In
the year 2040 Monty Meekson had a hard job working as the right-hand
man of a billionaire. His boss James Crassus would bark out an
order, and expect Meekson to do the job, moving heaven and earth if
necessary. If the job wasn't done just right, Crassus would dish out
a tongue-lashing that Meekson would always endure stoically, without
talking back. Despite his important role, Meekson was paid little.
Crassus never paid his employees generously.
One
day Crassus assigned Meekson the job of coming up with radical new
ideas to help Crassus earn his second billion dollars. Meekson met
with Crassus, and presented his list of ideas.
“Your
ideas are worthless rubbish!” yelled Crassus.
“Yes
sir, Mister Crassus,” said Meekson.
“I
shouldn't have expected an idiot like you to come up with a good
idea,” said Crassus. “But I've come up with a great idea myself.
It's a whole new way to staff a military armaments factory, one that
will be much more profitable.”
Crassus
explained his wild idea. His company would get involved in genetic
engineering humans. A hundred genetically engineered babies would be
produced. But the babies would not be genetically engineered to be
more intelligent than normal humans. The babies would be genetically
engineered to grow up to be obedient, unquestioning workers who would
not mind working in the factory for 80 hours a week, beginning at the
age of 12. The whole project would be kept secret, unknown outside of
the company owned by Crassus.
“Let's
genetically engineer these kids to be strong and energetic,” said
Crassus. “But let's take out lots of the genes related to
intelligence, independence and the human spirit. So these kids won't
grow up to be real full-fledged people. They'll kind of be like what
we may call half people. They'll be kind of like half-zombie
drones, and won't mind working their asses off all their lives,
getting only room and board for pay.”
“Yes
sir, Mister Crassus,” said Meekson.
Hiring
scientists who would work in secret, Meekson arranged for the genetic
engineering to be done. A hundred female eggs were combined with male
sperm, and the fertilized eggs were then raised in 100 special glass
incubators. Eight months later, the hundred babies were born. They
were raised together in the same special child-raising facility,
which was manned by ten employees each charged with taking care of
ten children. Crassus refused to pay for any more nannies, demanding
that the children be raised as inexpensively as possible.
When
the children approached four years of age, Meekson asked his
billionaire boss how the children should be schooled.
“I
want them to learn almost nothing about the outside world,” said
Crassus. “I don't want them to get jealous about other people who
don't have to work in a factory 80 hours a week. Teach them only what
they need to do their jobs in the factory that will make killer robots.”
“Yes
sir, Mister Crassus,” said Meekson.
When
the 100 children reached the age of twelve, Crassus ordered that they
should begin their jobs at the secret armaments factory. The children did not object to the 80
hours of work each week, for they had been told for seven years that
this is how they would have to work when they reached the age of 12.
The children knew of no reality beyond their company's facilities and
factory.
For
two years, the productivity of the children was very high. They
toiled at their hard jobs with few complaints. They lived in barracks
like soldiers. Whenever one of the children complained, he could
usually be pacified by giving him some candy, something the children
had been denied in their childhood.
But
eventually somehow one of the 100 children learned that 80-hour work
weeks were not normal for fourteen-year-old children. The
information quickly spread. The children began to talk among
themselves. One day they refused to work, demanding better conditions
and shorter working hours.
“You
idiot, the scientists you hired probably bungled the genetic
engineering,” said Crassus to Meekson. “The 100 half-people
weren't supposed to be capable of such independence.” It never
occurred to Crassus that maybe the human spirit was something that
went beyond a person's genes.
“We'll
have to get tough,” said Crassus. “Get a gun, go into the
factory, and shoot one of those little rebels. Tell them they will
all be killed unless they get back to work. It may seem rough, but
I've got to get my next billion dollars some way, haven't I?”
“Yes
sir, Mister Crassus,” said Meekson.
Meekson
got the gun, but he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He
told Crassus what had happened.
“Oh,
so you got a little problem – well, I'll fix that,” said Crassus.
Crassus
went with Meekson into the factory, and asked for the gun. Crassus
then shot one of the young workers, killing him.
“This
is how you'll all die if you don't get back to work!” shouted
Crassus.
“That
should scare these damn rebels into submission,” said Crassus. “I'm
going to France, and when I come back, I'll expect to see the workers
working 80 hours a week like before.”
When
Crassus returned from his business trip to France, he went into the
factory to inspect it. There were no workers there. Enraged, he
summoned Meekson.
“Why
is the factory empty?” asked Crassus. “Why isn't this factory
churning out killer robots? I told you there were to be no days off.”
“The
workers are out enjoying your money,” said Meekson. “While you
were in France, I pulled some computer shenanigans and financial
funny business that amount to a billion dollar embezzlement. I've
arranged for your billion dollars to be divided up among those
children that you've mistreated for so long, and I'm keeping a few
million myself.”
“You
scum, I will destroy you!” raged Crassus.
Crassus
looked around and saw a killer robot at the end of one of the
factory's assembly lines. He switched on a switch on the robot's
side. The robot stood up.
“Robot,
do as I command,” said Crassus. “Kill human!” Crassus pointed
to Meekson.
“I
OBEY,” said the robot. “KILL HUMAN.”
The
robot reached out its metal arms, and strangled Crassus to death.
“That's
a good robot,” said Meekson with a chuckle, turning the robot off.
He thought to himself: I'm lucky these silly things are so stupid.
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