HE GAVE MY PLACE TO HIS MISTRESS. OUR SON GAVE ME THE COMPANY

hung from the rafters like flags over a modern battlefield, and in the center of it all stood my fourteen-year-old son, Owen, beside the robot we had built together at our kitchen table.

Its name was Blackbird.

For eleven months, Owen and I had designed its navigation system, rebuilt its pressure sensors, and rewritten the decision architecture every continue reading …