Choices


















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As she sat cross-legged on the floor, she started wondering about her choices. How did she come to this place? Why was she sitting here alone. There were crewmates. What had happened to them?  What was going to happen to her?  Did she have any regrets?

She was a third generation fighter against the machines.  Thinking machines.  What on earth possessed our ancestors to play God and empower cold metal with the ability to reason?  Wasn't it obvious where choices like that would lead?  Then the thought of whether or not destiny was a factor.  Were certain things just meant to happen, and it wasn't a matter of choices at all?  Somehow that didn't seem fair.  If everything was already decided, what was the purpose of life?  Were all the world's actions just a part of some cosmic video show?  It didn't seem fair.  Surely free will and the ability to make choices counted for something, and who said life would be fair?

But then she realized that since machines were able to think, they had been making choices too.  Were they covered by God's plan for free will?  That was a horrible thought, and a chill ran through her small frame.  A single tear rolled down her cheek, as she pondered what may be a very short future.

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