Beige and Bistre

(The entire story)

I'm here? I'm here! Thought the man. I did it! An effulgant smile shone upon his face. Though tranquil in stepping out of his foreign spacecraft, his brain was a mushed mess and his heart was fluttering out of his chest. The elation was simply too much to confide within him, despite his mountainous frame. Glancing side to side to see all of his new world, he was asthmatic. All of this land was his! This entire planet! Not another living soul to be found!

 Though plain and barren, this arid place would soon be a sight for all to behold. He was sure of it.

 The dry, rough surface of the beige planet was all he could use to begin his project of colonization. Most of the planet was made with beige and was simply mundane and plain. However on closer inspection, upon those torrid, trite rocks were ornate patterns of swirls and turns of bistre. The bistre swirls had minds of their own as they danced upon the rocks, painting their own pictures without starts or finishes. Their beauty had contained the power to momentarially demolish the philistine within the man, even despite all the other priorities that required tending to at once. He stopped and paused at the graceful patterns and waves. He traced their elegance with his fingers, watching his arm reaching to keep up with the loops, twists, twirls, and veers of never ending originality. He was pulled in by the elegance of the natural beauty something could have. If not for the abrupt of sound of something falling, he would have stayed that way. Stuck on a rock. Following and tracing the ground with the touch of a finger.

 He lifted his finger in surprise and almost vexation from interruptance. After noticing that he had been sidetracked, he reluctantly decided that he would cover the gracefully smeared rocks. They would only be a distraction after all.

 Concluding that painting would take too long, the man covered the rocks with something else. Time was only a part of it. In actuality, he was afraid to lose this newly found beauty. But his arrogant self wouldn't allow the admittance. To be drawn in by something as silly as rocks? Yeah right! He simply eluded the question entirely, too afraid to confront it.

 When he was finally finished covering the rocks in sight with the tarp retrieved from the stolen ship, he decided he'd finally start his major project. Being the lazy, ignorant human he was, he simply pulled out the robots he had also acquired through means of thievery on an off-guard lab.

 Since it was 2113, A.I.s were quite easy to find, and with World War III; A.I.s were easy to steal. He managed to, salvage as he called it, ten of them, and parts for others. 

After setting out the ten stolid A.I.s and parts near each other, he ordered a command at them. " Build as many A.I.s as you can out of the materials laid out before you." He exclaimed to the wire-filled objects. Living up to his reputation as an oaf, he forgot that most A.I.s cannot comprehend vocabulary and only listened to obscure commands, for the law prevented them from a certain height of intellect. The primary reason being that humans understood that the A.I.s were stronger than them in every possible criteria, so it'd simply be safer without free speech and thinking. One did comprehend it though. Which is alarming in itself, however went overlooked by the man who declared himself "leader."

The A.I told the others what to do through several extant commands and they all got to work. The A.I.s had a proclivity to work like in factories. Once their task was complete, they all advanced to a linear formation facing the man. The man looked down on the neatly placed intervals between all of the robots. Everyone was the same- like marionettes; not one radical. Analogous on Earth. They all wanted power, and now he had it. 

 He looked down and smirked, now imagining that he was ruling Earth. But then he noticed something. They were all even, except one. The same one that had understood his command. The robot was standing at a more relaxed position and had a more comfortable air around it. He looked down to robot with great curiosity. He squirmed up from his rather ordinary black office chair he labeled as "Throne", and shouted vociferously. " You there," he pointed. " What's so different about you?" he demanded in lack of better phrasing. The robot simply paused in response. Just the silence flowing like water in a river.

The absence of acknowledgement and the ubiety of reticence infuriated him. He rose up from his "Throne" in a rage. " You dare disobey me?" he exclaimed. 

Perceiving the clenched fists and trembling face, The A.I candidly bowed down in an attempt to appeal to his superiority complex. After a short moment of indifference, the man alleviated his hands and relaxed his face with a sigh. He dropped to to his "Throne" and showed a face weariness.

Once the man returned to his chambers, the A.I conceived a plan to restore his impaired pride. Or avenge it at the very least.

The A.I entered the man's cubicle with a heart bent on butchery. He leered over the man's face; materializing his contempt that would soon put the man to an eternal rest.

Feeling a waft, the man awoke; gradually opening his eyes until the perception of a figure caused a transition of abruptness. His eyes now widened in a petrified state and his jaw dropped low enough to part his lips, he realised this was the end for him. 

Buried under beige and bistre rocks, the man was long forgotten in a solitary society of A.I heresy.

                                                            It truly was a sight for all to behold.