Automaton Checkpoint

Clouds and rain of six days finally cleared.  The sun cast long shadows of crumbling buildings across a bombed out city landscape.

A lone automaton stood as duty guard, its titanium frame reflecting the sun’s presence as its ever-vibrant sensors scanned its 180-degree responsibility.

A dusty and disheveled war weary infantryman approached.  He lifted his head to focus on the seven foot robot’s face. His eyes revealed with weight of countless battles.  Stopping a few feet from the gleaming guard, he raised his hands in a gesture peace.

“Uh, huh,” said the guard.  In a cold and metallic sounding voice, devoid of any emotion he continued.  “Identity, please, and state your purpose.”

The soldier responded, his voice hoarse.  “Sergeant Frank Connors… trying to get back to… my unit.  Stationed… just up the road a bit… I think.”

The automaton’s sensors whirred as it processed Sergeant Connors’ answer.  “ID, please.”

Connors fumbled through his frayed pockets, handing his ID paper to the guard.

After a few moments of scanning, he nodded.  “You have the authorization to pass,” and he stepped aside.

Frank paused, wondering if… “Do you ever get tired?” surprising himself with the question.

“Rather rhetorical, don’t you think? Why should I get tired.  We don’t experience fatigue, and I am designed to function continuously.”

Frank forced a smile, wondering if such an expression might piss off the 24/7 all-business bundle of electronics.  “Must be nice,” he muttered.  “No fear, no exhaustion.  Just… duty.”

The automaton’s sensors scanned Frank.  “You are injured.  You require assistance?”

Frank glanced at his left hand, which he’d temporarily wrapped a strip of his T-shirt around. Blood was visible soaking through. “Oh, this. It''s just a hand. No problem. It only hurts when I try to use it. I’ll manage. I just need to get back to my unit.”

The automaton’s gaze followed Frank as he unsteadily walked past.  “You''re fatigued, Sergeant,” his voice softer, almost human.

Frank paused and turned back.  “Thanks,” he said with a hint of warmth in his voice. 
“You stay safe, as well.  Ya hear?”

The automaton shrugged.

As Sergeant Connors disappeared into the haze of a desperate sun reaching through the war zone shadows, the automaton resumed its watch.

Sergeant Connors glanced again over his shoulder at the sentry and smiled. For a brief moment, in the midst of a war zone, there had been a surprising connection, a fleeting glimpse of a possible humanity replacement in the future.

The automaton shouted out, “Be careful in there.  Lots of people want to kill you.”

He didn’t know how or why it had happened the way it did, but a mechanical kind of humanity in the unlikeliest places had given Frank an undefinable kind of courage that had all but disappeared before the checkpoint.