Going Forth

The thunder of guns roared overhead. Shells whistled through the air, landing
feet away from him. Dirt flew at his face as he made the first dive out of the
trench, landing on his stomach, but crawling instantly so as to keep moving. He
knew if he didn't he would end up swiss cheese.
"Private!" His sergeant called from behing him. "Slow down! You're gonna get
yourself killed!"
He knew he was. This was war. He was here for one thing. For a long time their
fate at Burgfels had been sealed. The last push on 6th May, 1945, they knew
would end in bloodshed and failure.
Still... He had lived his life. A happy life.
With feelings. And emotions. All the things an AI never had the chance to feel.
As he crawled he caught glimpse of the union flag emblem sewn to his shoulder.
He felt great pride stitching it onto his jacket just hours before above the
bizarre emblem he couldn't understand in the shape of a B and a D. But now his
life was surely coming to an end, all he felt was regret. Regret that he didn't
have the time to enjoy all of the life he had had.
"Private Eleven Thirty Two! Stop now! You are too far ahea-" His sergeant was
cut off just as the machine gun ten feet from Eriks face lit up the dark terrain
around him. "AAAARGH!" He didn't want to look back at the mess they had left of
his sergeant.
The sound of the bombers heading in was getting louder. They were late. No
bombers showed, so they made the push alone, without support from the sky or
ground.
He rolled over onto his back, still relishing every emotion, every feeling. Even
the dirty muddy water sliding down his collar felt good. The sight of the
bullets flying back and forth in front of his eyes. The sound of the bombers
flying overhead, bringing the destruction just a few minutes too late.
Still, Erik smiled. Where most men would feel regret and sorrow, he was only
happy. Happy he had the chance to live. To feel. To see.
The whistle of the bombs grew louder in his ears. He wished, hard, that he could
spend just a few more minutes living. Not for the sake of living, but for the
sake of feeling.
A tear crept out of the corner of his eye and ran down the side of his face,
mixing into the dirty puddle he was lying in. The dark shape of the bomb falling
towards him materialised through the cloud of gunpouder smoke.
"Thank you," he whispered towards it. "I have lived"
Erik felt the bomb land just feet away from him, quickly followed by the flash
of fire and explosives, the bang didn't reach his aural receptors in time.
The floor fell away. He awoke in mid air. Falling.
*********
A confused skutter was re-righting itself amongst the rubble of the fallen
promenade. Struggling and taking forever Erik Eleven Thirty Two finally got
himself to his wheels.
Surveying his surroundings, he realised he was going to have a hard time finding
his way back to...
Where had he come from?
His memory processors ran on overdrive trying to figure out why he was on the
promenade, why he had been shutdown and where he had come from.
*bleep!*
Erik looked around for the source of the bleep.
*bleep!*
It was nearby, he could tell. But he couldn't see anything making the noise.
*bleep!*
Erik looked down to see something attached to his casing. Removing it less than
carefully, he had a good look at the bleeping machine.
*bleep!*
It had a button on the front, so naturally, he pressed it.
A large blue figure appeared infront of him. His memory banks had to run
overtime some more to recognise the figure. All he could process in time was
that this person was very important to his mission.
The projection of Micky Bellhorn looked at him, slightly misconfigured so that
he was actually looking just to the left, but Erik got the point.
"Erik! Help! Shit, I don't know what's going on, I seem to be here one minute,
then the next...." The projection crackled, as if it had a bad signal.
"...falling into a room I don't..." Another crackle "...why is everyone..."
Static this time, hardly any image viewable "...even recognise..." Erik wondered
if Micky was messing about. "..magnetic message device I found and threw it at
you before I..." Micky dissapeared for good.
Erik knew there was nothing he could do about this. He would have to make his
way slowly across the rubble and debris everywhere to find someone that could
help him.
As his optical processors surveyed the scene, a spark in his cicuits brought the
image of a battlefield from the second world war into his memories. He had no
clue why and made an error report with the outcome of 'service required' then
stored it for a later date.
Slowly starting toward what looked like life hundreds of meters away in the dust
cloud, he wished he had legs and arms. It would make life a lot easier.
Then he remembered he was just an AI and stopped thinking, feeling...
... and wishing.
"0001 1011 1000 0000 1101 0100 0001"
<Tag!>
<P.S. I'm back. Sorry for taking so long. If you find Erik, you have to deal
with the consequences!>