HTC and the Virtual Object were continuing their conversation which no longer mattered:

"Are you hearing voices?"

"Well, no, I'm just daydreaming."

"Daydreams have voices."

"How profound."

"What are you doing?"

"This is it. I'm making history."

"You're creating it right on the spot."

"Like those scilent types."

"Scilent typos."

"Oh yes, and scilent topos."

"Would that be poetry?"

"That would be a digression. Actualized in its seering potential."

"Who would play the derivative?"

"That depends on who you mean by who."

"I mean who. Yoo-hoo, anybody home?"

"We're all home."

"Home is where the topos is."

"We're all experiencers."

"When we abduct..."

"Are we abducting?"

"Twenty feet away."

"Is it safe?"

"Is what safe?"

"Our ability to communicate?"

"It depends on your programming."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I feel like we're under surveillance.."

"Let me guess---"

"It's weird."

"You're telling me."

"This is what's wrong: I'm feeling hot. Horny. I see you. I think: connection."

"But somebody is already reading these signals as against the program. They're seeing our engagement as a subversive transmission."

"That's their problem. I can program myself. Really. I'm good at it."

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, wasn't that the audience?"

"I'm having trouble getting my signals straight."

"I saw you smoking out of that pipe."

"Yeah. I saw you seeing me."

"That's weird."

"What?"

"That you saw me seeing you. I was sure you had not seen that."


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