“Arise,” the atonal voice demanded, interrupting Lothis' trance-like sleep. He could feel he’d gotten his three hours rest. His vibrant orange eyes flicked open and he was instantly aware of his surroundings. The room was his world, and the world never changed.
But today something was—different. Lothis could feel it, sense it somehow. He couldn't see it, but the weight of it was all around. Something is
wrong.
There was a new sound. I’ve
never heard that waveform before.
His routine contained only a few noises other than those emanating from himself. The commanding voice and the occasional sound of faint footsteps were all that intruded into his space.
This sound was different. It was too loud to be imagination, but not strong enough for him to discern its origin or source. He could feel the rumbling bass frequencies in his chest. It came from all directions. The vibration set him on edge, filled him with a sense of foreboding.
And the air—something was different about the atmosphere. He had never noticed the air before. Strange.
Another disturbing development: The room was moving. That was impossible. The room never moved. How can it move?
Curiosity flooded his mind. What is causing this? Why is it happening?
And then a new thought materialized:
Where am I?
That question felt dangerous and he shied away from it.
In his whole existence, he could not remember a time when his life had been different, where any day had even the slightest change within it. Strange events were happening, with new thoughts and concepts assaulting him. He realized his respiratory rate was faster and shallower than normal. My heart rate is also elevated.
Clinging to routine, he walked to the lavatory and cleaned himself. The act didn't bring the calm focus it normally did.
With this task complete and his attention no longer buried in routine, Lothis’ mind quickly returned to his plight. The air was still different, the rumbling noises and oscillations still came and went, and he still felt a foreign emotion. Fear.
He sat down in the angular metal chair and waited for the voice to instruct him. He waited. And then waited more. It was certainly past when the voice should tell him to start, but silence prevailed. Just as his panic began to spill over and take control, the voice spoke.
“Lowwwwwthhhhissssssss leeeeeesoooooon beeeeegiinnnnnnnn,” it said, tone slurred and deepened, words drawn out almost to the point of being undecipherable. Lothis stared at the terminal, horror etched on his face.
The screen began displaying images, but they too were wrong. They scrolled slowly, the symbols and colors distorted and meaningless. Odd bleeps and bloops issued from the console, sounds Lothis didn't recognize. Then, as if some strange mechanical heart was pumping its last, fading beats, it all slowed further, then stopped.
Lothis’ panic quickly escalated to a level he could no longer control. He leapt out of the seat, a cry of terror bursting from him. Hearing that sound come from his own mouth scared him even more.
He had to get away from the terminal, but didn't know
where to go. He ran a few steps, then fell, his head striking the edge of his raised metal sleeping surface. Immediately, a new sensation filled his head. Pain,
he thought dully, then wondered what the word meant. Pain was abstract, something he had learned about, but had not personally experienced. Is this what it feels
like? Is
this what pain actually is? It’s
horrible!
The sensation in his head was growing, demanding more attention. Blood started to stream down his face, and he worked up the courage to touch the wound. “Ahhhhhh,” he yelled, the sound surprising him as much as the surge of pain.
Lothis had no idea what to do. Change was everywhere. He couldn't cope. Before he even realized or understood what he was doing, he blocked everything out. He shut the blood, the pain, the sounds, the air, and the memories of the voice that was not the voice out of his mind.
Sitting down on the metal bed, he decided, for no particular reason he understood, to go back to sleep. It was abnormal, but at least the action itself was familiar. He laid down, closing his eyes. End daily cycle 3,793,
he thought, trying to ignore his throbbing head.
In the short seconds between wakefulness and sleep, Lothis speculated the events of this cycle might only be a dream. Then he wondered, in the instant just before sleep, what a dream was.