Everfree- Humanity's Last Stand

New York, 2024

More specifically, 6:00 AM, one particularly unremarkable Wednesday morning.

Why do we dream?

It should be a simple enough question, really- every single day, with next to no exception, our brain feels the need to go comatose for hours at a time, plunging us into vivid hallucinations while some small shred of us remains conscious to glimpse at it all.

On paper, it looks like a simple question. Unfortunately, the world is not one big piece of graph paper. And simple questions can't ever have simple answers.

Some have suggested that our brain simply needs to sort memories into order of importance, lest we forget something vital to our everyday lives. Others have suggested that as a hunter-gatherer race, sleep was a useful tactic to evolve so we wouldn't accidentally wander into the waiting maw of some predator of the night. And some, like the notable J Ernest Clark- A comedian who quickly rose to international fame in 2018 before fading even faster into obscurity, suggested that sleep was a necessary measure to 'Mask the transmissions of our brainwaves overnight, so that we wouldn't attract the unwanted attention of our lizard overlords.'

I'm not particularly inclined to believe the last one. But then again, what do I know?

To me, sleep lacks substance. It's a lot like folders in a filing cabinet- it defines each day as a new experience, preventing my life from melding into one long afternoon. I don't notice it as an integral part of my life, and more often than not I take it for granted. All of us do. But without it, we would struggle to find meaning to our existence, as bags of atoms and molecules that looked up at the stars and began to think.

So, what are sleep and dreams to us? Are they like an old friend, whose comforting embrace we fall into each night to ease us of the day's troubles? Or are they a ferryman, carrying us through the shadowy realms of unconsciousness to a new day? Are they a guardian, whose watchful oversight over the cogitations of our mind help us keep our sense of reality in check? Should we fear our sleep and our dreams? The absolute power that our subconscious mind holds over our actions and our thoughts allow us to discern what is real and what is not. What would happen, should that mechanism go awry?

Our dreams mean something. Something so very important.

It was a Wednesday morning. More specifically, a rainy Wednesday morning. Water droplets pattered ceaselessly against the windows as I tried to escape back to the illusionary world of my dream, where I didn't have a life that required near-constant attention and maintenance. Five more minutes, I soundlessly pleaded to some nameless deity.

But sadly, my efforts were in vain. My alarm clock went off.

They say that silence is golden. If so, then the way it was shattered irreverently by my alarm clock that morning would likely be enough to make more than a few rich men turn in their graves.

Synthesized chirping noises filling the room, and my ruined blissful slumber lying in tatters around my tired mind, I turned to my wife for support, which came in the form of a few nudges my way and a muffled “Turhn it orff”.

Closing my eyes, I spoke to the ceiling. “ Carl, turn off the alarm please.”

A few moments of silence, save for the alarm and the low hum of motors, followed by a response.

I'm sorry, but I didn't understand that request. From my earlier records, did you mean “Turn off the fucking alarm or I'll break your legs, if you have any. My head hurts. Does that light have to be so bright”?

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” As long as it makes that godawful noise stop.

The source of the disembodied voice, 'Carl' (as he had opted to be called)  was a tangle of transistors and wires, heaped onto a slice of silicon. His body (if it could be called that) rested somewhere in the ceiling.

Carl was one of a handful of remaining original models of ZoneTecs' , a UK- based tech company that burst onto the global scene in 2016 with a revolutionary range of affordable consumer AI systems, of which 'Carl' was an early model. However, a programming glitch in an update that was later attributed to a tub of lard, a computer running an archaic system once known as 'Windows XP' and 4 medium-sized ducks meant that the normally neutral AI gained a somewhat cynical personality. While it was a blow for the company's shareholders, it was not until one AI managed to convice a number of suicide hotline operators to hang themselves with phone cords that the company filed for bankruptcy. The remaining AI's were incinerated, save for a few such as the one that now resided in my ceiling.

I slid out of bed in an almost serpentine manner, not daring to use my legs until my knees contacted the cold wooden floor. Stumbling to my feet, I shambled down the hallway towards the kitchen.

My phone was on the countertop, a bevelled piece of rectangular glass with a slight grey tint and rounded corners. While many had long since opted to use contact lenses and Augmented Reality technology, replacing the once-vital smartphone of old,` I was one of a few who had stubbornly refused. I liked to have a physical piece of technology to hold in my hands, and besides, the idea access to Vreader 24 hours a day bugged me. What's the point of it really, other than to bury productivity 6 feet under? Of course, the Europium price scare of 2016 meant that anything with a screen ended up costing about 4 times more than it did before, but it's a necessary sacrifice for me.

Underneath the frosted glass countertop, a rectangle of subdued white light glowed softly. Dropping  my phone into it, the room came alive. The lights turned on, shifting their brightness as to compensate for the fact that I was still hungover, and a panel that sat flush with the rest of the wall flared to life. Conveniently, a kettle of water also started to boil. If it wasn't for his cynicism, I could almost admire Carl's elegance.

...and President Eisenoff announced today a further increase in taxes on the extraction and refining of all crude-oil based products, making it harder still for oil companies to turn over a profit. Since riots in Saudi Arabia over two years ago meant that oil to much of the developed world was cut off, Price shocks coupled with increasing global awareneshave meant that 84% of Americans now are against the further extraction and use of oil. Many have hailed the President's decision as a step in the right direction for reducing environmental pollution, although some worry that reductions in profitability may lead companies like the once-multinational petroleum giant BP to expand their operations as much as possible in order to stave off the tax hikes.

And in other news today, the presenter droned on with an emotionless tone of voice. I could swear that she was descended from robot parents, what with her lively personality and all. New studies have revealed that up to 60% of Alzheimer patients state that they do not in fact have Alzheimers'. More after the break.

Turning down the volume as the adverts filled the screen, now awash with all manner of vivid colours, my phone started to ring. Looking over from the now boiling kettle of water to see who it was, my blood ran cold.

Suddenly forgetting of the world around me, my coffee cup hit the floor. It didn't shatter, nor did it have any liquid in it, as my wife had insisted that we use plastic mugs for this exact reason. It's a shame though, some subconscious part of me thought. The cup breaking as it hit the floor would have added a nice emphatic effect.

You see, there's something you should know about me.

If you were to meet me what, and more importantly who, would you see?

Would you see Max Petrus, the man who tried to escape his childhood too soon, landing a job as a bank clerk and now yearning for days long since past?

Or would you see Maxmillian Percival Petrus, the man who works for an above-government organization that officially doesn't exist?

Of course, we all have secrets. Some are just a lot bigger than others. We control what other people see, and ultimately think, of us. They only see what we want them to see. And nothing more.