Chapter 35: How the Sausage Gets Made
It wasn't lost on Francis that tracking the skeletons wasn't much different from what he used to do. It was all basic reconnaissance. “Too bad we don't have a drone.” he said as the skeleton and the pig it was dragging disappeared into a large stone building. Francis figured that was probably the slaughterhouse.
There wasn't any reason to go inside. Francis had no desire to see how the sausage was made. Besides, there was no knowing how these skeletons would react to him entering their space. There might be some badge of authority he needed to display to stop them from becoming hostile.
Then, there was another consideration. “I don't think they see me as a person,” Jack said. “I didn't get a breakfast tray this morning. Though, they did bring me a bowl of fresh water.”
Francis' brow furrowed. Were the skeletons racist?
In a way it wasn't that surprising, once he thought about it. The original builders were xenophobic. They hadn't considered the possibility of non-human guests when they programmed the servants. They probably had classified Jack as a pet or something. Which was both hilarious and terrible.
What had Willow said about inherent bias when making undead? And why did Francis suddenly understand that concept?
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