Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis David III (english reading book .TXT) 📖

deeply along both sides of one of his slightly mismatched eyes. He shoved his hand forward. “Jean Morrison, library director.”

Stanley introduced himself and Dan.

“We have more literature and media than ever before, but it’s all digital. Is there anything I can help you find?”

“Frank Depetrio sent us. He wants — ”

“I know what Frank wants.” Morrison sighed; the long raspy flow of air from his lungs exploded into a coughing fit. “Still looking for answers that don’t exist. Questions that haunt him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dan.

The director invited them to sit at a table. “Frank has sent you here to find out who is behind the creation of fuse.”

Stanley nodded, feeling strange. “That’s right.”

“But there is nothing that I can tell you that I haven’t already told him.”

“Frank wants Stanley to hear it. He’s a genius.”

“He values our analytical skills,” said Stanley.

The director laughed.

“Something funny?” Stanley wanted this to be over as fast as possible.

“Come on, now. I thought you were a genius.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s ironic. Frank doesn’t care about who invented fuse. Not really. He’s sent you on a wild-goose chase. I’ve told him time and time again who’s responsible for the creation of fuse. But if you’re as brilliant as you say you are, you’ve clearly missed the real mystery.”

Stanley did not like the way he was being talked to one bit, and he was one insult away from grabbing Dan and going home. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Yes. It’s all nonsense, depending on how you see it.”

“And how do you see it?” asked Dan.

The man held up his finger and pointed to Dan. “With anxious anticipation. You see, I’m old enough to have witnessed it all time and time again, intelligent enough to have recognized the patterns, and skilled enough to prepare for the end of days. I’ve been battle-ready for years, but this war is being fought on a different level. The government and big business have been tightening their stranglehold, solidifying the oligarchy, and furthering the separation in classes.”

Stanley leaned over and whispered into Dan’s ear, “Is this guy for real?”

Dan shrugged. “Are you going to tell us about fuse or not?”

“Like I said, I can tell you all about fuse, but the real reason for him sending you here has very little to do with that.”

“Which is?”

“He can’t come to terms with his wife’s choice to fuse out.”

“Frank never mentioned she fused out.”

“That’s right. He likes to pretend she didn’t.”

Stanley remembered the distant look on Frank’s face. It certainly was possible.

“What happened?” asked Dan.

“If you want to know more about that, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

Stanley sighed. “So, what can you tell us?”

“I can tell you about the events that led to the proliferation of fuse, but that doesn’t mean you’ll listen. I can tell you about the powers that be and how they have been manipulating us for years, but that doesn’t mean you’ll do anything about it.”

Dan stood up straight, his eyes wide and eager. “We’re listening.”

The director looked at Stanley.

“Yeah, me too.” The words came out like a yawn, but it was all Stanley could do to not roll his one good eye.

The director ran his meaty fingers against the tabletop, tapping through several screens that had instantly appeared. Short video clips played across the table, showing innumerable men and women raging through the streets.

“The Great Layoff,” said Dan.

The director nodded. “It was a most interesting time.”

“Devastating,” said Stanley. “Who could have predicted that our technological advances would backfire on us? That we would reject science and industrial advancement, sending us into a depression that would threaten our very existence.”

“Where were you during it?” asked Dan.

“The same place I’ve been for most of the last twenty years. My condo. My job as a senior programmer was well-protected against replacement by AI, but that, too — I knew — wouldn’t last forever. Fortunately, I never faced the financial or personal struggles that my fellow Americans did.”

“Fortunately.” The director interlaced his fingers. “But for America, it was a catastrophe. The suicide rate surged, devastating the population. As people became more angry and distraught, violence spread. A massive divide formed between the ultra-rich and everyone else. As a war veteran, I felt it was my duty to help protect the country.”

“Which war did you fight in?”

“The war against the non-elite — though that’s not what they called it. I sat in an air-conditioned command center, overseeing the bombing of Yemen. I was told that we were helping liberate the people from an oppressive government — these were lies. It wasn’t war, it was terrorism. I destroyed schools, hospitals, women, and children.”

“God!” said Stanley.

“Somehow, I convinced myself that what I was doing was right. It wasn’t until years after returning home that I finally accepted the atrocities that I had committed.”

“You couldn’t have done anything about it,” said Dan. “They imprison and torture whistle-blowers.”

“Maybe,” said the director, taking a moment to chew on those words before resuming the documentary. The video played for a few seconds before he stopped it again. “In the wake of the Great Layoff, people lost their humanity, destroying with reckless abandon. It was utter insanity. I was here, studying at this very library, when a Molotov cocktail was launched through the window. A piece of shrapnel ripped through my eye. The heat cooked me alive.”

Stanley trembled. He couldn’t wait for this story to end.

“A young officer pulled me out of the fire. Evan Wilcox, Marshfield’s future police deputy. If it wasn’t for him, I would have lost much more than my eye.”

“That’s insane. Were there any children injured?”

The director nodded. “Several. But Evan and another officer saved them all. Everything inside was destroyed, and all that was left was a brick shell.”

“My God! How could anyone justify that sort of violence?” said Stanley.

“Speaking from experience, we humans are capable of horrible things. There is always an excuse that we can use to discard our responsibilities.”

The words burned in Stanley’s heart. For twenty years, he had hidden from the