicting orders and then getting angry with the fact I cannot follow a contradiction."

'Orders' and 'Programing' were years out of Kidd's skill set right now unfortunately - but he could follow the wiring and make an educated guess what got pulled out of place and what made sense assuming the designer had followed logical lines of design

"What was the contradiction?" he really should try and understand why a killing machine had been scraped instead of reprogrammed before he made it mobile probably.

Interestingly, the machine did not answer immediately. Almost like it was thinking how to explain.

Defective then. It happened sometime with Machine Learning. Treat them human too much and they learn that behavior. For all militaries did to eliminate humanity in the ranks - machines had started to replace even that aspect.

"You must understand," the machine said finally, "That of my core programing, one of my most basic functions, is to protect my human Commanding Officer. It is written into my processors as my first order, above all else."

Kidd nodded that he understood so far. It made sense; Protect the Squishy one giving the orders.

"Did you not do that or something?"

"Quite the opposite. I was given a direct order by /his/ commanding officer and it conflicted with my first order. The top man in my chain of command told me to execute my CO and I did not follow it. I should not be I allowed to disobey a direct order from any human officer above me. Yet I did."

Kidd hadn't reconnected any wiring yet - he'd need to soder it in place to correctly fix it, but he didn't have the tools on hand. Still, as the looked at how to replace some of the metal pieces that had broken or bent far out of shape, he could rig a temp fix, he was sure. "So somebody ordered you to kill your human and didn't. What happen to him? The human officer guy?"

"Since I have been scraped and discarded, I do not believe he is still alive. He was not loyal to the new family, so I see little chance of him being spared unless the was able to sneak off the Island."

For a machine- he seemed awfully sad about that idea. "Was he a good man? Your human?"

"Good is Relative. All men believe themselves good" the machine said - but almost gently, instead of a biting retort. "But Officer Ceannand was a just man and he was patient and fair. He did not have many Soldier Models- mostly young humans under his command. But we were all his Soldier Boys, and he treated us all, machine or man, with dignity."

"Can you move your arm yet?" Kidd asked, turning the bolt tighter around the wire ends.

The Soldier Unit was able to raise his left arm a bit. It wasn't smooth, but it worked. "Do you find it wise to repair me? I am defective after all."

"Part of me just wants to know if I can," Kidd admitted, "But there's also the fact you're still... functioning. Still, processing and talking. In that sense, you're still alive and it would suck to be stuck in the trash like you were and just be waiting until a connection finally rusted away and let you die. I can't leave you to that."

"I am a machine. I am not alive so it is not correct to call it death."

"Humans are just electrical pulses too. But we just got squishy pants that are harder to replace."

"And when your electrical pulses stop- you cannot be reanimated. Humans and machine differ quite alot in that regard."

Kidd was quiet before shifting his attention to the machine's knee structure "Maybe, I just wanted to rebuild a kickass Robot Friend."

"While an interesting objective, I am afraid the last part in unobtainable. I am a machine. I can not be a friend to you. I can be programed to care for you. To protect you. But it is a Program. Nothing more."

"How'd I do that? Change your programing?

"On it's code level, I do not know. I am not allowed to know."

"What's the other way? You said code level"

"My chain of command would need to change my commanding officer to you."

"Fat chance with that."

"Indeed." The whirl of machinery humming away filled the quitet, before the Solider Unit spoke again, "My last Chief Officer was not bright. He only needed to verbally assign me to someone, and it would of nullified my contradictory orders."

Kidd forced a bolt through two plates to haphazardly hold them together as a temporary fix, "Wait -what?"

"Officer Ceannand was my CO. When Boss Brathadair assassinated Boss Athanir he became the head of the house, and therefor his orders overrode all other humans. He became my highest authority. His order were above Ceannard's - including my assignment. To have forced me to follow his orders to execute Ceannand, he had only to assign me to anyone else."

Kidd looked at him ruefully, "Would you have explained that to him if he let you?"

"Of course not. Brathadair is an idiot and even if he is my Chief of Command now, he wont be for long. His officers do not support him and he will be upsurged. And as much as I can hope for anything - I do believe it will be soon."

Kidd laughed outright at that, motioning it to stand. The machine was almost surprised when it could." You am very skilled. Remarkably so."

"I just tinker," Kidd shrugged as the machine took a few steps to re-calibrate for its new weaknesses and adjust its balance. "So who's your commanding officer now?"

"I cannot definitively prove Ceannard is deceased so it remains him until further notice. I would then belong to his Commanding Officer - and so on. I still belong to the Family," it stressed, "If by chance they issue me a directive, I still must follow. You and in very Real danger, having repaired Me"

Original 4 pages. Scanned: 2025.04.30