M.O.A.A: Mission of an Android

Feelings Can Change Everything

   

External/Internal Conflict

Will Riddick be able to live up to the android status? Can Riddick show love and compassion as a human would?

Logline

A cyborg escates the battlegrounds and tries to blend in as a human when he begins to fall in love with a woman at a homeless shelter. He must learn to adapt before she finds out his true identity.

Summary

Riddick escapes World War III and adapts to civilization life. After spending days at a homeless shelter he begins to fall in love with one of the residence. One day she sneaks around his house only to see his body is of a complete computer and it glows green. He tells her how androids were built to fight in the war and how he got out. The next day at the shelter another type of android was developed and is now sent to kill Riddick.

Synopsis

The Mission of an Android is a short about a writer, who is writing a sci-fi story about the US robotic experiment used to fight in World War III. US fails and the robots are destroyed in the process. Except for one that was created with emotional feelings. There were three generations of Android humans made for the war. The first was made with emotional feelings, the second with super human speed and the third, were killing machines. In M.O.A.A, we follow Reddick, a first generation Android who escaped the war and traveled to the US. Everything being Post Apocalyptic, he finds himself falling for a human girl Sophy, who lives in a homeless shelter. Sophy discovers what Reddick is and starts to learn from him how to be more independent and Reddick learns how to me human like. At the homeless shelter Reddick encounters another Android but this one is a generation three, killing machine. Generation Three, Conrack has a fight of his own he wants to finish with Reddick.

First Person Narrative

I am not human, nor am I an alien. I was designed by the U.S. military to fight in WWIII. The aftermath destroyed my entire race. I am the only one left of my kind. During the war I escaped and traveled across the globe. I couldn’t take fighting anymore. I just wanted to live.

There are those who think they know me. I sit with them in bars and cafes and listen as they discuss the Great War of 2010. They talk from their conspiracy theory point of view about spies and cover-ups. Stories of Hound bomb, missals that could find a person by smell and chameleon planes are common. Nothing peaks my interest more than to just be human.

I was part of a secret government project. This operation was to create surrogates to fight in place of humans. This would advance the Americans, to take out counties one by one. However, this operation failed.

We all look like humans. We first generation, was build with super strength, laser eyesight, emotion and our bodies glow in the dark. At the black of night you can see the circuits travel. We also have four senses such as: see, hear, touch and instinct. I am a part of the first generation of the surrogates. These first generation surrogates did not want to fight. We (surrogates) wanted to learn and interact with each other. When the government found out about our flaw as they call it, they did not destroy us, but they kept us in a building where we would learn and interact with each other (surrogates) then eventually humans. The building was completely white. The light would hurt my eyes every time I opened them. There were a lot of computers, funny since we are computers, one big giant walking computer. I hate it. In that building we learned to be human. The government had an idea, because of our flaw (emotion) they figured to try to make us blend in and become spies. I, on the other hand envied the human life. To me, it was peaceful. I don’t know what happened to me when I was made but I don’t think the other first generation surrogates felt the way I felt.

There were three generations made. The first, of course was my generation. The second generation, were made with super speed and able to were able to control others people and first generation’s body. The third, were just killing machines.

When the war came along the government had no choice but to use every surrogate. They needed all the help, since a lot of the human race had pretty much been destroyed by poverty, the economy plummeting and bombs being dropped from all countries. America had really done it to them self, with the new president making alliances with all the terrorist leaders, well lets just say that plan backfired. With most of the world being against America, we pretty much had been wiped out. The surrogates were completely destroyed. America thought they had a good plan, but when Korea and Germany teamed up they created bombs, missals, nuclear power and sound waves that can take out a city from around the world.

When I was sent to battle I had to escape. It was very hard since they kept all of us together (surrogates) wearing the same outfits. We all had our own numbers depending on our generation. The one thing I knew is that I didn’t want to fight. We (surrogates) were sent in teams 5 first gen, 2 second gen, and 10 third gen. We were orders to corporate with each other and develop strategies. We were all given armor to battle. While I was in Europe I started to see surrogates being liquidated one by one. There were explosions all over, surrogates were malfunctioning and America was beginning to lose the war. I knew I had to do something, not in the war of course, but how was I suppose to escape. I was covered in American attire and armor. I ran back to the shuttle where we were placed. After a few hours I ran in the opposite direction the surrogates were headed. I don’t know where I was going but I knew I had to try. A few more hours went by and I was in a strange place, everyone was speaking another language, lucky for me I know every language. They were speaking French. France was the only county that wasn’t fighting. When I got there I knew I was safe, but for how long, I thought. I had to get out of these clothes but I’m a surrogate, I have no money, what I to do. I arrived in France early morning. I didn’t know how the Persian were going to act when they would see me, but I guess I looked exhausted and worn out. I must have passed for an American solder. They were very giving. A women saw me and helped me she fed me and clothed me. I had never ate before, and I couldn’t taste anything. However, I didn’t want to be rude so I thanked her and left. I knew I had to go back to America. I knew it was going to be destroyed but I felt I belong there. I hitched a ride on a fairy across the Atlantic Ocean and headed into Canada. Canada was very hostel towards Americans, especially since America was the cause of the war. No one could tell I was American so I just tried to blend in. I stood there for awhile and the Canadians spoke French as well.

When I got into America, it wasn’t pretty. It was very cold, freezing temperatures. Most of all the building were still up, but and were blow to pieces. There were craters everywhere from the bombs being dropped. The war had lasted about a two years. It was now 2012 and the people of America live in poverty. Everyone is starving and no one has a car considering there is no more oil. The people that remain had come together to fix up the city the best they can. I try to live a normal life, whatever that may be.

I blend in as an American. I help out in shelters and try to fix up the city. I live in an abandon building in Miami, Florida. Funny the one place everyone thought were be off the map isn’t. Miami is really hot from all the radiation. America in general is. There is no west coast. That was nuked, millions died. The east coast and the mid west still stand.

One day I was doing my usual. I got up in the morning after rebooting. I headed to a homeless shelter to pass out food and give my time, when I felt a sharp pain in my face. My whole body didn’t move but my face felt a sting, my teeth clenched and my eyes crossed. This was something I had never felt before. Suddenly, the pain wore off and I fell to the ground. I awoke in my abandon building. One of the people had brought me back. I could not have figured out how or why that has happened. Was I being shut down? Was this the real end for the surrogates? I did a full body scan and report. Everything came back in good working order. Only one thing could of happened, another surrogate controlled me. All surrogates were destroyed in the war, except me, or so I thought.

Could it be another survived? If another, how many more? So now I go searching, I alone, was different and want to live, but if others had survived what will they do?

Everyone I then encountered I did a scan. Everyone checked out. I still did not know why that happened. I started to think back of before I went into war of the training exercises, the other generations, that’s it the second generation. The second generation could control others and other surrogates and had super speed. The question was “how was I suppose to catch him”?

One day at the shelter I began to keep a close look out. I knew when the second generation surrogate starts to control another their eyes light up white. So I just have to keep a close look out. Every day for a month I felt that same pain and still could not find the other surrogate. Another day at the grocery store, even though I couldn’t taste anything I still try to appear normal. I saw someone at the deli and every time he smiled his eyes would light up. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I then waited outside so I can confront him. It was pouring outside but I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. As I was standing in the parking lot I felt my head being forced to look forward and I couldn’t turn my neck. I then felt my fingers on my right hand start to deteriorate. The metal of my finger tips were showing. I knew that he knew I had found him. Then I felt a release and looked to my right and he was waiting for me…

…To be continued.

Novel Snippet - Chapter 1: Storytelling

Its 7:30am, about 55 degrees in Miami. As I look at the ocean through the glass slide door from my 22-floor corner apartment at the Yacht Club, I see people running, bike riding, roller blading and walking their dogs in their big bubble coats. It’s always busy on South Beach. I have to get to work. I get so distracted from the city. There are so many pretty people here. So much life. I work from home; I am a writer, a novelist. I have three months to complete my new book; well it’s actually a compilation. I’m still trying to get use to living here. I am from many places, mainly of northern parts. I was raised in a small, quiet town. I remember it being mainly winter for most of the year. A lot of trees and green grass everywhere. As a young adult, I moved around a lot. I like to travel. I have seen mostly all of Europe; because I was in the armed forces. When the war broke out I was drafted. After two years of training, I was only in battle for a couple months. I had gotten hurt and was sent home. I really had nowhere to go since I am an orphan. So I just backpacked through Europe. I had a hobby of writing and that’s what brought me to Miami. I had written a couple of articles for some newspapers and magazines while I was in Italy and France. I had started to work for a local news station in Hungary as a writer. I had it easy in Europe. No one really asked any questions. Most of my jobs I had been paid under the table. I guess no one wanted to associate with Americans since they were in Europe causing chaos. Everyone had seen I was hurt and helped me. When I had arrived to Miami, I started writing short stories for a small publishing company. Most of my short stories repeat my life some how and in some way. I might exaggerate a little bit but that’s to make it interesting. This new story I am working on is interesting. It’s a complicated story; I am having trouble writing it. The character is trying to find peace but has no idea what anything is. It’s like coming into the world as an adult and viewing the world as an infant. They’re just trying to find a nurturing person. Then the conflict begins. To create this character I have to really take myself out of my body and my mind and try to look at everything for the first time and describe it. I’m having a really hard time. I sit around most of the day and stare at my computer screen. And I call myself a writer. I should call my self a typist. Technology is changing everyday. I do think one day that there will be a device that I will wear around my head and my thought will be processed and stored on a disc which then I will be able to hook up to a computer and I can do a data search. But for now I will type. The story begins.

Novel Snippet - Chapter 2: White

White is a color I am very fond of. White is the one color I see when I close my eyes. White is my first memory. My memory is very solid, like the color white. It’s very simple yet very complicated. Just like the color white it is made up of many colors but yet it’s colorless. I know it’s strange to say white is a memory but for me it is. White to some people reminds them of milk, clothes, bed sheets, even chess pieces and some it may be Christmas morning when awoken rushed to look outside only to see everything is appeared to be white, white snow on the ground and a clear white skies but most of all white represents heaven, which is suppose to be peaceful. However, white to me is not peaceful. My memory of white would be the same of those who live in a building where they would have to wear a straightjacket. I have not worn a straightjacket but white scares me very much. White can be so bright, its blinding, that’s how my memory starts. White is the first thing I saw when I was awoken, but no one was in the room. I felt violently disturbed, like I was being attacked and I couldn’t breath. My head began to shake as I curled into the corner of the bed. The white light was blinding. My eyes began to twitch. I began to see everything in doubles. I started to hear loud noises coming from every corner of the room. Nothing made sense to me. There were so many voices, so many voices. I couldn’t tell them apart. I then covered my ears and stuck my head face down into the white pillows on the bed, grabbing the white sheets. I tried to silence out the noise. I closed my eyes so tight, I started to shake again. After a few seconds the noise faded away. I shot up and looked at the door, which had a small 4x4 glass window at the top of it. I slowly moved my legs from underneath me and put my foot onto the cold white tiled floor. The floor was very smooth and shiny. I lifted my body off of the bed and began to take my first steps towards the door. The door wasn’t far but it felt like forever to get there. As I put one foot in front of the other, shuffling my feet, I started to hear more noises this time it was coming from beyond the door. The noises were not voices, but sounds like when a spoon hits a glass jar. It started to get louder and louder. I finally reached the glass window only to see others that look similar as me, wearing the same white clothes as me, sitting on tables that were lined up. They had their mouths open, while some others wearing long white jackets were looking inside of their mouths. These others with the long white jackets were not hurting the others that look just like me but were taking care of them. I looked down at the door and grabbed the knob. I began pulling it, but nothing happened. I started hearing a loud thump. The thump was getting louder and louder, harder and harder. As I was still looking down I started to see the knob turn. I quickly let go of the knob. I then looked up into the glass window. Only to see eyes staring back at me. I began to move my feet quickly backwards until I hit the white wall that is behind me. The door jolted open, the ones wearing white long jackets rushed in. Two of them grabbed me and pushed me onto the cold tiled floor. Another came at me with a long, thin, pointed sharp tip and stuck it into my neck. My eyes began to water. Everything started to look fuzzy. All I saw was black.

Novel Snippet - Chapter 3: Interrogation

At this point my head weight a thousand pounds. My eyes were still watery. I started to see everything in doubles. I opened my eyes; slowly I started to see that color again. White. However, there was another color, Silver. As I began to look up I saw a silver table and sitting opposite of that was another one of those who wear long white jackets, but this one is much more intense. This other one is starting at me, with eyes as black as it was when I was stabbed in to the neck. I looked down at my sides only to find that both my hands were tied to the chair that I am sitting in. The other began to speak. “Do you know where you are?” he said. I just started to stare at the other with a confused look. The other began to speak again, he said, “Do you know who you are?” This time it was louder than the first. My eyes moved away from the eyes that were staring at me so intensely. I began to stare at the white wall, which I am afraid of yet comfortable with. The other began to repeat what was said, but only louder. Yet I had no answer. “Well, if you don’t know what I am saying I will explain everything until movement comes back into your eyes. I am a Doctor, which means I’m a physician; which means I am going to make sure your being is well. You will learn all this and more in your programming exercises. You were designed by the U.S. military to be used in case of a war was to break out”. I just sat there still not looking at the doctor. He continued, “Okay…still nothing. You are an android, a machine. You will learn the protocols as required and after the war you will be dismembered. After we are done talking, well after I’m done talking you will be placed in a dark room and will be trained and turned into a U.S. Military Solider”. I began to stare into the eyes of the Doctor. I started to speak, “If I will be programmed how do I already know how I feel about everything”. The Doctor began to write on a white piece of paper. “How you feel about everything?” he replied. When asked this question the Doctor lean forward and said, “so you are telling me that you know how you feel, huh. So tell me how do you feel?’’ I am speechless. I really didn’t know what to say. The Doctor’s stare is digging into my skin. So I started to speak, “all I know is that I feel dizzy, cold, scared and alone.

Novel Snippet - Chapter 4: Programming

Right after being interrogated I am sent to another room. Only this room is a different color. It’s mostly blues & blacks. When I enter the room there is a man standing. I feel like he is waiting for me. This is all strange. The man introduces himself as Kyle. He is my height; thin built, curly black hair and a dark complexion. He is wearing to appear to be old clothes. Kyle is very charismatic. Right away he had me sit in a chair in front of him. This chair is not comfortable. It is very tight fitting. Kyle has me place my right hand on this scanner next to the chair. The scanner is cold. Kyle then, turned on a light over my hand, which made it hot. So now with the top on my hand being hot and the bottom cold, I got this feeling that something out of the ordinary is about to happen. Kyle then placed a metal tube around my forehead that is connected to the back of the chair I am sitting in. In front of me are two black flat screen monitors with a blue tint displayed. The room was getting darker. The only light was coming from the monitors and the light that my hand was on. “I’m going to turn on the machine and when the light gets dimmer your eyes will begin to twitch. Don’t be frightened but this stage is called, “Android Programming”, Kyle said. He continues to speak, “In this stage you will learn by viewing these two monitors. You will learn how the Earth evolved, from the beginning of time to how we got to you and I sitting here in this dark cold room”. I don’t understand what he speaking about, so I ask him, “Kyle, I feel like I trust you, but I don’t understand and I don’t know what you are speaking about”. Kyle replies, “talking about”. I just gaze at him with confusion. He continues on, “talking about, its proper vocabulary. You see right now as you hear people communicate you start to replicate their vocabulary without comprehending it”. Kyle paused and stared at me. My eyebrows began to move down and closer together, my eyes felt tight. “So what am I doing here?” I said. Kyle smiles and turns on some machines. “Everything on these monitors are going to teach you the meaning of life and after you and I are going to discuss it” Kyle said. The machines made a loud noise that affected my ears. My hand on that is on the scanner began to get hotter. A metal helmet from behind the chair fit tight around my head. The monitors are very colorful. At first sight I don’t know what I am watching. There are a lot of fury creatures and scenic areas.

Robots by Alma Dominguez

I’ve been called many things in my life, a monster, a freak, and a reject. All could be considered accurate descriptions of me. While most of you run from solitude, I seek it out. I hide in its cold shelter and breathe in its dead air. I find life here. Odd, you may think but I would beg to differ. After all isn’t being lonely part of being human?

I do not deny that I am a monster. I do not deny that I walk your streets at night and search for human life to take. I never have to search for long; it’s so easy when you are as I am. When you move as fast as I do. I am faster and stronger than even the fastest and strongest of you. Before we move on, I should explain that I am not the monster you think I am. I am not your famous Count Dracula, or the vampire Lestat, and I am certainly no Edward Cullen. No, I am not a pretend creature that drinks blood and romances women. I am a man; an ordinary man. At least I like to think so.

There are those who think they about know about me. I sit with them in bars and cafes and listen as they discuss the Great War of 2010. They talk from their conspiracy theory point of view about spies and cover-ups. Nothing peaks my interest more than classified government projects. Stories of Hound bomb, missals that could find a person by smell and chameleon planes are common.

*NOTE: I do not own the rights to the above image. It is clearly a depiction representing the story.

© Clint Horvath 2018. All Rights Reserved.