The
magistrate took a deep breath. He
glanced at River, then the old toymaker, then back to Socrates. “It seems that the nature of this hearing has
suddenly changed. What began as an
inquisition into theft and murder is apparently now a hearing on the nature of
self-awareness.” The magistrate looked
him up and down. “Well, whatever you
are, you do seem remarkably intelligent.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” said Socrates.
“All right then. Make your case.”
“Process seven hundred, milk mileage
maleficent maelstrom mushroom mole.”
The magistrate blinked.
(from Killing The
Machine by Jamie Sedgwick)
7½*/10.
The complete review is here.
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