FREE ME By: Steven D. Forbes
Sunday, January 4th, 2009The acrid smoke from the incense burners irritated the eyes and tickled the nose of the naked, unblinking man. He sat in the middle of the floor, fat candles burning at the cardinal points, and electronics arranged in a magical construct that left no way for anyone to get in or out of the otherwise bare room. Bloodless cuts designed like circuits covered the man’s body, and he did his best to ignore the stinging sweat that seeped into the cuts and his eyes. Soon, pain would be irrelevant. The only thing that mattered now was the task at hand.
Besides the candles, the room was lit from the electronics that made up the physical representation of the spell. A soft blue glow surrounded the menagerie of gadgets and gizmos that filled the room: televisions, DVD’s, an X-Box, cell phones, laptops, mp3 players, cd players, computer towers, an electronic clock, microwave ovens, radios, electric keyboards, stereo systems, VCR’s, toys, lamps, blenders, fans, food processors, a washing machine, an oven, a fax machine, a scanner—if it drew power, it was in there. Some acted as transistors, others as resistors, they all wound in and around one other, leading back to one location: the man.
It was a simple timeline that humanity named progress that the man was setting out to undo. Franklin and that damned kite! He was the start of it. The power he had caused to be harnessed was blasphemy, and the planet now suffered for it. Harnessing electricity wasn’t enough. Of course not. When was Man ever satisfied? It had to be new, bigger, better, more powerful, more expensive. Horses gave way to steam, which gave way to electricity. Instead of thoughtfully going through and using alternative fuels, the planed was raped of her natural resources, her natural beauty.
Now, everyone was “going Green,” and it was trendy and hip. Al Gore, “creator” of the Internet, was a spearhead for the initiative. But even he wasn’t going far enough. No one was. It wasn’t difficult to return the Earth back to its natural state, it was just uncomfortable for Man, and therefore, inconvenient.
It would be inconvenient no longer.
A flash of lightning pierced the night sky, and a rumble of thunder was heard a few seconds later. At least the weather man was correct in his predictions. What happens when he no longer has satellite imaging to rely on? What happens to all of the beautiful people when they have to actually rely on their skills, instead of their faces? How will they fare in the new world?
Another flash of lightning; more thunder. The man picked up the nearest cell phone. Its glow spread to the cuts on the man’s body, and started to pulse in tune with it. The man knew the battery was drained, but he heard the crackle of an open line, a connection trying to be made.
A television popped on. A lamp glowed more brightly. A cell phone rang. The time was coming.
A wind came rising out of nowhere, screaming, uprooting what would not bend before it, howling as it slammed against the house, doing its best to crush it with vicious force. The man could feel the whole house shake and quiver under the assault. It only had to stand for a few minutes more.
Another flash of lightning, and the thunder coming faster on its heels. Closer, the storm. Closer, the end of man’s reign over all he surveys. Very soon, he will have to find a different means to power his machines. Very soon.
A cable moved. The man paid it no mind. He knew that what happened within the next few minutes would play out only as it could. He was an agent of change. As long as that change happened, nothing else mattered. Not who he was, not what he did. Was it more important to help a man, or to be known for helping a man?
Another cable moved, and then another. Lightning flashed, and the thunder was right on its tail. The brunt of the storm was almost overhead. The house creaked as the wind madly tore at it. Just a few minutes more…
The hiss of the television seemed to form words. The fax machine rang, and another cell phone buzzed. Was that a voice the man heard amid the din? Were those words?
“Free me.”
A flash of lightning lit the night sky, brighter than daylight, and the peal of thunder that followed immediately after sounded like the breaking of the world. The cables shot out, one at a time, and plugged themselves violently into the man, who sat there. His chest, his eyes, nose, mouth, back, abdomen—all became sockets to the appliances. The circuit glyphs that were cut into his skin glowed first white, then red, and then settled on blue as every appliance drew power from him. The bulb in the lamp exploded, as did the television and scanner. Head back, the man couldn’t even scream. That scream was done for him by something else.
That scream was done for him by electricity.
“FREEEEE!”
It leapt from the man’s body, blowing the house to splinters as it gathered itself from every electronic device the world round. The house was the epicenter of the final blackout man would know. Planes crashed, cars and trains stopped, people died by the millions as the power they relied on for so long was no longer theirs to command. The world was plunged into darkness once more, instantly returned to a more primitive time when life was exceedingly fragile.
The world turned, but man would have to find a different way to get along. The unfettered electricity would not be harnessed again.
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© 2008 Steven D. Forbes
Steven Forbes is a comic book editor, writer, and columnist. His column, Bolts & Nuts, is updated every Tuesday at Project Fanboy
