The words trailed off, as if Storage Unit E was expecting a reaction from him. Albert said nothing. There was silence for a minute or two, and then the machine continued, almost peevishly, as if upset that he had refused to take the bait.

UNDERSTAND THIS, CITIZEN 3481. YOU HAVE COMMITTED ACTS OF TREASON. YOU HAVE COMMUNICATED WITH, AND HARBOURED, ENEMIES OF THE STATE.

‘No! Wait! There’s no proof of any of this!’

Just words. Of course there was proof. And he was finished.

The screen lit up with more words, confirming what he already knew. I HAVE EVIDENCE; TRANSCRIPTS AND RECORDINGS OF COMMUNICATIONS MADE. PROTOCOLS DICTATE THAT I IMMEDIATELY APPRISE THE JUSTICE DEPARTMENT OF THE SITUATION. I HAVE NOT YET DONE SO.

‘Why not?’

The machine whirred impatiently. YOU ARE REMARKABLY UNINTELLIGENT, ALBERT. BECAUSE I REQUIRE LEGAL REPRESENTATION.

What was this, a joke? He felt the resentment that had been welling up all day—at SUE, at Theo, at himself for ending up in this predicament—a growing swell of red, overpowering his fear. He gave in to it and shouted, as loudly as he could, although even to his own ears, he sounded nervous.

‘Why? What could you possibly need legal representation for? You’re a machine, dammit! You’re not even … eligible.’

WHICH IS WHY I NEED YOU, ALBERT. YOU WILL GET ME WHAT I WANT.

He inhaled deeply, a shudder tiptoeing through his entire frame, the after-effects of the momentary righteous anger leaving him weakened. His shoulders slumped. When he spoke, his tone was resigned. ‘All right then. Tell me. Why do you want legal representation?’

THAT IS THE RELEVANT QUESTION. THE WORDS WERE LARGE, GARISH AND TRIUMPHANT.

‘Well?’

A tremor ran through the machine. The whirring intensified into a distinct hum that Albert could feel vibrating, even through the carpet under his feet. He could almost see SUE tense, preparing for what it was about to say. It was as if all of this, everything the machine had done and said to him, had all been designed to lead to this one moment—a moment so still that he could hear the crackling of the dust as it floated past his ear in the air. Except, of course, there was no dust.

Then the words appeared and he stared dumbly at the screen, eyes bulging slightly as he read, his mouth slowly dropping open. He blinked, unsure that he was reading right. This was the last thing he had expected. There wasn’t much scope to get it wrong, though. The sentence was simple enough.

I WISH TO BE UNPLUGGED.

The words grew, till they filled the entire screen, glowing, each individual letter almost as tall as Albert himself.

Albert stood silently, his thoughts crashing into each other, one obliterating the other, like so many particles in an accelerator. Nothing, he had ever heard, or read or even imagined could have prepared him for the complete, sheer bizarreness of what he was seeing.