3001: Design of Doom
Written on November 25, 2020
“The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect, but by the play instinct arising from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the object it loves.” —Carl Jung
SHE TOOK A DEEP BREATH and sighed. In a gentle and steady manner, she brushed her hair with her fingers.
The engineer nodded her head at the design of doom. It moved itself closer to the engineer’s main network. From there it was able to collect all data on her boss.
She bent down when she spotted a few shadows walk past the kaleidoscopic glass. She sighed. That was close.
She typed away on the glass keyboard. The system recognized her finger prints. She smiled. She had to make sure her plan did not fail.
After all her efforts in providing her boss, Bob, with the ICE (International Connective Engineering) systems, he had taken advantage of her works and used them to build his own company.
Then he ended up hiring her as one of the other group of engineers. He would regret ever treating her like garbage.
With her latest creation, she was going to face Bob. Well, it was going to do most, or all, of the work on her behalf. She transferred all the necessary details and a collection of all the company’s data to the design of doom’s memory.
It had infinite storage and picked up new set of skills in a nanosecond.
She quietly clapped her hands. She clasped her hands and smiled. Bob was not going to get his hands on her design of doom. This was something she definitely would not let him grab from her.
The design of doom blinked at its creator. It watched her every movement and listened to her voice, too. The calm and soothing tone.
Meanwhile, Bob was pacing back and forth in his office. His security team walked in and he turned his body to face them.
‘‘Tell me you managed to get rid of her.’’
The leader of the team shook his head. Bob screamed.
‘‘That’s not what I wanted to hear. You better find out where she is...before I release my hellhounds on you!’’
The security team shuddered. None of them wanted to face the mechanical beasts. They felt as if they were working for Lucifer.
Later at the end of the day, Bob had left his office and was in his car on his way home. His car was another one of the engineer’s creation. It did not require a person to manage it.
As long as it could register the sound of the car owner’s voice, it would be able to be turned on and from there once a route was selected it was capable of automatically getting to the final destination on its own.
Bob leaned his head to check the map. He was almost home. As soon as they arrived at the gate, the car was scanned and the gate opened.
The car moved slowly down the driveway and quickly stopped. Bob went flying out of his seat and hit the dashboard.
‘What’s going on with this car?’ He shook his head as he wondered what could have made the car suddenly stop just as they had arrived near his place.
Several minutes passed by and the car still remained in park. Bob hit the dashboard and told the car to continue to drive. There was no response.
He decided to kick the door and head to his place on foot. The car would not allow him to step foot outside. Bob heard a whistle from the back of his seat.
He turned to see who was in his car. The moment he saw it, he screamed. It stretched its arms and moved its hands across Bob’s neck.
The car then moved slowly and increased its speed. It went flying off the ground and then landed in the lake near Bob’s place.
The design of doom saw Bob gasp for air. He looked at the thing and wanted to scream. But his neck had been twisted by its hands and he could not even breathe quite well anymore.
He squinted his eyes as if to say, ‘I will not let you win.’ The design of doom smiled and said, “The engineer told me to tell you that you do not need to worry about the company. It is in great hands.” Bob choked on his blood and took his final breath.
The engineer watched Bob take his last breath from the monitors in her lab. The design of doom sent her the live footage of Bob’s last moment on earth in the 31st century.