Dan grinned. “Are you hungry, by the way? I was thinking of making potato skins. They’d be done in an hour.”
“I’m fine.” The words came out automatically, and then a fierce hunger rose inside of him. “Actually, go ahead. That sounds good.”
Dan went into the kitchen to prepare the food. “Leticia, preheat oven for potato skins.” The oven turned on and began to heat up.
Stanley followed him, removing a few sheets of paper from the table and sitting down. “People don’t drive anymore — except those stubborn cops. Cars drive themselves, and transportation is so much safer and more efficient. People don’t really own cars anymore. We utilize car services. My Fermi is out there now driving someone around.
“Most aspects of our existence have changed immensely over a short period of time, yet the Police Department is practically the same.”
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” said Dan, scrubbing the potatoes.
“Now imagine if the police were more like Fermi or our food apps. What if all we needed to do was press a button on our phones and we would have help. Real help, unbiased and incorruptible. Complete transparency through the blockchain. An android police force with officers who communicate instantly with each other. They patrol the streets, have access to a database of every criminal in the world, and don’t fear or feel pain. Imagine how safe we would be.”
“It would be a better world.” Dan slid the potatoes into the hot oven, careful not to burn himself. “They could even use the Xiang-Wu criminality scores and keep countless other records.”
“Potatoes recognized,” said Leticia. “Baking in progress.”
Dan took out a cutting board and chopped up some chives. Sunlight cast a shadow over one side of his face.
Excitement rushed through Stanley. He got up from the table and stood behind the couch. The pieces were coming together; he and Dan were going to create a better world. But he still felt nervous.
“I see what you’re getting at by choosing only sentient life without human DNA. But, Stanley, do you think androids don’t fear or feel pain?”
“Do they?” Stanley was doubtful.
“How would we know either way?”
Stanley took out the deck of Uno cards and shuffled it. “That is an interesting question.”
Dan took a seat next to him near the window. “Want to play a game? It’s been a while.”
Stanley looked down at his fiddling fingers. He hadn’t even been aware of what he was doing. “No, no. I’m just thinking.” He put the cards back into the box and sat down. It occurred to him that it was rather strange to be doing something and be completely unaware of it. “If I am unaware of my actions, how could it be possible for me to be in control of them?”
“A very interesting question.”
“Indeed.”
They were both contemplating this when the window exploded, showering them with broken glass. Stanley jumped to his feet.
“Holy crap!” Dan picked up a rock that had slid under the couch.
Glancing outside, Stanley saw the cockeyed protester staring up at him before promptly turning back to the road and cock-a-doodle-doing his anti-machine propaganda. Cold air blasted into Stanley’s face, but the rage within was roasting him inside. “For the love of God, that son-of-a-bitch.”
Dan heaved a heavy sigh. “Don’t call the police.”
“Grab a trash bag.”
Dan taped the bag to the window as Stanley held it in place. A red droplet fell on Dan’s shoulder.
Stanley pointed at him. “You’re bleeding!”
“Where?”
“Your ear.”
Dan reached up, touched his ear, and looked at the blood. “It’s nothing.”
Several drops of blood had already stained Dan’s shirt by the time Stanley had finished cleaning his ear with alcohol. “This has got to stop.”
“And how do you propose we make it stop? Our hands are tied.”
“Then let’s untie them.”
“I’m listening.” The blood had crusted over, leaving behind a small red teardrop.
“It’s like Jean Morrison said, we’re doing all we can with peaceful protests. But they’re forcing our hand. They’re silencing us. We need to strike back.”
“With violence?”
“Only if necessary.” Stanley focused on picking up the shards of glass, but with his poor eyesight, he missed a lot of them. Even with crouching over and putting his face six inches from the ground, he still had to pat the ground.
“Stop,” said Dan, pressing his hand to his back. “You’re going to cut yourself. Go and sit down while I take care of this.”
Stanley sat down. A slight sting drew his attention to a small cut on his finger that hadn’t drawn blood. “I want to protect everyone with android peacekeepers, though there may be room for one cyborg. They’ll be the shield that unites everyone into accepting peace.”
Dan shook his head. “We’re working toward getting fairer rights for machine life. How is creating an army going to help us?”
“Armies win wars.”
“So, now you want us to go to war?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. You know it’s not.”
“Then why—”
“Stop!” Stanley glared at him. He felt like Dan was purposely leading him on because he was still mad from their last argument. Not that Stanley could blame him. Dan — beyond literally having no choice in the matter because he was a cyborg — must have been so disappointed when Stanley suddenly dropped everything. He didn’t want to do it — it killed him to crush Dan like that. Going outside was just too much for him.
After cleaning up all the glass, Dan stared out the window, patting his chest as if to check for a cigarette.
Stanley would have thought he was being mocked had he not written Dan’s code himself. After Dan went into the kitchen, he soon smelled the rich, delightful scent of bacon. Wanting so much to say something funny or interesting, nothing came out.
“Maybe war is where we’re headed.”
“I hope I’m wrong, but what other realistic path is there? And after that horrible program I published—” Stanley pressed his hands to his lips.
“What are you talking about?”
Stanley sighed. He couldn’t hide it anymore. “I was coerced into creating a program that could turn Brutus, a sentry I created several years ago, into an assassin.” He told him about the threatening phone calls and how Sergeant Wilcox had tortured him into releasing the assassination program.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Dan’s mouth opened wide.
“I didn’t want you to worry.” Stanley looked away. He couldn’t imagine life without him. “And, honestly, I was worried you’d nobly try to sacrifice yourself.”
“But we could have dealt with this together.” Dan flailed his hand in frustration. “Why is it that you just can’t trust me?”
“It’s not…”
“Then, what is it?” Dan’s face was bright red.
Stanley sighed. Something from outside the window drew his attention. Darkness engulfed the sill. “What the hell is that?”
Dan rushed over. “Spiders. Mechanical spiders. An army of them.” He took a game board and swiped dozens of them out the window.
“Don’t touch them. Who knows if they’ve been modified, like the demon-cat.” He ran into the bedroom, returning with small orb and placing it on the windowsill. “Stay back.” Pushing a button, the generator started, and the spiders fell to the floor. “The EMP range is adjustable, but it won’t go beyond six feet.”
“You think they’ve been modified like the demon-cat?”
“Could be. Perhaps they’re venomous.”
“With large steel fangs.”
Stanley shuddered. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.” Code to port these mechanical spiders to use his assassination program drifted into his head. It was frighteningly easy.