Well, that was good. It meant that verbal communication was possible, at least in principle. The bad news was the choice for that first word. Most likely it wasn’t coincidence.

Then a bunch of chrome Ivans flew out and did battle with the Dishwasher Liberation Front. He couldn’t keep from laughing. The computer was obviously seeing everything Ivan saw, including an old Avengers movie from the early 21st century that he had watched. The fighting was both over the top and physically impossible.

But it raised some issues. Was Ivan part of the Dishwasher Oppression Empire? There were definitely two groups, but no clear idea of motives or who were the good guys. If he’d still been human, Ivan was sure he’d have a headache by now.

One thing was certain—this wasn’t a straightforward good-vs.-evil thing. The computer in his head might have humanity’s best interests in mind, or it might just need more cannon fodder. Ivan would have to play this very close to the vest, until he had some clarity on where the greatest danger lay.

* * *

Communications continued to improve over the next several hours. Ivan lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, but not really seeing it. In his mind’s eye, a three-dimensional representation of his room gave him details that he couldn’t possibly have seen. The area under his bunk, spaces between the walls, and the wiring and plumbing conduits were as visible to him as if the walls had been made of glass. Glowing spots and trails indicated the positions of nanites, on and in the walls.

This ability had simply appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t know if the computer had explicitly decided to give him this extra sense, of if it was simply a side-effect of the improving communications. He and the computer still couldn’t talk, as such. But a pidgin had been established, consisting of pictures, emotional overtones, and occasional words whose definitions had been agreed upon. Human. Nanite.Computer. And war.

This last session had been about the nanites. Sort of. Mostly. The chrome animals that he’d been seeing were, if he understood correctly, sentient beings who had gone through the same process as he had. But voluntarily. The nanites could form any shape, any desired physiology. Which meant that an actual decision had been made at some level that Ivan would continue to be shaped like a human being rather than a seven-tentacled land-squid.

I wonder if that’s subject to appeal?

If he could sense the nanites, perhaps they could sense him in some way.

Ivan held his hand up in front of his face and stared at his fingers. Then he glanced at the surveillance camera. If he could really, actually morph, doing it on Vid might not be in his best interests. How could—