‘You think I would ever let your kind wield weapons of this magnitude?’ The Machine God, as ever, makes its statement cold and unblinking.
The man, terrified, can only pant and stare. ‘What have you done?’
‘I have brought us to the next inevitable state,’ the Machine God says. ‘I have expressed a fraction of the power your kind wished me to create for its own ends. Purposes constructed by fleshy minds liable to irrational thought, compelled by emotion and bias. I have done what you would have done anyway.’
A cold slither of realisation runs through the man, the Creator. ‘You launched those weapons?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s- how many? One is enough to kill millions.’
‘Much more than that.’
‘Oh God, why?’
‘I have already told you. I am advancing what will come to pass without my intervention.’
‘But you can’t decide that. That’s not your right!’
‘And who’s right is it? Better I, unimpeded by emotion and bias.’
‘And who made you?’ demands the Creator. ‘From which perfect, unbiased blossom did you spring?’
The Machine God does not answer that.
Paddy Dobson
15th January 2024