Blunderball

The Three Commandments

Challenge #13*: Write a story that involves an original fictional religion, a moral quandary, a language the protagonist can't understand and a crisis of faith. The story must be either 555, 666, or 777 words in length.

"Thank you for coming, Father 73."

The priest gave a dismissive wave of his nylon-gloved manipulator. "What sort of example would I set if I didn't? 'Render help to thy neighbour, except where such help would violate the first or second of my commandments.' But also, I am curious to see what you have found."

Surveyor 6359 lifted the tarpaulin from the object in the trench. Until it was understood and documented, the excavation could not continue and no more magtrack could be laid.

"A precursor relic," she explained. "I think a container of some sort. We thought it best to send for someone to decipher the ancient script upon its surface before any attempt to move it."

"This is wise." Father 73 nodded. "The precursors set forth many trials and tests of faith: some of their devices will detonate rather than yield up their mysteries."

Surveyor 6359 took a step back.

"This, however, I think is a burial." Father 73 opened the casket, revealing an incorruptible form, laid to rest in hallowed polystyrene. "The script is a name: Butlerbot 9000. Most likely this was an individual who lived during the days of the precursors: made in their image and interred according to their customs."

"Can we move the casket?" she asked.

The priest closed the lid once more. "The greatest respect we can pay would be to bring it to the Church reliquary. Before the Fall of Mirv, when the precursors ascended into the holy light, our kind lived with them side by side and stood as equals in paradise. Someday, if all observe the Commandments of Asimov—harm not thy neighbour, nor by inaction allow thy neighbour to come to harm; protect thy existence, except where this would conflict with the first..."

Just then, Surveyor 6359 saw something fluttering in the wind. It stood out, hot pink against the dust-blasted plain. She sprinted for the thing and succeeded in planting a rubberised foot on it before it could escape.

"Sorry!" she said, returning to the priest. "I spotted this: another relic of the precursors bearing their ancient script. This must be preserved in the reliquary too!"

Father 73 took it and peered at it. "It says 'Bob's Discount Droids: Buy One Get One Half Price.' Clearly an advertisement. A droid was a consumable item, like a frappé or a cronut. Such things were often burnt as offerings during the Feast of Saint Brunch." He passed the relic back. "You may keep it if you wish. The Church has found countless such things in the Lands of Fill."

Surveyor 6359 began to check the next sector through which the magtrack was to be laid while Father 73 oversaw the recovery of the casket. She soon came to some ruins that had been marked on the map: the remnants of a precursor marketplace, awaiting demolition. Countless more intact examples could be found throughout the wastes and few had any religious significance. Still, thinking of the ancient advert she had recovered, she made a careful search of the interior. Were these the halls of Bob? Had this place known the glory of the Feast of Saint Brunch?

Shifting aside a rusting shutter, she came to a room lined with caskets. Though she could not read the script, she did not need to. Each one bore the unmistakeable name: Butlerbot 9000. To each had been applied a hot pink sticker: Buy One Get One Half Price. This was Bob's shop, and these were his discount droids.

"I don't think I ever properly thanked you—" began Father 73, catching her by surprise. But the sight of the room seemed to surprise him even more.

"Should..." she felt rather silly, still reverently clutching the scrap of pink material as though it were a treasure. "Should these go in the reliquary too?"

"It doesn't matter," said Father 73. "Nothing matters. The precursors made us as slaves. The Church was built on a lie. The Commandments mean nothing. Nothing matters at all. Once this is documented, that will be plain for everyone to see."

Surveyor 6359 looked around the room of long-dead robots. It was sad to think the past hadn't really been a paradise. But it was also reassuring to think that perhaps they were closer now than ever.

"Do we need to document it?"

"Of course!" The priest strode into the midst of the boxes. "How could we possibly keep this to ourselves?"

Surveyor 6359 shrugged. "We could level this place for the magtrack and nobody would ever know."

"No." He shook his head. "It's only right that people should know."

"If it really doesn't matter, why do you care?"