The Birth of Tomorrow

“These machines we build, progress for the sake of humanity,” he scoffs.

“Clark, put the gun down. Let’s talk about this.”

The scoff turns into a sob. “Don’t you see? We’re playing God!”

“Clark—”

“You were the one who was supposed to understand! Why don’t you understand?”

Spotting a brief lapse in his focus, I make my move — tackling him to the ground and wrestling the gun away.

A tone on the monitor gets both of our attention. At that same moment, the first synthetic child opens their eyes.