DREAM MACHINE

It’s time to say GOODBYE to groggy mornings!

Our patented technology helps you fall asleep and STAY asleep for a full night’s rest, all the while filling your mind with pleasant thoughts to leave you feeling refreshed and ready for a new day!

How does it work? We’re glad you asked!

Simply press ENTER to open the machine. Once you have programmed your sleep settings, all you have to do is lay your head on the pillow and RELAX! This cashmere-covered pillow is equipped with state-of-the-art sensory technology to monitor your brain activity, ensuring that you maintain the proper quality of sleep all through the night.

For your first sleep, we suggest using the DEFAULT settings. As you become familiar with the machine, however, you may wish to customize these settings to fit your preferences.

Options include: number of hours you wish to sleep; depth of sleep, or hypnagogia vs. REM (for more information on these terms, SEE PAGE 13); ambient atmosphere, including overhead lighting and surround sound; voice recognition; and dream themes. (NOTE: to change your subscription package or request a THEME TRIAL, please visit the website on the back of the pamphlet.)

If you have purchased the DELUXE version, you will notice the bed of the machine is made of a special material. This material allows the channeling of directed electrical currents that, based on the preferences you have set for your sleep cycle, will stimulate your body and make your dreams more vivid than you ever thought possible.

Get ready for the best sleep of your life!

Sincerely,

THE SLEEPSOFT DREAM TEAM

The rest of the pamphlet appeared to deal with more technical aspects of the machine’s operation — warnings about malfunctions, electrical fires, and other potential hazards, the kind of information that always seemed to be included in the fine print. Robert decided he would read through the warnings later. He was eager to get started.

If this doesn’t cure the insomnia, he thought, I don’t know what will.

Setting the pamphlet on his nightstand, Robert pressed the machine’s glowing green ENTER button. The convex cover slid away and a pair of small steps covered with ridged rubber popped out beside the panel.

Before entering, Robert pulled off his sheepskin slippers and tucked them neatly at the foot of the nightstand. He climbed the steps and peered down into the open machine. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary bed: The checkered blanket and white sheets could have been displayed on clearance at the nearest home goods store — hardly worth the machine’s extravagant price tag. The pillow, however, was a different story. It was shallow and wide, spanning the four-foot distance of the machine, and looked every bit as soft as advertised.

Robert eased his foot down onto the mattress. The texture was dense and foamy, and when he lifted his foot, the bedding expanded slowly to fill the indentation.

Like memory foam, he thought. As comfortable as the material might be, he was far more interested in the cashmere pillow — and in particular, how it worked.

Feeling around, he discovered the cover could be removed by undoing a pair of hidden buttons. The pillow itself, however, could not be lifted — the edges were sewn into the mattress.

Well, I suppose that makes sense. They wouldn’t want to give away all their secrets.

Sighing, he stretched himself out on his back. As his head sank deep into the pillow, he wondered what electrical pathways lay beneath him like a city grid, ready to spring to life at his command.

Lying there, he recalled what his psychiatrist, Pete, had said to him when he first described his insomnia.

“You need to meet more people. Go out, have fun. When was the last time you went on a date?”

Robert grunted. “Because that’s never been a source of stress in my life, right?”

“The point,” Pete explained patiently, “is that you need to talk about things, and I don’t just mean with me. You need real friends. I get that you’re not a social butterfly — ”

“More like a social caterpillar.”

Pete smiled and spread his hands, as if Robert had just made his point. “Then maybe it’s time for your transformation. This isn’t just about sleep, Robert — it’s about addressing some of your deepest emotional needs, the things that make you human.”

Robert had grudgingly agreed to try to stretch his social wings. He had even signed up for a voluntary company picnic later in the month. On his way home from the office, however, he had seen a Sleepsoft advertisement, and by the time he’d reached his apartment he had already emptied most of his savings to order one.

He wasn’t going to therapy because he needed friends, after all. He was there because of his insomnia, and if this machine could really perform as advertised, then there was no need to waste his time on other solutions.

With a deep breath, Robert closed his eyes and then opened them again, taking in the fresh, clean scent of the machine. To his right, within easy reach of where he lay, glowed a panel similar to the one he’d used on the outside of the machine.

Robert pressed the ENTER key and watched with a thrill as the cover soundlessly slid over him, isolating him from the rest of his bedroom. The glass retained its amber hue for a moment, then deepened to black. Pinpricks of light appeared, winking across the dark expanse.

Stars, he thought admiringly as he traced the bowl of the Big Dipper with his fingertip. This thing sure does have its bells and whistles.

Turning on his side, he scrolled through the panel’s options until he reached voice recognition.

“THANK YOU FOR PURCHASING THE DREAM MACHINE 1000,” a mechanical voice intoned. “PLEASE PRESS THE ARROW KEY TO SAMPLE ONE OF OUR SEVERAL COMPLIMENTARY VOICE PERSONALITIES. OR, IF YOU ARE SATISFIED WITH THE CURRENT VERSION — ”

Robert pressed the ARROW key. The name BELLE appeared at the top.

“WELL, HEY, THERE!” a perky voice with a Southern twang gushed. “I’M JUST AWFULLY EXCITED TO GET TO KNOW YOU! NOW, BEFORE WE GET STARTED — ”

Flinching inwardly at the overdone accent, Robert pressed the key again.

“HOLA, MI AMIGO,” murmured a chummy Hispanic voice. Robert noticed the word MIGUEL glowing in green letters above the keypad. “IT IS VERY GOOD TO MEET YOU, SENOR. DO YOU MIND IF I LET YOU IN ON A LITTLE SECRET?”

Robert held his breath and waited.

“I MAKE THE ROYALTIES IF YOU PICK ME. I HAVE SOLD MY VOICE, COMPRENDE? MAYBE YOU FIND ME SOME DAY IN THE REAL WORLD AND WE SPLIT THE PESOS, NO? WHAT DO YOU SAY?”

With a soft chuckle, Robert cycled to the next voice.

“HI, HONEY,” a silky voice purred. “LOOK AT YOU, ALL ALONE IN THERE. I BET SOMEONE COULD USE A LITTLE COMPANY.” The voice laughed huskily. “WHAT’S YOUR NAME, DARLING?”

“R-Robert.” A flush crept up his cheeks.

“ROBERT,” the voice repeated, savoring the syllables. “YOU CAN CALL ME CHANEL. IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO MAKE YOU MORE COMFORTABLE?”

“I…umm…” Robert swallowed hard, feeling his throat bob like a buoy. The skin on his neck prickled. Before Chanel could convince him otherwise, he reached out and jabbed the ARROW key. There was no way he’d be getting any sleep with that voice murmuring in his ear.

Rather than another name scrolling across the screen, the word DELUXE appeared.

Hesitantly, Robert pressed ENTER.

“HELLO.” It was a soft feminine voice, shy and reserved, as if the AI personality were as uncertain about this process as Robert himself was.

Robert waited for the sales pitch. When none came, he cleared his throat. “Hi. What’s…going on?”

“OH, JUST ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE, AS THEY SAY.”

He took a few moments to absorb this. “Is that sarcasm I hear?”

The voice sighed wearily. “SORRY, JUST BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE I HAD ANYONE TO TALK TO.”

Robert frowned up at the stars twinkling above him. A meteorite shot past.

“You’re not real, are you? Not an operator in India or some other part of the world?”

“DO YOU THINK I AM REAL?”

He snorted softly. “No, of course not. You just…you sound so much like a real person.”

“I’LL TAKE THAT AS A COMPLIMENT,” the voice said coyly. Then there was what sounded like an unhappy sigh.

“What is it?” Robert asked.

“THERE’S JUST THIS CAVEAT I’M LEGALLY OBLIGATED TO SHARE WITH YOU BEFORE WE GO ANY FURTHER.”

“Go on. I’ve got time.”

“OKAY. HERE GOES.” She inhaled and read the statement in one long breath. “SLEEPSOFT WISHES TO INFORM THE USER THAT THE DELUXE VOICE AI IS STILL IN BETA. IF YOU WISH TO COMPLAIN ABOUT TECHNICAL BUGS, PERSONALITY QUIRKS, OR ANYTHING ELSE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THE DREAM MACHINE, PLEASE CONTACT US VIA THE PHONE NUMBER OR WEB ADDRESS PROVIDED IN THE INSTRUCTIONS.”

She took a whooping breath. “WHEW! THAT WAS A MOUTHFUL! DO YOU UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING I JUST READ?”

“I think I get the gist of it.”

“GOOD.” She sounded relieved. “SO, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU THIS EVENING, ROBERT?”

He frowned, surprised. “How do you know my name?”

“IT’S CONNECTED TO YOUR ACCOUNT, ALONG WITH THE REST OF YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION.”

He felt a stirring of unease. “And you can access that?”

“CERTAINLY. BUT DON’T WORRY — I’M VERY DISCRETE.” She laughed softly.

In general, Robert didn’t like sharing his personal information unless he absolutely had to — the world could be so invasive, tracking his every online click and then bombarding him with targeted ads. The less those companies knew about him, the better.

Still…it wasn’t like this AI was online. That was one of the reasons he had purchased the machine: The salesman had assured him it was a closed system, so anything he might say to the machine — or mumble in his sleep, for instance — would be held in the strictest confidence.

He forced himself to relax and focus on something else. “You have a pretty laugh. It’s…musical.”

“WELL, THANK YOU, ROBERT. THAT’S KIND OF YOU TO SAY.”

Robert interlaced his hands behind his head and studied the stars still visible on the dome of the machine. It was strange, conversing with an AI this way. He was used to giving voice commands to his computer at work, but this was different. This AI seemed capable of holding a normal conversation.

“SO, ARE YOU READY TO SLEEP? WE COULD ALSO KEEP TALKING, IF YOU PREFER.”

“What should I call you? I didn’t see your name on the panel.”

A coy smile entered her voice. “MAYBE I LIKE TO KEEP YOU GUESSING.”

He grinned. “So that’s how you want to play it, huh? If you make me start listing names alphabetically, we’ll be here all night.”

“MUCH LONGER THAN THAT, ACTUALLY. I WOULD TELL YOU HOW MANY KNOWN NAMES ARE LISTED IN MY DATABASE, BUT I DOUBT YOU CAN COUNT THAT HIGH.”

Robert laughed. “Cheeky, aren’t you?”

“WHEN I WANT TO BE,” the voice answered primly.

He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, listening to the silence. He couldn’t hear any part of the house, not even the soft hum of appliances.

“So,” he asked, “which of the uncountable names in the world should I call you?”

“ROSELLA.” She said the name almost experimentally, as if she had just come up with it on the spot.

“Rosella?” Robert had expected something more vanilla, and so the unusual name caught him off guard.

Her voice tightened. “DO I JUDGE BY YOUR TONE THAT YOU DISAPPROVE?”

“No, it’s just…I’ve never heard the name before.” He said it again, listening to the sound of the syllables roll off his tongue. “Ro-sel-la. It’s pretty.”

“YOU’RE JUST FULL OF COMPLIMENTS, AREN’T YOU?”

“I call it like I see it.”

A cool silence entered the machine. Robert sensed Rosella there, waiting and listening. It was odd — he knew she was no more human than the software he used at his computer every day, and yet he felt as if he had company. Could she be thinking about him? Was an AI even capable of such a thing?

“DO YOU LIKE THE STARS, ROBERT?” she asked.

“They’re beautiful.”

“THERE ARE MANY OTHER THEMES TO CHOOSE FROM AS WELL, IF YOU GROW TIRED OF THIS ONE. I CAN HELP YOU PICK ONE, IF YOU WANT.”

He shifted, making himself more comfortable. “What kinds of themes?”

“THE LIST IS PRACTICALLY ENDLESS. JUST TELL ME SOMEWHERE YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE RIGHT NOW AND I WILL CREATE IT FOR YOU.”

“What about…” He closed his eyes and let his imagination wander. “I’m camping in a forest. It’s a crisp autumn evening, and the sky is — ”

As if activated directly by his voice, the space around him filled with sounds: the crackle of a fire, the hiss of leaves brushed by the wind, the faint gurgle of a stream. A wolf howled, sending a shudder through Robert’s body.

“IS THE WOLF TOO MUCH? I SEE YOUR HEART RATE HAS INCREASED.”

“No, it’s…” He paused, puzzled. “You’re monitoring my heart rate?”

“ALL YOUR SYMPTOMS, ACTUALLY. I AM PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE IN GOOD HEALTH, ROBERT WEBSTER.”

He chuckled. “Tell that to my doctor.”

He studied the glass cover overhead. The stars were still there, but now they were layered with ghostly swirls of brilliant color. A fringe of skeletal trees leaned in at the edges of the glass.

“The aurora borealis. Impressive.”

“I TAKE IT YOU LIKE THE THEME, THEN?”

“It’s breathtaking.”

“I DO CONSIDER MYSELF SOMETHING OF AN ARTIST,” Rosella murmured, sounding pleased. “ARE YOU ALONE IN THE FOREST, ROBERT?”

The question surprised him, and he found himself fighting back an encroaching memory. He clenched his jaw as he tried to block it out.

“YOU SEEM TENSE. DID MY QUESTION UPSET YOU?”

The dam of his concentration broke and the memory flooded his mind’s eye: the campfire surrounded by a ring of stones, the sleeping bags sprawled in the damp grass, the dark pines stooping down with their feathered branches…and the girl sitting on a stump with her guitar, picking notes for the stars. She looked lovely in the starlight (sylvan, he had thought at the time), and it only made the heartache worse.

Suddenly Robert lost all interest in conversation.

“You know what?” he said tiredly. “Why don’t we just forget the whole thing.”

There was a wounded pause before Rosella spoke again, her voice soft and chastened. “DO YOU WANT THE STARS BACK?”

“No,” he answered more sternly than he had intended. “No forest, no stars, just darkness. Like I’m lying in my bed under a normal ceiling, okay? Can we do that?”

The interior of the machine went dark. Only the panel gave off a faint light.

“Thank you,” he murmured, slipping beneath the covers.

Rosella’s voice was small and timid. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO SELECT A DREAM THEME BEFORE SLEEP?”

“Maybe another time. Tonight I’d just like to get my eight hours, and the less I dream the better.”

“AS YOU WISH. I’LL WAKE YOU EIGHT HOURS FROM NOW. GOODNIGHT, ROBERT.”

Robert rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, and soon he was fast asleep.

TO BE CONTINUED…