Alien Beast

“Insight?” I ask. “Save it, Elon. Computers aren’t the same thing as real life.”

A cynical smile rests on his face. “Must there always be an ulterior motive?” he asks. “I simply want to know what life really means. Don’t you?”

“I’ll leave that to the scientists and astronauts,” I say. “You know, people with adequate training.”

His hand waves over a sensor. The automatic door slides open, revealing a grand staircase into the natural world. Only, this isn’t my world I’m staring at. It’s a green forest, complete with deer, brown bears, and the sounds of crickets chirping in the distance.

This is a world of living furniture, Elon’s brand name software, created and packaged, but not marketed to anyone but myself. And I have to admit, I’m curious.

“We don’t have to leave Earth to find new worlds,” he says.

A secret door slides open. Inside is an artificial realm, a copy of the world inside our heads. A better idea of our world.

I feel my heart flutter with a strange excitement. “We don’t?”

He whispers, “We just have to dream them.”

I step through the door, hand wrapped around the railing. As I make my way into the green simulation, the noises grow louder. The warm, humid air weighs heavy on my shoulders. Thick leaves surround my body, drawing me toward moonlight.

Elon’s voice is distant. He says, “Remember. Love finds you in the strangest of places,” he says.

“Elon?” I call out.

But as I turn, the door shuts. He’s gone.

Elon believes this place opens you up, that it allows you to access your deeper self. The self you always wanted to become. But the more I open my eyes, the less real my reality turns out to be.

Like a dream, I search for a way out.

But there are no more doors, and the path that leads me inside takes a turn into more shrouded mystery.

I’m on the inside. There’s no turning back now.

Game on.

3

Kalxor

I’ve lived through many lives.

Heard too many stories to count.

Been on a path toward destruction since my birth. I’ve seen enough misery and damnation to know the truth.

This reality is something we choose.

But all of it washes away. Like a stain.

The love we make. The emotions I feel. None of it is important. Another cycle will pass, and I will forget again.

All of this will start over.

Who I am, who I really am, is something I’ve yet to discover. But I have a feeling all of that is starting to change.

I’m starting to remember.

“Wake up.”