Mette Ivie Harrison, Children's writer, triathlete, marathons, Ironman, training, fitness, workouts, The Princess and the Hound, Mira, Mirror, The Monster In Me, The Hound and the Bear, Young Adult Books, Fantasy, Romance, yoga


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"There is no escape," the words still ring in my ears. "No escape, no escape, no escape." No, it wasn't the words themselves, it was who had said them, and why. Two years ago exactly today in fact, my adventure began. You will be inclined to question my sanity, no doubt. Feel free to do so, I do so myself, often. Whether when you read this you will remember the First Robot War, I don't know, but that first of the real warsd was when it began. I remember where i Was when I heard the news. Our regularly scheduled program was interrupted for the last time. I only heard a clip of Ted Koppel. He was scared. I had never seen a journalist so scared, so I knew something was terribly wrong. "We are getting reports from every corner of the world. The robots are rebelling. Save yourselves!" June 21, 1996. Who'd have thought? Oh, well, it does little good to talk about it now. It happened. How I survived that first massive attack on all living things is something I only pause to thank. I hid in an old nuclear silo on the outskirts of town. It was ancient, a relic of times past, when the East and the West were enemies instead of one united Earth. A time before the robots were built. Probably why I was saved. The robots had no idea what it was. I stayed in there for two days. No food, no water. I was forced out of thirst to find out what had happened. Cautiously, I climbed out and looked about myself. I could see nothing gone, but there was a difference. Not only could I feel it, I could smell and hear something missing. People, of course. There were none. Nowhere. The houses stood as always, but no sounded emitted from them. There they would stand, there they still stand, as though simply waiting for someone to come back. But there wasn't anyone to come back. Only me . . . and the robots. I must have been in shock for a while. I wandered around town aimlessly. For hours, strolling into Albertsons', over to the pharmacy, and stopping at traffic lights. Somehow the robots had gotten hold of the Arian bomb, a bomb that destroyed only homo sapiens. All other animal and plant life survived, and machinery continued to work as usual until it ran out due to lack of repairs. For some reason, I found myself at home. That brought me out of it. I was just plain furious. There was my mother's rocking chair, no longer in motion, the knitting needles always in her nimble fingers fallen on the floor. The television was still on, a black and white fuzz appearing on the screen, my father's armchair moved to sit right in front, and a box of pretzels on the coffee table. There was one lonely half-eaten pretzel rotting on the carpet. For the first time in my life, I cried. And I knew then I would destroy every last robot on earth. I had ot have a plan, but more importantly, I had to know where the robots were. The comtels were no longer in use, so I assumed the robots were using their reserve radiowave control cetners, built into their brains for emergencies. I would have to tap in. I claim no physics master, but from the dusty corner of my brain returned the few required physics classes I took my last year at the Uni. With a couple of transistors, wires, and receiver, a primitive radio could be bilt. Dad's TV set was the easiest way to get parts, so I delved in. It was't very long before I flipped a switch and with very bad reception picked the robots up. They were indeed using their built-in radios. About 50 miles away was the nearest sending I could pick up. There was no way I could travel by aerocar. They were still far too noisy. Besides, how would I ever know when fuel would be available? That left simple use of mind-limb coordination. In other words, walking. I grabbed a camp pack from the attic and filled it with a blanket and as much canned food as it would hold. I carried the radio in my hands and headed out. It was almost dark as it was, but I reached the end of town and set up camp for the night inside old Miller's home. It was comfortable enough, but I wished I'd stayed at Mom and Dad's. It would probably be the last time I'd have a chance to. I ate Chand C and some canned milk and left my mind to wander. Foremost was the robots, but in the back I had a nagging question. What would I do when the robots were dead? It was ridiculous to think I was the only man left alive in the world. If I survived, there must be others. And they would be either trying to destroy the robots, too, or they would be joining the robots--a possibility however remote. And how could I teel between the people on my side and those not? I wrestled many dark hours with that and I only came up with the fact that there was no way I coudl. 2 alternatives were left me. Either I could assume everyone was my friend or I could assume everyone was my enemy. The former was dangerous, the latter cold-blooded. I'd rather be alive and cold-blooded than dead and soft-hearted, so that meant I was alone. After a few more moments I came to the conclusion that any intelligent person would assume the same as I, and that meant anyone I met was target. I needed a weapon. I also still needed to figure out exactly how to annihilate every robot on earth. I turned my radio on in hopes it would help my brainstorming. It did. The radio was the key. Every robot, no matter where they were, had the built in radcen. I knew that everything also has a sound wave at which it breaks. I had no idea how high a robot's was, but it whad to be higher than mine. So, how do I manufacture and send that high of a wave without committing suicide? On a wave length that I could not pick up would be the sending part, but manufacturing was something else again. A dog whistle might not be high enough. A robot whistle would only annoy them. But a cosmis whistle would do it. With visions of screaming, screwed up robot faces dancing in my head, I fell asleep. I awoke with the sun. Searching ht emIller home, I found the weapon I needed. An old 20th century automatic. The make had long since worn off, but it came with its own ammunicition and was as lethal as a laser, so I took it. For the cosmic whistle, I had to find a sat station. Return to home page

"There is no escape," the words still ring in my ears. "No escape, no escape, no escape." No, it wasn't the words themselves, it was who had said them, and why.

Two years ago exactly today in fact, my adventure began. You will be inclined to question my sanity, no doubt. Feel free to do so, I do so myself, often. Whether when you read this you will remember the First Robot War, I don't know, but that first of the real warsd was when it began. I remember where i Was when I heard the news. Our regularly scheduled program was interrupted for the last time. I only heard a clip of Ted Koppel. He was scared. I had never seen a journalist so scared, so I knew something was terribly wrong.

"We are getting reports from every corner of the world. The robots are rebelling. Save yourselves!"

June 21, 1996.

Who'd have thought? Oh, well, it does little good to talk about it now. It happened. How I survived that first massive attack on all living things is something I only pause to thank. I hid in an old nuclear silo on the outskirts of town. It was ancient, a relic of times past, when the East and the West were enemies instead of one united Earth. A time before the robots were built. Probably why I was saved. The robots had no idea what it was.

I stayed in there for two days. No food, no water. I was forced out of thirst to find out what had happened.

Cautiously, I climbed out and looked about myself. I could see nothing gone, but there was a difference. Not only could I feel it, I could smell and hear something missing. People, of course. There were none. Nowhere. The houses stood as always, but no sounded emitted from them. There they would stand, there they still stand, as though simply waiting for someone to come back. But there wasn't anyone to come back. Only me . . . and the robots.

I must have been in shock for a while. I wandered around town aimlessly. For hours, strolling into Albertsons', over to the pharmacy, and stopping at traffic lights. Somehow the robots had gotten hold of the Arian bomb, a bomb that destroyed only homo sapiens. All other animal and plant life survived, and machinery continued to work as usual until it ran out due to lack of repairs. For some reason, I found myself at home. That brought me out of it. I was just plain furious. There was my mother's rocking chair, no longer in motion, the knitting needles always in her nimble fingers fallen on the floor. The television was still on, a black and white fuzz appearing on the screen, my father's armchair moved to sit right in front, and a box of pretzels on the coffee table. There was one lonely half-eaten pretzel rotting on the carpet. For the first time in my life, I cried. And I knew then I would destroy every last robot on earth.

I had ot have a plan, but more importantly, I had to know where the robots were. The comtels were no longer in use, so I assumed the robots were using their reserve radiowave control cetners, built into their brains for emergencies. I would have to tap in. I claim no physics master, but from the dusty corner of my brain returned the few required physics classes I took my last year at the Uni. With a couple of transistors, wires, and receiver, a primitive radio could be bilt. Dad's TV set was the easiest way to get parts, so I delved in. It was't very long before I flipped a switch and with very bad reception picked the robots up. They were indeed using their built-in radios. About 50 miles away was the nearest sending I could pick up. There was no way I could travel by aerocar. They were still far too noisy. Besides, how would I ever know when fuel would be available? That left simple use of mind-limb coordination. In other words, walking. I grabbed a camp pack from the attic and filled it with a blanket and as much canned food as it would hold. I carried the radio in my hands and headed out. It was almost dark as it was, but I reached the end of town and set up camp for the night inside old Miller's home. It was comfortable enough, but I wished I'd stayed at Mom and Dad's. It would probably be the last time I'd have a chance to.

I ate Chand C and some canned milk and left my mind to wander. Foremost was the robots, but in the back I had a nagging question. What would I do when the robots were dead? It was ridiculous to think I was the only man left alive in the world. If I survived, there must be others. And they would be either trying to destroy the robots, too, or they would be joining the robots--a possibility however remote. And how could I teel between the people on my side and those not? I wrestled many dark hours with that and I only came up with the fact that there was no way I coudl. 2 alternatives were left me. Either I could assume everyone was my friend or I could assume everyone was my enemy. The former was dangerous, the latter cold-blooded. I'd rather be alive and cold-blooded than dead and soft-hearted, so that meant I was alone. After a few more moments I came to the conclusion that any intelligent person would assume the same as I, and that meant anyone I met was target. I needed a weapon. I also still needed to figure out exactly how to annihilate every robot on earth. I turned my radio on in hopes it would help my brainstorming. It did. The radio was the key. Every robot, no matter where they were, had the built in radcen. I knew that everything also has a sound wave at which it breaks. I had no idea how high a robot's was, but it whad to be higher than mine. So, how do I manufacture and send that high of a wave without committing suicide? On a wave length that I could not pick up would be the sending part, but manufacturing was something else again. A dog whistle might not be high enough. A robot whistle would only annoy them. But a cosmis whistle would do it. With visions of screaming, screwed up robot faces dancing in my head, I fell asleep.

I awoke with the sun. Searching ht emIller home, I found the weapon I needed. An old 20th century automatic. The make had long since worn off, but it came with its own ammunicition and was as lethal as a laser, so I took it. For the cosmic whistle, I had to find a sat station.

Return to home page