Oktar calmed down later, shuddering at the thought of his wife in the hands of those…robotic killing machines.

They said that they were simply programed, they said that they didn’t want to harm anyone, they said..

They said. If they were evil, bent on taking over the world as Oktar believed they were, then why wouldn’t they say that they meant no harm?

Sitting in his plain house, one where he had to get up to turn on the lights that were powered using a generator that was years and years old, one where he wouldn’t even buy anything that wasn’t at least second hand for fear of it having some tracking device in it, he thought. No matter what they said, even the Oktars of the world were better at thinking than those machines.

So Oktar thought, and decided that, with the help of the sky-gods, he would get his wife back any way he could.

He missed her. And besides, she was the only one of them who knew how to cook, and without a robotic house to make him dinner, he was getting really hungry.