For the rest of the ride, even when we got off the bus heading towards the lecture hall, walking in the other direction. Part of me wanted to forgive his behavior because of his loss during the war, but that was no excuse. The robot female labor unit ran into the water to save that child, despite knowing the water would kill her. That’s not something a mindless being would do. My thoughts took a backseat as we entered. The lecture hall and settled in, our professor taking roll, with an enthusiastic voice, announcing the Great Bombardment for this semester’s topic. Specifically, the period after the bombardment and during the rebuilding of humanity, also known as the Golden Age of Robotics. With half the population lost. Humanity’s reconstruction relied heavily on machines for heavy labor. This led to a bond between man and machine, sparking the Golden Age of Robotics and establishing.
Many of the rights regarding both man and machines. Two years later, when alien forces secretly took over neural networking, an entity that controlled the robots’ personalities and functions, making them turn against the humans leading to a civil war. This was the perfect opportunity for the government to sweep their error under the rug, claiming that the robots had been planning to take over the Earth and enslave humans. So because the people in higher offices Didn’t want to take responsibility for their mistakes, they made a scapegoat as usual. After the conflict ended, this false truth got taught in school systems and our professor was teaching us. What he was being told, but the way he was implying them to be mindless machines. Incapable of emotions. Demeaning them as nothing more than just tools was enough to make me crack and slam my fist against the desk, drawing everybody’s attention to me as their eyes flicked in my direction. The professor paused with a devilish grin, his eyes challenging me to defend my point. After gathering my thoughts, I began, If you would look in your textbooks, you would know that two years prior to the Great Bombardment, humanity was involved in trade with these extraterrestrials, Even going as far as inviting them to our world and showing them the infrastructure of our planet, including the great neural network. An entity that can change any robot’s personality, even able to make them do things, but the reason you will never know this is that humanity never takes responsibility for its mistakes.
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It’s always easier to find a scapegoat than to admit fault. The classroom fell silent. Every eye fixated on me and the professor, my words polluting the air, making it hard to believe. The professor’s eyes narrowed, taking devilish pleasure in finding fault in my argument. He said in a mocking tone, But my dear boy, do you have evidence to support your claim, or is it just a claim based on partial truths? Before you say anything more, I suggest you gather your thoughts a lot more thoroughly before making illogical statements.
This delusion that robots and machines are more than tools is just that—a delusion. They do as they are told. Do you really think the great neural network, something that keeps our entire city running smoothly, could easily be manipulated? A device that, in the hundreds of years since its activation, has never gotten hacked. Yet we’re supposed to believe a college student who is very emotional and known for his outbursts?
The professor shook his head, dismissing the words with a wave of his hand. You’re a talented student, and if you’re willing to admit you’re wrong about this, I will waive this as a verbal disagreement. If you aren’t willing to admit you’re wrong and stop interrupting my lectures, then I will have no choice but to bring this matter to the principal and have you expelled. Remember, this is a private school, and reserve the right to expel any student for any reason deemed acceptable. So, what will it be? A flood of retorts surged, but no words came. His eyes made it clear he would never admit he was wrong. My classmates’ glares affirmed they wouldn’t condone the idea, either. There was no other choice but to gather my things and start the long walk home. You shouldn’t have to change who you are to make others feel at ease. After a long couple of hours and a slow sunset, I entered my small apartment, where the robot female labor unit still sat on the couch, waiting.
