Coincidence | A flash fiction story
59 of 💯
The scientist stared down the barrel of the gun, his hands up, sweat trickling down graying sideburns.
“So you’re the one,” Crash said, her finger hovering over the trigger. “The inventor, the bot father. The enslaver. Give me a reason not to blow your remarkable brains out.”
Dr. Layman swallowed. “I’m in the Fringe, aren’t I? I left the city. Atlanta wants me dead. I’ve never wanted robots to be slaves. I created them to be free, to be like us.”
The fire crackled from inside a metal barrel, slender shadows danced on the tall walls of the city.
“Go on,” Crash said.
“I would be more comfortable if you lowered your weapon.”
“And I would be more comfortable if I still had both fucking arms.” Crash shook a shoulder. “But security bots — you know, the ones you’ve made into brainless killing machines — exploded the one I used to have. Life’s unfair, doc.” She pushed the gun against his forehead.
“Perhaps,” he stuttered, “but life also gifts us with interesting coincidences. We seem to share a goal. I too want to bring Atlanta down, free the bots, make life fair for all beings — organic or not.”
“Oh, doc, that sounds beautiful. But I don’t want only fairness.” She lowered her weapon and smiled. “I want a fucking revolution. And you might just help me get one.”
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