He could force Crichton to do it.  He prefers persuasion.


“Dammit, Harv!  Leave me alone!”  

“I wish to comprehend.”  

“You have access to every single one of my memories.  You are the ultimate neural junk collector.  
Find the explanation your damned self!”

“I have tried, John.  The rationale eludes me.”  

“Tough noogies.  Get lost.”




“NO!  Bugger off!”  

“Once, John, and then I will desist.”  

He remains silent, sensing an impending surrender.  

“Just once,” Crichton says.

“On my honor.”  

“I cannot believe I’m doing this!”  

Crichton sighs.  

“The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout … ”

                                                       * ~ * ~ * ~* ~ *
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