The day started with a laugh. The drone called Molach showed up to breakfast with industrial sized staple protruding from his forehead.
âIt was there when I awoke, I canât seem to get it out. Yang did it to me, I know he did â he never liked us drones. Ow! It stings.â
âWhat do I care for your suffering?â Yang responded. âPain, even agony, is just information before the senses, data fed to the computer of the mind.â
Yangâs apathetic tone didnât exactly endear him to the group. Everyone agreed it was time for him to die.
âDo we even need to have a formal vote?â asked Captain Sven. âLetâs just kill him now!â
Svenâs appeal was successful. Even Yang seemed to agree.
âI do not fear death. I have long sense overcome the crass demands of flesh and bone. My death will simply be the completion of a chemical process, and nothing more.â
His stoic philosophy had one convert, at least. The noose was set, and Yangâs death seemed imminent, but Molach interrupted the act. âWait, I forgive him. Perhaps he is not evil, just confused. I... I forgive him. But look, that drunk Lupus seems awful eager to lynch someone, for a change. Perhaps he has a guilty conscious?â
With that, the concensus was broken. Several seemed to support Molach in wanting Lupus Howell to lynch, and some still wanted Yang dead. The debate raged on a bit, then was interrupted by nap time. After sometime the group awoke, dew eyed.
âSo, who did we decide on?â
âLupus, I think.â
âOk, letâs string him up.â
Jkaen, engineer and trusty handyman was lynched on day 6.
Please don't go. The drones need you. They look up to you.