10. Russell walked closer to Ted

Russell walked closer to Ted, his footsteps soft but deliberate. "Hello," Ted said, looking up from his thoughts. There wasn’t much else to say; the air between them felt heavy with unspoken words, a mix of shared concern and personal battles neither was ready to lay bare.

Russell hadn’t known Gramps the way Ted had. For him, the man lying in the ICU bed was more a distant legend than a familial reality. Stories of Jack, the cowboy turned empire-builder, had floated through Russell's childhood like myths—wild tales of a gunslinger who commanded respect and fear in equal measure. But now, seeing the frail figure tethered to machines, Russell felt an odd sense of detachment. This wasn’t the figure of power he’d imagined. It was just a man, fragile and mortal, like anyone else.

Ted looked at Russell, noticing the tension in his cousin’s face. He knew something was bothering him. "You doing okay?" Ted asked cautiously.

Russell hesitated, his jaw tightening. He considered telling Ted about the layoff, about how the autonomous vehicle project he’d been so passionate about had been derailed by cost-cutting and automation. But he wasn’t ready to admit it, not here, not now. "I’m fine," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Ted raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. He’d always found Russell hard to read, and today was no different. Instead, he decided to shift the conversation. "Still working with those self-driving cars?" he asked.

Russell nodded. "Yeah. Well... sort of," he said, his voice trailing off. He glanced out the small ICU window, avoiding Ted’s gaze. "The industry's changing fast. Too fast. Machines are taking over, you know? AI, IoT, IIoT, IoMT... it’s all interconnected. It’s fascinating, but also..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Terrifying."

Ted nodded, intrigued. "Terrifying how?"

Russell sighed, leaning against the wall. "Machines don’t need breaks. They don’t demand overtime, holidays, pensions, or healthcare. They just work, endlessly and efficiently. They’re perfect employees, if you think about it. But what happens to people like us? To workers? We’re being promised comfort, ease, and progress, but at what cost? It’s like... we’re being pushed out of our own world."

Ted’s mind immediately drew a parallel. "Like Adam and Eve," he said softly.

Russell looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You know, the Forbidden Apple," Ted explained. "The promise of knowledge, of something more, something better. It’s tempting, irresistible. But in the end, it comes with consequences. Adam and Eve were thrown out of Heaven for wanting more than what they had. Isn’t that what’s happening now? We’re creating these machines, these systems, to make our lives easier. But aren’t they just pushing us further out of our comfort zones? Promising us paradise, but slowly turning it into something we can’t control?"

Russell frowned, the weight of Ted’s words sinking in. "I never thought of it that way," he admitted. "But yeah, it does feel like we’re being... outsmarted, in a way. By our own creations."

Ted leaned back in his chair, his thoughts spinning. "It’s ironic, isn’t it? We create machines to serve us, but now they’re taking over. They don’t rebel; they just obey. And yet, somehow, they’re in control."

Russell nodded slowly. "And it’s not just machines. It’s the systems we’ve built around them. The algorithms, the networks, the supply chains. They’re all interconnected, all working together in ways we can’t fully grasp. It’s like... we’re not running the show anymore."

For a moment, the two cousins sat in silence, the hum of the ICU machines filling the void. The conversation had taken a philosophical turn, but neither of them minded. It was a rare moment of connection, a shared reflection on the world they lived in and the forces shaping it.

Finally, Russell spoke, his voice quieter now. "Do you think there’s a way back? From all this?"

Ted thought for a moment, his eyes drifting to the faint glow of the machines keeping Gramps alive. "I don’t know," he said honestly. "Maybe it’s not about going back. Maybe it’s about finding balance. Machines can do incredible things, but they don’t have souls. They don’t feel, or think, or dream. That’s still our domain. Maybe the challenge is to hold on to that, to what makes us human, even as the world changes around us."

Russell nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. "Maybe you’re right," he said. "But it’s going to be a fight. The world isn’t slowing down, and neither are the machines."

Ted smiled faintly. "Then we fight," he said. "For what matters."