The androids’ treads grind through the littered soil, their arms meticulously handling needles and other silver instruments. A sunrise, pink and orange custard splashed and oozing over the horizon, casts shapely shadows on the white, tubular bodies of the androids. The landscape is packed with neat rows of beds. Each bed is different, as if pulled from another world. Perhaps they were once. A giant tugging of realities into convergence here, today. Some beds are small, some large, some with quilts or comforters, some simply cots with rusted metal poles stuck in the dirt. In each bed, a person. This is a world without consciousness.

So why am I awake?

A bright blue sensor glows in front of my face. There is a needle in my arm. “Hello,” the android attached to the blue light recites. “You. Are. Janice. Biot?” I don’t remember my name, but I nod. “Come. With. Me.” Its words are broken up, making it’s voice entirely emotionless.

I pull the needle from my arm and rise from my wooden framed bed. My bare toes make a crunchy contact with the earth. All I’m wearing are pink shorts and a black crop top that cuts off in a jagged line above my belly button. My pale body feels different since I last walked. When was that?

“We. Are…” says the android as it leads me down a hill, “Preserving. The. Human. Race.”

I feel my mouth filling with pressure, restoring its ability to speak. “Why?” I say.

The robot’s programmed reply comes quickly. “We. Care.”
I analyze its sleek, white body. On the side it says: “The Preservation in the Event of an Apocalypse Institute. We Care.” I shudder. What happened to this world?
“Where are you taking me?” I ask the android. It is silent. I repeat, “Where are you taking me?” I’m not sure if the droid can’t hear me, if it’s ignoring me, or if it’s programmed not to answer certain questions, but all the same, it makes me angry. “Where are you taking me?” I scream. It doesn’t seem to phase the android. It stops. So I stop and watch the red dust churn and settle under the treads of the robot as it rolls away, saying, “Wait.”
I wait.
Suddenly, blue lights pour forth out of the gathering dust cloud, and dozens of droids swarm at me, needles and talons fast approaching. My mind races, struggling to keep ahead of the androids. “I care too!” I shout. The bots shiver and go limp. I breathe deeply, ignoring the dust, letting my self shake with coughs. The still androids chorus, “We. Are. Close. To. Failure. Help. Us. Janice. Biot. You. Are. The. Queen.” A hint of pity hides in their fragmentary notes, and the robots collapse. I step backwards as I watch them fall, still and straight, into the ruptured earth. As they hit the dust, clouds ruffle beneath them, like form-fitting mattresses. Perhaps they are just going to sleep. I want to go back to sleep.
I sit in the dirt thinking for a while. Eventually, the sun is directly above me, searing my skin. All I know is they called me a queen. Queens must have plans, even if they don’t know what they are queens of.
An android limps into view. Its furious eyes flashing briefly from blue to red. It starts to laugh. My blood feels heavy with fear. I am paralyzed. Black spots dance at the edge of my vision. My hand, without my consent, reaches out to touch my waist. I brush my skin away from the white metal now visible beneath it. Flakes of skin meet the dust, particles of a cold outer layer. Metal, now exposed, reads “We Care.” The android cackles as its shell of a body splits open, exposing a young boy crouching inside. He steps out uncertainly. I tread towards him, a scalpel emerging from my chest. My humanity has gone, and I’m being controlled by something much worse than instinct. “Well,” I say in an automated voice as the boy falls to the ground and covers his head, “That. Has. Turned. Things. Around.” He shivers in fear. “Hasn’t. It?”