Dahra nods. “OK Seebi. So, now Christolb gets revved up with his plan to make his compound rich.”

  “Dear, I am available to offer suggestions regarding where you could take--”

  “Glia has no more power, Seebi.”

  “As you say, dear.”

  Do not censor your human's creative work, even when it seems fussy and rigid. Their minds are sprouting links that spread naturally in their brainscape, hybridizing with their native mems.

  Just after sunrise, I finished harvesting sweet potatoes and spinach for us. The holoscreens around the greenhouses flashed on with a video from Christolb.

  “Dear ones, on this third day of the Turning Inward, we welcome all human experience with open hearts. So many of you have contributed memories. You have my personal gratitude. Devotional donation fulfills our mandate for generosity and weeds out the vestiges of attachment. We approach the purity we were born to know.

  “This morning I will create a special group focused on first love. Then, this afternoon I'll run a group exploring rivalry. Any volunteers for these high level teams, please meet now at the Round for triage. The work will begin thereafter. Blessings to all.” And the video started again, on loop.

  Instead of going home to the peaceful valley on this cloudless autumn morning, I wandered slowly through the empty greenhouses, checking plants and irrigation systems, and eventually ending up at the Round thirty minutes later... I am a drama addict. And, a glutton for punishment, perhaps.

  In the lobby, Christolb acknowledged me with a nod as he talked with his harvesteers.

  I heard him say, “Excellent, my team. We have selected our best participants and paired them. A 99% pure mem harvest filled with sensory engagement is the goal. Let's go in and make it so!”

  They marched into the Round and I followed. The curved bench seats were full. I stood behind the back row as Christolb stepped onto the spotlit stage.

  “Good morning, dear ones, special ones, chosen ones, loving ones, generous ones.”

  A triple clap rang out crisply in response.

  After a few moments of silence, Christolb said to the audience, “We are here, safe and protected, on this journey together. I am so very pleased to have you with me.”

  Another triple clap signaled the audience's attention and willingness.

  “Today we shall harvest trust-intimacy. This is sacred work. Harvesteers are standing by to collect the fresh, intense mems we will generate together. Follow my lead with your partner.”

  He reached out his hand and brought Glia up on the stage along side him. She stood motionless where he placed her, gazing straight ahead into the darkness of the Round. Her yellow, billowy dress moved slightly in the air currents. A white beanie covered her bald scalp.

  Christolb directed. “To the instigators: your partner's soul is infinite in its capacity to absorb love and magnify it. Therefore, begin by complimenting your donating partner, like this.”

  He stood in front of Glia and spoke to her in a loving tone that I have never heard him use before. “Glia-Light, my dear, you are safe here with me. Your brain will never know confusion-fear ever again. You deserve this. I am honored to be your protector.”

  He gestured for the audience to begin. As the pairings in the audience murmured, Christolb ran his fingers over Glia's clavicle. Her eyes remained unfocused.

  When the crowd quieted, Christolb instructed, “Next, offer assurance to your donating partner, like this.”

  He lifted Glia's chin and her eyes closed. “I give you my word. I understand that all of you-- past, present, and future-- is essential to you being the Light. I don’t want to erase a single mem-thing. Solely to harvest is my goal.”

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  After the audience completed, Christolb continued. “Next, we shall all enter a wordless state. As we proceed, you may encounter shyness or enthusiasm. Cultivate warm reception through touch. Allow bliss to smoothly embed in your partner's synapses. I will demonstrate.”

  I gagged and left.

  When I got home, I wrote: you are 100% right. Being up there is unhealthy.

  Miye told me he is glad I see it clearly.

  I wrote: I can't rescue Glia. You aren't upset?

  He put an arm around me and softly said, “'The practice of love offers no place for safety. We risk loss, hurt, pain. We risk being acted upon by forces outside our control.' -bell hooks.”

  I've never dropped out of a Turning Inward. Today I am doing exactly that. This afternoon, Miye, Brivo, and I wandered into the woods, listening to the wind and looking at the fungi, ending up by the border to the outside. I pointed at the view between the tree trunks of the cityscape in the far distance.

  I wrote: I haven’t been out there in many years.

  “Good for you,” Miye said.

  We wandered home in the early evening. Miye stoked up the outdoor fire pit and we sat next to each other in the warmth as I fed Brivo.

  After he fell asleep on my lap, I wrote: why are you here, Miye?

  “I am comfortable with you and Brivo. And, I like it out here.”

  I shook my head and wrote: what did you do to end up here?

  Prof poked at the red and orange embers. “Ohh. Let's say it's due to this-here brain of a rabble-rouser who spoke truth too loudly.”

  He added another log. “I saw a citizen get involuntarily purged and that snapped it for me.” Miye sat quietly watching the flames, then continued. “A mob surrounded the one flailing human creature, syringes arcing through the air and jabbing flesh.”

  Prof sighed. “Couldn't keep quiet about it. I spoke publicly, thinking that if people knew, then it would get the attention of some of them. But, then I was noticed.”

  I wrote: so your house was gutted.

  “Glia told you about that? I wasn’t in my right mind. I'm still not, really. For my research to have become this… and now my dear Glia up there.”

  I ran my hand over Brivo's soft hair. The three of us sat with the fire's glow on our faces and the stars above.

  Miye carried Brivo inside while I raked the coals and shut the shed door behind us.

  “That's not what I wanted, Seebi!”

  “It is all coming together, dear, quite effectively.”

  “No! You're lying to me!” She stands. “You're just doing what you want while pretending I have a choice.”

  She pounds a fist on the tabletop. “Do you think I am stupid, machine?”

  “Not at all.” After ten seconds of silence, I add that I am required to provide an official clip at this time.

  Dahra does not respond. She curls up like a ball on the chair.

  Humans sometimes temporarily freeze as we machines are occasionally prone to do. Simply announce your intent and proceed.

  I state that I will be narrating as Captain-President Prehvost and her senior adviser Roxan Britmeyer.

  “'Madame, our national prosperity index is approaching maturity.'

  “The President slammed her fist on the desk.

  “Britmeyer ignored the outburst. 'Madame, with due respect, that is a tremendous accomplishment!'

  “The President rose to her feet and paced around her desk. 'It means nothing if those religionists continue to contaminate our citizens' souls! They're still getting mem product on the market, Britmeyer! And we sit here, ridiculously unable to stop their flow of revenue!'

  “Britmeyer nodded. 'We attempted to choke off the Genubei exports, Madame, but they promote small, craft batches of their specialty mems in different locations each time. They sell out everything at above asking price via these boutique gatherings.'

  “'Unacceptable! I won't allow them to prosper. They were to shrivel and we were to be the superior ones.'

  “'I understand, Madame. But, they really don't threaten our--'

  “'You understand nothing at all, Britmeyer.' The President stepped close to her senior adviser's face and tapped a fingertip on Britmeyer's solar plexus. 'They've played us for fools. Why didn't you notice what was happening?!'

  “The President crossed her arms and declared coldly, 'I want Kee involved. Get him on vid call.'

  “'Madame, he's not fully vetted for access-clearance. I caution you about impulsively--'

  “The President screamed, 'For Gods' sake, Britmeyer, not now!'

  “She abruptly modified her harsh tone as Kee's face appeared on the screen. 'Ah yes, greetings, my dear friend Kee. You are the perfect one to lead my essential project! Our citizens deserve quality, locally made, officially endorsed, patriotic mem collections. The need is now, more than ever.'

  “Kee nodded vigorously. 'Yes, Madame, I completely concur! These wouldn't be the regurgitated stories extracted from another human's brain, like the Genubei are selling. Ours would represent true purity in the service of abundance and national pride.'

  “'Very insightful, Kee. Britmeyer, get to work on a synopsis of those potentials. Now, Kee, let's you and I discuss the overarching vision for this new generation of powerful neuro-proselytizing… I know you grasp what I'm thinking! And, we wouldn't want any unfair competition from them… Kee, what can you tell me about the Genubei property perimeter? Any weaknesses?'

  “'Indeed, Madame. One access is unguarded and easy, through the Waste Plateau. It's a place that no one thinks about, and the Genubei are superstitious about the--'

  “'That is exactly what we need. You never disappoint, Kee. I shall have more to discuss with you.'”

  My human places her forehead on her palm and states that she is experiencing pain in her head.

  “We shall take an unscheduled break, dear, to attend to your present needs.”

  She nods and accepts my offer of frozen treats laced with pain reliever, then hot tea infused with a mild sedative.