But if the nightmare died, the dream was dead too. That world was imaginary: a sequence of ones and zeroes. My fingers were activating the missile bay, aiming at a floating nucleus, while I wondered what I was doing. They started throwing rocks at me as I got a couple of hundred thousand miles away. It reminded me a little of the trailing tendrils of a portuguese man o' war, that strange compound sea-creature. Two-hundred mile-long sticky tendrils were dragging asteroids of various sizes behind them. It looked like something you'd see growing on a rotting log, half-submerged under the sea. It looked like fungus or seaweed: the whole thing was organic, an enormous glimmering thing, orbiting the moon. I never saw the aliens, if there were any aliens, but I saw their ship. "That's just in the world." And I took off. I'm big, but I'm clumsy." "Not in real life," he said. You have faster processing speeds and reaction times." "I'm not faster. We've improved a little on the basic human design in your case. Can I ask one last question?" "I don't see why not." "Why me?" "Well," he said, "the short answer is that you were designed to do this. "Good luck," said the horn-rimmed man on a tiny screen to my left.
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