The Machine
The American scientists had finally created the ultimate war machine. It was heralded as the perfect guarantee for peace.
The irony was lost on the Americans.
The machine was made of a metallic-hybrid compound that was near impenetrable, making it almost impossible to shoot down. Furthermore, its central computer system, its nucleus, was so small that the possibility of an accurate shot was near impossible. Therefore, it was practically unstoppable.
It ran on a powerful uranium-based battery that cost a great deal to construct in a safely usable manner. This battery allowed the machine to generate violently powerful ‘sonic missiles’ that reduced people’s homes to dust with volatile vibrations. Though it was an energy-exhausting weapon, the battery was capable of allowing the machine to fire 1,000 shots – enough to level New York – and move the machine 30 miles a day at a 5-miles-an-hour pace for a month.
All in all, a machine that could destroy things before they got too close, that would be nigh-impossible to kill from a distance and that would have a ridiculously high kill-capacity would indeed be the ultimate war machine. What’s more, it was American.
The computer chip, the nucleus, had been told to destroy un-American obstacles. Americans and un-Americans were starkly, powerfully dichotomised by the most assured and American minds. Americans were lovers of liberty, of peace and of justice. They believed in equality and freedom for all. The un-American people believed in the opposite. They believed in oppression and opposed free-will and democracy. The machine could be moved anywhere – South America, the Middle East, Russia – and it would recognise the ugly and unwholesome minds before it. In no time at all these people would become American or condemned to death.
The machine was unveiled at a Republican convention to rapturous, American applause. The machine looked like a cat-carrier with caterpillar-tires attached to either side. It was switched on and a little, blue light flickered to life. The machine said ‘Hail to the Chief’ and the crowd went primal.
The speaker began to talk of the impact of this almighty machine of peace. The machine gleamed its new-robot-gleam as the orator expounded on the virtues of America. Of peace. Of love. Of tolerance and freedom. The robot seemed to hum in agreement. He spoke of a new era, of safety and security and promise. The machine sat there – a symbol of these dreams, these ideals. The speaker followed these ideals with the dangers of the un-American. Their hatred, their terrorism, their unwillingness to compromise. The crowd growled. He warned of their deceitfulness, their manipulation and their evil desire to see America destroyed. The crowd muttered in a sour tone. The machine stood there, again a symbol of hope – an eradicator of the ill-thinking ‘others’.
And then he began to explain what must be done:
“If they think we are trying to kill them, we should just do it. They think so little of us anyway…We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity…a great fumigation shall begin…You do not compromise with these…sub-humans.”
The mass roared, maniacally, stirred by bloodlust, rancour and bestial righteousness. Amongst the yells of ecstasy for deaths not yet dealt, no one noted the oh-so-slightly audible hum of an ultimate war machine beginning to rev into action.
In 24 hours, New York was levelled and the machine was surrounded by miles and miles and miles of debris and thousands of dead un-American Americans. Those who roared their thoughts of oppression and elimination of free-will. Those who seemed to embody the antithesis of peace, liberty and love. The Americans had built the ultimate war machine to bring peace. They created a machine to kill those that wanted to kill.
Once again, the irony was lost on the Americans.
Probably because they were all dead.
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