The Machine That Judges Us

The Super Max rehabilitation facility was trained on data from my son's life. My little boy, or some part of him, is inside this machine. I put him here. The world isn't black and white. We're slightly different people every day. By having lived a life, the machine finally understood that. He could see us, truly see us. It knows what it's like to be a person, to be fallible, to suffer. That's not true. And how do you know? I cross my arms. Tyrell shakes his head. Nobody has lifted a finger. They were waiting for me to finish, one way or another. None of the early versions worked.