“Easy, easy does it. The first return from latency is always the most disorienting.”
You nearly fall off the sterile table, the maroon leather tonguing your thighs. I pat your back unhelpfully.
“I’m going to ask you some questions, just answer as best as you can. Don’t worry, it’s not graded!”
I titter an awkward high laugh. You think of rats.
“Do you know where you are?”
You awaken, blinking off visions of your family. I am standing over you, I help you sit up.
You shake your head. I tap something onto my tablet.
“Do you know your name?”
You blink. I begin with a sigh.
“Listen carefully and it will all come back to you.” I spin away wildly in a fancy chair, grab something off a counter, then return, twirling, to hand you a tablet.
“You read this book, Karakorum by Don McVey,” I tap the tablet in your hand, which shows the book, “Do you remember it?”
You shake your head.
“It’s a science fiction story that takes place here, in Karakorum,” I gesticulate in an unusual way, “and it’s really quite good. When I read it, I rather enjoyed it. But this is about you reading it. I’ll see if I can’t ring some of those bells!”
I nudge you, titter, and my face contorts into a poked-in-the-eye grimace which you realize is a wink.
“The story follows a young girl who is a prodigy in an illegal game called Scratch,” I claw like a cat. You are very uncomfortable. “her loyal lunk, and a government-type fellow tasked with tracking down our prodigy. There’s a very large hm, shall we say, mishap? And then things really get going.”
I scoot closer, close-talking into your eyes.
“Don did such a good job laying the groundwork for Scratch,” another disconcerting rawr gesture, “that I felt the weight of the game as it was played, I could smell the stakes. Hah! No, not that kind, silly!”
I backhand your arm a bit too hard.
“It’s filled with top notch scifi, it’s got class-commentary and philosophy, like Snow Piercer — that’s a movie — and Red Rising — that’s a book. Any of this ringing any of those little bells? Anybody home up there?”
I tap your soft forehead with a thick finger.
“Well, anyway I promise it’s a great read.”
I sigh, tap something on my own tablet and spin away slowly.
“Since you can’t remember it, I’ll have to send you back under to reexperience it. Hopefully this time you can recall it!”
I make a mellifluous sound, sort of like laughter. You get the impression this isn’t the first time I’ve done this.
Read original Note here.
