video.

[dissent]

[ It's late, and Anders is up on the surface, face lit occasionally by the rolling crackle of the sky. But he's not thinking about this strange place called Earth, his eyes distant. ]

Has anyone else met someone they... knew in their Matrix, but who was extracted from a different Matrix?

[ He's fumbling with the question, not sure how to ask what he wants to ask and not daring to voice what underlies it. ]

There are other versions of us still living their lives. It feels like I'm ...

[ A pause, and he decides not to follow up with whatever point he was planning, sighs instead, switches the feed off and tries to work out if there's some way to delete the recording from the network. ]

Comments

text;

[dissent]

Are they? Do you think?

text;

[unwrit]

People like not knowing. Living the lie, believing the lie. It's easier.

text;

[dissent]

Not me. I wouldn't go back. I've never been a fan of the easy life. Or I've never had a chance to be, anyway.

text;

[unwrit]

Except when you were still plugged in. But I guess that doesn't count as living an easy life.



Nothing could make you want to go back?

text;

[dissent]

Nothing.

That isn't to say I haven't lost anything, coming here. But freedom is worth it.

text;

[unwrit]

[Maybe, he writes, and then deletes it.]


How long's it been?

text;

[dissent]

Two years.

text;

[unwrit]

And you're only just now thinking of this?

text;

[dissent]

I recently agreed to a serious commitment. It's the kind of thing that encourages a little introspection.

text;

[unwrit]

Aren't all commitments here serious? We're playing for keeps. No illusions, no pretending. Anybody's story doesn't check out, there's someone out there who unplugged them. Easiest traces in what's left in the world.

You're Anders, right. With the clinic.

text;

[dissent]

I only meant — "the rest of my days" and all that.

But yes. That's me. Anders with the clinic.