I was walking around what looked like a corporate technology campus, with various buildings. One of them was labeled "Annex 25."
It was dusk or dark, and I noticed two CD cases on a wet grassy median between buildings. One had a red CD and the other had a blue CD. They seemed to be recordable media, and were written upon in sharpie. There was a small yellow Post-It pad between the discs.
I tried to read the Post-It pad and the writing on the discs. I'm not sure what it was saying, but it said each disc had thousands or millions of some kind of data (I couldn't figure out what the data items were). But one of the discs had the real information, while the other had deliberately faked data.
Picking up the cases I saw that each one actually had what looked like a factory-printed copy of Depeche Mode's "Violator" album hidden in the case behind the recordable CD. The surface of the CD itself was printed with the distinctive black background and red/white flower running through the middle.
Upon waking and looking it up, I realize that CD appearance is not congruent with the packaged copies of Violator I have seen (such as the one I owned). That was simply the reflective surface of the CD with some print of the letters "DM" and the title and track names. I suppose in the time that the album came out, doing full color prints on the back surface of a CD was not as cheap to do as it is today.
I felt like I had happened across something vital, and the information was important. Wanting to get the data to some other place, I tried to hail a taxi. But thumbing at cars which went by caused a traffic jam, and I was intercepted by some security guards who took me and the CDs into a blank-seeming room in a building.
While the guards held me, a woman readied some sort of injection or attack. I rolled my eyes.
me: (angry) "Oh we're going to have to go through this again. WHY DO YOU NEED TO DO THIS."
woman: (seemingly maliciously) "Why? Because you're different. It's pointless talking to you."
me: "Well, aren't we all different. And it seems like you guys with your injections are the pointless ones, incapable of change or reason. If we just talked and learned then maybe that would make us change, and I'd change a little in a direction toward a direction you also thought that would make you different. We still might not be the same but we could be a little less different-er overall than before."
As I was held down and injected I stayed aware as long as I could, and snarled at the people in the room.
me: "A smart thing can be nice and try and work things out with you for only so long. If you keep this up, eventually that smart thing is going to use its smarts to deploy something very...very...dangerous. You have been warned. But at some point, the warnings will stop."
Ok, fine: at one level I'm bluffing and don't have any idea what I'm talking about. But at another level, I do seem to be getting better at holding out. And if it were me, I personally wouldn't pick fights with alien mind monsters--who come in peace and seem to survive every attack you throw at them. Their funeral. (Maybe?)
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