19
Hiawatha National Forest
October 23rd 2032
The first thing Redhawk was aware of was the sharp ache inside his skull, as though someone had punched him in the brain. Then came the voice.
“Don’t try to talk or open your eyes just yet,” someone said. By the tone it was a woman. She sounded far away, yet also strangely near, as though she was whispering into his ear. “Your senses have been scrambled. You’re suffering from synesthesia. Listen to the sound of my voice and it will pass in a few minutes.”
Redhawk knew what she said was true. The feel of the earth against his hands and face was the smell of lemon rinds and asparagus. The taste of the air shot a thousand colors into his brain, colors humans would never be able to see with the primitive eyes they had. And the voice was the fe
