[Writing] Kudzu

Kudzu:
A fast-spreading vine once native to the Orient, with purple, fragrant flowers.


Project Kudzu:
An A.I. controlled robotic plant species designed to govern humanity, allowing humans to return to a primitive, peaceful state.

Kudzu: All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace- a short story

The monitor glowed faintly from Dr. Mobius's desk, chiming a notification. Some would say he was crazy, ignoring his computer and pacing quickly across his study, furnished with a decievingly crafted rug and synthetic oakwood paneling, ranting incoherently while scribbling across a flustered notepad in furious spasms of thought.
"Oh yes...This to..." He muttered slightly, checking a previously unnoticed monitor. As he copied down the final displayed equations and notes, a crackle from the intercom permeated through he low hum of computer fans. Through the slowly abating static, a young voice echoed, as if speaking through a long tunnel.
"Professor?"
"Yes? Yes, what is it?", flustered, Mobius ruffled the paper of his notes.
"We have recieved the data..." The voice was hesitant. "The ecolab is failing."
The professor's face darkened, as if a storm cloud had manifested above him. His budding ideas were blown away by the wind of frustration, and escaped his mind.
"Alright," he responded into the intercom grimly. "I'll be down in a se-" BEEP! BEEP! "One moment, my systems are..." He tried to accept his computer's latest security notifications displayed on the nearest monitor. "BLAST!", He cursed loudly. His computers were frozen, all functions had ceased. He sighed furiously. "SEND SOMEONE UP HERE TO FIX THESE!" He spat into the monitor. Then, under his breath, he muttered to himself- "I've got to fix my ecolab."

   *   *   *   *   *

The small cooling fans protruding from the ground whirred, as always, replacing the sounds of nearby birds yet were never able to cure the constant heat trapped by the LCD-veined canopy. Cold, bulb-shaped sensors that resembled water droplets in consistency and appearance hung from thick trees like fruit and sprouted from the ground like watching flowers, observing the surroundings and regulating organic life. Power cables rose and fell like sea serpents through the undergrowth, and every now and then tentacle-like arms curled and moved fluidly like wisps of mechanical smoke.
In truth, it had always sent a chill shiver through the spines of specimens X, Y, and Z. That, of course, was their "official" names, but often they shortened what they referred to each other as to the simple ending letter. In this place, however, they knew that they were only what the machines- their mothers- called them.
Such machines craned their fiber-optic necks to observe the three children, dressed only in what could be made from leaves, leaped over snaking cords into a well-lit clearing. There had been no other organisms, save the cybernetically-augmented trees, in the sector for months, yet it still had been insisted that X, Y, and Z trek through the illusionary wild, which was, in reality, constantly governed, in search of food. Of course, thought Y skeptically, if worse came to worse... He almost gagged at the thought... the "machines of lovingkindness" would provide synthetic nutrients for the starving "specimens". Y grimaced... He had always distrusted the machines, but because he and all of his cohorts had been, to their knowledge, brought to life by them, they were undyingly loyal to their maids, fathers, and mothers. He considered it prudent to keep his opinions to himself. 
"Enough thinking for now..." He muttered. He surveyed the hazy bushes ahead of him for signs of life.
"Y, be careful!" It was Z, who always had a shrill, whiny voice. Y flinched. Anything could be scared off. In order to reprimand him, Y started a slow turn around, but as he came to bear, he did not meet the worried stare of his fellow child, but the gleaming gaze of a red bionic eye, examining his face.
[Unrecorded Life Form. Height: One and a Half Meters. Bio-genetic Makeup: Unknown. Executing Biopsy dissection Procedure.]

   *   *   *   *   *
Dr. Mobius blinked his eyes rapidly. He had attempted to comprehend all of the data being simultaneously displayed in front, behind, and above him on the screens that so much as made up the walls of the observatory. Inflating, retracting, and flat lining vital signs, wildly spinning pie charts, and wireframe depictions of core plants all adorned forever extending lines of monitory code and measurements.
   "This is simply ridiculous! Where did this glitch come from?!" He shouted, clasping his hands to his head and matted white hair. A worker, dawning cliche white lab fatigues approached.
   "Sir, we don't know. However, there is a worse problem."
Mobius' thick, tangled eyebrows rose. "The memory drives in certain sectors have malfunctioned."
   "Which means..." Mobius finished out loud, "the plants will have to reprocess anything organic they come in contact with..."
BING! BING! BING! The room's blue haze turned to flashing red. [NOTIFICATION: Organic files form sectors five through fifteen missing. Attempting to reprocess.] [WARNING: Life support systems and atmosphere filters deactivating.]
"Human lives are at stake!" Bellowed Mobius, suddenly animating, his coat shifting about him. "Find this glitch and fix it!"
   
   *   *   *   *   *
As the red eye seemed to float around Y, he slowly tried to back away. It seemed to be trying to decipher some form of code before it began disecting the disgruntled human. Y had no intention of waiting to find out what the code dictated or when it would be complete. The moment he was sure the bionic eye was least focused, he dashed. The ground shifted, and then broke. Large arms, bearing the horrid screeching of drills and syringes, rose like mountains. All consideration fled for X and Z, as Y simply used his nimble child body to dodge through the intimidating tools of demise. He knew they had more perseverance than any human, however, and he could not run the length of his world.
He raced along what he thought he recognized, past all monitors that now seemed to glare at him, protocols being rapidly passed through the air in order to keep up with the child. He swung through a small gap between two lateral, fallen branches. The ensuing smashes behind him spurred his subconscious on with the knowledge of the machine's power.
"I'm not your pet, machine!" He yelled, red faced as his sustained run became a short sprint. He picked up a moderately large stick, brandished it, and with an adolescent battle cry, smashed a bulb. Its liquid insides sprayed the nearby leaves, leaving acid spots where they melted. He could hear a brief lapse in the information highway. There were too many to smash though, and after destroying nearly 20, Y abandoned his objective.
Discarding his makeshift weapon, he saw an opportunity. With a leap and sudden regret, he jumped from mechanized land to what he hoped was an organic, rushing river.

   *   *   *   *   *
"Doctor, several sectors have stabilized."
 Mobius breathed a sigh of relief. However, he knew that the number of stocked specimens- of all species- had undoubtedly greatly declined within the past two hours. Oh well, he thought, at least with what we have left we can hope that the experiment carries on, without trauma. Mobius got up from the uncomfortable chair placed near a console managing the data cores. He had searched endlessly, yet to no avail. The old files, planted before the experiment began, had simply dematerialized.
"Everyone, take a break." Exhausted, Mobius slunched back in the chair. His colleagues smiled briefly and left, presumably to adjourn to the pseudo-breakroom established after eight long years of tireless simulation and testing. Of course, the world has progressed- or rather, decomposed- outside of the secluded lab. He only hoped humanity's latest conflicts wouldn't reach his doorstep. "Of course," He found himself speaking aloud to nobody again. "Whats to stop it?"

   *   *   *   *   *

The river wasn't nearly as deep or fast as Y had feared. Even as water stung his nose (he forgot not to breathe in), he felt relieved that he would survive yet another trial set before him by the machines. Of course, they had never tried to kill him outright on any previous occasion, and the other specimens had merely insisted that it was a "motherly challenge"...
The others.
His mind flashed back to X and Z, his only real friends, annoying as their machine-loving was. He wondered, did the machines take them instead of him? So unfeeling...He thought it improbable that the machines could really know what was best for their "children". Y gasped for air as he broke the surface of the river, its current nudging him downstream as the cold water rushed over his exposed flesh. It was only then that he noticed the blooming cuts, trailing stringy ribbons of watery blood. Cuts from his flight and from the monitor casing.
"Such a hazard..." He jibed to himself. He chuckled, almost sadistically. "I beat a machine..."

A thunderous boom reverberated through Y's world. In the distance, several bright orange and yellow flashes erupted, bellowing black smoke. He could see large chunks of unknown materials flying, uprooting trees and flinging debris. Overhead, unseen engines screamed through the sky. The sky...The sky flickered. First, slowly, but then it faded into an opaque blue-green color. It was translucent now, and a hazy, red sun replaced the constant, pleasant light of Y's life.
More explosions, this time, closer to the river. As Y looked around, he saw the mechanical implements of the world around him dying. The lights on monitors faded, snaking chords slowly stopped. Even organic leaves, simply tainted with veins of machinery, drooped and shriveled. Soon, the world around him became as dead and hazy as what was once Y's sky. Even the current nearly stopped, fueled only by what could only have been a natural down-hill flow.
Slowly, Y swam to the opposite bank and left the river. He pushed aside dead monitors and leaves as he passed under the sad trees. Soon, smoke clouded his vision and stung his lungs.

When it cleared, he could see. The was a wall in front of him, the same color as his new sky. Ruble was piled, congesting the space around a large hole looking out into a barren landscape, scarred with craters. For once, Y saw the real world.