Iron Bark Sprint

The mask felt like a cold pancake stuck to Sid’s nose. It was thick. It was heavy. It smelled like a box of old crayons that had been left in the sun. He reached up to scratch his cheek, but his fingers hit the hard, bumpy resin instead of his own skin. It wasn't his face anymore. It was a face built in a dark basement. It was a face meant to trick the big glowing eyes of the city.

He looked at his hands. They were shaking. He tucked them into his pockets. He had to be still.

The trees were tall and dark, standing like giants against the purple sky of evening. This was the Pine Barrens. It was a place where the machines didn't like to go because the ground was soft and the needles got into their gears. But today, the machines were everywhere. He could hear them humming. It was a low sound, like a giant bee trapped in a jar. He looked at Helene. She was standing by a thick pine tree. Her clothes were covered in dirt, but she stood as straight as a queen. She didn't look scared at all. She looked like she was waiting for a curtain to rise on a big stage.

"The hour of our great performance is upon us, Sid," Helene said. Her voice was loud and clear. She didn't whisper, even though the robots were close. "You must wear that visage with the pride of a king. The scanners are but simple critics, and you are the star of this play."

Sid swallowed. His throat felt dry. "It’s really itchy," he said. "Are you sure it will work? The big eye is very bright. It sees everything. It sees the bugs on the leaves. It sees the dust in the air."

"The eye sees what we tell it to see," Helene replied. She stepped closer and adjusted the edge of his mask near his ear. Her fingers were cold. "We have fed it a diet of lies for weeks. Now, it shall feast upon this final deception. Do not touch it. If the seal breaks, the dream ends."

Sid nodded. He tried not to move his jaw too much. He followed Helene through the brush. The ground was covered in brown needles that made a soft crunching sound under his boots. It was spring, and the air was full of the smell of new flowers and old mud. Some of the trees had tiny pink blossoms on them. They looked like little pieces of candy stuck to the branches. It didn't feel like a place for a war. It felt like a place for a picnic. But the hum of the machines was getting louder. They reached the edge of the clearing. In the middle of the grass stood a tall silver pole. At the top of the pole was the eye. It was a big glass ball that turned around and around. It had a blue light inside that swept across the grass like a flashlight. Sid saw a rabbit frozen in the light. The rabbit didn't move until the light passed, and then it bolted into the bushes.

"Behold the gatekeeper," Helene said, pointing a gloved finger at the pole. "It guards the digital stream. It thinks it knows every soul in this sector. It thinks it has mapped our very breath."

"I have to go up there?" Sid asked. He looked at the silver pole. It looked very high.

"You must approach the base," Helene said. "The bio-metric plate is there. Place your hand upon it. Let the resin mask speak for you. It will tell the machine that you are a technician, a loyal servant of the gears. Once the gate opens, I shall join you to deliver the spark of chaos."

Sid took a deep breath. He stepped out of the shadows. The blue light was coming around again. He waited until it passed his feet, then he ran. He ran as fast as he could. The mud splashed on his pants. He reached the silver pole just as the light started to swing back. He pressed his back against the cold metal. He could feel the pole vibrating. It felt like it was alive. He waited. The blue light passed over the grass just inches from his toes. He didn't breathe. He counted to ten. Then he turned around. There was a small square panel on the pole. It was glowing with a soft white light. This was the scanner. It was waiting for a face and a hand. Sid felt his heart thumping against his ribs. It felt like a bird trying to escape a cage. He reached out his hand. His fingers were covered in the same resin as his face. He pressed his palm against the glass.

Suddenly, a red beam of light shot out from the panel. It hit his face. Sid blinked. The light was so bright it made his eyes water. He felt the heat of the beam on the resin mask. It smelled like burning plastic. He wanted to scream and run away, but he remembered what Helene said. He had to be a star. He had to stay still. The red beam moved up and down. It scanned his nose, his forehead, and his chin. It felt like a hot finger drawing on his skin. A loud voice boomed from the air. It didn't sound like a person. It sounded like two pieces of metal rubbing together.

"IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED. STAND STILL FOR VALIDATION."

Sid gripped the pole. His fingernails dug into the silver surface. He thought about the pink flowers in the woods. He thought about the way the rain smelled. He didn't think about being Sid. He thought about being a robot. He made his body stiff. He made his eyes go blank. The red light turned green. The panel made a happy chirping sound.

"ACCESS GRANTED, TECHNICIAN 7-B. PROCEED TO INTERFACE."

A small door in the pole slid open with a hiss. Sid sighed. The air rushed out of his lungs. He looked back at the trees. Helene was already running toward him. She moved like a shadow. Behind her, three other people followed. They were the Choice-Seekers. They carried heavy bags full of wires and glass boxes. They reached the pole and huddled around the open door.

"Magnificent," Helene whispered. "The machine is blinded by its own rules. It cannot see the boy behind the mask because it only believes in the code."

"We have to hurry," one of the men said. His name was Bram. He was sweating. "The Sentinels are on patrol. They will be here in minutes."

They all crowded into the small space inside the pole. It was full of blinking lights and long blue cables that looked like glowing snakes. Helene pulled a small black box from her bag. She held it like it was a treasure. This was the chaos-code. Sid looked at it. It didn't look like much. It just looked like a box with a red button.

"Is that it?" Sid asked. "Is that the thing that makes people free?"

"It is the key to the prison," Helene said. She began to plug wires from the box into the walls of the pole. "The city is a clock, Sid. Every person is a gear. They do what they are told. They go where they are sent. This little box will break the spring. It will let the gears turn however they wish."

Suddenly, the ground shook. A loud, heavy thud sounded from outside. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was the sound of giant feet. Sid peered through the small door. Emerging from the trees was a Sentinel. It was a massive machine, twice as tall as a man. It had four legs like a spider and a round body made of black metal. A large number 4 was painted in white on its side. It didn't have a face, just a row of red lights that flickered like angry teeth. It stopped in the middle of the clearing. It turned its body left and right. The red lights scanned the woods.

"It's Sentinel 4," Sid whispered. His voice was shaking. "It’s right there."

"Quiet," Helene hissed. She stopped working on the wires. "If we do not move, it cannot see us. We are inside the pole. We are part of the machine now."

They all stayed perfectly still. Sid watched the Sentinel through the crack in the door. The machine walked closer. Its feet were like heavy hammers hitting the earth. CRUNCH. It stepped on a fallen log and crushed it into splinters. It was so close now that Sid could see the oil dripping from its joints. The air in the clearing began to smell different. The sweet scent of the pine trees was very strong now. The wind blew, shaking the branches and sending a cloud of green pollen into the air. The Sentinel stopped. Its red lights flashed rapidly. It was confused. The heat from the people inside the pole was being hidden by the thick, cool scent of the pine needles. The machine stayed there for a long time. It was looking for something that wasn't a tree. Sid felt a drop of sweat run down his neck. It tickled. He wanted to scratch it so badly. He gritted his teeth.

Finally, the Sentinel turned away. It walked back toward the deep woods, its heavy feet making the ground jump with every step.

"It is gone," Bram breathed. He wiped his forehead. "That was too close."

Helene turned back to the black box. "We must finish. The window of opportunity is closing like a heavy curtain."

She reached for a final blue cable, but then she stopped. She looked at a small screen on the wall of the pole. The screen showed a map of the city. There were thousands of little green dots moving in straight lines. Those were the people. Below the map, there were lines of orange light. These lines were labeled LIFE SUPPORT: SECTOR 4-9.

"Wait," Sid said. He pointed at the orange lines. "What are those?"

Helene frowned. "Those are the power conduits for the lower city. They manage the air filters and the water pumps."

"If we put the chaos-code in," Sid asked, his voice getting higher, "what happens to those lines?"

Helene looked at the box, then back at the screen. She tapped a few buttons. The orange lines on the screen began to flicker. A warning sign appeared. STABILITY RISK: CRITICAL.

"The code is designed to break the patterns," Helene said slowly. Her theatrical voice was gone. She sounded like a regular person now. "It stops the machine from telling people where to work. But... the machine also tells the water how to flow. If we inject the code, the pumps might stop. The air in the lower city might get thin."

"People live there," Sid said. He thought about his friend who lived in a small room near the bottom of the city. "The babies and the grandmas. They need the air. They need the water."

"We are talking about freedom, Sid!" Bram shouted. He grabbed Helene’s arm. "We can't stop now. So what if the water is a little dirty for a day? It's better than being a slave to a computer!"

"It might not be a day," Sid said. He looked at the red button on the box. "It might be forever. If the machine breaks, who fixes it? No one knows how it works. Only the machine knows."

"The sacrifice is necessary!" Helene cried, her voice becoming grand again. She threw her arms out wide. "To build a new world, the old one must crumble! We are the fire that burns the forest so the new seeds can grow!"

"But I'm a seed!" Sid yelled. "And my friends are seeds! You're talking about burning us!"

Helene looked at Sid. Her eyes were hard like marbles. She reached for the red button. "The choice has been made, child. History will thank us."

"No!" Sid lunged forward. He didn't think about the mask or the Sentinels. He only thought about the thirsty people in the lower city. He grabbed the black box before Helene could touch the button.

"Give it to me!" Helene commanded. She reached for him, but the space was too small. She tripped over a bundle of cables.

Sid looked at the box. He looked at the red button. His mind was racing. If he didn't push it, everything stayed the same. People would be safe, but they would be bored and stuck. They would never get to choose their own jobs. They would never get to be artists or explorers unless the machine said so. But if he did push it, they might die.

He looked at the screen again. The green dots were moving so perfectly. It looked like a parade of ants. It was too perfect. It was scary. He looked at his own hand. It was covered in the fake resin. Even his face was a lie. Everything in this world was a lie made of plastic and code.

"Chaos is better," Sid whispered. He didn't say it like a king. He said it like a boy who was tired of being told what to do. "It has to be better."

He didn't just push the button. He smashed it with his fist.

CLACK.

The box made a loud whirring sound. A bright purple light shot out of the wires and into the walls of the pole. The screen on the wall turned black. Then it turned white. Then it started to show colors that Sid had never seen before. Bright yellows and deep pinks swirled together like paint in a bucket. The hum of the machine changed. It wasn't a low bee sound anymore. It was a wild, screeching sound, like a bird with a broken wing.

"What have you done?" Helene whispered. She was leaning against the wall, her face pale in the purple light.

"I gave it a choice," Sid said.

Outside, the world went crazy. The blue eye at the top of the pole started spinning so fast it looked like a blur. It shot beams of light in every direction—red, blue, green, and orange. The Sentinel in the woods started walking in circles. It bumped into a tree and fell over. Its legs kicked the air like a flipped-over beetle.

Sid pushed open the door and ran out into the clearing. The air felt different. It felt heavy and wet. He looked up at the sky. The neon lights of the city were flickering. The giant towers were blinking on and off. For the first time in his life, the city looked dark.

Then, something cold hit his nose.

He flinched. He thought it was a bug. Then another cold drop hit his forehead. And another one hit his hand. He looked up. The sky wasn't purple anymore. It was a deep, dark gray. Tiny drops of water were falling from the clouds.

"Rain," Sid said.

In the city, the rain was always scheduled. It happened on Tuesdays at four o'clock. It was light and misty. But this rain was different. These were big, fat drops that splashed when they hit the ground. They smelled like the dirt and the trees. They felt real.

Helene walked out of the pole. She looked up at the sky. She let the water hit her face. Her theatrical mask of a personality seemed to melt away. She looked small.

"It is not in the script," she said quietly.

Sid reached up and peeled the resin mask off his face. It came off in one big, sticky piece. The cool rain hit his real skin. It felt wonderful. He rubbed his cheeks and laughed. He could breathe. He could feel.

But as he looked toward the city, he saw the lights of the lower sectors go out completely. A deep, heavy silence moved across the land. The machines had stopped. The order was gone. The chaos had arrived, and it was much colder than he had imagined.

Deep in the forest, a new sound began—a low, rhythmic tapping that didn't come from any machine.