Free Silicon Man by William Massa

threatened to whisk him away in a wave of paranoia and encroaching madness. Trying to calm himself, his voice a low whisper, he desperately clung to his humanity by mouthing a steady mantra. “My name is Cole Marsalis. My name is Cole Marsalis...”
    One of the overseers barked at him. “Shut up, mech!”
    Cole grew silent. He was drowning and there was no one around to save him.

    ***

    After two more weeks, Cole knew he was losing his mind. His grasp on reality had become tenuous. His old life kept slipping away and receding into the past while his new reality consumed every moment of the waking day. His day-to-day experience of life had changed on every level, from the work he did to the way people perceived him and how he physically processed the world. He didn’t need food — in fact, he no longer experienced hunger — but he missed the flavors. He had not realized how many little aches and pains had been part of his day-to-day existence in a flesh-and-blood body. He was always aware of a sore back, a bruised knee… As a machine, all those minor discomforts were gone.  
    The irony wasn’t lost on him. Physically, he had never felt better, but psychologically… he would have gladly traded physical discomfort for peace of mind. Pain at least meant he was alive, that he was human.  
    The days were blurring together in their repetitive sameness, part of a Sisyphean cycle. Once charged, Cole and the other mechs were transported to the construction site. Twelve hours of grueling labor followed, but, to a mech, it was work without effort. Cole’s android body didn’t feel exhaustion or suffer the normal wear and tear of a hard day’s work. The tasks were challenging yet repetitive, requiring focus and attention to detail in the face of growing boredom. Once the day wrapped, the workers returned to their charging cradles, only for the cycle to repeat itself the next day.
    The sole break in the routine came from his dreams or, more accurately, his nightmares. Each night they only worsened. As a human being, many of his dreams would be vague memories that faded before he woke up. As a machine, his subconscious wasn’t able to repress anything. His recall was perfect and each dream played out with the stunning force of a fresh experience. The power of his past was imbued with a terrible new life.  
    What helped Cole stay the course was the underlying purpose for all of this — the mission. Each day, he reminded himself why he was enduring these trials. It was all to get at the machine that took his loved ones from him. This suffering would eventually be worthwhile.  
    These silent reminders grounded and centered Cole, but with each passing day it was getting more difficult to keep it together. The time spent inside his android body was wearing him down, fraying his mind into ragged pieces. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this miserable, surreal existence.
    The turning point came twenty days after his arrival at the construction site. The tenth floor was a beehive of activity, mechs engaged in the routines of the day. Cole had become indistinguishable from the other mechs. He was welding rivets to a steel beam when a shrill sound broke his trancelike state. Other mechs paused, their curiosity piqued. If he didn’t know better, Cole would have sworn that the androids were eager for a break from their endless routine.
    Cole stopped what he was doing and followed the hissing sound. He took a few steps and grew still, having identified the noise. It was a stray cat. The hapless creature had somehow gotten itself entangled in some netting and construction material. Its frightened cries echoed through the skeletal building.  
    Cole wondered how the cat had managed to climb ten stories in the first place. The displaced earth around the skyscraper must have evicted hordes of mice from their underground tunnels, turning the area into an irresistible buffet for stray cats.  
    Before Cole could come to the