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Published:

January 16, 2025

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I was in the middle of accepting my death when the rescue bot emerged from the murky ocean water.

 

“Mr. Stevenson?” it asked in an even voice.

 

I nodded through my shivers.

 

“I’m Water Rescue Bot Nine. You and your students have been involved in a major boating accident at sea. The ferry is upside down, and we’re settled at the bottom of the ocean at one hundred and sixty feet. I’m here to get you out. Are you alright?’”

 

“I’m—” I mumbled in shock from the ice-cold seawater and cough from the buildup of carbon monoxide and oil fumes in the upside-down cabin. I pointed across the debris and splintered wood to one of my injured students.

 

Nine waded through the water to the unconscious girl splayed halfway on a turned-over bed frame. I finally managed a few words as it withdrew vital measurement equipment from its orange thigh.

 

“Her name is Nika. She’s only ten,” I said

 

Nine’s mechanical compartments whirl with diagnostic and scanning equipment. He assessed her shallow breathing, the impaled steel rod sticking out of her abdomen, and then her pale face. Nine suddenly withdrew his diagnostic equipment, unhooked the extra oxygen tank on his back, and then moved over to me.

 

“Can you walk?” asked Nine.

 

I nodded yes as Nine quickly scanned me. I'd lost a lot of blood from the gash on my head, but not nearly as much as Nika.

 

“I can only take one person,” Nine says.

 

I accepted my death a second time, but it handed me the oxygen tank with the straps out.

 

“Turn around and put this on. We don’t have much time,” it said.

 

“What? No. You need to rescue Nika,” I said.

 

“Nika’s triage assessment is ‘expectant.’ Your classification is ‘immediate.’ I must take you.”

 

“No, you’re not,” I said, pushing the oxygen tank back towards Nine. “She’s younger and more injured. I’m an old man. You have to take her.”

 

“She will not survive the ascent to the surface, even with my help. Based on your blood loss, you have forty-five minutes before being classified as an expectant too. You can be rescued. She cannot.”

 

Nine reached out a mechanical hand to take my wrist, but I pushed it away.

 

“She deserves a chance to live,” I said.

 

“Mr. Stevenson, she will not survive. You can. I can only take one person. We have to go.”

 

“No!” I yelled. “I’m not going. You’re going to take her or no one at all.”

 

Nine stopped moving. I searched its face to find which camera to look at. All of them were black and shifting like the cold water rippling at our chests.

 

“Are you resisting your rescue? If so, I’m authorized to incapacitate you,” Nine said.

 

The threat from the bot stirred my instincts, and the last of my little strength remained in my old, fragile body. I squared up to the bot.

 

“I’m not letting you take me out of here. Take Nika, or take no one,” I said.

 

For a moment, I was ready to die fighting a robot, but my aggression deflated completely as Nine turned away and shouldered the oxygen tank. Then it sloshed through the water to the upside-down door to exit.

 

“What are you doing?” I asked Nine.

 

“I’m leaving. I can save others. Risking damage to save you decreases my effectiveness. I have a job to do.”

 

“Rescue the girl, you godforsaken bot! What’s wrong with you?!” I screamed.

 

“Nothing is wrong with me,” Nine said as it stood in the doorway. “My mission is to save as many lives as possible. Statistically, there is one life I can save, and it's yours.”

 

“Life isn’t about statistics and data! It’s about doing what’s right—what’s morally right. Nika has her entire life ahead of her; I’ve already lived most of mine. She should get a chance to live a full life!”

 

“I agree with you, Mr. Stevenson,” said Nine. “But ten years ago, you wouldn’t be speaking to me. You’d be comforting Nika as you both suffocated to death inside this ship. You have a chance at life, and you should take it.”

 

“No, I can’t,” I said. “It’s not right that I get to live and she dies. What about her parents? What about her life?”

 

The water level in the compartment was rising, and my vision was getting worse. I gasped as the last elements of oxygen sloshed back through the water to me. Nine put his steel hand gingerly onto my shoulder.

 

“I admire you, Mr. Stevenson,” said Nine. “You care about your students. Let me care for you so you can care for Nika’s parents and family.”

 

“I can’t,” I said, holding back tears, “It’s unethical for me to allow a child to die while I live.”

 

“Then allow me to make that choice for you,” said Nine.

 

I couldn’t tell if it was the stuffy air or my tears that filled my vision, but things became clearer the moment Nine put an oxygen mask over my mouth. I took a breath of fresh air, restoring my vision and my senses. I notice the waterline rising, then to Nika’s body.

 

She didn’t look like she was breathing anymore.

 

As Nine prepared the oxygen tank around my torso and double-checked the equipment, I could not help but stare at Nika.

 

“What am I going to tell her parents?” I said out loud.

 

“Whatever you say to them, I’m sure they’ll be happy you’re there to say it,” said Nine.

 

I surrendered to my rescuer as we dipped into the cold water and out the door. Since that day, I have been forever haunted by the darkness of that ship and the morally grey fog that encompassed my decision to leave Nika behind. Only one thing comforts me in the murkiness of my ethics:

 

There’s no such thing as a ‘right’ choice.

Copyright 2024 - SFS Publishing LLC

I Rescue

My logic is undeniable

B. M. Gilb

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