Free Silicon Man by William Massa Page A

feline’s rescue a mech, paint gun still in hand, stepped in. The android’s voice was low and soothing as he tried to calm the frightened cat.
    “Relax, little one. Everything is going to be alright.” Cole was shocked to hear the words of encouragement coming from a machine’s lips. A moment later, the cat was free and darted off into the shadows. A satisfied smile lit up the mech's face.  
    A shadow fell on the good Samaritan. One of the overseers had arrived. There was no warmth in the man’s eyes as he addressed the mech. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  
    The android remained silent, unwilling to explain his actions.  
    “You know what happens when you don't work? We fall behind schedule!”  
    The energy baton in the supervisor’s hand flashed out and made contact with the mech’s chest. He crumpled to his knees in a burst of electricity and dropped his paint gun.  
    “And if we fall behind schedule, guess what happens...”
    The overseer zapped the downed mech again. “I lose my bonus!”
    Bloodlust stirred, he was about to deliver a third blow when Cole’s hand closed around his wrist and halted the baton's descent.  
    “Screw your fucking bonus!”
    Cole pried the electro-baton from the overseer's grip and zapped him, giving the bully a taste of his own medicine. As the overseer’s muscles contracted and gave out, he collapsed to the floor. A heaving bundle, he choked up his breakfast. Furious curses were mixed in with the loud retching noises.  
    Cole was becoming the center of attention. The other mechs, about twenty units, had ceased their work. They stood in silence, eyes fastened on Cole. Shocked or impressed by his blatant act of defiance, a direct violation of all their programming.  
    The mech who liberated the cat rose to his feet and faced Cole. He sounded contrite as he addressed Cole.
    “You shouldn't have interfered. They'll deactivate you for sure.”  
    “We'll see about that,” Cole said. He sensed the moment had come to make his move. With any luck, one of the androids watching this was linked to the Underground Network.  
    Cole scooped up the paint gun that the mech dropped and stepped up to the nearest wall. The paint gun hissed as he sprayed a message across a black, marked up wall. Three fiery red letters bled down the wall, spelling the battle cry of mech defiance.
    I AM .  
    Cole was surprised to find that he wasn’t just going through the motions. His days at the construction site had been a series of injustices and abuses that was only compounded by the total isolation he had experienced. Stopping the overseer and unleashing the graffiti felt cathartic. They weren’t just words. He actually felt them and welcomed the chance to release all his pent-up rage. For a brief second he wondered whether this was how the other mechs felt, how they experienced the world.  
    He fought back any feeling of empathy. He was warned that this could happen, that he might go native and start identifying with his target. He reminded himself what separated him from the other mechs. There was one crucial difference between them. They were machines . He, on the other hand, was a ghost in the machine, a man hitching a ride inside a robot body. He had to hold on to this knowledge and not ever forget it or he was done for.
    His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fast-approaching footsteps — work-boots slapping concrete. A phalanx of overseers surged toward Cole. The mech he helped regarded him with newfound urgency.  
    “Run!”
    Cole heeded the mech's advice and exploded into motion. He surged towards a nearby staircase. The shouts behind him picked up in volume and so did the footsteps. The overseers were in hot pursuit. He could feel their rage as they shouted into their coms, alerting all the other overseers as to what had transpired. Cole realized they were going to make an example of him. No mech raised a hand against one of their own without paying the