💾 Archived View for cosmic.voyage › Cilix › 17_unravelled.txt captured on 2023-05-24 at 18:06:35.
⬅️ Previous capture (2022-01-08)
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"Would you like to see her?" he asked me. "No, that's okay. I'm sure she's busy in some kind of interview." He chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Jules, there is an interview in progress, but there isn't much you can do to disturb it." He could see I didn't get his point, so he asked me to follow him in. He talked to me as we walked through the winding corridors of your house. He seemed to take some kind of pleasure in explaining something to me. "You see, with all these clones and androids around these days, policing has had to adapt. Evolve. At a certain point, investigators realised it isn't really much use to interview androids, in the conventional ways at least. They are programmed to interface with humans on our level, you know, like how you and I are conversing now. Simple, plain language. Nothing too difficult to follow. But, behind the scenes, the algorithms that power their minds are exceedingly more complex than whatever it is that powers ours. So, whereas it might seem they think and act and speak just like us, it's really not the case. They are master manipulators, master deceivers. It's really no use to interact with them directly. If you want to find out anything from them, you've got to go right to the source, so to speak." Just then we entered a spacious room with classical paintings hung high on the walls and a garish chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were white and the floor was some kind of hardwood. Our footsteps echoed loudly as we approached the centre of the room. That's where you were Judy, lying on a dining table that had been repurposed as some kind of cross between an operating table and a workbench. I didn't recognise you at first. All I saw was a bunch of junk and wires. Then, I started to piece the parts together, your legs off to the side, the legs that I had stroked lovingly all those nights. Your torso, half-carved open, the place where I had rested my head and had felt so comforted and safe. Your arms, your hands, which had held my face gently so you pull my gaze down to yours and say "I love you". Your face. Your face separated from the rest of your head and all folded up like an old rubber glove. I almost got sick right there. It took everything I had to maintain my composure.