PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 141 Blindsight
Szpindel's arm, barely audible, with the rest of the data. From
outside.
"Major Mandy!" Szpindel exclaimed. "You're alive!"
"....no..." A whisper like white noise.
"Well you're talking to us, so you sure as shit ain't dead."
"No..."
Szpindel and I exchanged looks. "What's the problem, Major?"
Silence. The Gang bumped gently against the wall behind us, all
facets opaque.
"Major Bates? Can you hear me?"
"No." It was a dead voice— sedated, trapped in a fishbowl,
transmitted through limbs and lead at a three-digit baud rate. But it
was definitely Bates' voice.
"Major, you've got to get in here," Szpindel said. "Can you come
inside?"
"...No...".
"Are you injured? Are you pinned by something?"
"..N—no."
Maybe not her voice, after all. Maybe just her vocal cords.
"Look. Amanda, it's dangerous. It's too damn hot out there, do
you understand? You—"
"I'm not out here," said the voice.
"Where are you?"
"...nowhere."
I looked at Szpindel. Szpindel looked at me. Neither of us
spoke.
James did. At long last, and softly: "And what are you,
Amanda?"
No answer.
"Are you Rorschach?"
Here in the belly of the beast, it was so easy to believe.
"No..."
"Then what?"
"N...nothing." The voice was flat and mechanical. "I'm
nothing."
"You're saying you don't exist?" Szpindel said slowly.
"Yes."