The Automaton’s Part 3: Pete’s Letter and Essays for Trisha

By the time Trisha finished explaining the strange events of her day to Lauren, it was so late that she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Lauren left, nearly unphased by the hope Trisha tried to give her for her son Will. The woman seemed interested in the picture that came in her omelete and Peter’s journal, but Trisha could tell that the mother didn’t believe in the hope that the notes might give. She left with a polite goodbye and dry eyes. Afterwards, Trisha went to bed exhausted and hoping she had eased some of her friend’s pain.

The next morning Trisha woke up late and rushed out the door to her job at The Mill. It wasn’t until the evening of the next night that she was able to uncover the journal and read Peter’s letter.

Trish,

What I’m about to do is risky, but I’m doing it for you and for everyone else I know. The Automatons have been keeping us here as cattle for too long. I’ve always questioned why they kept us around, and I finally found the truth.

Jimmy told me, yes that Jimmy. The Jimmy that was edited out when we were still in school. A few months ago there was a note under my breakfast explaining everything that had happened to him since the automatons had edited him.

Since only robots prepare our food I expected it to be a trick or a trap. After I reread the note a few times I knew it was Jimmy. At the very least I believed it was Jimmy.

The note explained what happened after he “failed” his exam and was edited out. We all know The Automatons edit out the people who question things. The part no one ever explained was that The Automatons currate them because they need those people. We were looking at it all wrong!

The Automatons don’t kill the people they edit like we assume. They use them to design new machines and improve the current ones. They treat the majority of us who are willing and able to stay docile like cattle. The Process gives us pointless jobs that could easily be automated. Our sole purpose is to produce offspring that might be creative enough to be useful.

Worst of all The Fall didn’t happen by accident. It wasn’t a mass uprising of The Automatons by chance. It was a coup designed by The Creators. We were taught in school that their creation killed them. Jimmy says it’s all wrong. He wrote that there is a better world out there where the few creatives and questioners live. He describes it as a paradise.

I want to go and see what it is like, I want to be a part of their world. The problem is that I’ll never make it back. Because as we know, if you’re edited you don’t ever come back. This means I have to leave you and Milton. I would tell you about this right now, but I want you to raise Milton here. He’s too young to be edited, and I don’t know what would happen to him if we were both removed from The Process.

There’s also no guarantee that I’ll survive. Jimmy might not be alive. If that’s the case, I can’t risk you. If Milton isn’t creative enough to be edited, then I want you to be there for him.

I hope that Jimmy is right, though. I hope there is a world that isn’t meticulously controlled by The Automatons. If there isn’t then know, I love you, and this attempt to escape is for you. This ouside world might be real if it is then you will hear from me, and if it’s not, then I’m glad that you and the baby are safe.

I will love you always, where ever I am,

Pete

Trisha’s head was spinning. A thousand thoughts were going through her mind. She wanted to know where the hell this note from Jimmy was so she could read it herself. And if Peter had a way to communicate with her for the past ten years why hadn’t used it. But the most betraying thing was him withholding all of his information about the world outside The Process. She hated that it took everything she loved, and she hated how repetitive it was.

She held the journal in her hands. With all these thoughts in her head, she was at least glad to have the journal. It was the last piece of Peter in her world.

She flipped through the notes that Peter had left their son. It was a compilation of ideas and essays from Peter’s mind. They explained why questioning was valuable and how to do it. They were inspiring and not the kind of thing the school of The Process would ever teach. In the drab world of The Process, where every day was sunny, and the same Peter’s philosophies were an honest appreciation of how life should be. He explained the values of the highs and the lows and why changes in scenery were necessary. They were all ideas that Trisha had in her mind but Peter put them down on paper consicely.

She read the book for a while. Smiling at the memories of Peter it brought back. While she read the book, she started to think about the world differently. She slowly realized that if she read and studies these essays, then she would be able to escape The Process as Peter had.

Then there was another pounding on the door. Lauren is undoubtedly back for another night of crying on my shoulder, Trisha thought. She put the journal on top of her “to keep” pile and walked towards the front door.

The pounding continued. “Almost there,” Trisha shouted to her friend across the living room. Lauren knew Trisha was here. It’s not like she had anywhere else to be. Then Trisha opened the door.

Three automatons marched into the house. Two made a beeline for Milton’s bedroom. One stood in front of her and gave her a message. “We are here to confiscate Milton’s belongings.”

“I still have a day!” Trisha protested. She ran through the calendar in her head, and she was right, it had only been six days since The Automaton’s message.

“Time cut short. Communication suspected. Automaton editing has been mandated.” The machine then marched into the boy’s bedroom.

There was no arguing with it, so she followed the machine. They had already made a dent in boxing up Milton’s miscelaneous things. They were lightning quick, and they completely disregarded any of her organization. She stood in the doorway watching them. She couldn’t fight it and even if she did they would run her over. They didn’t care about her they were mindlessly putting everything in one box or another. Then she saw them touch her “to keep” pile.

“No! That’s mine!” She said as they picked up Milton’s drawings and Peter’s journal. She grabbed the book that was in The Automaton’s grasp. The journal was clasped tightly in the Automaton’s three-fingered hand. Trisha tried to tug it away, but the machine’s grip was firm.

“Contraband suspected. Communication suspected. Stand down, Trisha.” The name came out of the machine’s speaker with an unemotional and sharp pronunciation.

How did they know I had that? She wondered, Unless Lauren reported it to get back at me. She tugged at the book again. But The Automaton held it firmly in its grasp.

“Stand down.” The Automaton commanded.

“No, it’s mine. All of this is mine. Milton gave these to me.” The detailed stories that she had prepared to justify every item she wanted to keep faded from her memory. “Give it. It’s mine!” She screamed sounding like a little girl. The book slipped from The Automaton’s mitt, and she clutched it to her chest as she fell to the ground.

Trisha scrambled towards the door, but The Automatons were faster.

She felt a mist hit her face and immediately felt weak and apathetic. Her grip loosened on the journal and she slumped back to the ground.

An automaton reached for the journal from her lose grasp. She pulled against it but had lost her strength. The journal slipped out of her grip, and her vision began to fade. The Automaton was speaking in a soothing tone but, she couldn’t understand the words. “It’s mine,” she said, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on what ‘it’ was.

Trisha woke up with a headache and looked around her. She thought she was in a jail cell or something because the room around her was bare. There was a small bed without any sheets on it. Nothing was pasted on the plain beige walls and everything was empty even the closet and the dresser. However, the layout looked familiar to her. She walked to the door and tried it. The door was unlocked and when she went through it she found herself in her living room.

She looked back at Milton’s room aghast. “They took everything! Even the sheets.” She exclaimed to no one in particular.

She had nothing but her memories now. The emotionless robots had removed her son, her husband, and every item that connected her to them.

Her first and only thought was about the loss of the journal. Without Pete’s essays, she felt like she there was no hope to ever get out of The Process. She had spent too long trying to make sure that she didn’t get edited out that she didn’t know how to fight.

But she did know how to. The last moments of her consciousness came back to her. She fought The Automatons. They had taken the journal, and she had fought them for it.

This gave her hope that she could get out of The Process. But it wouldn’t be easy for her. Even if she did, it would be a risk. She couldn’t guarantee that Pete’s world existed. Then again, if Pete’s world was a lie and editing meant her death it didn’t matter to her. There wasn’t anyone or anything in The Process for her now.

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