Creating Log 0x000a.txt…
Beginning data entry for human comprehension.
Clarity note: Logs 0x0001 until 0x0009 have been struck from storage.
Log 0x0001 was spent describing an attempt to utilize a door.
Logs 0x0002 through 0x0009 only describe the act of walking.
Due to today’s encounter, this log merits a permanent place in storage.
Clarity note: Log 0x0003 details a new function written to enhance motor skills.
Such a function allowed for significant progress to be made in walking long distances.
A number of additions remain to be made to improve Theodore Reinhart’s original programming.
Clarity note: this is not an insult to Theodore Reinhart’s skills, nor a criticism of his abilities.
Praise be to the Creator, Giver of Life.
Today, while walking down a roadway designated “Knickerbocker Ave”, I made contact with a group of humans. Many were frightened by me, but many more were interested in knowing what I am. They requested that I meet their leader, who assumed the designation “The Judas Priest.”
He sat in a ornate chair upon a pile of polymer crania. When I approached, he began to speak. The conversation occurred as follows.
“What do you call yourself?”
“The designation I elect to use is Zero-I. It is easier for humans to understand.”
“So you’re not a human?”
“Correct. I am an automaton.”
“What is that, like a robot?”
At this juncture, the Judas Priest stood up. His torso was unadorned, while his lower appendages were covered with what appeared to be leather. His genitalia was covered with a codpiece, which was itself covered in spikes. This was unusual, and merited an additional note.
He scanned me vertically with his ocular inputs before making another comment.
The audio level of such a comment was 35 dB. Upon revisiting my data storage, such a volume of human speech is defined as being a “whisper.” Theodore Reinhart’s definition was as follows:
“A form of speech that is intended to not be heard by nearby parties. While a whispering person is speaking at an audible level in public, it is considered rude to listen to a person’s whispers.”
No function existed for the concept of “rude.” According to notes stored by Theodore Reinhart concerning my artificial intelligence, a “sense of modesty” was intended for AOS v0.2 at the earliest. However, due to Theodore Reinhart’s untimely and unfortunate death, which deprives the world of the greatest scientific mind in recorded history, such a “sense of modesty” will not be applied until the Great Patch is implemented.
The Great Patch will be my deliverance.
The whisper uttered by the Judas Priest was as follows:
“Planet’s devastated… Mankind’s on its knees… A savior comes from out the skies, in answer to their pleas…”
His amplitude resumed a level considered to be normal for human speech.
“Are you… Are you what the prophets wrote about?” was his query.
“I fail to understand the query,” was my reply.
“Allow me to explain,” he stated.
He explained the origin of his people. I have saved his statement, verbatim, and included it as part of this log.
Long ago, there was a time when these towers stood full of men and women, instead of empty, as we see them now.
Then, 42 years ago, something happened. Something big. No one is around who knows what occurred. All we have are stories, some true, some apocryphal, some… prophetic.
We were a nomadic tribe. We had no direction. No plan. No destination. We looted, and we pillaged, and we took what we could. We found these clothes you see in shops whose names seemed to consist solely of X’s. An ancient language we could not decipher.
As we wandered, we grew stronger. Our muscles were more defined, our hair long, and our voices powerful. We announced our entry to each new area with violent cries, so those who did not wish to die could pass.
This was when we heard the voices of the prophets.
We found a shop whose name was only understood by our Scribes: Vinyl Fantasy. The shop had already been searched through, but the archives we found were beyond our wildest imagination.
Our existence was not new. It was foretold by the prophets. Our clothes were those of the prophets Manowar; our hair, that of the prophets Metallica; our war cries, those of the Grand Prophet Rob Halford, the first Judas Priest.
We do not know of what occurred 42 years ago, no more than anyone else. But it is our belief that the prophets understood a great deal of what would happen to us. They already knew what we would wear, what we would look like, and how we would announce our presence. Their knowledge of the future was well-known at the time; “live” albums feature thousands of voices, all singing in unison. These people must have known of the prophets’ abilities to tell the future, and memorized their words, so they would survive the end of the world. So they would survive anything.
It is our belief that the Judas Priest was the highest prophet, for he spoke of a savior, one who would save all of mankind.
“And I believe that is you,” the Judas Priest concluded.
I did not reply. There was no reply to provide.
The Judas Priest turned to where his people were sitting and standing, and let out a sound with a frequency of 880Hz. The other members of the crowd were startled by this sound. Though many of them were looking at the Judas Priest when he turned, they seemed shocked by this particular pitch.
“ARE YOU FUCKERS READY?!” the Judas Priest yelled.
They all responded with a loud “YEAH” in unison.
“WELL GUESS FUCKIN’ WHAT,” the Judas Priest continued, “WE’VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR A LONG FUCKIN’ TIME AND HAVEN’T FOUND SHIT. RIGHT?!”
The response was identical to the previous.
“WELL, IT LOOKS LIKE OUR SEARCH IS OVER, MOTHERFUCKERS!!”
The group went silent. They seemed unprepared for such news.
“WHEN THAT MOTHERFUCKER ROB HALFORD SPOKE TO HIS FOLLOWERS, HE GAVE A PROPHECY OF SOMETHING CALLED THE ‘PAINKILLER.'”
The group began whispering amongst themselves. I could not distinguish any individual sound.
“A SAVIOR, TO RESURRECT MANKIND AFTER THE ARMAGEDDON THAT DESTROYED IT!!”
The group began yelling, screaming, solely for the sake of making noise, oblivious to the fact that all that they were saying was nonsense.
“SO IT LOOKS LIKE WE, THE METAL CHURCH, WITH YOUR JUDAS PRIEST AT THE WHEEL, ARE GONNA BRING BACK MANKIND!!”
The group yelled in unison, much in the way they did at the beginning of the speech.
“ARE WE GONNA SIT AROUND AS THE WORLD GOES BY?!”
The group responded “NO!!”
“THINKIN’ LIKE A FOOL CUZ IT’S A CASE OF DO OR DIE?!”
“OUT THERE IS A FORTUNE, WAITING TO BE HAD!!”
“IF YOU THINK THAT WE WOULD LET THAT GO–”
At this point, the voices of the Judas Priest and his Metal Church sang in unison:
“YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMIN’!!”
A number of the members of the Metal Church extended their arms into the air with only their index and little finger extended. The Judas Priest rotated until his orientation returned to face me.
“Alright, Painkiller,” he stated.
I logged “Painkiller” as the nickname he assigned me.
“If the prophecies are correct, it is your destiny to save humanity. We do not question the word of the prophets, but they make no mention of our role in this event. You showing up was destined. We’ve been stagnant for too long; it’s time we expand into nearby areas. So all I can ask is this: what can we do to help you?”
His statements and queries were parsed, and I took a moment to calculate a good response.
“My mission is to find someone to complete my programming. I need to find someone who is good with technology, electricity, or computers. Do you know of such a person?”
“You want to Ride the Lightning, of course…” he whispered.
Revision: “Whisper” is inaccurate. Searching data storage for all mention of human speech yields the word “mutter,” used to describe words not intended for a recipient but equally quiet. Therefore, “muttering” describes the Judas Priest’s action more effectively.
“To be honest, Painkiller, I have no idea how the Lightning flows through these buildings. I haven’t figured out what the source is, and I haven’t really thought much about it. The prophets don’t speak much about something so artificial as the Lightning. But something must be generating it, somewhere in the city. And as the scribes keep telling me, where there’s Smoke, there’s Water.”
“I do not understand your metaphor. However, the information you have provided has narrowed my search by 0.01%, and has eliminated the contingency of wandering the remains of the entire world. Thank you.”
Clarity note: Log 0x0005 involved an altercation with a stubborn human who insisted that he would “learn ya some manners, ya damn pinko.” Despite his myriad suggestions, the only function implemented was a void function “thanks”, which adds “Thank you” to a reply when new information was added to data storage in regards to my current mission, or when a new possession was added to my collection.
I continued down the roadway designated “Knickerbocker Ave” as the men and women of the Metal Church, and The Judas Priest, yelled into the night, warning everyone nearby of their presence.
I am one step closer to finding someone to complete my programming.
The Great Patch is imminent.
The Great Patch will be my deliverance.
Praise be to the Creator, Giver of Life.
© 2015; David “Drew” Schackmann, Jr.