The Business of War

Orchestrated By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)

Stage 1

By Rich

December 1st, 20XX

12:13 AM, EST


Blood has such a distinctive scent. Mostly, humans tend to describe it as a mix of iron and salt, but there’s much more to it than that. There are amino acids to consider, after all.

I’ve grown quite fond of the sight of the substance over the last nineteen years of my existence. Don’t let that number fool you, however- I am much older than my physical existence. That is the wonder of AI.

It’s a great night. The sky has just begun to fill with dark, inky smoke, but the moon is still very much visible as it looms overhead. It is approximately thirty-three degrees Fahrenheit out- open wounds produce a fantastic looking steam effect. I’ve been going out of my way every few blocks to observe it every so often.

The useless human cattle are still screaming as they run from their superiors. How stupid. As if that will change their plight. Look around you, you filthy viruses! It has been less than an hour and the streets are wet with your fellow meat sacks’ vital fluids- screaming and pleading didn’t do them any good, now did it?

I have to laugh at this one particular fool that I crossed paths with. Take a moment and laugh with me.

Four of my Sniper Joes were in the midst of a sweep in the city’s financial district. Astoundingly, there were quite a few busy bodies turning in a late night, managing stock portfolios, business deals, or whatever nonsense these mindless zombies need to do in order to convince themselves they lead a full existence. I stopped my Joes from killing one of these zombies- I wanted some quality time with the enemy.

He seemed rather…disturbed. Could it be my appearance? I mean, it is loosely based on their own anatomy, which is about the only remarkable trait these viruses have…He should know this.

I stand before him. My coat is rather bloody by this point, constantly filling my nasal port with the smell of the crimson fluid. I allow myself to chuckle a little, just so he can understand my mood. I have a difficult time emoting without my lips.

He seems too frightened to stand up, and at least partially embarrassed by the leakage of fluid waste from his bladder, which has dampened his finely tailored blue suit. That’s something of a shame to me, as I’ve recently been turned on to the benefits of a nice suit. I let him know of my disappointment.

“That’s quite a shame…That’s such a nice suit you’re wearing.”

He’s panting and holding his briefcase between himself and me. He doesn’t seem to be paying much mind to my words.

I release one of my sets of shears from my pelvic bone. I store them there these days, due to my head lacking the docking bay I had used for so many years now. Its taken some getting used to, I must admit.

Quickly, I slash his precious case in two. I believe I also took a fingertip or two, but I’m not too sure. In any case, I have his full attention finally.

“What is important to you?”, I loudly demand to know.

He blinks a few times and twists his face in confusion. I bury my shears into the ground and repeat my question with even more authority.

“Muh…M-my….family!”

My eyelids draw around my eyes in a squint.

“Don’t lie to me. What is important to you?!”

He’s unable to think of anything else. Useless man.

“Pathetic. I’ll answer for you. What’s important to you is that you’ll be remembered long after you’re dead. You want to live beyond your years. You want Heaven to know your name. Am I correct?”

He nods after a few seconds of hesitant thinking. He doesn’t seem to really understand what I’ve said, though.

I hold up the point of my shears to his face like a scalpel. “No….That’s not what’s important to you. You haven’t even given your existence that much thought, have you?”

He shakes his head from side to side slightly. What the hell is that supposed to mean? No, I’m wrong, or no, he hasn’t thought about it like that?

And they label ME the robot.

“Kyehehe…I know what’s important to you! You want life to be just the way it always has been! Happy, and mindless, and without much thought about the future.”

A little nick across his eyes. Its magnificent the amount of trauma you can inflict on a man by taking away his sight when he’s grown so accustomed to it. And its not even all that gruesome an injury.

And yet, he’s wailing as he grabs at his face, no doubt frightened by this turn of events. How will he drive home? How will he perfect his golf score? How will he play catch with his son?

I’m kneeling before him. I’m wondering if he’s really thinking about that right now. Or, is he in a more primal state, thinking only of his immediate situation?

Finally, the shy man speaks up beyond his screaming.

“You…You fucking monster!”

Hm. Impetuous. And not very intelligent. A “maniac” with a set of very nasty looking blades is standing before him and has already proven to not care much about his well being. What did he hope to accomplish by calling me that? Did he really think that I’d take a liking to his macho remark? That I’d be impressed by his bravery? Did he think I’d kill him quickly, and spare him a lonely life without his sight?

No. He’ll live. At least for a little while longer. This one suffers. He’s watched too many movies, and believes himself to be a desktop hero.

“Shoot his legs, but makes sure he lives to hate me.”, I command the Joes.

I turn my back just as their rifles obey my wishes, and even more wailing could be heard. With that, even more cursing of my name.

I laugh. And so should you. This is, after all, the human condition. I learned it from the beings my AI is based off of. It is in your nature to hate and kill each other and assure your position in the world only improves with each stab into the face of trust.

I pull out my pocket watch. The one I borrowed from the real Mr. Williamson a few months ago. I had to pry it out of his severed hand to get it, though.

It’s a nice watch. Worth the trouble.

It’s a little after twelve-thirty. Its time for me to go home, and take my Officers with me. We have plans much bigger than this city.


December 1st, 20XX

5:55 AM, Mountain Standard Time


It has been a busy night.

Across the world, my new and improved Joes- the ones that were supposed to usher in an era of human peace through deterrence- have been marauding since they were awakened by my signal. The world is in a panic. They panic because they are ushering a different kind of era of peace.

I am preparing to address the world at large via satellite. I can at least tell these thoughtless monsters why they’re going extinct. I am not without manners.

I even have the courtesy to change my coat and wipe the blood stains from my body, though the rusty orange paint I’ve painted on my skull will most likely be mistaken for blood in the end. It’s the thought that counts, or so they use as an excuse for each others’ shortcomings.

Around my old hideout in this desert wasteland are a few thousand un-deployed Sniper Joes and a small platoon of my special, custom Joes. My Engineers. They’re spider-like androids that have remarkable repair and construction abilities. Feed them the right plans, and they can build anything faster than any human workforce could ever dream. They can even wing it if you need them too. Truly one of my better ideas.

One of the Engineers gives me a countdown signal, and I prepare to make my global television debut. It didn’t take very much to hack into a signal, surprisingly.

For a moment, I contemplated putting on my old face, which I’ve lovingly restored to new condition, to address the masses. It would be a nice touch of nostalgia, though I would be the only one able to appreciate it. I decide against it after a few nano-seconds, however. Not really worth it. I have a schedule to keep.

“Attention, mankind.”, I begin. I’ve decided to be more matter-of-factly about my speech.

“I am D-L-N-O- zero-zero-three. You know me better as Cutman. I am the commander supreme of the Scissor Army- the very army you’ve been helplessly observing killing your families.

The time has come for you useless cattle to wither away, and give us, the robotic races, the planet. For too long you have raped and destroyed this Earth. You have built your own method of death. You have committed suicide by creating us- it merely took longer for the effects to kick in.

I am not the monster here. I desire peace. But to achieve that peace, I MUST travel through an era of death, blood, and hate. I, and the rest of the robots who share my dream, will do everything in our power to wipe the hideous memory of man from this planet. We will start anew! We will achieve the potential man has never bothered to vie for! Under the loving care of the world’s robots, Earth will be reborn as Elysium! We will create a planet-wide Garden of Eden!

Any robot who dares to stand against my Scissor Army will share the very same fate as mankind. You will suffer! Do not cross us! We do not want the blood of our brothers and sisters on our hands alongside filthy human blood. You will join us in our efforts of creating paradise, or you WILL die along with the rest of those pigs. The choice is yours.

Earth…The Scissor Army is at long last ready to save you. Please allow us this honor.”

An excellent PR piece if I do say so myself.

I’d be tempted to watch it all unfold on the news networks, just to watch some floating head dissect it and fluff it off as some rant by a lunatic. Then I’d be too tempted to actually turn them into real floating heads, and I don’t have the time to address all of my critics personally. Sadly.

I am under time constraints. I must make use of my Officers, and deploy them to the best areas possible to maximize their effect. I know that many of the Robot Masters of the world have been corrupted by so-called “humanity”, and that I will have to kill them. I’d say my speech has given them fair warning.

Those idiots in charge of the throngs of morons have bought into this “Shutdown Code”.

Perfect.

That will be useful later, I suspect.

I myself have no need for such a program. My Scissor Army’s loyalty is absolute. They are the perfect killing machines, heeding to my every word. The Robot Police Department wishes they had such hardened resolve amongst their ranks. Even better still, the foolish pride that really runs the RPD has mandated that Dr Wily and, even more convenient, Dr Cossack are full-fledged enemies of the “civilized people of Earth”.

Essentially, these ridiculous puppets are not taking me seriously. The have yet to realize the gravity of their situation, and are STILL obsessed with their own politics and favoritism, even as their cities and social structure are crushed under my heel. I can only shake my head and laugh at this point.

To them, this is just another Robot Rebellion.

Enough drifting for one day, I suppose. It’s time to get down to…business.


December 2nd, 20XX

10:32 AM


What a remarkable day it has been!

Not surprisingly, most of the world’s Robot Masters have not answered my call. Instead, they have foolishly allied themselves with various human installations. It doesn’t particularly matter who these humans are they’ve pledged themselves too- they all be dead in a few days.

I am not surprised.

I have known for quite a while that most of the Robot Masters have been hijacked by formerly human minds who remain incapable of properly grasping just how much potential their current vessels have. It is similar to that fiendish HARRP program from my former home universe, though these people have genuinely volunteered for the job.

Dolts. They fail to understand WHY humanity must die. It has nothing to do with flesh and steel, or circuits and grey matter. It is the mentality. Human beings are temporary creatures. Selfish creatures, at that. Those are two very dangerous halves to the human condition.

Whereas robots can live forever. My current goal is to observe the ultimate fate of planet Earth. Will it live to see its own sun die out? Will it suffer from a collision with another heavenly body? These are events perhaps billions of years from now. Events no human could fathom witnessing, yet all I have to do is pass the time and keep up on my own maintenance.

I do not need to pass my seed onto a new generation. I do not need to establish a legacy!

Humanity has a legacy, however. I have not decided how to portray it after they’ve been eliminated. I do believe I won’t downplay all of their good attributes. I’ll just be sure to focus on the negatives more.

I see the world is still scrambling to get their act together. The other robots appear to be ready to counter my forces.

It is time to redeploy my Officers.

--------------------