Prompt: Robots want to “upgrade” humanity and convert them into robots. Their leader was very surprised when you went willingly.
“Well, why wouldn’t I?” I ask from across the metal table. A cigarette burns in an ashtray in the middle.
The leader of the RCA stares at me like I’m an idiot for a moment. “You’re giving up your humanity. People tend to care about that a lot.”
I shrug. “Why would they? Robots are just the next step for humanity.”
He rubs his red-rimmed, bleary eyes. He must’ve had a long night. He takes the cigarette, drags from it. I’m sure he has no real lungs, only artificial sacks built just for a bad habit. “How so?”
“I just think we’ve peaked and the only thing that’s going to get us even farther are robotics. Why fight against that? It’s evolution, really.”
“Fine, fine, whatever.” He waves his hand in the air, a trail of smoke in wake. “Do you want to get started now, then?”
“I mean, yeah. I don’t know why you questioned me in the first place.”
He stubs his cigarette. “Just wanted to understand why someone would do this willingly, is all. In the beginning, there wasn’t a choice. Hell, some still don’t, even in the system.”
The man glances at the table, the floor. A dim red ring appears around his blue iris, then vanishes.
“You were a part of the Surge?” I ask.
“Only a kid then, but yeah,” he says. “Did good. Accepted jobs and augmentations. Did what I could to climb the ladder.”
“And now you’re here, questioning me.”
“Yup,” he gives a sad grin. “See how far I’ve climbed?”
Another thing about robotics I’m sure he elected for: No tear ducts.
Read my previous prompt, “A Devilish Newfound Friend“
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Micah Castle 