Time Is No Place For Artificial Intelligence

Numbers and information appeared across its HUD, alerting it to a survivor. It turned its head flawlessly and leapt over one hundred feet, landing in front of the survivor. It cocked its head, a strange bug its creators never quite fixed, and looked at the man. It hoisted him up by his jacket, a lab coat actually. A name badge hung from it’s location, pinned onto the pocket at his left breast. Dr. Malcolm Reyes, it read. It paid no attention to the badge, or the begging man, who was silenced moments later, his heart oozing blood in the assassin’s hand.

It dropped him, and the heart, and opened a small device on its wrist. It was a small screen with a keyboard, and a small, printed number at the bottom, probably a production number, which was 13894. It typed its new destination, and vanished in a flash of blue.

The machine materialized and studied its surroundings. It stood silently and watched as Dr. Malcolm Reyes put the finishing touches on Subject 13894, the creation that would save his life.

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