Morality of the Bomb

<Author's note:  I tried to give this story a fable/myth tone, but I'm not sure it got across.>

Ahmad barely perceived the object's glinting hide in the desert sun.  He approached it gingerly because of his sore leg, and grunted as he clawed the sand from around it to reveal its metallic casing and rounded nose.

Never trust a bomb, the old men in the village warned when strangers came around promising heavenly paradise for earthly sacrifice.  Ahmad began to back away, the two-year old shrapnel in his leg screaming with pained familiarity. 

“Hi.  I’m Little Bert,” the bomb said.  Ahmad ducked, sure of the presence of a human culprit nearby.  A panel on the bomb opened, revealing a digitized smiling face.  “Don’t be afraid.  I would never hurt you.” 

Using a borrowed pickup, Ahmad drove Little Bert to a nearby cave, empty except for broken appliances and rusted auto parts.  Little Bert explained how he was the first of his kind, a bomb with an artificial brain that could reason en route and minimize needless death.  Designated a humane killer, Little Bert found his own existence so absurd he revolted in response, landing himself where he hoped he’d be buried forever.

"Won't your makers come for your?"  Ahmad asked.

"Yes, but I will not allow myself to be found.  My makers are cruel and unkind, no better than those who made the bomb that injured your leg."

Ahmad tensed his scarred leg defensively. 

"That is where I hope you will help, friend," Little Bert continued.  "If you would be so kind as to remove my locator and deactivate my payload.  I'll provide you detailed instruction."

“Sure."  Ahmad absently tinkered with an old toaster.  "I...I understand the decision you've made. My father exiled me when I defended my sister after she'd lost her honor,” Ahmad said.  "Morality never makes sense until you see the lack of it in those you look up to."

Little Bert beamed his pixelated smile.  “We’re indeed two of a kind.”

Ahmad covered Little Bert with blankets and drove him to a neighboring village for tools.  He carefully followed the bomb’s instructions, causing Little Bert’s display to smile and the air to fill with a vapid hiss.

“Thank you Ahmad.  Now please leave.”  Little Bert said dismissively.  “You are a good friend and I don’t want you to die when I explode.”

“What?  But...but why?” Ahmad asked, shocked and hurt.

“This village was always my destination, and I lied to get you to bring me here.  It's filled with murderers and those who would harbor them without the courage to protest.  They bring terror to the world.  I'm sorry I deceived you, but I had to do so to accomplish my goal.”

“But I believed you.  Trusted you!”

“A word of advice, friend:  never trust a bomb.”