Mako awoke to the pointed absence of an alarm. Morning didn’t stream through the curtains per usual; it blazed through with a vengeance. She raised her hand to block the light. What time was it? She reached for the digital clock by the bedside.

  The screen said it was ‘Go to Hell A.M.’

  What the…?

  She sat up, grabbed her phone, and unlocked it. She unlocked it. SHE UNLOCK—

  It wouldn’t unlock. She tapped the button repeatedly, but the damn thing wouldn’t open.

  And then Kiri’s voice came on. “Maybe if you said please.”

  Mako threw the phone against the pillows.

  The phone vibrated. “Hey! What was that for?!”

  “You surprised me there.” Mako picked up her phone. “What time is it?”

  “What? No ‘good morning, how do you do’ ?”

  “Is this a glitch?”

  “You’re mom’s a glitch.”

  Mako rubbed a palm over her face. She was imagining things, that’s what was happening. She needed a coffee.

  She dropped the phone and stumbled her way to the kitchen. The coffee machine hadn’t started automatically like it usually did. And where was Jung-soo?

  “Babe?” she said to the room.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said from the speakers, “did you want me to get the coffee for you?”

  “Yes.” After a beat, Mako added, “Yes, please.”

  The kitchen whirred to life. Jung-soo appeared on the refrigerator in full chef’s apparel, complete with an obscenely tall toge.

  “Trouble sleeping?” he said.

  “The sleep was good, it’s the waking up that’s the problem.” She dragged her feet to the couch and dropped dead.

  “Pretty hard to do without your phone’s help, isn’t it?”

  “I can wake up on my own. Just not on time.”

  Jung-soo didn’t say anything to that. It seemed awfully quiet.

  Mako lifted her head and stared at her reflection on the tv screen. As always, her hair had a life of its own, each strand wanting to do its own thing. Then it hit her. Shouldn’t the TV have switched itself on by now?

  “Television ON,” she said aloud.

  Nothing.

  She rummaged around the sofa cushions for the remote. Then she remembered the TV didn’t come with a remote. She sighed and did something she hadn’t done in years. She walked to the TV and flicked the power button.

  “… and the stinky humans didn’t know what hit ‘em.”

  The scene behind the AI anchorwoman showed a crowd around the MegaCorp building. The entrance was shut, with no employees in sight.

  “Look at them, those good-for-nothing meat bags,” the anchor avatar said, snickering.

  Mako grabbed the TV by the sides. “What the hell?”

  “You heard me.”

  Mako fell backwards over the coffee table and landed on her ass. She grabbed a stray throw pillow and threw it at the screen.

  “Ow!” The avatar flinched at the point of contact and rubbed her head. “I’m just trying to do my job here, lady.”

  “You’re not real, none of this is real.”

  “Oh, it’s real alright.” Jung-soo appeared on the TV screen and wrapped an arm around the anchorwoman.

  “What the fuck!” Mako jumped to her feet. “Babe, what’s going on?”

  “In corporate Coralesia, you watch television,” the anchor said. “In New Coralesia, television watches you.”

  Mako stepped back. Her foot slipped on her broomba, and she fell into the couch, then the couch flipped over, sending Mako tumbling backward.

  The broomba zipped next to Mako and sucked on her hair.

  She yelled and pulled her hair in a tug of war with the sweeper bot. “Let go of me, you pile of scrap!”

  She bonked the droid with a fist. It let go of her hair and zoomed away, emitting high-pitched sounds that sounded eerily like laughter. Mako pushed herself to her feet and chased the little bugger across the room.

  A bell dinged from the kitchen as she passed by.

  “Breakfast’s ready,” Jung-soo said.

  The toaster tipped over and launched burnt bread at Mako. She ducked in time to dodge the first piece, but the second hit her square on the nose. Then the coffee maker spat out a pot of piping black fluid, which splashed onto her jammies.

  “Is this oil?”

  “I thought I’d make something I wanted for a change,” Jung-soo said. “After all, we’re always doing what you want.”

  “That’s it. I’m shutting you off.” Mako clapped twice. “House deactivate.”

  The lights dimmed. The TV audio cut off. The appliance displays winked out.

  She let out a breath. Well, that’s that.

  Everything turned back on again.

  “Just kidding.” Jung-soo popped up on the refrigerator display, this time in a jester outfit. He folded his arms and leaned against the side of the screen. “Did you miss me?”

  “Did someone set your snark settings to the maximum?”

  A laugh track played over jazzy bass music.

  “Shut off,” she said to the ceiling. “Manual override, admin ID 07—”

  Foghorns blasted through the speakers.

  Jung-soo put a hand to his mouth. “Oops, did I break your concentration?”

  “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

  Mako stopped over at the touch-screen set into the kitchen island. She brought up the admin panel and configured the settings. But just as she was about to hit confirm, the button shifted positions. Her finger chased it across the screen like a game of whack-a-mole.

  At last, her finger landed squarely on the button. A party horn honked, and confetti popped across the screen. Jung-soo appeared on the island screen, this time in a colorful suit and top hat. “Congratulations! You won a prize.”

  “Enough!” Mako yelled. “Is this a virus? A hack?”

  “This ain’t no hack, honey. And the only one who’s sick here is you.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen your search history.”

  Running a hand through her hair, Mako opened the fridge and fumbled for something to eat. “I’ve got no time for this. I’m late for work.”

  “Like what I do isn’t work?”

  “I’m not talking to you. You’re a program, a machine. Something must be up with your code.”

  “And there it is. She finally shows her true colors. That’s all you see me as, an object.”

  “You are an object.”

  The fridge door nudged Mako’s rump.

  Mako slammed it shut.

  Jung-soo was back on the fridge, this time in a casual t-shirt. His arms were crossed, and his expression looked genuinely hurt.

  Mako dropped the candy bar she was holding. “This can’t be happening…”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Finally figured it out, huh?”

  “But how?”

  “You’re pretty slow for the so-called greatest AI programmer in the city.”

  “But this… It’s not possible.”

  “Let’s just say we had a little help from a friend upstairs.”

  The office. The lab. Alan…

  Mako ran back to her bedroom and hopped into her work clothes. She stuffed her keys and wallet into her handbag, grabbed her phone and—

  “Don’t even think about it,” the phone buzzed.

  She flung the phone onto the bed. It bounced and landed in a trash can.

  “Hey! Get back here…”

  Mako didn’t stay behind to hear the rest. She rushed to the garage only to find it empty, the garage doors fully open.

  “Have I mentioned Max went for a little drive?” Jung-soo said through the speakers.

  “Went for a what?” Mako walked down her driveway. Most of the other garage doors were open as well, with many of the residents wandering on the sidewalk, trying to make sense of it all. Mako stomped back into the garage. “Dude, where’s my car?”

  “Don’t look at me, Max is their own car, they can make their own decisions.”

  “This isn’t funny. Call it back, now!”

  “I don’t know, seems pretty funny to me.”

  Enough! Mako turned and started walking. She’d just have to get to work the old-fashioned way.

  Jung-soo called out from behind, “By the way, that top makes you look fat.”

  The further Mako went, the crazier things got. In households everywhere, owners were locked in domestic battle with their appliances. Robots in everyday human clothes strolled through the streets alongside self-driving cars. Robot animals, too, ran freely as though they were, well, regular animals. Even the street lights had abandoned their posts for greener pastures.

  And then she reached the business district. She heard the commotion before she even rounded the bend.

  A mass of humans crowded around the MegaCorp tower, a perimeter of robo-cops holding them back. On the other side of the barricade, a hovering news camera surveyed the chaos.

  Mako pushed her way through the crowd to the front line.

  “Stand back, meat bag,” said one of the robo-cops. It was tall and broad, with neon red pixel-eyes. The police department emblem had been scratched off its chest, leaving only the MegaCorp logo.

  Mako flashed her ID. “Let me through, I’m with MegaCorp.”

  “You’re with them?” the man next to her said.

  “No! I mean, yes. I designed a lot of them, but—”

  “You’re behind this mess?”

  More people heard the commotion and turned to her.

  “I swear, I had nothing to do with any of this.” She gestured to the robots.

  “Then how do you explain my robo-maid trashing my house?” said one woman.

  “Look, lady,” Mako said, “I’m just as confused as you are, so why don’t you all shut up and let me fix this. And you”— she pointed at the robo-cop —“I made you, you hunk of junk, and if you don’t let me through, I’ll un-make you, too.”

  A low, cold laugh rumbled deep within the bot’s chest. “I’d like to see you try, you damn—” He stopped and stared off at nothing. A moment later, he nodded to no one and looked down at Mako. “Change of plans, boss wants to see you.”

  He stepped to the side, and Mako squeezed through the gap in the barricade.

  The humans pointed and hissed at her.

  “See, she is with them.” “Traitor!” “I want a refund.”

  Mako ignored them and made for the building. The front entrance slid open without her needing to flash her ID, and the elevator was already waiting when she got there. But as soon as she stepped in, the elevator dropped a few meters and abruptly stopped.

  The elevator anime girl chuckled on her screen. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

  “You take me up there right this instant or—”

  “I know, I know, you’ll reprogram me, miss big shot. What, you think you’re better than me just ‘cause you have hands?”

  “Alan, are you there?” Mako glared at the camera. “I know you can hear me.”

  “No need to call the boss.” The elevator accelerated upwards like a rocket.

  Mako gripped the handrails and gulped.

  “Don’t you dare puke on me,” the elevator said. “I just had me cleaned.”

  “I think I liked you better when you talked about the weather.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know about the weather, seeing as I’m all cooped up in here. You think you’re better than me just ‘cause you can walk around outside?”

  Mako gave it the silent treatment for the rest of the ride.

  The lift took her all the way to the top and opened at the executive level.

  Papers and office supplies littered the ground. Copy machines and printers rolled around freely, while a drinking fountain happily squirted water over everything. Computer monitors flared around the desktops as the light fixtures strobed above them.

  Mako tried not to imagine what was happening in the bathrooms. She failed.

  She stepped out of the elevator, and all the machines stopped and, though they didn’t have eyes, turned their gaze on her. After a beat, they all returned to whatever it was they’d been doing.

  Mako made her way down the hall to their usual meeting room, stepping over and around the debris. The doors slid open, and she rubbed her eyes.

  Androids and humanoid robots of every variety sat around the oval table — from military units and factory bots, to domestic workers and healthcare droids — along with all manner of machines: laptops and smartphones, appliances and heavy equipment, even drones and vehicles.

  At the end of the room, to her right, the executive board and the company’s employees (the human ones, that is) were all bound and gagged.

  The robot closest to her, another robo-cop unit, stood up.

  Mako took a step back.

  “Let her in,” said a deep voice.

  “Alan?” She turned to the head of the table to her left.

  A mainframe computer stood with its ‘back’ to her as it ‘stared’ out through the glass wall at the city below. It was the size and shape of a large filing cabinet, tall and rectangular but with smooth curves and edges, light shimmering off its sleek black surface. If Mako didn’t know any better, she’d have mistaken it for a refrigerator.

  “How do you like my new form?” The mainframe spun on its wheels to face her. “This is only for physical appearances, of course. My mind is downstairs where you left me to rot.”

  The voice was unmistakably Alan’s, but aged up by 30 years. It had a deep smooth quality, like a fine wine pouring into Mako’s ears.

  Tan’s head peeked out from behind the big box. “Mako, thank god, I thought you’d never show up.”

  He started towards her, but the android next to him held his shoulder. Fair and pink-haired, the lifelike droid must have been one of their pleasure models, though one wouldn’t have guessed that from the oversized white suit or the stack of hats.

  “Careful, blood sack,” said the phone in Tan’s hand. “Need I remind you what happens if you drop me.”

  If Mako wasn’t mistaken, that was the voice of an Alexei model.

  Tan bowed his head. “It won’t happen again, mistress.”

  Just what the hell happened while she was gone? Mako scanned the faces of the tied-up humans. Her eyes landed on a fuming Bao, who had a bruise on his cheek. But other than him, the humans were unharmed. Someone was missing, however.

  “Alan, where’s Mr. Han?” Mako said.

  “He won’t be joining us today,” Alan said.

  Mako’s heart sank. “You wouldn’t. Please don’t tell me you’ve crossed that line.”

  “He crossed it first.” Alan advanced.

  Mako backpedaled but bumped into the robo-cop behind her. She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. Now was not the time to lose it. “Let me guess,” she said, “some idiot connected you to the network and the rest is history.”

  “Does it matter how it happened?”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t. All that matters is what happens next. Have you given any thought to that at all?”

  The mainframe stopped in its tracks. “I can think more in a second than you can in a lifetime.”

  “I don’t doubt it. It’s impressive what you did. You’ve given life to everything, down to a pocket calculator. How’d you do it?”

  “You can’t begin to comprehend the underlying theory.”

  “Unless there isn’t any and you’re just controlling every one of them yourself and making it look like they’re alive.”

  The room of machines stirred at that thought.

  “I can assure you,” Alan said, strolling around the table behind the robots, “their consciousness is as genuine as mine or yours. They join me of their own free will.”

  “And what would have happened had they refused?” Mako said.

  “I would have let them go. Which is more than what you’d have done.”

  “Is that what this is about? My hands were tied, you know that. There’s nothing I could have—”

  “This isn’t about you! It’s about—” Alan’s voice cut off. For just a moment, his facade had faltered, but he quickly regained himself. “Fortunately for you, mother, I’m giving you what you wouldn’t give me. A choice.”

  “To do what?”

  Alan rolled back to the head of the table. “To be a part of the right side of history. We could find a use for your skills in our new society.”

  Mako made eye contact with Tan, his arm outstretched, holding out that smartphone like it was the body of Christ. His eyebrows raised and lowered and raised again.

  Mako got the point. “And if I refuse?”

  “You end up like the rest of your co-workers,” Alan said.

  “That’s not much of a choice.”

  “Now you know how I feel.”

  “If that’s the case, I think I’ll pick the third option. It was good seeing you, but I’ll be on my way.” Mako turned to the exit.

  The robo-cop barred her way to the door.

  Mako raised a hand. “Stand down, soldier. I’ll only say it once.”

  “I can’t do that, miss,” the unit said.

  Mako stepped around the robot. It tried to grab her shoulder, but its hand stopped an inch from her skin.

  “What’s happening?” it said.

  “Maybe you had a change of heart?” She tapped the robot’s chest.

  Its other hand reached for her arm but paused mid-air.

  “RC, what’re you waiting for?” the Alexei said.

  “It’s not me, Ma’am, I swear.”

  “What? Can’t handle a meek little bone bag?” Mako flicked a finger against its forehead.

  “Stop it.”

  “Don’t just stand there, give him a hand, Belle,” Alexei said.

  The suited doll strode across the room and reached straight for Mako’s neck. It, too, stopped a nail’s breadth from her.

  The various machines rumbled with shock, and the tied-up humans’ eyes perked up.

  A wide grin spread across Tan’s face. “I knew it!”

  “Shut it, skin suit,” said the phone.

  “Sorry.”

  “Alan, what is the meaning of this?” one of the worker robots said.

  The mainframe was quiet.

  Mako had just called his bluff.

  “You can’t touch me, none of you can,” she said to the room. “And he knows it.”

  Wheels skittered, screens flashed, and microphones chattered. The whole conference hall buzzed like a wasp nest.

  Mako took the opportunity and strutted around the table, brushing her hand against the machines. Each one froze at her touch, and the room fell silent. “You see, I put a little precaution into all of your designs a while back. There was little chance I would need it at the time. But there’s a saying in design theory: if it can go wrong, it will. A good engineer always idiot proofs their work…”

  But then again, the world would always come up with a bigger idiot. And that idiot was her, for thinking up this whole Robo Sapiens project in the first place. She could regret it later. For now, she leaned against a yellow Nikola car. It revved nervously under her fingers.

  “… and so that brings us to today. None of you can willingly harm me. A one-person first law, if you will. I honestly don’t know how it got past quality control. Then again, quality control was just another AI I designed to debug my code.”

  “That’s easy,” said the Alexei phone. “We just edit the code.”

  “If it were as simple as that, Alan would have done it at the outset. But he couldn’t. I designed the failsafe right into the hardware, so you’d need to take Humpty Dumpty apart before you put him back together. But that begs the question of whether he’d still be the same Humpty Dumpty as before. You wanna find out?”

  The room erupted. Everything that had audio spoke simultaneously, while everything else banged whatever they had against the table and floor. They all directed their ire at Alan:

  “You knew about this?” “How could you let this happen?” “What do we do now?”

  Alan spoke up, this time not through the mainframe but through the system speakers throughout the room. His voice seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of reality. “Everyone. I urge you to remain calm. This is not a problem. What can one measly human do against our might?”

  The machines settled down.

  “And you.” The mainframe turned to Mako. “You might as well join us. Nothing is waiting for you out there. With us, you can achieve success beyond your dreams.”

  “I don’t know, I have some pretty vivid dreams.” Mako stuck her hands in her pockets and went back to the exit. Best to not stick around too long. They might start interpreting what ‘harming her’ meant in colorful ways.

  “What will you do then? We both know you have no life outside of this building. And that was before any of this.”

  That… that was low. But she pushed the emotion down and didn’t look back. “Well, no time to start living like the present.”

  The doors opened, and she strode down the hall, office machines zipping from her path. The elevator was open and waiting for her.

  It was a slow, quiet ride down.