I Carried The Wrong Sperm
Work was work, and I didn't have the luxury of letting my personal problems interfere with it.
By the time I entered the boardroom, the members of the board were already seated around the long glass table, and I took my usual seat at the head.
“Let's begin.”
The head of the robotics division stood and turned on the screen. An image of a sleek, compact machine appeared.
It wasn't humanoid. It looked more like a futuristic piece of furniture, with a smooth oval body, a small retractable arm, and wheels hidden beneath its base.
“This is Project KNORA,” he began. “Our latest domestic-assistance prototype.”