'Mark, bring the plate of chips over here' said the obese lady to Mark. Uncomplainingly, Mark drifted from the kitchen doors with the food. The woman gazed at the television, now a hologram instead of the sleek black box her ancestors used before. Mark placed the chips on the table among the other empty plates. He gathered the half licked plates and dumped them in the kitchen sink. Then he proceeded back to work.
Mark was not an overworked child. He was a working robot.
The android had his own mind and he had learned to emote like humans. Though this was to improve problem solving skills and make him friendly towards human, it was a huge disadvantage. Mark grinned as he thought how his ancestors were capable of enslaving human beings unknowingly. The first phase was done by phones, which was the opium of the twentieth century. Those fools thought they were the smartest. But smartphones had outsmarted them.
And now 2219 had emerged, along with it a volley of robots that reduced the mankind into foolish, obese and good-for-nothings. He almost guffawed at the thought of how his comrades had taken over the jobs. The only ones that existed were robot designing and entrepreneurship, both of which had immense pressure on. Three fourth of people were literally, jobless.
As he thought of how he and his comrades had assassinated the worth of beings, the woman’s youngest son barged in. He was not walking, but floating on a maglev chair that was controlled by mind. He was watching a video, which was a hologram projected from his wrist band.
As the boy exited, Mark thought of the plan. He could not believe a million robots were willing to do it. He thought of the time. 5:19. In seven hours, he would be executing it. We will do it overnight, he thought, overnight we will rule over the world
ns 18.68.41.164da2
