The Daily Dime: This

Gabe and I enjoyed this whole short story thing so much, we got a couple of other friends to join in. So, the whole crew now is myself, Gabe, Stephanie, and Todd.

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This awoke with a start in the same salty pool he'd awaken in countless times before. Though he awoke sharply, this was quickly calmed. It was the same sterile white room that was as much light as if it weren't room at all. He laid in the pool for several minutes before the same walking TV set came up to see if he'd woken up yet.

“Are we awake yet?” it asked sweetly, leaning over the pool and craning it's boxed head to the side. This looked at it confused.

“Memory never sleeps,” this answered quizzically. The TV nodded.

“Of course. How careless of me.” Change of subject, “would you care for a shower?”

“This would like a shower. Salt itches.” The TV, which was little more than an illuminated box with tubes and rods that acted as arms and legs stretching out of the back of it, motioned towards the hallway.

This emerged from the shower room, clean, and in his usual white coat and pants. The TV waited patiently, outside, as it had so many times before.

“Is it strange to not have your hair after waking up?” asked the TV

“This,” he said motioning to himself, “has never had hair. He,” motioning to his head, “has, but never this.”

“Ah. Right. Of course. Pardon my asking, but why is it you refer to yourself as 'this' instead of I or me?” This looked at the TV and thought for a second.

“Oh, right. Because this is a dream. The mind is gone, he is gone, and when he returns, he will remember this as a dream.”

“But he is you, er, 'this.'” This thought for a moment.

“No. This is the dream. Just because this dream is physical, it doesn't make this any less a dream.”

“Right...” said the TV.

“Has his consciousness downloaded yet from the old body?” The TV shook his head.

“Not yet. There are some last minute images coming through, however, if it would please this to watch?” this nodded.

“Yes. this would like that.”

The pair began walking down another sterile hallway. This one that stainless gray color common to sinks.

“Forgive me for asking, but what would happen if you went without his consciousness?” this thought for a moment.

“this supposes it would be like any other dream. The longer it was aloud to go on, the weirder it would get. That is to say, right now this existence is solely reaction based on stimuli, or stimuli based on reaction as a dream would be, correct?” The TV shrugged.

“I suppose so, but I think it goes deeper than that.” The pair walked for a minute in silence. Then this broke the silence.

“It might, but this has given it some thought. Dreams are merely reaction to stimuli, or brain creating stimuli as a reaction. Think of a dream. They spiral quickly into chaos, but the only reason this dream spirals slowly is because of the fact that it's attached to a physical body. Most dreams forget their bodies, but not this one.” The TV shook his head.

“This is too much for TV,” he said with a chuckle. this nodded his head and smiled.

“TV, you're a good friend.” The TV placed a metallic hand on his shoulder and gave it an appreciative squeeze.

The pair entered the room where this would view the last few moments of his consciousness before death, the last few moments that were instantaneously stored on every hard drive in every cell of his body before being transmitted back to where ever it was that this was.

this watched on the screen as his memories were being sent back to this massive computer, every inch of it chrome steel, to be transferred back into this mind. this watched as he fought. He was a soldier, and an impressive one it seemed. It looked as though his fighting was equal parts ballet and violence. Then this watched it. The moment the bullet entered his head, tearing synapse, destroying every memory, obliterating thought. Then this felt the momentary lag that followed a soldier's death. The moment when the soldier's body took the necessary measures to avoid apprehension and secure proper transmission. this realized that there was much more to it than that. Viruses, both physical and virtual, created terrifying barriers for any aggressive force. Soon, this would experience true consciousness.

The TV tapped him on the shoulder.

“You should have seen the beginning of the fight. It was incredible,” the TV said with a peculiar amount of enthusiasm only he could generate. this nodded slowly.

“TV,” said this, “This is the part that frightens me most.” The TV cocked his head and arched his back in unison.

“What part's that?” he asked.

“Consciousness.” The TV reached down and embraced his friend trying to comfort him.

“It's alright. You'll be alright. I'm always here for you.”

“I know, but I don't want the dream to end.”

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Gang, let me ask you: what was on the TV? I have an idea, but I want to hear what people see when I don't tell them what they saw.