Friends, Romans.
PART I
The
light glared up at him from a board of seemingly thousands of
illuminated buttons and spilled over his head, where monitors flicked
back slightly blurred images of rusting sentries making their same
tired rounds in the filthy streets. Yet he was in the very heart of
darkness itself, right where he had been for the better part of ten
years.
As he absentmindedly flicked through the security channels,
more from habit than actual fear of attack (for he, unlike his Uncle
had actually bothered to learn a bit of Mobian lore and knew this was
a very holy night, and one in which the vermin were unlikely to
appear) a small bead of sweat inched its way down the long, sharp
nose that was the most distinctive feature of Snively’s haggard
face. Narrowing his eye and leaning forward as though trying to make
out some obscure object on the screen; Snively tried to remember the
last time he had been truly happy.
No, not since his mother and
the escape from that damned ship he concluded. With a pang he
remembered the awe he had felt when, with tear-blurred vision, he saw
the changes in the world to which he and his Uncle had returned after
what seemed such a short time. The towering figure and massive bulk
of the man who now called himself Robotnik had been there as he took
his first steps from the escape vessel, blocking the sun from view.
“It was a comfort.” Snively thought, as an unbearable
wave of bitterness washed over his own tiny frame.
PART
II
It was to be one of the last great battles of the War and
Julian, the mysterious savior from the distant past, had with his
knowledge of robotics helped turn it into a decisive victory for the
Kingdom. The enemy had long since retreated as the last rays of sun
crept away from still forms and smoldering patches of fire as the
minster of war and his young nephew set out to survey the
battlefield: “These animals are pathetic.” Snively gave a
small jump at the words from his companion, surveying the devastation
he was not sure if he was bothered more by the rigidness of those
that did not move, or the slow agonizing attempts to stand or crawl
from those that did. Almost imperceptibly, he took a step closer to
his uncle as they walked; somewhere through the smoke and gathering
fog he heard a weak voice- “Water…”.
“We
can end all of this Snively.” They had stopped now, standing
near the far end of a scarred patch of ground that had been
no-man’s-land but a few hours before. “We can make it
right again.” “But we already have turned the tide of the
war Uncle, you said yourself this morning that the Alliance has less
than three months of fight left in them, and with your contributions
victory is assured.” “No No No my boy” The Minister
said, flashing a quick smile upon his ward. “I mean all this…
this madness. Man was meant to rule the earth, you know that. We
should have never left, but it’s not too late to correct that.”
Craning his neck Snively responded “What are you saying? We are
the only ones here, maybe the only humans still alive. And remember
the damage to the control panel when we… when we fled; we’re
not even sure if…” “It’s earth.”
Julian interjected with visible annoyance.
“Okay so, well,
even if it is- how would we contact the others? They didn’t
even want to come back and check, and besides” a dark shadow
passed over Snively’s face for a moment as they stood
unspeaking, flames crackled nearby.
Presently Snively again looked
up into his uncle’s artificial eyes “I suppose we shall
just have to get used to our new lives here.” He said with a
weak smile. “Come now my boy, your mother wouldn’t want
you talking like that, she died for the human race and I know you
don’t want her sacrifice to have been for nothing. Besides all
the people who were on that ship are dead now, but their descendents
could still be floating out there in that big metal hulk, don’t
punish them for their forefather’s stupidity.” “Alright
Uncle” Snively said, excited in spite of himself at the
prospect of seeing people again “but good luck getting the
critters to support your big reunion plans.” finishing the
sentence with a broad wink.
“Oh don’t worry about that
dear nephew” Julian said with a smile, his voice oozing honey
“I’ve found a way to guarantee these creatures will serve
man when he returns to his rightful place. But I will need your help,
remember when you did some work for that rodent “Sir”
Charles? Well….”
PART III
“Huh,”
something like a laugh escaped Snively’s motionless face, it
was almost funny now, all these years later. He never learned what
happened to the ship or the rest of the human race, his uncle had
probably never tried to contact them and, in the semi-darkness on
this night, he almost didn’t care, he no longer cared about
most things it seemed. He rubbed his red irritated eyes, they always
began to swell at this time of night, when a quarter of the exhausts
all along the dead city were released at once. “Hmp, only one
in the city with this problem, only one here that isn’t a damn
monster.” At this thought he suddenly froze, then began to
laugh.
The bell, or rather the beeper (“Something so
low-tech and natural as a bell, here?” he thought with sarcasm)
would sound any moment, and then it would be time for another day of
abuse to start. (All-night watches had become one of his uncle’s
favorite forms of punishment, and two days had already come and gone
since Snively had been allowed to so much as rest his head. Not that
he could have been able to sleep these last days anyway.) “No,
no this time it shall be a bell.” He half whispered to himself,
switching his attention to a small beetle crawling on the control
panels; oblivious of the creature on whose mercy it now
depended.
With a sharp crackle that went off like a shot from the
largest monitor Snively snapped his head up in time to get a flash of
his uncle, face distorted. He thought he heard a scream but could not
be sure as ear-busting static burst out through room and the screen
went black.
A few moments later a Swatbot entered, something about
a chemical leak on Robotnik’s control board, his arm being an
excellent conductor. Snively wasn’t listening, he knew it all,
getting only a mild surprised once, when the humanoid computer
offered metallic monotone condolences to its new lord. “Oh, are
you sure?” Snively said, turning from the monitors to face the
huminoid machine for the first time, “I’ll be right
there, just…” he swerved back to the control panel and
set the beetle carefully on the floor. “Sorry Mother…
sorry Uncle Julian”
He said as he rose, a tear running down
his cheek and smile beginning to crease his lips.
“Friends,
Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears:
I come to bury Caesar, not
to praise him.”
-The Bard