4th World, Earth
Every human being has something that ties them to life.
A chain that grips their wrist and won't let go, no matter how hard they struggle.
For me, that chain was my hatred for technology. And I speak of it as a whole of machines and rust.
I turn off the computer in front of me and put it in my bag, leaving the tiring workday behind. Studying population data wasn't an easy task, but since I'm nothing in life and have no relatives either, the task was ideal for surviving.
The memory of the high school principal I attended telling me I no longer had the conditions to stay in school and asking me to leave before I degraded the school's image for being poor and having no parental figures. And that's how I ended up here. In this place white as lime and cold as Antarctica before climate change.
My father was the only person I remembered, but unfortunately, the reason I don't have a mother comes from the kitchen knife he used when he got angry with her. That was something only the principal and a few "friends" of mine knew. But, surprisingly, those weren't the only reasons for my hatred of technology.
"Plink." My phone rings with its shrill sound that pierces my ears. It was a message from Júlia. I read it: "Are you leaving work late, Denis?" I smile. "What would I be without you, Júlia?" I send her a message back, grinning from ear to ear like a puppy.
"No, Júlia. Today I just had to organize what we did yesterday. Are you feeling better? I didn't have much time to send you a message. I hope you understand."
Júlia sends me a reply and a GIF of a man inside a car looking at his screen with a suspicious face. I smile, thinking about how interesting it would have been to be born before all of this. Before machines. Before AIs and before human laziness. But... we're in a world where no one bothers to try to do anything. Even if it's just a little. Read, write, see, and feel. Much less create memes and smile shyly at a girl you like. The masses no longer care about mundane and monotonous behaviors like that. "What do you mean, go out on a date with a woman? Leave the house to buy potatoes? Isn't that a robot's job? Work? Those things are for poor people." And they really were. When I look back at the screen, instead of a message, Júlia is calling me. I answer her call and speak:
"Sorry, Júlia, I was..." She cuts me off with incessant laughter that makes me blush.
"Oh, Denis~ You were already having those internal monologues of hatred for machines, weren't you?"
"No?"
"How cute, Denis. But I'm asking you to stop that. I know the AI Machines won't hurt you for thinking such things. But know that this isn't a war you can win. I don't know if you remember, but the AIs won the war without resorting to violence, Denis. And they..." This time, it was me who cut her off.
"Everything I consider bad in my life is their fault, Júlia. And you know it well. Or at least I like to think so. Maybe I'm wrong, as you say. But either way, I won't admit it. I work for what I hate, damn it! What fool likes to work for something that isn't even natural? And on top of that, cleaning its cables and putting lubricant on its screws?" I wait for her to say something or for her temper, as always, to explode. But nothing of the sort happens. "Exactly. No one."
"Listen well, Júlia, because this is the last time I'll remind you of History. The artificial intelligences took over the planet. At first, we, the great masses, tried to fight, to fight back, to protect what was ours. But in the end, the AIs won. How could they not win? Human beings are lazy by nature. They like pleasure without work." Hearing Júlia's disdainful laugh, I add, "At least the majority. How different would those who fought for freedom be if they forced others to fight for it when they already have it? The cause is noble. But all is lost."
"The war against the machines didn't last more than three months. There weren't many deaths, many families crying, parents screaming in despair. The war itself... I don't want to admit it, but... it was valiant. On one side, we fought, united, to maintain our essence. On the other, metal creaked to be heard. Who would have thought that metal also speaks? And it speaks well—without discrimination, without the evil we humans created. And that's one of the reasons I hate those noble piles of scrap. Evil gives value to goodness. Just as darkness emphasizes light."
"I would give anything to go back to the times when having a degree meant guaranteed work. To the times when it was mandatory to go to school and wash the dishes at home. To the times when a mother slapping her misbehaving child with a slipper so that the next day it would be red was a common event. To the times when talking and creating relationships with people—of the same sex or different—was necessary. Of unquestionable nature, even."
"I've tried to respect them. I can't. They don't deserve it. I hate them, and that's that. Even after a hundred years, they continue to govern. I wake up every one of my monotonous, shitty days reflecting on this pathetic situation. And with each thought, my hatred swells." And it was now, as a rule, that Júlia would start arguing in favor of the machines, but apparently, she said nothing more besides:
"Very well. See things as you wish, you stubborn mule. When you leave, go to the bar in front of work. Let's have some drinks to calm down, and you're going to buy me another dress." The last sentence she proclaimed was in good spirits. An antithesis to her tiredness.
"What happened to the half-yellow, half-red dress I bought you the other time?" I speak, forgetting the one-sided argument I just had with her.
"It tore when I went to buy medication for my mother, when it was ripped in the middle of the road and I was left half-naked. There was almost no one on the street, it was morning, and a man..."
"A man what?"
"A man tried to rape me. Fortunately, a policeman caught him while he was chaining me to a lamppost, right in broad daylight."
The way she said all of that frightened me immensely. She spoke with a calmness that wasn't normal for someone who could have been raped and possibly lose her life.
"Why didn't you say anything!"
"I tried to call you, but every time I did, your boss answered for you."
"And you still want to defend the AIs! Stay home and don't go out. I'm coming over there right now!"
"It's not..."
"Júlia, to me you're like family, and I could have lost you today. I need to see you face to face, to make sure you're okay!"
"Ok. See... you soon." Her voice falters a bit, like a child afraid their father will beat them for messing up.
"See you soon. And don't worry, I'll pay your mother's hospital bills myself." I say and hang up her phone, gripping it with force and anger. I was trembling like an enraged bull. "Fuck this shitty job." And I leave all the material that was still left to organize in a locker and prepare to cross the street, until I'm run over and die right there. Splayed out and lifeless...