The oxen steadily trudged through the damp field, turning the soil neatly, while Isidore whistled tunelessly at the reins, only stopping on each turn to tell his two sons, sitting on the back, “Make sure to look out for rocks.”
“Yes Father,” Kristian yawned, nudging his younger brother next to him.
“Yes Father,” Liam parroted, keeping an eye out for larger stones that might damage the plough’s blade as it sliced through the rusty earth.
The two oxen heaved and snuffled with the effort of turning a corner and then set back into their steady plod. “We’re lucky to live in such a fertile area,” their father exclaimed. “Did I ever tell you that this whole area once provided food for the entire country?”
“Yes Father,” the boys chimed, looking towards the ancient belltower, glowing gold in the weak morning sun. Around it, smoke from the village was rising up, joining the haze of low-hanging cloud. All around the tower, the fields were being turned for spring planting, all the way down to the river, that marked the edge of their territory and civilization.
“This whole region is filled with history,” their father went on. “A great battle took place long ago, not far from here.”
“Like the last war?” Liam asked, looking up.
“No silly,” Kristian scoffed and Liam pulled a face. “The last war was caused by computers, not fought like a real battle.”
“Your brother is right,” their father acknowledged and then gave the oxen a few taps with his stick to keep them in line. “The ancient battle was fought with swords and shields, with knights on horseback, much more primitive.”
Liam’s face crumpled into a frown, “What’s primitive?”
“Without computers.”
“Are we primitive then, because we don’t have computers anymore?”
Their father grunted, but gave no real answer.
“May I have a go at leading the oxen, Father?” Kristian asked and their father gave a solitary nod, to which Kristian scrambled over from the back to the front. “Keep an eye out for stones, primitive child,” Kristian teased and Liam stuck out his tongue back.
Ignoring his brother, Liam tried to imagine an ancient battle taking place with knights on horseback fighting with swords, but then a series of small stones clanked the plough’s blade, catching his attention. Looking down, Liam saw something out of place amongst the turned earth. It was small and red, like a stick, twisted in the mud. Without a word, Liam jumped down off the side onto the soft ground without his father or Kristian noticing.
The plough rumbled on along the contour of the field and Liam squelched towards the place where he’d seen the strange red stick, hoping it might be an ancient sword. Kicking some of the wet clods to the side, he noticed the red point, half-concealed in the muck and pulled it from the ground like Excalibur. On inspection, it was not a sword at all, it was not even a weapon; it was a tiny, thin red stick with old bristly stumps that must’ve rotted off long ago.
Liam wiped away some more of the grime and turned the object over in his hands, noticing a small red button on one side. On the hill, the belltower chimed to mark lunchtime, while overhead the grumble of thunder rumbled through the ever-darkening sky.
Liam became transfixed with the button and it was almost like the air had become charged with electricity as his thumb hovered over it. Suddenly his father’s hand came down, grabbing his wrist and Liam turned in horror, “I’m sorry, Father.”
“Boy, what have you done!” his father roared.
Back at the village, the women were preparing lunch for the returning farmers as they began to meander in from the fields following the call of the bells. “We don’t have to tell them, Father,” Liam begged as he was frogmarched back up through the field with Kristian skulking not far behind.
“We have to tell them right now,” his father grated. “It could have spoken to you, it may have put ideas in your head.”
“It didn’t, Father, I didn’t push the button, I swear,” Liam pleaded as the rain started to hammer down. “There’s nothing wrong with me Father, I thought it was a sword, I thought it was primitive.”
“That thing is not primitive, it has a button, don’t you understand?” his father rasped. “It’s probably a relic from the last war, it could still be harnessing artificial intelligence,” his father pointed out and the boys both gasped. “A.I is a trickster, still trying to infiltrate and take what’s left of our lives.”
“What will happen to me, Father?”
“That’s up to the village now.”
Liam looked to his brother, who was staring at the floor, following behind, deep in thought.
After a short meeting, the object was passed around and examined. The chief came over to Liam and asked solemnly, “Did you press the button?”
Liam gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.
“What are the sacred rules here? Buttons and wires are bad; electricity is the enemy.”
“I forgot,” Liam sobbed.
“Do you know what could’ve happened if you pressed that button?” the chief seethed. “Your mind could have been corrupted.” Liam continued to weep. “Do you want to kill your fellow man?” Liam shook his head. “Did it give you a secret message?” Liam shook his head even harder.
“I didn’t press it,” Liam wailed, finally.
“Good,” the chief nodded sagely, ruffling Liam’s wet hair. “It’ll need to be taken to the edge of our territory and cast out into the river.”
“I’ll do it,” Kristian volunteered, stepping forward.
The chief smiled and placed the object in Kristian’s outstretched hand which closed around it, deliberately pressing the red button. There was a small crackle and then, cutting through the silence, a tinny voice sang out from the object, “If you want to stop tooth decay, clean your teeth twice a day.”
Gregory Ballinger is an avid reader, writer and time traveller. When Gregory is not reading or writing, he often travels back to the 1800’s in England where he likes to spend his time in country gardens as an ornamental hermit, contemplating life in the cosmos. Gregory also likes cats.
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