Гарри Гаррисон - War with the Robots

"It is indeed, but we must be philosophical about it. Accept it as these good people have done who live here under a canopy of death. The robots will continue their war just as efficiently without us, and probably make it last much longer since they are so evenly matched. Find yourself a woman, settle down and enjoy the life."

Pere found himself glancing inadvertently at Natia, who looked away and blushed. Even if she was a general, she had a fine figure…

"No!" he shouted. "I will not submit. This is terrible. This is no way for mankind to live. Just to sit by and watch these senseless machines destroy each other."

"It does not matter, friend general, whether we like it or not. We have been bypassed. Displaced. We have played too long at the destructive game of war and made our machines too efficient. They enjoy the game too much themselves to relinquish it, and we must find some place where we can try and live to the best of our abilities. Some place where they will not step on us while they play."

"No, I can’t accept it!" Pere shouted again and tears of frustration and anger burned in his eyes. He threw off Natia’s hand when she put it on his arm. The horizon grumbled and flared red, hot metal rattled into the ground nearby.

"I just hope you’re having a good time," he cried and shook his fist up at the unheeding sky. "I just hope you’re having a good time!"