My vision was captured by what I was being shown, but I could feel, as if I were a blind man, Dag’s hand grabbing mine, keeping me stable.
“Don’t give it anything. Don’t think about anything,” he warned me. “It can’t see your memories if you don’t access them.”
What I saw was a grey landscape. The dead bodies piled up, the broken machinery strewn across miles of land, all of it the sight of war.
Michael guided me, stepping over corpses. That was its name, I knew.
The dark clouds overhead rumbled. Sheet lightning flashed.
“A slaughter,” he said. “But you had your revenge.”
“What revenge?” I asked.
This isn’t real.
But the data was. Normal people, their eyes could be fooled by computer-generated imagery. With my mind, though, I had learned a long time ago to distinguish even perfect replications. It wasn’t easy, sometimes lies walked a thin line of amalgamated truths. But I knew BCI input from my own organs.
But this was raw. Clarity increased wherever the shadow scanned its head, and I could tell he had walked here before. This was the AI’s memory.
The soil was stained with blood and oil under my bare toes. Continue reading