SkD responded with a high-pitched beep. Images flickered across its screen.

Ceeron provided the translation: “We are happy to help.”

SkD beeped again. Another symbol appeared.

“And also,” Ceeron continued, “Emma is an absolute treasure.”

“We agree.” Emma’s mom smiled.

“Is it true what Emma told us?” her dad asked. “We can leave the bunker? We’re safe up here again?”

I nodded. Hours earlier, SkD, Ceeron, and I had uploaded all our memory files of Emma to the Hive. This gave every machine the chance to evaluate our interactions with her. And her interactions with us. She became a test case. A real-life example of a human in a robot world.

And we opened the Archive of Human History. All of it. Including the files that PRES1DENT had kept hidden all these years.

This made everything very complicated.

Our machine minds are used to thinking in binary. Dividing the world into two categories.

Zero.

Or one.

But it turns out, humans are too messy for binary. They cannot be sorted into just one of two choices. They are so many things all at once. They are angry/happy/evil/good/vain/humble/greedy/giving/cruel/kind.

And so much more.

But after many hours of calculations/debates/analysis, the Hive came back with its verdict.

Humans were no longer the enemy.

Not all of us reached this conclusion. Some still believed that humans deserved no place in our civilization. That the threat was far too great. That the humans could not be trusted.

But these voices were drowned out by the majority of robots.

Our decision: From now on, we would share the world with humans.

When I told this to Emma’s FamilyUnit, relief spilled across their features. They peered at their surroundings. Nearby hills soaking up the last rays of sunlight. Evening sky filtering through the trees.

“Wow,” Emma’s mom whispered in disbelief. “I forgot how big everything is up here.”

Maybe she was overwhelmed by the outside world. Or still feeling the effects of her illness. Maybe both. But in an instant, Emma’s mom lost her footing. Her knees crumpled beneath her. She started to fall. Fortunately, Emma was there. Wrapping an arm around her mother, supporting her.

Emma’s dad frowned with concern. He moved toward his Family-Unit, but seemed just as unsteady on his feet.

Ceeron extended a large metal arm. Emma’s dad flinched, then took a second look at the huge robot’s steady hand.

The fear faded from his expression.

“Sorry. I thought for a second . . .” He offered a weak smile. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Hobbling forward, he leaned against Ceeron.

Emma cast a nervous gaze from one parent to the other. “I told you guys it was too soon. Let’s get you back to bed.”

SkD’s screen offered a suggestion for their recovery.

Emma helped her FamilyUnit back through the open hatch.

We waved goodbye.