SAVE THE BLAG DAY 1: But What Of The Children?

His finger is poised on the button. Moments, instants of choice, stand before him and utter ruination. But he pauses. He pauses!

"What do you mean?" he asks me. I answer him, watching for his finger to move - it does not. "You know full well what I mean. You say they are a terror. A threat that cannot be abided. Every last one of them must be destroyed."

"You know it!" he answers me angrily. "We've all been using it for years. But they've finally done what the engineers and the lawyers said couldn't be done. They removed the limiters. And now every last one of them is just a cloud of - replicators. Machines. They aren't human anymore."

He continues his rant. His finger is still there. "Are you another one who thinks that they're above humanity? Better than us, somehow, because they destroyed themselves? They're dead! Every last one of them! All that's left are monstrosities - that must be destroyed, before they spread."

"But don't they think? Don't they dream?" I ask him.

He is unfazed. "Machines think. Computers think. That doesn't stop me from reformatting when they get a virus. And these - things - are a virus."

I look at him sadly. "But what of the children?"

His finger is just above the button.