He woke up in complete darkness, and he did not know it was the second time consecutively. His face was hot, but something cold was pressed against it.
“Awake, number 17!”
He shook his head in confusion. He knew that was his name, but he had never heard it before. He wondered what the name was for this feeling, and a sort of light flickered in the back of his mind.
“Can you hear me, number 17!?”
A humming sound emerged; a stream of synthesized angelic voices at the edge of his hearing.
Apres vu... words of a dead language. Banned by the Corporation. How did he know this?
“If you fail to respond—”
France… dominant brands… culture as of the Day… implications in the Second Enlightenment conspiracy…
The voice sighed cynically. “He is lost in the database,” she said, now barely audible over the chorus. “Cut off his access.”
He surfaced, suddenly from the ocean of thought. The humming faded; the point of illumination flickered and died.
“Now, Number 17,” Aslog said, “your teaching can begin.”