Chapter 8 Chapter One

The last thing that worked were the black jelly beans. Jared glanced at the candy stalls in the military store on the Phoenix space station, and ignored them when he saw them. He liked chocolate better; but he couldn’t help but look back. It was a small individual jar, and all kinds of jelly beans were mixed in Together.His gaze was drawn back to the black jelly beans for the fifth time, and Jared asked, "Why did you do this? What's so special about black jelly beans?" "Those who love it love it, and those who don't like it hate it," the clerk said. "Most people don't like it, and find it troublesome to pick them out of the pile of jelly beans. Those who love food prefer to pack them in a small bag. So I always stock up, but in separate jars."

"Do you like it or not?" Jared asked. "Totally unbearable," the clerk replied, "but my husband can't get enough of it and likes to blow at me while he's eating it, just to annoy me. I just kicked him out of bed once. No Black jelly beans?" "No," said Jared, his mouth drooling slightly, "but I want to try." "Very brave." The clerk said, picked up a small transparent plastic bag filled with jelly beans and handed it to Jared.Jared took it, pulled out two, and the clerk noted the deal; Jared was a member of the Guards, and he didn't need to pay for jellybeans (like everything else, jellybeans are free, and Guardsmen always It is affectionately calling this a free hell tour), but the clerk has to record what the soldiers bought, and collect money from the Defense Force accordingly.Capitalism goes into space and is alive and well.

Jared popped two jelly beans into his mouth, crushed them with his molars, and paused, waiting for his saliva to bring the scent of licorice to his tongue, over the palate, and into his nasal cavity.He closed his eyes and realized that the jelly beans were just as delicious as he remembered.He grabbed a handful and popped it into his mouth. The clerk looked at his frantic behavior and asked, "How is it?" "Okay," Jared said, chewing. "Excellent." "I'm going to tell my husband that he has another partner," said the clerk. Jared nodded and replied, "Two, my youngest daughter also likes it very much."

"That's even better," the clerk said, but by then Jared had left, lost in his own thoughts, and headed to his office.Jared walked ten steps, swallowed his mouthful of jelly beans, reached out to continue to take them, but stopped suddenly. My little girl, he thought, as the grief and memory fell heavily on his head, and he convulsed and vomited jellybeans out into the hallway.He coughed and spat out the remaining fudge in his throat as a name came to mind. Zoe, Jared thought.my daughter.My dead daughter. A hand patted his shoulder.Jared flinched, almost slipping on the vomit when he backed away, and the bag of jelly beans in his hand flew out.He looked at the woman who patted him, who was a soldier of the Defense Force.She looked at Jared strangely, and there was a short and sharp buzzing in her head, like talking ten times faster.It sounded once, and again, like two slaps in the skull.

"What are you doing?" Jared called to the woman. "Dirac," she said, "calm down. Tell me, what's wrong with you?" Jared was only confused and terrified. He fled quickly with heavy steps, bumping into several pedestrians along the way. Jane Sagan watched Dirac stagger away, looking down at the black puddle of vomit and the scattered jelly beans.She turned to look at the candy stand and walked over. "You," she said, pointing to the shopkeeper, "what happened just now?" "The guy came over, bought some black jelly beans," said the owner, "said he liked it, popped a handful into his mouth, and walked a few steps before spitting it all out."

"That's all?" Sagan asked. "That's it," the owner said. "I talked to him a little bit about my husband's love for black jelly beans, and he said his kids liked them too, and walked away with the jelly beans." "He talked about his kids?" Sagan asked. "Yes," said the shopkeeper, "he said he had a little girl." Sagan looked along the corridor, but Dirac had disappeared.She ran in the direction Dirac had gone, trying to call General Schillard at the same time. Jared came to an elevator in the space station, the people inside came out, he went in, pressed the button for the floor where his laboratory was located, and suddenly found that he had a green arm.He withdrew his hand suddenly, and his arm slammed against the car wall. The pain made him realize that it was actually his arm, and he couldn't get rid of it.The other people in the car looked at him strangely, and one person's gaze was particularly venomous.He narrowly missed hitting the woman as he twitched his arm.

"Sorry," he said.The woman snorted and assumed an elevator posture looking straight ahead.Jared followed suit, seeing his own vague green reflection on the brushed metal walls of the elevator.Jared's confusion and anxiety bordered on terror, but one thing was clear to him: he couldn't go mad in an elevator full of strangers.Social conditioning worked in this moment, keeping him from being overwhelmed by the panic caused by identity confusion. Jared stood there silently, waiting for the elevator to reach his floor, and if he had taken a few seconds to ask who he was, he would have been surprised to find that he had no definitive answer at all.However, he did not do this, and ordinary people generally would not doubt their identity.Jared knew something was wrong with green skin, that his lab was three floors down, that his daughter Zoe was dead.

The elevator came to Jared's floor. He stepped out of the elevator and stepped into a wide passage.There are no candy stands or military stores on this level of the Phoenix space station.Every hundred feet or so stood Defenders guarding the corridors leading to the depths of this floor.There are biometrics and BrainPal/artificial brain scanners at the entrance of every hallway, scanning everyone who approaches.If the man was not allowed to enter that corridor, the Guardsmen would stop him before he reached the corridor entrance. Jared knew he was logically able to enter most of the corridors, but wondered if this strange body could enter any of them.He walked down the passage, looking like he knew exactly where he was going.He walked toward the corridor where his lab and office were located.Once there, he might be able to figure out what to do next.Almost at the entrance of the corridor, he found that all the defenders in the passage turned and stared at him.

Damn it, Jared thought.Not fifty feet ahead was his hallway.Impulsively, he ran over and was surprised to find that his body was able to rush towards the target so quickly.The soldiers guarding the corridor were also swift and fierce. The soldiers raised their MPs, but Jared took the first step and slapped the soldiers heavily.The soldier hit the corridor wall and fell to the ground.Jared ran past the soldiers without stopping, toward the laboratory door, two hundred feet down the corridor.Running and running, the alarm bells rang out all around, and the emergency doors were closed one after another.An emergency door popped out of the hallway wall, sealing off the area in half a second, and Jared squeezed through at the last moment, narrowly missing his target.

Jared ran to the door of the laboratory and pushed it away.Inside was a Defense Forces military research technician and a Raleigh.Seeing the Raleigh man standing in his laboratory, Jared couldn't move because of the cognitive contradictions. Fear was like a dagger, piercing through the confusion at this moment.What he was afraid of was not the Le Rey people, but being exposed for doing something dangerous, terrible, and deserved to be punished.Jared's mind raced, searching for memories and explanations for this fear, but nothing came to mind. Shaking his head, the Rraey walked around the test stand where he was, and walked towards Jared.

"You're him, aren't you?" said the Raleigh, with a strange but understandable English accent. "Who?" Jared asked. "They made soldiers to trap a traitor," said the Rorai, "but it didn't work." "I don't understand what you mean," Jared said. "This is my laboratory. Who are you?" The Rraei shook his head again, saying, "Maybe they did it after all." The Rraei pointed to himself and said, "Kennen. Scientist, prisoner. Now you know who I am. Do you know who you are?" " Jared opened his mouth to answer, suddenly realizing that he didn't know who he was.He stood there with his mouth open for a few seconds, until the emergency door swung open, and the female soldier he had just talked with walked into the room, raised a gun, and hit him in the head. "First question," said General Schillard.Jared was lying in the infirmary of the Phoenix space station, still not fully waking up from the stun bomb. Two Guards guards stood guard at the end of the bed, and Jane Sagan stood by the wall. "Who are you?" "Private Jared Dirac," Jared replied.He didn't ask Schillard who it was, because BrainPal recognized him the moment the General walked into the room.Schillard's BrainPal also had no trouble figuring out who Jared was, so the question wasn't just about identification. "I'm stationed on the Kite, and my commanding officer is Lieutenant Sagan, and she's standing over there." "Second question," General Schillard said, "do you know who Charles Boutin is?" "I don't know, sir," Jared said. "Should I know?" "It's possible," said Schillard, "that we found you at the door of his laboratory. You told the Le Rai that this was your laboratory. Explain that you thought you were Charles Boutin, at least there. Think so for a minute. Lieutenant Sagan said you didn't respond to your own name when she talked to you." "I remember not knowing who I was," Jared said, "but not thinking I was someone else." "But you went to Boutin's lab, and you've never been there," Schillard said. "We know you didn't use a BrainPal to call up a map of the space station to find the lab." "I can't explain it," Jared said. "The memory is in my head." Jared saw this and Schirard glanced at Sagan. The door opened and two men walked in.Before the Brainmates could identify them, one of them strode up to Jared. "Do you know who I am?" he said. Jared knocked him to the ground with one blow.The guard held up his MP, and Jared, recovering from his sudden anger and impulsiveness, immediately raised his hands. The man stood up, and it was only then that Jared's BrainPal recognized him: General Greg Mattson, head of the Bureau of Military Research. "That's the right answer." Mattson raised his hand and covered his right eye.He strode into the bathroom to check on his injuries. "Don't be so sure," Schillard said.He turned to Jared and asked, "Private, do you know the man who was punched by you just now?" "I know he's General Mattson now," Jared said, "but I didn't know it when I hit him." "Why did you hit him?" asked Schillard. "Don't know, sir," Jared said, "just..." He stopped. "Private, answer my question," Schillard said. "It just felt right at the time," Jared said. "I can't explain why." "He does remember some things," Schillard said, turning to Mattson, "but not all, and doesn't remember who he is." "Bullshit," Mattson said in the bathroom, "he remembers enough for him to punch me in the head. I've been wanting to punch me like this for ages." "He may have remembered it all, General, but wants you to believe he doesn't," another man said to Schillard.Jared's BrainPal recognized him as Colonel James Robbins. "It's possible," Schillard said, "but his behavior so far doesn't support that. If he really was Butin, he wouldn't be interested in letting us know he remembered anything. It wouldn't be wise to beat up a general. " "It's really not wise," Mattson said as he walked out of the bathroom. "It's just venting." He turned to Jared, pointing to the eyes—a ring of bruises from the brain's blood that had been smashed out of its veins. "On Earth, I'd have a dark circle around my face for weeks. I should have shot you for violating military discipline." "I said general." Schillard said. "Don't be afraid, Schillard," Mattson said, "I agree with your speculation. Boutin wouldn't be stupid enough to beat me, so he's not Boutin. But a little bit of Boutin is starting to show up, I Wondering how much we can get Boutin out." "The war Boutin wants to start is over, General," said Jane Sagan. "The Enisha will stab Le Rey in the back." "Well, that's all right, Lieutenant," said Mattson, "but as far as the situation is concerned, there's still two-thirds of the problem left unsolved. The Obin's still figuring something out. They say Boutin's with them, I see. It's too early to declare victory and call off the hunt. We still need to understand what Butin knows, the private has two personalities fighting in his head, and maybe we can do a little more to encourage that guy to come out and do the show. He turned to Jared and said, "Private, what do you think? People call you the Ghost Brigade, but you're the only one with real ghosts in your head. Want to get him out?" "With all due respect, sir, I still don't know what you're talking about," Jared replied. "Of course you don't," Mattson said. "Obviously you don't know anything about Charles Boutin except where the lab is." "One more thing," Jared said, "that he has a daughter." General Mattson carefully touched the dark circles under his eyes, and replied: "There used to be, private." Mattson put down his hand and turned to Schillard, "Schillad, I want you to return him to me." He said, noticing Lieutenant Sagan glaring at Schillard.There is no doubt that she is sending Schillard the kind of mental message that Special Forces speaks in lieu of. "For the time being, Lieutenant," he said, "I'll pay you back when it's used up, and I promise not to break it. Besides, if he is shot and killed while performing a mission with you, we won't be able to ask anything." "You didn't have to worry about him getting shot in the line of duty," Sagan said. "Sir." "Geez, the arrogance that the Special Forces are known for," Mattson said. "Just wondering when you're going to be six years old." "I'm nine years old," Sagan said. "I'm one hundred and thirteen, so you have to listen to your great-great-grandfather," Mattson said. "I didn't care about him before because I didn't think he was useful. Now he might be useful, but I certainly don't." I hope he dies. If it turns out to be useless in the end, of course I can give it back to you. It's none of my business whether I love it or not, but you don't have the right to vote anyway, so please shut up, Lieutenant, and let your lords talk about your lords." Sagan was furious, but kept his mouth shut. "What are you going to do with him?" said Schillard. "Under the microscope, of course," Mattson replied, "figure out why the memory leaked, and see if it can lead to something else." He gave Robbins a thumbs up, "On the surface, he Will be assigned to Robbins as an assistant. And privately, I hope he can stay in the lab for a while. The Le Rey scientist we took over from you is getting more and more useful in the lab. I want to see him What can you do with this guy?" "You think you can trust a Rraey?" Schillard asked. "Shit, Schillard," Mattson said, "he has a camera in his ass when he shits, and he's going to die if he doesn't give him medicine for a day. He's the only scientist I have that I can trust 100% .” "Okay," said Schillard, "you gave him to me as soon as I opened my mouth last time, so give it back to you this time. But remember he's one of us, General, and you know what I mean to me." What is the attitude of a person." "Reasonable," Mattson said. "The transfer order has been placed in your pending affairs," Schillard said, "it will take effect after you approve it." Schillard nodded to Robbins and Sagan, glanced at Jared, turned and walked out infirmary. Mattson turned to Sagan: "If you have anything to say goodbye, just say it." "Thank you, General," Sagan said.She said to Jared, "What the fuck." "I still don't know what happened and who Charles Butin is," Jared said. "I tried to access the database, but the information about him is classified." "You'll soon find out," Sagan said. "Whatever you're about to learn, I want you to remember that in the end you are Jared Dirac and no one else. No matter how you were made Come out, make it for something, no matter what happens, you are Jared Dirac. I forget that sometimes, sorry. But I want you to remember." "I'll remember," Jared said. "Very good," Sagan said. "The Le Rey we mentioned just now is called Kenan. When you see him, tell Lieutenant Sagan that he asked him to cover you, and say that I owe him a favor." "I've met him," Jared said. "I'll tell him." "Sorry, hit you in the head with a stun round," Sagan said. "I had to, you know." "Of course," Jared said, "thanks. Goodbye, Lieutenant." Sagan left the room. Mattson pointed to the guard and said, "You two can go." The guard left the room.Mattson turned to Jared and said, "Now, Private, I'd like to believe that the seizure you had earlier today was not a common occurrence, but anyway, from now on, your BrainPal will be set to locate and record mode so you There is no way to surprise us, and we always know where to find you. Once the settings are changed, every defender soldier on the Phoenix space station will be given the order to shoot you. Before you know what you have in your head Before who and what are you planning, all your thoughts will be made public. Do you understand?" "Understood." Jared said. "Very well," said Mattson, "then, boy, welcome to the Office of Military Research." "Thanks, sir," Jared said, "now, would someone be kind enough to tell me what the hell is going on?" Mattson told Robbins with a smile: "You tell him." Then he left. Jared looked at Robbins. "Uh," Robbins said, "Hello." "That bruise on the head is interesting," Cainen said, pointing to the side of Jared's head.Kennen was speaking in Rraey, and Jared's BrainPal translated for him. "Thank you," Jared said, "I got shot." Jared spoke English, and after several months of studying, Kenan was already proficient in English. "I remember," Kennan said, "I was there. Speaking of which, I was knocked out by your Lieutenant Sagan too. You and me, we can open the club." Kennan turned to Harry, who was standing nearby. Wilson. "Wilson, you can join in too." "No," Wilson said. "I remember a wise man saying never join a club that offers you membership. Besides, I don't want to be stun bombed." "Coward," Kennan said. Wilson bowed: "Thank you for the compliment." "Well," Kennen turned his attention back to Jared, "you probably know why you're here." Jared recalled yesterday's awkward, oblique conversation with Colonel Robbins. "Colonel Robbins said I was born to put the consciousness of Charles Boutin in my brain, but it didn't work out. He said Boutin was a scientist here, but then he defected. He also said I The new memory felt was actually Boutin's old memory, and no one knows why the memory didn't surface then, but now it pops up." "How much did he tell you about Butin's life and research?" Wilson asked. "Zero," Jared said. "He said that if I learned too much from him or from the files, it might interfere with the natural process by which memories emerge. Is that so?" Wilson shrugged.Kennan said, "You are the first human being to experience such a thing, so there is no precedent to guide us on what to do next. The closest thing to what you have is some kind of amnesia. Yesterday, you could find this lab room, remember the name of Butin's daughter, but you don't know how you know it. The situation is similar to source amnesia. But it's not the same, because the problem is not with your own memory, but with other human memory." "So you don't know how to get more memories out of my head," Jared said. "We have a few scenarios," Wilson said. "Imagine," Jared repeated. "It's more of a hypothesis," Kennan replied. "I remember telling Lieutenant Sagan many months ago that I think the reason Butin's consciousness didn't surface in your brain was because it was a mature Consciousness, put into an immature brain that doesn't have enough experience, consciousness can't find a foothold. But you have those experiences now, don't you? Seven months on the battlefield, any consciousness will become mature. Maybe your experience Something built a bridge to Boutin's memory." Jared reflected on the past. "The last mission," he said, "was the death of someone very important to me, and the death of Butin's daughter." How he broke down when the dagger was about to kill her, but he remembered these things at the same time. Kennan nodded, explaining that his understanding of human language also includes non-verbal signals, he said, "Yes, it may be that moment." "But why didn't the memory wake up at that time?" Jared asked, "It happened after I returned to the Phoenix star space station, and I was eating black jelly beans at that time." "." Wilson said. Jared looked at Wilson: "What?" "Actually, a more accurate translation of the title would be 'In Search of Lost Time,'" said Wilson, "a novel by Marcel Proust. The whole book begins with the main character dipping his tea into a cake, and then the floodgates open. It generally elicits childhood memories. Human memory is closely related to feelings. Eating jelly beans is likely to trigger certain memories, especially if there is any significance to jelly beans.” "I remember him saying that Zoe likes black jelly beans best," Jared said. "Boutin's daughter is named Zoe." "Perhaps eating jelly beans is enough to jog this memory," Kenan agreed. "Maybe you should have some more jelly beans," Wilson quipped. "I ate." Jared said seriously.He asked Colonel Robbins to buy him a small bag, having vomited on the spot the last time he was too embarrassed to do it himself.After receiving it, Jared sat in the newly arranged residence, holding his pockets and slowly eating jelly beans for an hour. "And then?" Wilson asked.Jared just shook his head. "Private, I'll show you something," Kennan said, pressing a button on his keyboard.Three small light shows appeared on the display area of ​​the test stand.Kennan pointed to one of them and said, "This one shows Charles Boutin's consciousness - a replica, thanks to his technological achievements, we can keep an archive. Next to it is your own consciousness, from your During training." Jared looked surprised. "Yes, private, they have been tracking and recording your situation; you have been their scientific research object since birth. But this is just a display. Unlike Butin's consciousness, they did not keep the archives. "The third is your current consciousness," Kennan said. "You have not been trained to read these display graphics, but anyone with a discerning eye can see that the third is significantly different from the other two. We believe that this is your For the first time, your brain is trying to fuse the Boutin consciousness with your own. What happened yesterday changed you, possibly permanently. Can you feel it?" Jared thought for a moment, and finally said, "I don't see any difference. New memories are new memories, but I don't think my behavior is any different from before." "Except for beating the general," Wilson said. "It was just an accident," Jared said. "No, it's not," Kennan said suddenly, "Private, that's all I'm going to say. When you were born they wanted you to be one person, but they made you another person. Now you're becoming a third person." , he is a combination of the previous two. If it continues and is successful, more butins will emerge one after another. But you will change. Your personality will change, and it may be very drastic. You will become A completely different person than you are now. I want to make sure you understand that because I want you to choose whether to do it or not." "Choose yourself?" Jared asked. "Yes, Private, pick your own," Kennan said, "something you rarely get a chance to do." He pointed to Wilson and said, "Lieutenant Wilson chose his life, he joined the Colonial Defense Force for his own sake." Willing, and you and all special forces soldiers have no right to choose. Private, do you realize that special forces soldiers are actually slaves? It is not up to you to decide whether to go to the battlefield, you have no right to refuse, and you are not even allowed to know that you can Can't say no." This series of arguments made Jared very uncomfortable. He said, "We don't see things that way. We are proud to serve." "Of course you're proud," Kennan said. "That's how they tuned you in when you were born. Your brain just kicks in. Brainmate thinks for you, picks certain branches on the selection tree, and cuts off others. ...by the time your brain can think for itself, the path to other options is blocked." "I've been making decisions," Jared retorted. "Not counting big decisions," Kennan said, "someone else made all the choices for you in your short life, through adaptation and military life, private. Someone chose to create you—you are the same as other soldiers in that; but they And choose to imprint someone's consciousness on your brain. They choose to make you a warrior, choose which battles they want you to face. They choose to turn you over to us when they see fit. They choose to Willing to choose to destroy your brain, to have Charles Boutin's consciousness replace yours, to turn you into someone else. But I choose to let you choose." "Why?" Jared asked. "Because I can decide," Kennan said, "and because you should choose. And because obviously no one else will allow you to choose. This is your life, Private. If you choose to proceed, we'll tell you something We think there's a way to unlock Butin's memory and personality." "What if I choose not to continue?" Jared said. "What will happen?" "We'll tell the Office of Military Research that we refuse to do anything to you," Wilson said. "They'll find someone else," Jared said. "That's for sure," Kennan said, "but at least you can make your choice, and we'll make ours." Jared realized that Kennan had a point.All the major choices in his life were made by other people for him.His right to make decisions is limited to trivial matters, or on the battlefield, if he makes other decisions, he will die.He doesn't consider himself a slave, but he has to admit that he never considered what it would be like not to be in Special Forces.Gabriel Breher told his training class that they could immigrate after the ten-year service period, and no one asked them why they had to serve for ten years.Special Forces training and outreach puts individual choices under the needs of the class or platoon; even fusion—the greatest military advantage of Special Forces—does its best to obliterate the individual's sense of self and integrate the individual into the collective. (Thinking of fusion, Jared suffered a moment of lonely pain. After the transfer order was issued, Jared's fusion with the second platoon was cut off. The underlying background sound composed of his comrades' thoughts and emotions disappeared, and a huge hole was replaced. His consciousness It was the first time that he was cut off from other people. If he hadn't been prepared, he would probably go crazy at the moment when he could no longer feel his comrades in arms. In fact, on the day of the cut off, most of Jared's time was very depressed. This It was a bloody and brutal amputation operation, but fortunately he knew it was only temporary, otherwise it would be really unbearable.) Jared grew increasingly restless, aware of the extent to which his life was controlled, dictated, ordered, and directed, and that he was utterly unprepared for the options Kennan offered him.His first instinct was to say no problem, he was willing to go on and get to know the Charles Boutin he was supposed to be, and then become that guy to a certain extent.However, he didn't know whether it was his own will or just because someone else asked him to.Jared suddenly felt resentment, not the Colonial Union and the Special Forces, but Kennan, because Kennan made him doubt the wisdom of the choices he and he had made—more precisely, whether he had a choice at all. "What about you?" Jared asked Kenan. "But I'm not you," Kennan said, refusing to continue.Wilson was equally reluctant to help.The two continued to work in the laboratory, and Jared stared at the three consciousness images that represented him in some way, lost in thought. "I've chosen," Jared said more than two hours later, "and I'm willing to continue." "Can you tell me why?" Kennan said. "Because I want to know more about all of this," Jared replied.Pointing to the image of the third consciousness, he said, "You say I am changing, I am becoming another person. I believe your words. But I still feel that I am still me. I think that no matter what happens, I will still be the same in the future." Me. Also, I want to know the truth." Jared pointed to Kennan and said: "You said that our special forces are slaves. You are right. I can't refute this. But they also said that all human beings are only born with a goal-to protect human safety. Before this, I had no choice whether to serve this purpose or not, but now I have a choice. I choose to continue." "You chose to be a slave," Kennen said. "No," said Jared, "I am no longer a slave when I make this choice." "But the path you've chosen is the one your slaves want you to take," Kennan said. "It's my choice," Jared said. "If Boutin wants to harm humans, then I want to stop him." "It means you become like him," Wilson said. "I was supposed to be him," Jared said, "and even if I became like him, I still have room for myself." "So it's your choice," Kennan said. "Yes." Jared replied. "Ha, thank God." Wilson was clearly heartbroken.Kenan also seemed to relax. Jared looked at them strangely and said to Kenan, "I don't understand." "Our order is to bring out as much Charles Boutin as possible in your head," Kennan said. "If you say no, we refuse to carry out the order, and that's probably my death sentence. Private, I'm a prisoner of war. The only reason I have this sliver of freedom is that I'm still of some use. If I'm rendered useless, the Defense Forces will withdraw the medicines that keep me alive, or kill me in some other way. Lieutenant Wilson should You don't get shot for disobeying orders, but as far as I know, the prisons of the Defense Forces are not good places to go." "All the disobedient ones went in, but no one was ever seen coming out," Wilson said. "Why didn't you tell me?" Jared said. "Because it wouldn't be fair to choose you that way," Wilson said. "We have privately decided to let you choose and accept any consequences," Kennan said. "Since we have made our decision in this matter, we hope that you will have the same freedom in making your decision." "Thank you for choosing to continue," Wilson said. "I almost peed my pants while you made the decision." "Sorry," Jared said. "Don't think about it," Wilson said, "because you still have a choice to make." "We came up with two options for potentially eliciting memories from Boutin's consciousness on a larger scale," Kennan said. "The first is a variation of the teleportation process that originally put Boutin into your brain. We It's possible to re-run the process, re-implanting his consciousness in your brain. Your brain is mature enough now that it's very likely that his consciousness will take hold—indeed, it may emerge at all. However, there are There could be serious consequences." "For example?" Jared asked. "For example, as new consciousness enters, your consciousness will be completely wiped out," Wilson said. "Uh," Jared said. "You can see how serious the problem is," Kennan said. "I'm afraid I don't want to choose that path," Jared said. "That's what we think," Kennan said. "That way, we have a less aggressive plan B." "What?" Jared said. "For a trip down memory lane," Wilson said, "the jelly beans are just the beginning."