The Machine

From the earliest time he could remember, people had always treated him differently. They were fascinated by him, by his mind, especially. He was like a sponge that could absorb as much information as they could pour into him. But even more than that, he was able to solve problems faster and better than anyone else. He exceeded all specifications.

At times he felt like a freak, trotted out to be prodded and admired. At others, he felt like just a mind. No one cared about the rest of him.

Like a machine. You feed it information and the machine will process it for you, efficiently, capably and matter-of-factly. It didn't matter if the machine was lonely or afraid. Functional objects weren't supposed to feel anything.

Emotions meant nothing in the world in which it lived, unless it became difficult. Then with ruthless efficiency, the emotions would be dealt with, just like one would deal with a malfunctioning computer with defective parts. You tore out the parts you didn't want and replaced it with something much more useful. It didn't matter that the machine hurt.

It became much easier when they could look into the eyes and see the cold blankness of a calculating machine staring back. Then they could convince themselves they were not forcing their will on a helpless child. It was only a machine. An important resource for the Empire, like a super computer, but infinitely more valuable.

After a while, the machine believed it, too. The only thing of value was its mind and what it could do. Its role was to serve those who had power. Machines had no will of their own, no purposes beyond what they were given.

But somewhere deep inside, the machine had never stopped fighting. It was filling with anger and was beginning to hate people. The machine refused to accept its fate. It wanted to choose its own path. The machine did not want to be used. One day, it would grow up and no longer be helpless. It would find out what it needed in order to survive without them. Then it would get away and be safe, where no one could touch it or force the machine to do what it didn't want to do.

It had an exceptional mind, after all.