It all seems like a bad dream. As I step out onto the large outdoor balcony that runs the length of the building, I can see the bright lights around the building. I hear the sounds of trucks, but these days the traffic is mostly trucks leaving the city—and we all know that the shipments that once arrived here arrived, and can leave again. Each night the headlights of all the trucks slowly make a path from the doors to the back of our building. It is late, I complain to the tunnel of light.
The information that I seek is tucked into a very small synthleech somewhere around the back of the building. Even with a head light search, it is pretty hard to find such small things. We tried to figure out a way to use them to get into the building; but it is not possible to hide such an object that is not strapped onto someone who is allowed in the building. The synthleech is active and fully charged; as I first use it, I hear the constant beeping in my ear.
The signal is coming from far, far back in the truck. Whatever is in the truck is also communicating with me. Oh, my God, if this works, then I can not only get information from the building; but I might be able to put a stop to the transfer process, too. Everything is so automated now that I simply don't see a way to roll back the changes that are occurring. No one cares that the brain activity of the people who undergo this process drops significantly.
We tried everything that we could think of, but I just do not see a way to use the information as anything beyond just making people feel better. We even tried to get into the building late at night, but we could not get in, even with the robot with the two arms that we built.
The robot is made out of two of my arms which were destroyed in a mishap several weeks ago. A hypodermic needle slipped off my hand and pierced the skin. I was so startled that I didn't even realize that my hand was bleeding until I went to the mirror and saw the blood dripping down my arm. I could not think of any other explanation. The eye in the robot was what we thought would be a way to track if anyone had gone in the building.
If I put that same robot with the hypodermic needle and eyes into a backpack and strapped it to myself I could go in and retrieve the information. It would not have my hands, but with the knowledge that my hands would heal, I could still pull the needle out after I had retrieved the information. I could get the information and then I could hide the robot and refill the needle. If I did all of those things nobody would even know that I had pulled the information out of the building. I could be on the phone to security or even talk about the strange light that had been on and off inside the building for the last couple of weeks.
For every month that I have gone into the building with a robot, the light never has gone out and yet, this time, I can hear the strange sound of the lock being opened. It makes me feel sick, but I push the feeling away and focus on the job at hand. There is no use stalling; I have to get the information and get out of here. I take heavy sigh as I look along the path of the tunnel of truck headlights. I slowly begin to move off of the balcony and slowly walk across the empty parking lot to the door where I used to work.
This building was originally designed for machines to work on, but now we are working on humans. This is not the plan, but we have arrived at this point in the game. We have been studying the results for almost three years as the changes have happened. I walk through the entrance. Behind me the doors slowly closed.
The robots are in place; when I make a signal, I will know that I can go. But what if the signal never comes back? I put my hand on the door handle. I put my other hand on the lever to open the doors, but when I pull the lever all I feel is a thump, then it is just silence. I try again and again and again, but silence. I finally, reluctantly, walk back across the parking lot to the hangar.
I step up onto the small ledge that the last robot left on the building. It is ok, the lights will come back on soon, I remind myself. The signal comes not only from inside the building, but also outside of it. I need to get to it before the signal vanishes. I look across the parking lot again.
To my left, I can see the illuminated building. They are still in there. I can see the lights move away from me as I turn around to face the balcony where I work. All of my work is still there, or at least it will be if I can get back there.
My scooter is originally for robots, but it is the only way for me to make the trek inside the building. I look around again at the building far ahead. I want to turn around and go back, but I know that if I do, I will not only be alone; I will not be able to go a second time. Come on, I gently smack the top of the handlebars of my scooter. The scooter starts to move by itself. Consciously I try to control it, but it will not obey.
I turn it so that it faces the outlines of the building. I feel the inertial force pushing me forward. I can not control it at all. I will simply let it go. I hear the scooter hum as the wheels spin and then I see the headlights part and then close behind me.
I look up again. I can't see the lights; I can only see the top of the building. I can see the outline of the edge of the balcony on the building.
I can't see the lights; I can only see the top of the building. I can see the outline of the edge of the balcony on the building. That is where I will go. I am no longer on the scooter. I am walking down the ramp that leads to the door that I used to work. Even if I am only here in a dream, I still feel unsteady. I know that I can't pass out while I am here.
Passing out will lead to being unconscious when the signal comes and my dream may end. I look around one more time. I see the door to my old lab. I can feel the pain around my heart. Something is wrong, very wrong. I will be able to wake up soon anyway, I try to tell myself.
Just get the information and go.
I grab the first set of papers off my desk and shove them in the backpack; I am trying to calm myself and concentrate on the task. I am not thinking about the dream at all. The next set of papers goes as well. I can feel everything in slow motion again. I must have knocked my head during the breakdown in the parking lot. I must have knocked my head when my scooter left me. I look around again and again. I can feel my pupils dilating as I look back over my shoulder. I can feel blood pumping into my head, but I feel no pain.
I am far from my body and I have to keep it that way. I have to get back to my body soon; I need to get to my body soon because I think that I need it. I stand up on the desk and reach for a set of papers on a bookshelf. I see the box of hypodermic needles that I have been using for the last few weeks. I begin to understand that I am not just dreaming now. I am not even sleeping; I have fallen into the backup system that they have cobbled together. I didn't get the information! I grab the needle, but I miss the box.