I Sing Of Chaos And Eternal Night

1700

Immediately to my left is room 1301. Inserting the key into the lock, I slowly turn it until there is a soft click. I ease the door open, preparing myself for who or what might be behind it. There is nothing but darkness on the other side.

Shutting the door behind me, I creep forward into the pitch-black bedroom. It takes a few seconds before my eyes adjust to the darkness. I have just come upon the first bed, nearly stumbling into it when I hear two muffled voices arguing from the other side of the wall. I draw closer to the wall and press my ear hole against it, trying to listen as the voices increase in volume.

"... Should have just taken her apart like I wanted!" It is a woman who speaks. "Then we could've avoided this!"

"It was just a simple malfunction," the man answers. "Technology is bound to fail from time to time. Remember that incident at the dinosaur park?"

"Someone nearly being bitten by a mechanical raptor because he was stupid enough to stick his arm out is not the same!"

"Then what about the kid nearly impaled by the lightsaber?"

The woman groans. "That was because the parents weren't watching him! But this... this was completely different. I saw her eyes. It was like she knew who I was, Peter. Like she recognized me!"

Peter. That must mean the woman with him is Dominique. Narrowing my eyes, I notice a thin shaft of light pouring out from the slit under the door beside me. I inch towards it; the conversation on the other side becoming clearer.

"That's impossible. She didn't even remember me," the man answers.

"So?" the woman scoffs. "Oh, right I forgot. If it doesn't involve you, then everything must be fine. I'm just her creator. What do I know? God, Peter. You're such an idiot." Her voice has dropped into a hiss.

Something slams on what must be a table. "Yeah, I must be for putting up with your constant bitching all these years!"

"My bitching? You're the one who always complains—"

A chair screeches back. "Since when have I complained? For thirty years, I've sat there silently like the good husband I was supposed to be while you bitched and moaned about what a burden it was to deal with this type of technology! Do you know how many times I wanted to scream, why not just hand the company over to David or Desiree if you're so miserable?"

"You know why, Peter? You really want to know?" Dominique's voice cracks. "Because I am the only reason why pedophiles don't have their child robots yet! Or why men haven't replaced their wives with newer, younger versions of themselves! If I stepped down, this tech would fall into even worse hands."

Someone paces around the room- their footsteps heavy and loud like a horse's. "You're what's holding it back! Can't you see that? You're a genius! You've helped create something extraordinary! And that is exactly why I can't understand why it disgusts you so much."

She sniffles. "This tech was supposed to help humanity. It was supposed to be revolutionary like the automobile or the Internet. I wanted it to change people's lives for the better. But it's only hurt us in the end." A brief pause follows before she speaks again. "It's only hurt me."

Another pause. "It's not the monster you think it is," Peter finally says.

She lets out a deep sigh. "Have you heard from Zachary?"

"No," the man mutters. "I haven't."

"What about Matthew? I've tried messaging him, but neither of them has answered."

"They're probably busy, Dominique."

"Where? With the saloon girls?" she sneers.

"Not this again." Peter groans. "I can't deal with this again. Not right now." The sound of a door slamming echoes through the wall.