Eli woke to the dark room of his nightmares—the same bright lights above him, the same suit clinging to his body, nodules poking at muscle tissue. The cold table beneath him leeched him of warmth. But instead of panic, he felt a wave of relief.
He wasn't crazy.
This place was real. This nightmare was tangible. He could smell the machinery, feel the cool air sweep across his exposed skin, hear the rhythmic beeping and humming around him. He felt alive here in a way that the simulation could never replicate.
He wasn't crazy.
He blinked up at the shadowy figures hunched above him, his eyes still adjusting to reality. Dexterous fingers detached the wires from his suit and the IV from his arm. They checked his vitals and shined a beam of light in his sensitive pupils. But as he peered closer, he realized the digits unfastening the straps around his wrist and shins were shiny.
Shiny and metallic.
His wide eyes followed the metal hands to metal wrists and elbow joints, across torsos of steel alloy. Fearfully, they rose to necks of black cord, arteries of electrical wire. And finally, they fell upon humanoid faces of sculpted aluminum, where glowing green spheres stared back at him, unblinking.
Holy shit.
Eli had been right.
Artificial intelligence—actual fucking robots—had become the puppeteers of his life.
He gawked at them, speechless, as they proceeded to disconnect him from the table and the monitoring equipment, seemingly nonchalant about the entire ordeal. He wasn't sure if their passive nature made the entire experience more frightening or not.
"Welcome, Subject 801. You are now awake," one of them said in a scripted, feminine voice. A voice not unlike the virtual assistant in his phone. The robot didn't move her mouth—she didn't have one. Or a nose. Or eyelids. Instead, the audio emerged from the plated mask of her face.
Eli swallowed, wincing at the stale taste of his mouth, the dryness of his tongue. "Where am I?" he breathed, startled to find his voice so raw and unused.
The robots straightened and exchanged looks, a gesture that didn't sit right with him. A gesture that looked a little too human, even with their luminescent eyes and metal skeletons.
"Where am I?" he repeated. This time his fear and urgency was abundantly clear.
A beat passed. Then they turned to him in unison and said, "You're home."
A cold shudder traveled through him and over his nape.
"Home," he whispered.
The robots lifted their hands to their hearts, and on the back of their fists, Eli could see the red logo there. A logo that had haunted him all his life.
CSAR Tech.
The brand of a company dedicated to computer science, automation, and robotics technology. Otherwise known as his mother's favorite child.
"Home," they confirmed.
Eli closed his eyes, groggy and bewildered and frightened. What the hell is happening? How can this be real?
How could this bizarre situation exist, but not the monotonous day-to-day life of Eli Davidson?
"Elliot," a new voice said from the rear of the room. But this voice was different. It was male and aged and...familiar. "My boy, you can relax. You are safe here."
YOU ARE READING
Obelus (ONC 2020)
Science FictionCOMPLETE. Eli just wants to get through college in one piece, but that goal is cast aside the day he awakens from his simulated reality. Will Subject 801 submit to the system? Or will he fight his dreamscape-- and those desperate to keep him the...
