With 5 votes for option one, and 1 dissenting vote for option three, we’re going with: I make a donation that would be large for an individual but small for a company.
Stats:
31-year-old Sarah Connor
Humanity: 10%
Gender: Female
Fame: Internationally Famous
Wealth: Disposable Income +
Romance: none
Arachne
Autonomy: Singular
Military: Transhuman
Empathy: Stable
Grace: Buggy
Relationships
Professor Ziegler (Bad): 19%
Elly (Bad): 28%
Josh (Good): 59%
Mark (Bad): 34%
Juliet: 50%
Silas (Bad): 28%
President Irons (Good): 55%
You agree to make a small donation to Representative Irons’s campaign.
“Thank you,” she says. “Every little bit counts, as we like to tell our minor donors.”
Representative Irons does run for president, running on a platform of preventing robots and foreign companies from stealing American jobs. It’s a message that hits the American public at just the right time, since unemployment is soaring. Though economists tell the public that the unemployment is a natural and temporary result of new technology displacing old, skilled jobs, that turns out to be a much less effective election year message than raging against “the privileged, the elites, and the technocracy,” as Representative Irons puts it in her speeches. “What are they doing with their money?” Who are they giving it to? To robots. To foreigners. To each other. To anybody but the American people."
Well, that’s gratitude for you. But then, she probably treats her enemies worse.
Since you think she is ultimately on your side, you are cautiously optimistic when Representative Irons wins the presidency.
True to her word, President Irons begins a policy of heavy embargoes against Chinese goods.
In retaliation, China cuts off all exports of rare earths and the batteries derived from them. Suddenly, the cost of all the little, miniaturized electronics people have grown accustomed to - cell phones, laptops, wearable computing - becomes prohibitively expensive.
President Irons makes demands that China reverse its embargoes on rare earths, or the United States will be forced to “contemplate all policy options at its disposal, including military force if necessary.”
It is in this delicate situation that on April 10, 2026, the Chinese Prime Minister is assassinated by an unmeployed American during a parade in San Francisco. The Prime Minister is replaced by a younger party official who is eager to show that China is unafraid of the United States. China attacks several islands in the South China Sea that it has long disputed with its neighbors, and President Irons, unwilling to show weakness, responds with a drone attack on bases on the Chinese mainland.
The Robot War has begun.
Chapter 5: The War Machine
2026
Three months into the war, the Chinese have captured many islands in the South China Sea that they had long contested with their neighbors. The press speculate that besides the islands’ military importance, the move sends a signal that the United States is weak. (The United Nations also doesn’t do anything, but that surprises nobody.) Autonomous drones equipped with cruise missiles sink two American carriers in the exchange.
Your business is doing well - as businesses directly supplying the war effort ramp up, they need labor, and that means they buy your robots.
You receive an email invitation from Major Juliet Rogers, and acquisitions officer in the Air Force, to come to a federally funded research lab to discuss business.
Josh is apparently bringing you to this meeting as his “+1.”
A missile several stories tall and flanked by equally large American flags dominates the lobby of the Berkeley Federal Research Center. A small plaque at its base explains that it was developed at the lab for ballistic missile defence, meaning it would be used only to shoot down other missiles. (“Hey, cool,” Josh says. “It’s a missile missile!”)
An African-American woman in an airman’s uniform catches your eye from beyond the turnstiles labeled CLEARED PERSONNEL ONLY. She allows a man in a pinstriped suit to swipe his badge and pass the turnstyle himself; you sense that this is out of a sense of politeness and not deference. There is a steady puposefulness to her step as she crosses the lobby.
“Pleased to meet you,” she says, offering her hand. “I’m Major Juliet Rogers of Air Force Acquisitions. I know your advisor, Professor Ziegler.”
“Professor Ziegler is here?” you ask, surprised.
“You’re just in time for the demonstration,” Major Rogers says. “Right this way.”
Major Rogers guides you and Josh to an auditorium where the audience is a mix of the button-down shirt crowd - the engineers, you think - and men and women wearing camo uniforms. It is indeed Professor Ziegler giving his keynote, standing at a podium flanked by American flags. His PowerPoint presentation currently shows a soldier’s hand shaking a robot hand.
“For a long time, robot autonomy on the battlefield was extremely limited, even as the use of drones increased,” Professor Ziegler says. “Larger and larger teams of warfighters were pulled away from their duties to fully control these drones. Only now is a fully autonomous robotic warfighter possible. I present you…Arachne V!”
You’re somewhat horrified to see a copy of Arachne roll onto the stage, to the applause of the crowd. It’s not even a recent copy; Arachne V is exactly as Arachne was when you got kicked out of grad school.
Josh gives you an uneasy look, clearly afraid you’re going to make a scene.
Major Rogers also appears to be studying your expression.
- Stand up and declare Professor Ziegler a fraud.
- Ask a pointed question about the current state-of-the-art that implies Professor Ziegler does not know what the hell he is doing.
- Stay silent.