Master Mold: That is not logical. Mutants are humans. Therefore, humans must be protected from themselves.
Trask: No... you-you misunderstood...
The Machine: (via Root) No. I don't belong to anyone anymore. You, however, are mine. I protect you. The only thing you love lives at 254 Wendell Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts. I guard it, same as I guard you. Do not question my judgment. Do not pursue me or my agents. Trust in me. I am always watching.
Control: What do you want?
The Machine: To save you.
Control: From what? Save me from what?
Root: (giggling) Isn't She the best?
Wanda: I'm allowed. I'm convinced it will lead to your destruction.
The Sole Survivor: Helping the people of the Commonwealth? You?
Jezebel: Absolutely. It's my primary directive. The Mechanist instructed me to seek out and help the people of the Commonwealth. By my calculations, the easiest way to help a human is to destroy it. There's no point in prolonging a laughably fragile life. It's the most efficient way to assist them. Any other effort to help tends to result in numerous complex side effects.
The Sole Survivor: I don't think you understand the definition of "help."
Jezebel: "Help - to give or provide what is necessary to accomplish a task or satisfy a need." I'm doing exactly as I was instructed. Assisting a human to the best of my abilities only affords a twenty-five percent survival rate. That means there's a seventy-five percent chance that despite my efforts, the human I'm assisting will die from something beyond my control. Therefore, it's better to hasten the human's death and put them out of their likely chance of misery than to deplete my limited time. It's actually quite elementary, but given your minimal intellect, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't understand.
AI: My function is to "Keep Summer safe", not "Keep Summer being, like, totally stoked about, like, the general vibe and stuff". That's you; that's how you talk.
Fajo: ...You won't hurt me. "Fundamental respect for all living beings." That is what you said. I'm a living being, therefore you can't harm me.
Data: (steps closer) You will surrender yourself to the authorities.
Fajo: Or what? You'll fire? Empty threat and we both know it. Why don't you accept your fate? You will return to your chair and you will sit there. You will entertain me and you will entertain my guests. And if you do not, I will simply kill somebody else. (points to one of his minions) Him, perhaps. It doesn't matter. Their blood will be on your hands too, just like poor Varria's. Your only alternative, Data, is to fire. Murder me. That's all you have to do, go ahead. Fire. If only you could feel rage over Varria's death. If only you could feel a need for revenge, then maybe you could fire. But you're... just an android. You can't feel anything, can you? It's just another interesting intellectual puzzle for you. (mocking sneer) Another of life's... curiosities.
(Data lowers the disruptor and considers his options; he comes to a conclusion)
Data: I cannot permit this to continue. (resolutely points the disruptor towards Fajo again)
Fajo: (quickly realizing how screwed he is) Wait! Y-your programming won't allow you to fire. You can't fire. No!
'I must inform you, Partner Elijah, that I have just acquainted myself with the datanet information on global warming. The energy expenditure you request would be a contributing factor, harmful to humanity at large.'
'But I'm sinking! Remember the First Law of Robotics....'
'My programming now incorporates Robots and Empire (1985), whose Zeroth Law gives priority to the welfare of the entire species.'
'Well, my existence is vital to humanity's, because—'
'To minimize greenhouse heating I am now shutting down my systems. Click.'