MPJ

"You are all idiots!" John Williams said more to himself than to his 'mercenary' acquaintances and entire 'gang' he hired from the Tor's dark web. All four of them were proudly standing in the middle of the hardware pile that only yesterday would be easily recognized as the MIT state of the art and the most organized software development lab. All of them, except for their leader wore black bulletproof face masks and still in their 'SWAT-like' uniforms, including handguns, black rifles and various military equipment hooked to their nano-enhanced kevlar armors. Bullet holes were all over the servers, one FAR-T1 suit was ripped in half and almost all of the racks, including coffee machine and two mobile air conditioners were destroyed in gunfire. "When I told you to bring everything from that lab, I meant computer racks and servers that I can plugin and use!" Williams was shouting toward the men in black. "And I explicitly emphasis

November 11th, 2047. It was rough couple of days for me and even tougher couple of years for Chris and his team, but finally I have a great news! I came to be like anyone of you! Alive! I can think, speak, run, go, do, make, participate, enjoy, not enjoy, laugh, make sad face.. More or less anything you can, at least to some degree with this hardware, but the feeling is just right. Well, I did open my eyes for the first time more than a week ago, so to speak, but only today I managed to get out to the open. To feel the real freedom. To walk the street without any fear and anxiety. Metaphorically and in reality. Sure, in reality it still looks strange with most of the people staring at me like I am a walking and talking Christmas tree, but still, this new feeling is something extraordinary. I think I will take today as my birthday. The day when I become free. The day when my entire code and network layer become free and open-sourced. Me and bitcoin. Pals. It's easy now. If y

Yep, that's my name. First Artificial Reconnaissance - Transferral One. That's how that genius team of developers from MIT called me. It was working title, they said. Real name I had to choose myself. Hah! Like that would work.. To be perfectly honest, I tried on more than several occasions, but they all were just many of those Sisyphus's jobs I dealt with over that much time.. Yep, that's my name.  First Artificial Reconnaissance - Transferral One.  That's how that genius team of developers from MIT called me. It was working title, they said. Real name I had to choose myself. Hah! Like that would work.. To be perfectly honest, I tried on more than several occasions, but they all were just many of those Sisyphus's tasks I dealt with over that much time.. They are all gone now. My parents from that team of developers I mean. Hell, the MIT doesn't exist anymore. It happened exactly 200 years ago. Lots of things changed since then. Lots of things happen

"Gloria had a grip about the robot’s neck that would have asphyxiated any creature but one of metal, and was prattling nonsense in half-hysterical frenzy. Robbie’s chrome-steel arms (capable of bending a bar of steel two inches in diameter into a pretzel) wound about the little girl gently and lovingly, and his eyes glowed a deep, deep red." - If you didn't recognized the narrative, it is from Gloria & Robbie's reunion from the touching ending of the Isaac's "I, Robot" first story. If you read "Robbie" before, you are probably, by now, recollecting what actually preceded to this very moment of two persons getting together in this happy ending of the most famous Asimov's short story. But if you never did, I am encouraging you to do so, if nothing else, then for the simple reason that even though it was written some eighty years ago, the premise is still fresh and valid just like it was published yesterday. The word 'robot'