Science Fiction

The Outsider

I have often wondered as to what exactly keeps the human race alive and ticking and the answer which keeps coming back to me is pretty simple – their thirst for violence and division. Humans rarely enjoy harmony and getting divided or branded is something they incredibly enjoy. They seem to be getting more disconnected from their soul or consciousnesses or whatever they call their inner programming, with the passage of time. I often chuckle at the fact that segments of human population often threaten each other with adverse consequences like wiping out a section from the place they call home. With their never-ending materialistic lust and absolute disregard for every other living organism on planet M-5 they never cease to amaze me as a species.

I sit on top of a cliff and go through the events lined up for the day. Two groups are supposedly having an encounter sometime soon. This is no different from the countless other reports I have prepared earlier. I, RX-891 have been doing this duty for the past 900 years as per the human time-frame. Once I had a hunch that things might get better when humans tapped into sources of energy which we call ‘Zlata’ and humans refer to as ‘Electricity’. To my amusement, they started exploiting each other even more by producing weapons and dividing each other on the basis of paper currencies at an inconceivable pace.

Team one arrives in front of me all prepared with their fireworks. Draped in weapons and bullets they seem ready for the big match ahead. I turn on my receptors to record every single instance which will serve as yet another precious case study. They seem to discuss their strategies screaming out slogans dedicated to the ‘GOD’ they trust in. What a joke, I cannot help but chuckle. A few steps ahead lay the fence which is supposedly the border for the two chunks of people living on either side of it.

I zoom in to notice what exactly is happening on the other side. Dressed in uniform which resemble the trees around me, this group seems to be unaware of what beholds them in a while. With elevated pieces of cloth on their head I can notice them enjoying the charred flesh of a bird along with intoxicants. They seem relatively happy and I can even see one of them engaged in playing a percussive instrument and I cannot help but say I like the music. This is something us, people of DVG-822 do not have any clue of.

The sound of bullet ricochets through the air. Team one draws first blood. Team two is completely taken aback. Flabbergasted, team two make a rush for their weapons leaving their food and music behind. Too bad, I was just starting to enjoy the music.

What follows next is a mundane game of human mindlessness. I hear war cry and see bodies falling. I see people unaware of each other slaughtering each other mercilessly. When I started out, they relied on arrows and swords, now they are fond of the bullet. An absolute time saver if I must say. The blood on the soil, the butchery and the impudence with which it is carried out is all too familiar to me. I get up and cue at my vehicle floating somewhere above. Time to leave this war drenched zone and return to my home.  I once had a glimmer of hope for planet M-5 but that has been obliterated long back. When will they learn? When will they change? Counting bodies to the rhythm of a war drum seems a monotonous job at times.

Rupajyoti Dutta | PGDM 2016-18