Forest of Gears
Synthia listened for anything that sounded unnatural in a forest of machinery. Sprockets, chains and belts shifted and spun; every movement expected by Synthia. She continued to walk carefully through the moving parts, daylight flickering through the mechanisms. She heard a whirring coming from an area of The Machine that is supposed to be slow moving and quiet. She found a large flywheel, spinning much faster than it should. If something were to get caught in the machinery, the energy from the wheel could break something in The Machine. She smiled. This was one of Synthia's favorite problems to fix, and she had an idea on how to fix it permanently. Synthia gazed past the flywheel and saw the large concrete wall made to separate the different sectors just like hers. She thought about her older sister, who had moved to another sector. Something like this happening was generally unheard of, but her sister was such an amazing engineer, she was chosen to save another sector’s machine. She walked back to her village to gather the right tools to fix the flywheel.
After returning to her village, she walked past a group of students learning about The Machine and how They came to be. The students were currently studying the input system of The Machine, and how to format and enter questions to The Machine. They filled out worksheets for entering simple math questions. Sythia remembered her years as a student. She envied herself at 10 years old, being able to learn the secrets of The Machine, and crafting detailed documents of how to enter complex questions. Preparing to use The Machine when she finally became old enough to ask questions was an activity that Sythina spent all too much time on as a kid. She had lost the instructions for most questions, but not the most important: how she could see her sister again.
As Synthia walked to grab her tools, all movement from The Machine around the village stopped. Synthia knew she could fix the problem faster than anyone else and bring The Machine back to life. As Synthia ran to the center of the forest, watching The Machine, she finally found where the issue was. It was just outside of the heart of the forest: an enclosed room. All the inputs to the forest came from within it, and all the outputs went back in. Synthia could only imagine the dense machinery inside required to make this possible. But most importantly, there was a way to talk to The Machine. Synthia tried to rip out a dilapidated wooden support that had gotten stuck in The Machinery, but it wouldn’t budge. As stress set in with the thought of the death of The Machine, she reached deep into the cluster of dense machinery to break the support free. With a snap the support broke in two, and a particularly sharp screw cut her arm.
She bled from the deep gash up her forearm. The rich aroma of blood filled the air, similar to, but distinct from the forest’s usual cold metallic smell. Syntha knew that she had to get help quickly to stop the bleeding. She looked at the door into the room. Several elders of the village were there at all times to make sure all was well in the most important area of the forest. Synthia knocked on the door. There was no response. This made sense to her, as they were probably panicking about the recent malfunction. She looked at her arm, spilling it’s life onto the ground. She knocked again. A small window slid open, revealing the eyes of one of the elders in his 60’s. His eyes were dull and worried, The man’s eyes went wide as he saw her injury, and unlatched the door. In a frantic voice he ordered her to stay there. The man seemed very different from the confident geniuses Sythia had imagined working in this room. He ran to get a small first aid kit inside, leaving the door cracked open. The man came back and opened the door just enough for him to try to clean up the wound. He murmured questions to Synthia about where she hurt herself and other such things, but she wasn’t listening. She was looking into the dark room. It was quiet and static. No fast moving gears, no belts, no chains. Nothing. She saw where the outputs of the forest went into the room. The outputs had nothing attached to them. They spun quietly, unhelpfully, and meaninglessly. The room was completely empty with the exception of a fold out table with some other elders playing cards. As the man finished applying the bandages, he looked up at Synthia. She had a blank expression, and her eyes were starting to shine.
“I think we probably need to talk…” said the old man.
Synthia ran. She had read enough stories to finally understand what she was living in: A prison. The only way Synthia could see her sister again is by going to her personally. No machine was going to tell her how, or give her permission. She sprinted through the forest, breaking off of the safe paths. She didn’t know who could be chasing her after learning this dangerous secret. Sprockets, chains and belts shifted and spun as synthia maneuvered through them. The moving parts opened and closed possible routes. But Synthia expected every movement of the mechanical eyesore. She dove through gears moments before they would have crushed her. She saw the grey concrete barrier between her and her freedom, before it the flywheel spinning much faster than it should. Synthia grabbed on the flywheel, the speed nearly jerking her arms clean off. She launched herself up, using the speed of the wheel.
She took her first look at the outside world suspended in the air. Nothing. Sand and chunks of broken concrete covered the outside ground. No people, no other sectors, no older sister. Synthia’s wide eyes and smile gave way to a resting expression of anger, disappointment and helplessness as she began to fall. She hit her chin on the edge of the wall. The outside disappeared into concrete, and the concrete disappeared into nothingness.