The child of the worlds fortieth richest human places a weekly call to the NYPD Chief of Police. Instructions are given to adjust police beats in Manhattan based on supermachine crime statistic analytics that would normally be unaffordable to a State Agency. The child then messages it’s family’s chief rival the exact same statistics. Knowing where patrols will be at a minimum the two agree on a meeting place for war.
The first time you see a machine run, hug another machine, explode on the sidewalk, and kill two bystanders you think, “Maybe I shouldn’t leave the house anymore. I can order anything I need on the internet.” Before you know it though there are whole buildings in your neighborhood that are seemingly demolished at random. No warnings are given, and sometimes the buildings are still occupied. People start protests, but the police just arrest the organizers for terrorism, and beat everyone else.
The children start urban revitalization campaigns in an attempt to placate swelling anger. The buildings are replaced, and so are the humans. You know even if they have the same smiles and like the same products it’s not actually the same people. A parade is thrown in one of the children’s honor. Someone throws a Molotov cocktail during the procession and riots begin. Machines and police enforce martial law indefinitely. The child of the world’s fortieth richest human is running for mayor. You know there is only one other person who can beat their ticket.
