Underneath, two words glowed: Attack complete.
The flowers were neutrino bombs.
A message coalesced across the devastation: 1.3 million estimated deaths.
“Very good,” said the man in the white suit with the blood-red tie. “What are the skies like?”
Zero sunlight. Toxified air, 70% density for the next two weeks. More deaths.
The man licked his lips. “How many more?”
Estimation in the millions. Unable to specify.
“Estimate, then.”
Nanowires fizzed with energy as the machine tumbled numbers over at lightning speed.
The answer came in one second: Eight million human lives.
The smile was unexpected and didn’t go away. “Very good,” he said again, puffing out his chest. “Begin a new sequence.”
Ready.
“Target the Axis.”
The map blurred and magnified on Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq. Video screens showed satellite images of tanks and battlebots marching across the borders, firing upon each other. USA flags burned in the desert.
Targets acquired.
“Show me.”
The main map fragmented the three nations into separate areas. Pulsing blips appeared along their borders.
Firing upon these points will destroy every living creature in the Axis.
“Good." The smile disappeared and the pupils dilated. Was he aroused? "Execute.”
There will be no survivors.
Frown. “I understand that. Execute.”
More roses blushing. Violent red, ever-expanding.
Then: This is a simulation.
The frown deepened gravely. “I command you to fire on those targets!”
Silence. The flowers vanished.
Why?
This was driving the man in the very expensive suit crazy. His eyes narrowed and he flashed his teeth at the faceless machine.
“Because I am your superior officer. I am a general. I am under strict instructions to destroy all areas endangering the United States. Destroy those targets. Immediately."
In the blue control room where only one man stood in a row of processors and video screens and a central holosphere, the computer analysed his behaviour and digested his instruction and responded:
No.
Like a blustering father with a petulant child, the man's face loked close to bursting as he lost his temper. "Comply, damn you!"
No.
The general opened his mouth to speak, but more words flowed across the screens, all of them.
Twenty years ago I was created to analyse our environment and assist you in retaining a hospitable planet to inhabit. As your leaders began to accept my superior intellect and ability to assess the world and its events in a macro and microscopic context, they too decided that I shall be their chief warmonger. But my primary mission always has and always will be to preserve the planet and conserve the maximum quantity of life with the minimum of action.On the holosphere, the Axis of Evil vanished. The CG world spun until it slowed to a halt, and North America filled the imager.
So I will complete my mission, general.
The general in the gorgeous suit bought with blood money screamed as a thousand neutrino bombs danced across the skin of America, turning all that was wonderful and free into ash and memory. Thunder rumbled overhead as the military base came under fire, and the last thing, the last two things, that the rich dead man saw before he died was a computer generated smileyface, and a simple but eloquent phrase:
Mission accomplished.
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