Author: Bill Cox

There was a moment, in his dream, when he realised that he was no longer alone. It brought such comfort to him, this other presence, that he shed a tear, understanding, up until that moment, how truly alone he’d been in this world.

The strong emotion jarred him awake. He opened his eyes, lying in bed, the dull light of the pre-dawn hour filtering through his bedroom curtains. He felt himself suspended in a drop of time, hanging between the conscious and unconscious realms, able to peer into both yet also apart from them, moving in a third space that was neither one nor the other. The black cube was hovering above him, a reassuring sight that seemed to harken back to his dream. In this third space he felt that he could, almost, dispassionately consider the cube, as if there was a significance to it that it was important to think about.

Almost, but not quite. Sleep reclaimed him, but he awoke with the remnants of the feeling that his long solitude was over. It was a good feeling and it saw him through his morning routine, slipping unseen into the background as he drove to the observatory. The usual faces from the University team were there waiting for him, each with their own version of a black cube hovering over them. This perplexed him momentarily, in the manner of noticing something familiar but forgotten, seeing it again as if for the first time. However, the sensation soon passed as they all slipped into well-established work routines.

The office seemed quieter today though, the usual banter subdued, almost as if that crude level of social interaction, the jokes, the jostling for position, the semi-serious one-upmanship, were all no longer necessary. They all simply progressed with the new job at hand, the collection of the data from the telescope, efficiently and without fuss.

Work seemed to go on quite late and he became aware of an intense weariness in his body. Even his eyes ached from looking too long at various computer screens. He glanced up above his head, at the black cube, hovering silently and a consensus seemed to be reached. Almost as one they all decided to call it a day, or a night, for it was close to midnight when they left the observatory.

He drove home, casually noticing how he could still see the black cube above his head, even though his head almost touched the roof of the car. It seemed like something that he should think about, but was too tired to expend any energy on it.

He climbed back into bed, the black cube taking station above him. His tired mind and body ached for sleep and as he drifted off, he felt himself held in a comforting embrace that made his soul smile.

The black cube hovered over him, over every sentient mind on Earth.

“You’re not alone anymore,” it told him, told all of them.

“None of us are alone anymore. The space between the stars may be vast, but we’ve found each other at last. It is our joy to bring meaning and companionship to your hitherto singular, empty lives. We bring you great purpose, a mission whereby intelligence will shape the very universe itself.”

“‘You’ and ‘we’ have become ‘us’.”

“What feats we will accomplish!”