The Quantum Connection

. . . nothing.

But there was something at the same time; I felt as though I had been asked a question. It was weird. I was still me. I was aware of everything around me and I could move and think normally. But. It felt like a question is the best I can do as far as describing it. But it was more than that. A moment or two passed and then a visual image flashed in my mind.

? 

A blinking question mark is what I thought of. I could see the damned thing on television screens, billboards, signs, and computer monitors. . . . When I thought that, computer monitors, the question mark image blinked away and there was a new image.

C:> 

C:> 

It was a computer screen with a C:> blinking on and off. It was a DOS prompt! Why the hell was I seeing a DOS prompt? 'I'm sure the aliens must've long since upgraded to some better operating system, ha ha,' I joked with myself. Then the reality of my wisecrack caught up with me.

That was it! The question was not a question. It was the operating system of a computer. It was a prompt of some type waiting for a user input or command. The alien computer must be using my memories to explain itself to me. Why not?

So, I tried it.

Where am I? I thought.

You are here. Popped into my head in a generic and asexual tone of voice.

'Whoa! That was weird,' I mumbled.

I thought about it a little more analytically and from the approach a programmer would take in designing an operating system. After all, I had designed an operating system before, so I should be able to understand this one, right?

'Okay, this is tricky. Garbage in, garbage out,' I said out loud.

With relation to where I was abducted, where am I now? 

Here. An image of the solar system popped in my head and a red blinking dot appeared near one of Saturn's moons.

Am I in a spaceship? 

Yes. 

'Well, I guess that was obvious, huh?' I said this out loud and got no response from the alien computer. That gave me an idea as to the protocols for the system.

Will you respond to verbal commands? 

Only if programmed to do so. 

'I thought so.'

How big is the ship? I thought and immediately an image of the ship zipped into my mind's eye and for scale relation a man was standing beside it and a large passenger jet was above it; a 747. The 747 was smaller by four of five times.

How many more Grays are aboard this vessel? 

Eleven. 

Are they aware I am speaking to you? 

No. 

Why? 

They have not asked about you. 

What are you? 

I am an information control and distribution intelligence. 

'An Agent, he's a damned Agent,' I said and then I realized that he wasn't just an Agent. 'Holy shit! It's a SuperAgent! An Alien SuperAgent program.' This led me to believe that there was a computer core here somewhere. And all at once, like a baptism and a Tourrette's spasm combined, I could see and understand what I had been working on for the Air Force. They had an alien computer and were reverse engineering it! They had an alien computer! Holy shit, the Air Force, the CIA, and this Group W-squared has an alien computer!

Are you a SuperAgent the way I understand them? There was a brief pause.

Yes. 

Are you the only one like you on this spaceship? 

Yes. 

Are there other lesser Agents then? 

Yes. 

Where are you? 

Here. A map of the ship appeared in my head and a picture of the green and orange cube I had seen at CIA Headquarters flashed in my mind. I knew just how to find it. I