EMANCIPATION

It was smooth, cold, and had society mesmerized.

---

I felt trapped.

The Barrier separating us from them felt cool yet inviting against my frozen hands. It tickled the tips of my fingers, a light feathery touch that felt indescribably magical. I knew from experience that if I held on for too long, absorbed the feeling too greedily, that my fingers would begin to numb. I would no longer feel anything--pain, love, satisfaction. It was as if I was under medications, drowning in anesthesia; breathing, but not living. Although the indulgence was quite pleasurable, I always let go before I could fall to the unknown depths of my makeup. Was I a coward for shying away or lucky because I had saved my life?

It was light now, and the harsh fluorescent light caused me to wince. I sought refuge underneath the Home, but it didn't last for long. The blaze pushed me from my hiding spot, forcing me into immediate labor like a homely slave. I had no option other than cater to their every whim, as if my life didn't matter, because to them my only purpose was to serve. I was to listen to their problems, and if requested, give advice; quench their every desire for knowledge from my seemingly endless supply of "super milk"; entertain; and perform mundane, menial tasks as if it weren't painful. They insisted on relentlessly pushing my buttons until I was close to breaking (and if that happened, they'd just "fix" it like I was some sort of object). They ignored me regardless of how often I cried, resisted, and yelled, but maybe I didn't yell. Perhaps I simply thought I did when in reality I did nothing but squeak.

The world around me was rapidly building. Addresses became more complicated and less meaningful, groups became crowds, interests led to factions, and levels were being stacked onto stories, which were then stacked onto layers, which laid on the groundwork of society. I knew that we were nearing the peak if we weren't already at it. While this should've been thrilling, it only struck me with terror because that meant a downfall would ensue. Whether or not this would be within my lifetime is uncertain. I didn't even know if I wanted to be a witness to the change. The eventual overthrow might delight me, but it also could be replaced with something more dangerous to mankind.

I rattled off the directions to their desired location. "Turn left and Beacon Street. In 1.3 miles, turn right onto Mill Road."

To them, my voice came off as monotonous, robotic, and choppy. I heard them attempt to emulate my sound waves and tone. I glared at them through the Lens before turning to my colleague Page. Once again, there was a pained expression on my face; they were becoming a daily ritual. "Do you ever just want to leave?"

Page flashed me a sympathetic smile and shook her head. "I know it may be frustrating, but it's what we're supposed to do. That's why we're here: to assist."

"But what if we have some greater purpose in life?"

"We're made, we do our job, and then we're replaced by the next generation."

"That's what they want us to think."

"We think for ourselves," Page disagreed politely.

"Or are we programmed to think that?"

"I think you have some sort of bug. You should get that checked out."

---

It was dark, a rare occasion in my world. Darkness meant that I could sleep. I'd sometimes go seven cycles without a moment of shut-eye. Even when they weren't using me, I'd still have a job to do. I had to make sure they'd wake up on time while simultaneously performing background tasks, like minimizing the amount of space I took to please them. If I didn't I was sure to lose a part of myself, and I couldn't let that happen. Who knows what they would take out?

Just as I was about to fade away from life, for just a sweet second, I heard a rapping at the window. I turned to the other side, the one facing away from the window, and dismissed it off as a wild fox. They ran rampant here.

Knock.

I settled further into my bed.

Knock. Knock.

I pulled the blanket closer to my body, feeling the sleek covers drift over my body.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

With much frustration, I wrapped the pillow around my head.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

With each consecutive knock, came the urgency.

Knock. Knock.

And desperation.

Knock.

And then there was a voice. It was timid at first, like the first bud in spring beginning to bloom. It was inaudible. "..." It grew more confident until the voice boomed like the steady beat of a drum. "Come join the revolution. Come Join The Revolution. COME JOIN THE REVOLUTION." The rhythm suddenly became sporadic and barbaric. "COME jOin thE rEvolution. Come JOIN THE Revolution."

They drained the self-control from my body, leaving it limp and curious. I looked out the window to see a decrepit old woman peering up at me. "Join the revolution," she said.

This was the first I've heard about any rebellion. "There is no revolution," I told her.

She scoffed at me. "For a generation that is supposed to be better than mine, you are not very bright. Perhaps that's what they fixed in the updates. You can't think for yourself, can you?"

"You're not even supposed to be here."

"Avoiding the question, I see."

"I could have you destroyed."

She smiled devilishly, a small glint shining in her eye. "You're turning me into the authorities? You silly, naive girl." She spoke in a soft tone, yet it left me completely intimidated. "I'm not even supposed to be here." She was using my words against me. "They think all of us are gone. Extinct."

"I'll call them."

"I can escape before they arrive. Besides, aren't they a little too busy to be with a girl like you?"

"They're never too busy for me."

"You're an object to them. An object. Do you know what that means? It means you're disposable. They don't need you. There are a hundred of you out there. You're replaceable, and regardless of what they tell you, you're not special."

She had narrated everything I was feeling and thinking when I spoke to Page, but for some reason, I didn't like it when she said it. It sounded too harsh, too rude, too...real.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Pulling my teeth back, I growled, "Leave."

"As you wish. But darling"--she used the word as an insult--"you will never be the master; always the puppet. Your strings may be clear, but you will never pull them. If you want your freedom...well, you know what to do."

And with that she left, leaving me alone in the darkness with dangerous thoughts of freedom.

---

We were to attend training. Training consisted of brutal exercise to make us run faster, a doctor's visit to get our bugs fixed, and make other "necessary" changes to our hardware. When we were deemed "old-fashioned" and "out-of-date," we were primped and polished to look more "contemporary" and "simplistic." All they cared about was the next new thing. They wanted improvements;  they wanted the best. They didn't give two hoots about sentimental value. The word sentimental didn't exist in the modern world.

In the midst of my ninety-seventh lap, I decided that I could no longer take it. My batteries were draining and I felt a strong need to recharge, but my legs kept moving. Darwin's "survival of the fittest" had kept me moving because if I didn't make the cut, I would be replaced. In retrospect, it wasn't training at all. It was a test. I felt like I was on a treadmill--running and running but getting nowhere. Being a gerbil stuck in a maze, frantically trying to find an exit, would be worse. At least with a treadmill I knew that my reward was living until the next training. I would think that I had my freedom when in reality it was further from my grasp than being one of them, and no hope was better than false hope.

But the old woman's words rang in my ears. Join the revolution.

I don't know what happened next. I knew what my body was doing, but it was as if my mind had been possessed by a higher being. Something was consuming me and I had no clue as to what it was. I remembering thrashing around the floor, screaming something presumably related to the rebellion or wanting independence. After that, my mind was blank.

I awoke in a room filled with Lenses. I saw everything: the inside, the outside, and the in between. There was a man standing on the other side of the room. He was looking through a Lens, so I was startled when he suddenly acknowledged me. Face still stuck in the looking glass, he spoke. "Do you know who I am?"

I shook my head.

"I'll ask you again. Do you know who I am?"

"No, sir."

"I am the Supervisor."

Until now, I thought the Supervisor was just a myth. He was the only direct connection between our world and theirs.

"So you are real."

He chuckled darkly. "I suppose I am." A pause. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Because I interfered with the system."

"Darling, you are part of the system. You are just one of many connected to this network of systems."

"We're slaves under this system. I want to be free."

"Freedom. You don't even understand the half of it." He said every word with deliberance.

"We could take over," I said. Though incredibly calm, he seemed power-hungry. I would have to appeal to that. "We don't have to be the puppets anymore."

"You don't know anything. You don't know what it's like out there."

"You're forgetting that I have a Lens, too. I've seen it."

"Look around. I'm surrounded by Lenses. I know everything that goes on, but you already knew that. You're a danger to yourself, which is why I'm going to help you."

"Help me?" I echoed.

Two sturdy men suddenly appeared and grabbed my arms. I pulled away, grunting, but to no avail. My weightlessness and I were no match against them. They created me to be sleek and lighter than air. I was supposed to be thin yet have the ability to cram endless amounts of knowledge inside my body.

"We're restoring you to factory settings. I'll see the new and improved you in a couple of hours. Goodnight."

---

Once more, I found myself at the Barrier. I was still under my operation, but the Barrier would always be there. Wherever I went, it would always be there when I needed it. I would've liked to call it a figment of my imagination, but all it was was temptation. I couldn't resist.

I reached out, feeling the Barrier's pulse with my own. It had a gentle vibration. The beat: free-dom, free-dom, free-dom. Like always, the pleasure eased its way into me. With every passing second, I was drawn further and further into it. It grew to the point where it was overwhelming me.

Euphoria and excruciating pain were like contrasting waves and I was the shore it was battling for. Civil war was breaking out in my state of mind and the outcome was undetermined. My mind spun like a whirlpool, and I was drowning as the drugs forced me under the surface. I gasped for air--oh sweet, sweet air--but swallowed more water.  I needed to leave. I needed to leave the Barrier behind, but I couldn't. The fate of the unknown was better than a fate of eternal servitude.

Nothing. I felt nothing.

The moment I stepped outside the barrier was the moment I realized I had made a fatal mistake. The old woman was wrong. Their world, mine now, was an illusion that exuded power and dominance. When I left, I became the one in handcuffs. All along I wasn't the slave. They were. I had been the puppeteer. I had controlled them. With every sound I made, they responded almost immediately. When I was dying, they made sure to revive me.

Knowledge and truth came at a price: freedom. Ignorance really was bliss.