PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 270 Blindsight
first-person vistas across the dome in an instant, more real than
real.
"Michelle likes it," James said. "The way it feels. And Cruncher
likes the diffraction effects, he likes— interference patterns."
We watched nothing for a while, by the dim half-light filtering
out from the spine. It brushed the edges of James' profile.
"You set me up," I said at last.
She looked at me. "What do you mean?"
"You were talking around me all along, weren't you? All of you.
You didn't bring me in until I'd been—" How had she put it? "—
preconditioned. The whole thing was planned to throw me offbalance.
And then Sarasti— attacks me out of nowhere, and—"
"We didn't know about that. Not until the alarm went off."
"Alarm?"
"When he changed the gas mix. You must have heard it. Isn't
that why you were there?"
"He called me to his tent. He told me to watch."
She regarded me from a face full of shadow. "You didn't try to
stop him?"
I couldn't answer the accusation in her voice. "I just—observe,"
I said weakly.
"I thought you were trying to stop him from—" She shook her
head. "That's why I thought he was attacking you."
"You're saying that wasn't an act? You weren't in on it?" I didn't
believe it.
But I could tell she did.
"I thought you were trying to protect them." She snorted a soft,
humorless laugh at her own mistake and looked away. "I guess I
should have known better."
She should have. She should have known that taking orders is
one thing; taking sides would have done nothing but compromise
my integrity.
And I should have been used to it by now.
I forged on. "It was some kind of object lesson. A, a tutorial.
You can't torture the nonsentient or something, and — and I heard
you, Susan. It wasn't news to you, it wasn't news to anyone except
me, and..."