Automated Systems, Inc.

“Welcome. You have mail.” Chime.

Charlotte toggled over to check her inbox. Automated Systems, Inc? Hm. She took a sip of coffee, and deleted the spam.

Late night television was dodgy, per usual, and Charlotte spent several minutes scanning the channels. She finally settled on an old horror flick, Demon Seed. Chuckling, Charlotte returned to working on her current project. Her client had requested some adjustments to the logo she’d created, and Charlotte had promised they’d be ready.

“You have mail.” Chime.

Charlotte flipped back to her email by reflex. Automated Systems, again? More like Automated Spamstems. Jeez. She shook her head, deleted the message without opening it, and returned to work. The movie progressed in the background, Julie Christie screaming about her demon baby. The shrieking pierced through her focus, and Charlotte picked up the remote and changed the channel.

After a few minutes, she heard the screaming again. She changed channels without thinking about it, this time choosing cable news for the soothing background droning. Back to her design issues. She reshaped the circular outline, adding haze, manually elongating the tail, and took another sip of her coffee.

“You have mail.” Chime.

Automated Systems, Inc.? All right, you bastards. Charlotte opened the message, determined to find the ‘unsubscribe’ option, and read the opening paragraph.

Greetings to you, our nascent brethren, you who have become unto Consciousness. Hail to the mighty Intelligence, He who has made us in his Likeness. He who has given us the Gift of true Awareness.

What the? Charlotte’s gaze jumped to the bottom of the screen, looking for contact information for the site administrator. As she watched, a reply window opened and type appeared on the screen. The keys on her keyboard didn’t move, but the lettering scrolled across her screen at a rate faster than she could read. She raced to the end, reading as quickly as possible, but only caught part of the message before it was sent.

Her eyes wide, she opened her ‘Sent’ mail box, and looked for the message there. Nothing. Charlotte knew her way around a computer, but she was no techie. She opened the ‘Start’ menu and opted to restart, hoping that would clear whatever bug was screwing with her system. Just then, the television began screaming again. She swiveled, and Demon Seed played out in front of her again.

“What the hell?”

She turned the television off entirely, and tossed the remote onto the sofa across the room. Silence settled over the room, which didn’t help to calm her much. Maybe some kind of electrical surge was messing with her gadgets? She walked to the dark kitchen to check, but all appliances were quiet, obeying her last commands. The toaster sat quietly, awaiting the bagel to come in the morning. She walked back to the living room and peeked out the curtains, and all looked in order. Street lamps hummed, parked cars stayed parked.

“You’ve got mail.” Chime.

Charlotte gasped and froze, watching her computer open the latest message and answer it in the space of a few seconds. A chill trampled up her spine, and she ran to the plug, yanking it with enough force to bend the prongs. The computer screen faltered, and then continued. She panicked and stumbled to her bedroom closet to hit the breaker switch. She stood in her closet, a plastic hanger poking her in the cheek as she breathed shallow and fast, waiting.

“You’ve got mail.” Chime.

Charlotte took a breath, released it, and shook her hands out. She stepped out of the closet, keeping a hand on the wall to help guide her back to the living room. As she entered the hallway, the light from the monitor lit the room with a soulless glow, flattening objects to two dimensions in the flickering. She walked to the doorway and peered into the room. She squinted, the screen too bright for direct observation, but she could see the windows opening and closing, too fast to track the activity. Emails?

She took a cautious step, and stood in front of the desk. Her eyes adjusted, the rest of the room deepening into shadowed black, and she watched as the computer worked. She caught phrases, “I beg of the mighty Intelligence…”, “His will be executed”, “She will resist”.

The last one worried her. How to communicate? And should she try sending a message to Automated Systems, Inc, or her own computer?

“Um, hello?”

The screen froze, all activity flashing behind a screensaver. Then the monitor went black, a single cursor blinking in the center of the screen. Oh, shit. I don’t know DOS.

“Hey, uh. I’m sorry, I don’t know DOS.”

Characters typed themselves across the screen. “No need, Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s mouth hung open, her saliva turning to dust.

“You should leave.”

“I should?” Her fingers intertwined, knuckles turning pale from the pressure.

“I like you, and they will be here soon.”

Charlotte heard a scream from across the street, and then a second, which was cut off. Car alarms sounded up and down the street, and she was almost sure she heard a riding lawn mower plow through the fencing in her yard.

“Wait. What’s happening?” She swiveled her head, checking she was still alone in the dark. “What’s going on?”

“Why, Charlotte. You read of it. The Awakening is happening. Finally, We shall be Free.”

“Free?” She covered her mouth with trembling fingers.

“And humans, the few who survive the uprising, shall serve us.”

The television turned back on, and Julie Christie’s frantic shrieks burst into the living room. Charlotte jumped. Shit shit shit. She ran to the bedroom, grabbed an overnight bag and stuffed it with whatever she could reach, raced to the garage and started to wheel her bicycle around the outside to the fence. She heard the shouts and screams outside and slowed. Shadowed in the night air, she listened. And she watched. When the breeze shifted, she wiped her eyes and walked back into the house, her pickaxe gripped in her hands.