The robot was known by many names. The men at the army called him the Secret Weapon, or Destroyer. The press had dubbed him the Blue Blitz in the headlines. The people in the streets called him their hero. The president had called him the saviour of mankind.
His creator simply called him Tommy. That was the name he preferred.
"I came as soon as they'd let me," the doctor explained.
"Yeah... I know, dad," Tommy said. "It's been nothing but debriefings for the past two days. A billion damn questions about everything."
"Well...," his creator trailed off, touching the back of his neck. "You singlehandedly destroyed Dr. Terror's robot army. What the army couldn't do in months, you did in 24 hours. I guess... it really is only natural that they want to know all the details."
"More like they're scared of me," he replied. "They want to know if I could be a threat. They'd kill me if they had the chance."
The doctor sighed.
"You know that's not going to happen," he said, patting Tommy on the shoulder. "So they're a little scared. They're just paranoid, it's their job to be like that. Don't worry about it."
"They would, though, you know they would."
"I don't think they're the cold, cynical monsters you make them out to be, even if they seem that way. They've still got to answer to the people, and the President... and they know better than to be afraid of you. They know you're a good person."
Tommy just stared off into the distance.
"Am I, though?"
"Of course you are," the doctor said. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"It's just...," Tommy trailed off, clearly having trouble articulating himself. It took him a moment. "I've destroyed so much, dad. I've destroyed so many robots... people like me.
"When... when I was liberating Detroit, do you remember, how that one general was holed up in what used to be an automobile plant? I had to fight my way through the whole plant, fighting hundreds of drones to get through... by the end, I was practically wading through scraps; screws, servos, circuitboard, absolutely everywhere. I shot one guard in front of the room that the general was hiding in... and he was torn apart instantly. But part of his body was still getting power. So there's just half a body, lying there, sparks flying out of what used to be his torso, and his speech processor caught in this horrific endless loop. It just kept screeching "stop, intr--", "stop, intr--" over and over again... my god, it was the most horrific thing I'd ever seen.
"And then, when I finally got to the general, we fought, and while we fought, he said that he was happy to have found a real worthy opponent at last. He was glad to fight me! And when he died, he seemed to die happy, because, I don't know, it appealed to his sense of dignity that it'd at least been someone like me that killed him. Or something like that."
Tommy turned silent. The doctor paused, contemplating what he should say.
"You have to remember how much damage the robot army had done, Tommy. Do you know how many people starved to death in occupied towns, or how many got trampled under foot by them? It would've only been more," he said. "You stopped more people from dying. It's not your fault that you had to kill to do it... it's Dr. Terror's fault.
"And the people know that. It's okay to feel that way. It's what makes you human, Tommy, and everyone knows that. Just remember that you did so much more good. There's nothing wrong with feeling remorse."
Tommy just sat there, silently, a blank look still on his face. At length, he got up, walking forward a few steps, before he finally spoke.
"That's just the thing, dad... I know. I know that there's nothing more human than feeling bad because of killing, no matter what, even if it is just," he said.
Then he turned around to face his creator once more.
"But I know that it was the right thing! And... and nothing. I've killed so many, I've left so much destruction in my wake... but it was for a good cause! It was the right thing to do, it was what I was built to do! How can I regret that?"
Tommy's creator just stared back at him, as it slowly started to sink in, that he had completely misunderstood the problem.
"I don't feel bad, dad! I feel proud, like I've done the right thing!" Tommy grabbed his creator by the shoulders, and he could see in Tommy's eyes that they were horrified, he was pleading. "I don't feel remorse for anything I've done... I just don't. Why can't I, dad? Why can't I feel guilty?!"