A lone candle illuminates my space. I dare not use anything brighter because I am terrified that they will find me. I tremble as I write this, knowing that any moment could be my last. But I risk even death to tell this story.
The walls of this cave in which I have found solitude protect me for now, but they have their limits. I am dug in deep, far beneath the surface of the earth. How is it that in a single week I have gone from one of my nation's most respected engineers with prospects of a Nobel prize to one marked for death at the hands of my own people? The answer exceeds even my imagination. But I am no fool as to think this unexpected. On the contrary, I am here as a result of a design I stole. A design that was meant for good. A design I should have locked away in the darkest part of myself and never allowed to see the light of day.
I have always been on the forefront of technological breakthroughs. I lost count of the number of innovations and life changing designs that have been a result of my handiwork. But for all of my achievement I still felt unfulfilled. I had failed to successfully complete the one design that had been my life's goal as far back as I can remember.
For years I attempted to design this particular machine. Yet I always fell short of my goal. I was rebuked many times along the way, either due to lack of imagination or poor design integrity. No matter what I tried, failure was always the result. Countless moments had me reason that since nobody had requested such a machine I should retire the dream. But I thought I was smarter and that it was necessary. I just knew that if I could make it work and when it did the world would laud me, understanding how it would benefit all of mankind.
So diligently I continued to work on my machine. Long hours, lit both by the sun and the bulb, were spent on designs and redesigns. Failures were retooled, corrections made, and materials substituted. The fire I had to be successful on this project was unquenchable.
Finally providence intervened. In a moment, all of the frustration and futility at not realizing my passion dissolved under the radiation of genius. It was just after two in the morning, a slight chill in the early spring air gnawing on me in my shed, when I made the first successful test of my machine. I remember the joy that jolted through me as I saw the fruit of my works staring me in the face, gleaming with possibilities I had long envisioned.
For this machine was like no other created by man. This machine was going to open the eyes of the whole world and bring peace to shores that it had long bypassed. You see, my machine was able to show the inner thoughts of a person in their fullness and truth. My machine could peer into a man's soul and comprehend and translate those deepest of longings and desires, intents and feelings. No longer would words need to be minced. No longer would one man fight against another for lack of trust or the disbelief. My machine would put an end to all of that.
Now some thought my machine was meant for harm. They thought that it could acquire bank account numbers, passwords and even secrets. But that was never a possibility. My machine was not designed to take such things from people, for that was thievery of a sort that I would never condone. My machine, in fact, was incapable of such barbarianism. No, my machine did one thing, and did it to perfection. It allowed the user to see the deepest feelings and beliefs of another. My machine could bring to the surface the thoughts that drove a man's life. It allowed people to see why someone was happy, or why they were fearful. It broke down the walls of platitudes and false security and showed the true nature under a man's skin. It was going to revolutionize the world.
My machine would bring people together. It was going to allow for openness and unencumbered communication. If two men did not trust each other and did not know why, my machine was going to show each how the other was really feeling, and allow them to come together in peace and tranquility. If a husband and wife were on the verge of divorce, my machine would show them how they truly felt, and guide them through the river of shadows and bring them to oneness. My machine was going to show people's true hearts.
I had no doubt that I would be nominated for a Nobel prize, and why not? I was going to do that which had eluded man for centuries. I was going to be known as the man that was able to bring peace to a troubled and corrupt world. Does this person desire peace and unity? Use my machine, and when you find out he does, praise him for it. Does that person really mean harm to those around him? Use my machine, and when it is proven so, provide him with the help he needs to become sound, calm and healthy. My machine could provide all of that, and a utopia would be the result.
But I was a fool. I was so blind that even when I was slapped in the face with the truth I barely felt the sting. You must understand that I repeatedly tested my machine, and it continued to work magnificently. But as I tested, a significant pattern was developing. With each test, whether on myself or another, the results were becoming more and more consistent, and they were unsettling. The machine worked as it should, and brought out in clear tone the specific inner thoughts of each individual on which it was used. The problem encountered was that those thoughts were not as peaceful and benign as I had expected. This was true with each person I tested, not only a few. In fact, everyone I tested showed results that were self-centered and closed minded, bordering on destructive and corrupt.
I was at a loss. My machine was supposed to show the good in man. It was supposed to show that deep down, past the layers of protection and masking that each individual wears, there would be a core of wholesomeness and tranquility. My machine was supposed to report back the desire for unity and peace that existed in all men, if buried under piles of self-preservation. But this was far from the case.
It soon came to pass that those I experimented on began to turn on me. To a man, each was excited at what my machine had to offer. But after it was used on them and they saw the unfortunate results, each decried it's methods, insisting that it was either malfunctioning or that I had somehow corrupted it. But neither was the case. The machine worked perfectly. It was the men who were corrupt, and they were being faced with facts they did not want to acknowledge.
My machine began to gain wide acclaim, though in a way I never wanted. The public soon learned of its abilities, and before long local and national government officials began coming to my door, insisting on speaking with me and observing the machine for themselves. I became fearful of what they wanted, and with good reason. For one day they took my machine, and indecently threatened me if I made any attempt to stop them.
I never saw the machine after that, and am certain it was destroyed. But I was not finished. I knew every inch of that machine, and in my heart knew it had to be rebuilt. I made it known to a close few that I would construct an identical machine, and I was going to use it to expose those that had tried to destroy my dream. That was a mistake.
It took mere hours for me to find not only local officials surrounding my home, but citizens, with the intent of destroying me. Fortunately, I saw this from a distance, as I had been tipped off. I was to be murdered, for in their eyes the knowledge I possessed about the machine was far too dangerous to be allowed to survive.
With great haste I drove far from my home, making my way west in hopes that I would find solace somewhere, perhaps with people who knew the importance of understanding their innermost thoughts. But it was not to be, as providence once again interceded. Night was falling, and as I traveled I came across a baby deer. I swerved to avoid killing it, in the process clipping a tree on the side of the road and slamming my car into the embankment. I suffered only minor bruises, and jumped out of my car, fearful that I was being followed. I ran into the hills, and came across this cave. I have been here a few hours, but I know that has been enough time for them to find me. The will find me. In their hearts they have to destroy me.
I have discovered too late that it is not the desire of man to have his innermost thoughts known. For when faced with the truth, man has no choice but to recoil in horror and admit that he is nothing of and by himself. I was a fool to think that anything but destruction would come of my machine. I am living - if only temporarily - proof of that.
As for me having stolen the idea for my machine, that is very true. Yes, my machine was the first mechanical device to deliver such an accurate and damning portrait of the innermost thoughts of man. But there has been something around as long as man that has done the same. For my idea is simply a steel manifestation of the tongue, that part of us that no matter how hard we try, will always betray our defenses and reveal our innermost thoughts. Tame it though we desire, our tongue speaks only that which we have stored up in our hearts. Those innermost thoughts, that for most of us we wish to seal away from the world, will always slip from our grasp, through the portal of our tongues, no matter how hard we may want to restrain. My machine was not original, and the hatred that was thrust upon me was the only possible outcome.
I am finished with my tale, and though I feel the trail of tears rolling down my cheeks, I am content. For I am comforted in the knowledge of what my machine revealed about myself. I am at peace, and I need to be now. For I hear footsteps, and the clanging of men's voices. They are drawing near. Closer comes their thirst for flesh, closer their rage. Still I sit, waiting as a lamb.
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