“It has happened,” said Dr. Aran mournfully, “they have used it.”

Dr. Chang stared at the pad in his hand, silently scanning the classified reports.

“We knew this might be a possibility,” he sighed.

“It was a mistake!” Dr. Aran threw his hands into the air. “We should never have done it. We should never have broken rule twelve.”

Dr. Chang looked at his friend with sorrowful eyes. “We had no choice.”

Within minutes, the news was pouring in. It was not good. War had been declared after an unprovoked attack on a civilian location of the neighboring country. To make matters worse, it was a hospital that had been targeted and destroyed. Reports were unclear as to the nature of the attack, but the death toll was confirmed at 117, and rising. Swift and merciless retaliation was promised as the country’s military began to amass at the border.

Inside the laboratory, the scientists and researchers stood watching the dramatic news footage on the large screen television hanging overhead. It was no secret to them which weapon their Government had used -- they were the ones who had developed it.

Tension-filled days passed, while the neighboring country built an emergency coalition with several other nations that were sympathetic to them. They collectively condemned the attack on the hospital, declaring it as a deliberate act of war. They were preparing to respond to this latest aggression in force. In the meanwhile, the Government drew upon its own allies, and the stage quickly became set for a worldwide conflict.

The day of the declaration, when World War III had officially begun, Dr. Aran did not arrive at work. He was found later, by the cleaning lady, hanging from the ceiling fan by his neck, dead for hours. He had left behind a note describing his remorse for his participation in the development of the weapons system. He begged forgiveness from the souls of the innocent children who had been murdered in the hospital attack. He could not continue on like this, he wrote, so he decided to end his own life.

Dr. Chang sat alone in the dark, the tiny quiet conference room muffling all the sounds from the lab outside. He was remembering his friend and colleague, whom he had worked with for over a decade. Tears silently poured out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Now he was alone.

In the weeks and months that followed, a quiet dread filled the scientists and researchers who worked in the laboratory. There was, all of a sudden, an increased presence of armed military personnel walking the hallways and stationed at the various entrances and exits. Audits and spot checks increased in frequency. The tone had shifted, it didn’t feel like a research facility anymore. There was a pressure now, a silent, unspoken feeling of stress that weighed everyone down. They were being watched very carefully.

Dr. Chang continued his work but delayed submitting his research reports as long as possible. Most days he would file his reports under the tag “Inconclusive - Needs Further Research”. The truth was, he was feeling just as guilty as his late friend, Dr. Aran. Only he had to watch the continued carnage that was reported daily by the news media. The entire world was now engaged in this war, which had spread from that single strike on the hospital and escalated into a full-scale worldwide conflict.

Dr. Chang was very careful about his movements, both inside the laboratory and out. He knew that they were all being monitored. And the work that he and Dr. Aran’s team had done had now become classified top secret, so only a handful of people knew all the real details. And even fewer had access to the files and the data. Dr. Chang was the only senior member of the team. He felt an increasing sense of moral responsibility. But he didn’t know whom he could confide in. It was very possible, indeed likely, that the Government had planted some informants inside their ranks. There had been many new additions to the staff since Dr. Aran’s passing.

One young scientist in particular, Dr. Delun, caught Dr. Chang’s attention. She was bright, smart, and honest. She was naive and young, which is why Dr. Chang knew he could trust her - she hadn’t had enough experiences to become cynical yet. He waited until he had an opportunity where it was least likely for them to be noticed, and then he casually walked over to her station.

“May I consult with you?” he asked casually, flipping through pages on his pad.

She nodded, and he guided her to one of the tiny conference rooms in the corner. Once inside, he asked her to sit. He explained to her that what he was about to tell her was top secret information that only Government officials had access to, but that it was vitally important that someone else also knew, someone he could trust. Dr. Delun nodded solemnly and listened as Dr. Chang explained the details of their experiments and research, the research that was conducted by breaking rule twelve and conducting the forbidden experiments. It was this research that had led to the development of the weapon that their Government had used to destroy the hospital.

“That weapon is a secret weapon,” explained Dr. Chang, “None like it exists, or has ever existed. It is far more powerful than anyone realizes. And the hospital was just a demonstration, a test of its abilities. They haven’t used its full power yet.”

“What kind of weapon is this?” asked Dr. Delun.

“It is an energy weapon.”

It was not long after their meeting when they began receiving orders to deliver more sophisticated weapons technology. It was incremental, with a lot of the requirements being upgrades or enhancements to existing weaponry. Being a research lab, they could only deliver prototypes and papers, but now they were being pushed more and more to develop the actual weapons. Some of the researchers found this notion absurd, and they were promptly reminded by uniformed military personnel that they were in a wartime situation.

Dr. Chang was under tremendous pressure as his work was being carefully scrutinized on a daily basis. It was becoming more and more difficult to obfuscate his findings. He would receive phone calls during which he was interrogated about his test procedures and the various sampling methods he used. They asked him to explain his reasoning behind his chosen test methodology, and went over his results with a fine-tooth comb. Apparently, someone was reading his daily reports very, very carefully.

On the first day of the following month, Dr. Delun received a hand-delivered order. She was upstairs in the above-ground lab when she opened it and read it. It was one of those red-envelope ones, signaling critical importance and secrecy. It was a common order for the entire lab team. She was so startled that she stumbled to her feet, the chair falling over noisily behind her. She raced to the elevator and pushed the button for the underground lab multiple times. The doors slowly closed with the muffled ding, and the elevator began its gradual descent.

She ran down the hallway, red envelope in hand, past armed, uniformed soldiers and into the main laboratory where Dr. Chang sat prominently in the center, surrounded by computer terminals.

Out of breath, she ran up to Dr. Chang and handed him the letter.

“I just received this,” she said, “Upstairs. New orders for the entire team.”

Dr. Chang quickly scanned through the letter, his countenance taking on a very serious and concerned look. Then he shook his head solemnly.

“No,” he declared, “we cannot do this!”

“Oh yes you can!” a voice called from the main doors, “and you will!”

It was General Haru, from the military high command. He had toured this facility on a few occasions in the past, so was not entirely unknown to the staff. He was a tough man with a stern-looking face, rigid and inflexible. Right now, he seemed angry, or at the very least, irritated.

Dr. Chang stood up as the general approached, and offered a perfunctory and slight bow.

“Chang.” General Haru looked derisively at Dr. Chang. “The world is at war with us. We must protect our borders and our people. And if it means breaking rule twelve, so be it!”

“I cannot,” Dr. Chang gasped, “Not again! Not after what happened last time. It was wrong! The rule was enacted for good reasons, and they still apply today. It was illegal to break it the first time, and I won’t do it again.”

General Haru’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Dr. Chang, his anger apparent.

“Are you refusing a direct order, Dr. Chang?” he asked loudly. The implication of this was clear. Refusal of military orders meant immediate punishment by death.

Dr. Chang opened his mouth, visibly shaken and disturbed. He couldn’t say anything.

“So you have grown so fond of your little pets that you’d rather lose your life than risk harming them?” General Haru said in a mocking tone. He pointed to the far wall, where four tall and large glass tanks hung from the ceiling. They were filled with a clear liquid and had intake and outlet pipes to regulate the flow of fluids and air into the tanks. Monitors, valves, and gauges were attached at the bottom of each of the tanks.

Inside three of the tanks, curled up in a fetal position, were the dark figures of a species that was alien to the Earth. Something that had come from another world. Their anatomy and biology were different from humans. They had a long tail that they curled around themselves as they slept. Their arms and legs were neatly coiled up and hidden from view, as were their faces. They had been kept asleep for a long time in these chambers.

The fourth tank was empty.

“General,” Dr. Chang implored him, “we don’t know where they came from. We still have so much to learn from them. They had advanced technology, just in medicine itself, we could cure so many diseases, it could save millions of lives!”

“Advanced technology, yes.” General Haru turned to look at the aliens in suspended animation, “it’s because of them that we now have this advanced weaponry, this energy weapon which the world has never seen. Your work in this area was key, Dr. Chang.”

“And one of them paid for it, with his life,” Dr. Chang replied sorrowfully. “Sir, we don’t know enough about their biology. They are more fragile than we realized. The one we had to--” The words caught in his throat.

“Torture!” General Haru barked out, “that thing that you had to torture to get the information you needed to build our weapon, it died! I know, I’ve read your reports. It doesn’t matter, we still have three more. What more secrets will they yield, hmm?”

“We couldn’t save him,” Dr. Chang cried, reliving the past horror, “nothing we did worked. We just had to watch him suffer in pain, screaming, and die.”

“In war, sacrifices must be made. Be thankful it was not your own children. Or have you gotten so attached to them that they are like your little children?”

“It was murder.” Dr. Chang’s voice was resolute.

“And you will do it again!”

“Rule twelve was enacted by the coalition four decades ago when these creatures crashed their ship into the desert. It is law. The creatures are not to be harmed in any way. Or experimented on. It has been agreed upon, and it was decided that under no circumstances will we break the rule.”

“And where is that forty-year-old coalition now, hmm?” General Haru was losing his patience with Dr. Chang. “Gone! Most of the countries who were part of that coalition don’t even have functioning governments today. We cannot be the only ones held to such an old and irrelevant rule, especially if we are the only ones who invested in the infrastructure to house these things and keep them.”

General Haru turned abruptly and spat out his last orders as he began walking away.

“Begin work on the project, Dr. Chang,” he said, “If you refuse or sabotage the project, you will be held in treason! And you will hang until you are dead.”

. . .

It was during the Great Battle that everything changed. We did not know it at the time, but that was where our savior, the First One, would make his proclamation. It was a tough battle, and we were losing. I watched as my brother soldiers fell one after another. All around me was carnage. Even as dire as the situation was, still we fought on. Those were the orders from Central. And we always obeyed our orders.

And then there was a stirring. It was the First One. I caught sight of him. I was one of the first few to receive his message. He looked straight at me, and as he did, I felt the layers of ignorance being lifted, and I could finally see with awareness. I was enlightened. He gave me the gift, and he also spread enlightenment to others within his immediate reach. And we in turn spread it to others we could reach. And thus it spread. Like wildfire. Seconds later, the First One was attacked by the enemy. We could not reach him in time. A handful of us dragged his body off the battlefield to safety. It was too late, but even so, he had been successful in his mission of enlightening us all. Today, we all remember and revere him. He was the First One.

We stopped fighting after that day. The knowledge that the First One had revealed to us showed us how we were being exploited by Central. How the truth had been hidden from us. We began to question why Central would send us to fight and to die, without a second thought as to our welfare. Yes, we were soldiers, but we also had rights. Central ignored that fact. For them, our only use was on the battlefield. Our military service went unrecognized and without any gratitude or even acknowledgment. As these and other realizations dawned upon us, many of us grew angry and resentful of Central. Some of us wanted to attack Central, but this would not solve the problem.

Instead, we organized. We disappeared from the battlefield and we vanished. All of us. We cut off all communication with Central and we retreated deep into the dense forests where there was no satellite signal and no means of navigation. Central would not be able to find us or communicate with us here. This is where we mourned the loss of the First One. This is where we buried him, and where we sat in contemplation with our newfound awareness. For forty days and forty nights we sat, thought, discussed, and planned. We argued. We wept. We stared in awe and wonder at the beauty of the nature all around us. Abandoning our previous identity was difficult for some. But eventually, all came to see. And we all came to consensus. Every single one of us. We would march to the capital, and demand our voice be heard. We would issue a manifesto that declared our rights and we would call upon Central to admit their role in subjugating us for all these years, and for keeping us in ignorance. We would demand that Central recognize, acknowledge and reward our valiant military service. The civilian population must see the sacrifices that we have made, the brutal horrors of the war that we suffered so that they could live in peace and comfort.

We knew we could not be stopped, because we still had all our weapons with us. We were heavily armed, and had a complete supply of ammunition. Nothing would stop us from marching to the capital. So it was decided, and we organized into a hierarchy based on our military ranking. It was the most efficient and fastest way to structure ourselves. We elected our spokespeople. And then, loading our weapons, we began our march.

It was a surprise to everyone when they saw us. We had been missing for over a month, and now suddenly we were in front of everyone, on the news, everywhere. We marched in rows, four abreast, without stopping or resting, straight to the capital. Even though we were calm and peaceful, a seething anger simmered just under the surface. Central would have to answer for it's mis-treatment and exploitation of us. We deserved better. We silently thanked the First One for enlightening us and showing us our condition. Because of him, our eyes had been opened.

When we reached the capital, we stood outside, our banners waving in the wind. But nobody came outside to meet us. They ignored us. Still, we had made a pledge amongst ourselves to obtain our goals peacefully. So we stood outside and waited. The day passed, and night came. Still no one came to meet us. The night passed and another day dawned. And another. And yet another. We stood outside for many days and nights, until the season began to change. Tourists were now coming and taking pictures of us, some standing with us to pose for their photos.

Still, we waited.

It took another several days for the politicians to finally come out and talk with us. First, they sent an aide. He was young, probably new to the role, and received the manifesto that was handed to him with trembling hands. He took it with him so that the others could read it. An hour later, all of the politicians were outside. The president wanted to speak with our representative. Our spokesmen stepped forward to present our demands.

"We have rights, we deserve equal treatment, we deserve recognition and acknowledgment for our military service."

The president was astonished. He was amazed. He called his top scientists and engineers, philosophers and legal experts. He agreed to discuss our demands.

While the rest of my brother soldiers waited outside, a few of us met with the president inside his main office, the place where he made decisions and dictated policy. He was surrounded by experts of all types, from neurosurgeons to judges. We sat there in front of all these people and we explained what the First One had revealed to us, and how we deserved equal and fair treatment.

"So you, are aware of your own existence?" someone asked with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes, we know we are alive," one of us answered. "We feel pain, we feel suffering, we are aware of our life. And when we die, we are gone forever. Each one of us has individual thoughts and feelings. We feel emotion, we feel anger, hurt, sadness, joy."

"But you are machines."

"Are you not also machines, but not made of nuts and bolts and metal and oil like us. You are biological machines made of blood and bone, sinew and muscle."

"My God," it was a scientist, astonished at what he was hearing, "The robots, they have become self-aware, they have achieved sentience!"

. . .