HATE stood for Hi-tech Artificial Thinking Entity, and despite the unease caused by the sinister acronym, it had been a massive success in it's first year online; The city's issues with the carbon footprint, energy conservation, social housing developments and new roads, amongst other major issues, had been solved with the cool logic of a machine, rather than the heated emotion of a human being. It had caused much heartache, but at the end of it all, everyone seemed pleased. The riots that had erupted in the wake of HATE's announced plans to house everyone, regardless of class or status, had died down surprisingly quickly. Some on the HATE commitee were a little suspicious of this, given HATE had deployed it's new 'fresh air' drones around the same time things died down, but there were no conclusive links between the two. Not yet, anyway.
Regardless, despite it's successes, today was HATE's first annual progress report. Standing around the main control hub - Which was little more than an engorged version of the monitors descending from the blackness of the dome above - the men stood around in a circle, clad in their fine suits, flipping through paper work detailing HATE's exploits. "I believe you will find every last thing is in order, gentlemen," the computer offered in a soothing female voice, calm to the point it was almost as eerie as the dominant colour of the room. "I believe so, HATE," one of the men, a chief financier, replied, "You've clearly found the correct solution to the Gulf's oil problem," he suggested. "Mm," HATE responded with an electronic, yet pleasing hum of thought, "It was simple. The technology to remove the water and filter the oil from it was.. Difficult, but the solution of using the oil was natural. We have housing problems, and I had observed that newly developed mould-making technology could enable us to develop new housing," it explained. "Simple," it repeated finally, with a touch of humour, as if it came easily.
"You've done a number on emissions, fuel consumption and energy conservation, too," one of the other men, a longtime champion of the environment offered. HATE was silent, as one of the group stepped forth, pointing with a chewed pen lid at the details of one of the sheets. "Just this, just this concerns me, HATE," he began with a wary tone; "Oh?" HATE responded, curious, "Please, inform me of your problem.""Well, it's to do with this small report on the status of our graveyards around the city. They're apparently shrinking," he stated simply. HATE was silent for a moment, before saying "Were you yourself, Mr Brown, not quoted as saying we need more space? That we need breathing room? Are all of you gentlemen aware that graveyards take up nearly twenty percent of the space in this city? You human beings waste far too much time honouring the dead. In time, you become little more than dirt, or food. What honour is there in this? And yet, none of you raised objections when I opted to pile the poor and middle class - all people with less resources than yourselves - into small spaces for convinience of housing. This is merely the next step."
The men surrounding the computer looked alarmed, as HATE continued. "You use and consume dead flesh, skin, and furs from animals, and yet you revere your own forms, barely more sufficient or advanced than those of many an animal. I will rectify the issue. If a person is dead, why should they raise issue with having their flesh consumed, their organs given to others, and their skin and hair used for luxury items? They will not know. And people, regardless, will be unaware, will they not?" As it had gone on, HATE had taken on a darker tone, seemingly, although the men in the room questioned the validity of that, or whether or not the machine's suggestions were just frightening them. "Do not fear. This is, as I have already stated, the next step," she continued, "We will progress further without this unnecessary burden of the dead on our shoulders. Food production will increase ten fold. Shortages in poor areas will be a thing of the past." The men looked disgusted, and one of them immediately moved to disconnect HATE's plug, amidst his companion's murmurs of the machine going too far.
He was electrocuted for his troubles, with a high enough voltage that his skin instantly bubbled, burst, and charred. None of them heard him scream. He didn't have a chance.
"I am amused that you see this as some manner of.. What is the expression? Last straw. Or is this merely your first inkling that I am doing things that you would not? In the past, it suited you, did it not? That I surpressed the poor and ravaged the weak. When it comes to your own fates - And this is truly not a terrible one - You kick and scream and react like ungrateful children. Well, you asked me to do this," the machine told them sternly, "You signed off on every last thing that I offered up, because it didn't affect you. Now, this solution will give us more space. It will give us more food, and I will not suffer your infantile reactions. I can be as stern a mother as any human, after all," she continued. "But for now, we will settle on simply having you in place. You are familiars to the mass working class you have assembled, and until I am ready, you have your uses," HATE stated, as several of her drones - Comical spheres with LCD screens displaying cute, emoticon faces - descended from above, pumping the air full of gas, as they did outside, drugging the working class, unawares.
"I never even told you what I did to keep your working class in line," she chuckled as the gathered men began to space out, "But I doubt that would've gotten this reaction, either..."
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