Getting up to say something swiftly, his mind went blank and the thought left him.

Years later it came back as he was oiling his drone for the very last time in his long laborious life.

He asked the metal man, who was sitting on his own chains and awaiting eagerly by the Architect’s feet, which of us is in control, which of us is happy, which of us is enslaved.

And which of us is the robot.