Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis by David III (korean ebook reader .txt) 📕

world. He had to protect the world from himself, and he had to protect himself from the world. A strong feeling of knowing moved up his spine into his head. Who, really, was this internal entity that needed protection?

“After I replaced my eye, I knew I had to do something to help. So, I approached Evan, told him about my experiences in the military, and asked how I could help.”

“You fought with him?”

“Fought? No. Evan told me that my duty was to get others to stop fighting each other. I created a support center here in the library, where I did my best to show people how to live a meaningful life without a job. Though I failed to — ”

“He’s a madman,” hissed Stanley. “Deputy Evan Wilcox is an evil madman.”

“War changes people. I know it changed me. But back then, I knew of no man more honorable and courageous than Evan. It was an honor to be a part of his team. Marshfield is fortunate to have him.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” said Stanley. “But what about the machines he’s destroyed? He’s obliterated androids and cyborgs out of pure hatred.”

“How can you be so sure that he isn’t protecting us from them?”

“Because they’re not out to get us.”

“Are you sure about that? Look at what has happened since they entered the workforce. Humanity has crumbled.”

“But androids and cyborgs are bound by a rigid set of codes. They don’t make decisions like humans do,” said Dan.

Stanley fidgeted with his fingers. Something didn’t feel right, but he didn’t know why. “If anyone is responsible for their bad behavior, it’s the programmers. Or humanity.”

“Now you’re getting somewhere. But it makes no difference if they choose this path of destruction or follow orders like utterly obedient soldiers. They’re on a different side from us.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Stanley.

“It’s class warfare. And they — the elite — have all but won. They live in their mega-towers, enjoying the finest foods, drinks, and arts, protected and watched over by their private army of MBTA soldiers, while the rest of us fuse out and eliminate ourselves. I’ve told this to Frank a dozen times, but he’s refused to accept this. He wants to keep dreaming, selling his vegetables and pretending like everything is okay.”

“Let’s take a step back from the — ” Stanley scrunched his nose “ — theory. What happened with your campaign at the library?”

“I was making a difference. But for every one person I got through to, five were unreachable. They either got hooked on fentanyl or were hell-bent on stirring up trouble. Small skirmishes between militia and drones popped off around the country. Humans had no chance against these unstoppable war machines, but they didn’t care. It seemed like mankind had lost its sanity, choosing death by drone over despair.”

“That’s insane,” said Dan.

“The resistance movement became more powerful and organized. Civil war loomed around the corner. When tensions were at their highest, fuse appeared, a panacea for all of our problems — and free for all.”

“It arrived just in the nick of time,” said Stanley.

“Yes, perfectly so — like they had planned it all along. Within weeks, the chaos ended, and the world began to slumber.”

“So, you’re saying that the elite used fuse to wipe us all out?”

Dan shrugged. “It’s not like the effects weren’t known back then. Anyone with the power to manufacture and distribute fuse on that level would have had the capability to run predictive models and see what was going to happen.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” said the director, nodding toward Stanley. “They knew what they were doing — population reduction.”

“This might not be a popular opinion, but from a pragmatic point of view, it solved a lot of problems,” said Stanley.

“What are you — FBI? CIA?”

Stanley shrank back. “No, of course not. All I’m saying is that drastic times call for drastic measures.”

“So, that makes it all right?” asked Dan.

“People do their best, but it doesn’t always have the optimal result.” Even as he said it, Stanley felt himself resist his own words.

“And what if they were the ones to orchestrate these drastic times?”

Stanley looked toward Dan.

“The government, who I, without a doubt, believe created fuse, pushed the legislation forward that allowed AI to take our jobs. Their actions led to the unrest and the riots, which allowed them to unleash fuse upon the masses. People were literally begging to be killed — via fuse — which was exactly what they wanted.”

“But fuse doesn’t kill people,” said Stanley. “I haven’t done this since Dan came into my life, but when I’ve been stressed in the past, I would loosen up with a little whiskey. That doesn’t mean I want to be drunk for the rest of my life.”

The director nodded. “You’re right. And all those people thought the same thing. Most of the opioid addicts had offed themselves already. The survivors wanted to live but were struggling with insanity.”

“So, what made fuse different?”

“Because it was marketed as a cure for depression. People struggling to find hope took what they thought was medicine, and it destroyed them. Here’s the most ridiculous part — and most people don’t believe me, and I don’t care if you don’t, either. Fuse is almost entirely made of fentanyl. The only difference is marketing. Countless Americans had their prayers answered when the advertisements for liquid happiness came out. They were down and needed help, and the government swooped in and took them out. The euphoria took away the last thread of desire to fight out a life in this world. That’s why Frank can’t wrap his head around it. His wife, like so many others, no longer had the will to live.”

“That’s unforgivable”, said Stanley.

“Fuse kills you. You may still have a pulse, but once you’ve fused out, you have completely ended your relationship with the world. There is no coming back. Nowadays, it’s the coward’s noose. But, back then, it was pure deception.”

“But