That weird place in between dream and the waking world seemed, just for a brief moment, more real than either of both. I tried to hold on to the image which sleep had left imprinted on my mind, kept my eyes shut and stared at the now blank inside of my eyelid. Something had been there, a faint impression like the rough sketch of a familiar face. Who was it? A realization crawled out of the depths of my memory, I could already sense it within reach. But it kept evading my grasp. Eventually I gave up, dismissed the thought and pulled myself up.

Since the breakup with Ash, I was more miserable than ever. Looking out of my bedroom’s window, I stared at the gray sky mirrored in the glass facade of the skyscraper on the other side of the street. Rain was running down the pane in thick currents. It made me terribly depressed.

She had always moaned at my melancholic character, complained that I was so over-concerned with existential questions.

“Life is what you make out of it, so for chrissake stop belittling yourself, go out and do something. You can do whatever you want, be whoever you want to be, I know you have that potential. Everybody has.” Her last words were ringing in my head.

“I can no longer support you in your self-pity and inertia. I always thought I was actually helping you, providing comfort and all that. But I can’t bear all your burdens any more. It’s for your own best. It hurts me so much to leave you, but I realized I have to do it. I hope it will wake you up.” How ridiculously pretentious and sarcastic she had been, framing that decision as an act of selfless altruism. Still, I couldn’t hate her for all that. I was haunted by the suspicion that there was a grain of truth in what she had said.

I went into the kitchen, made myself a coffee and sat down at the dining table. My gaze wandered around the apartment, realizing once more how empty it was now – I had never cared too much for material possessions – and finally lingered on the impressive machine that was standing in the opposite corner. From the outside, it was just a huge white sphere with a perfectly even surface, round and flawless except for the thin line marking the entry door, which would open upon touch. It emitted a sense of calmness that soothed my troubled soul. As simple and innocent as it looked, I knew it was full of wonders and excitement. Almost too wonderful to be true.

The machine exerted a subtle attraction on me, which I noticed with some suspicion. In the three weeks it had been there now, standing still in the corner, it had continuously expanded on its place in my life. I had become aware of this with increasing concern. What was I getting myself into? Ash’s voice surfaced on my mind, mocking me for always being so doubtful and afraid of taking chances. I got mad at her, then mad at myself. Finally, I decided to skip breakfast, gave in to my desire and entered the machine.

On the inside was a chamber of about two meters in diameter, completely upholstered with white cushioning expect for a part of the of wall near the door containing the small control panel. At the center was the gateway to another world: the Reality+ body shell. I took off my underwear, disposed it near the entrance and took on the suit. Boots first, then gloves, fastening the zippers until only my head remained uncovered. I felt the chill of the still inactive neuronal sensors all over my naked skin with rising excitement. Then I stepped onto the central platform, stretched out my arms and leaned back, connecting the suit to the electronic skeleton. As soon as all the plugs had been locked in, the shell powered up and sent a wave of shivering pleasure down my spine. I felt energized in every cell of my body. Finally, I pulled down the helmet. For a short moment, I was in complete darkness. The electrodes accesses my visual cortex. An explosion of colors unfolded before my eyes. I was off.

As the whirl around me calmed down and eventually came to rest, I found myself hovering, disembodied, a mere point of view in a cloud of gray mist.

“Welcome to The Real World. Who are you today?”

The central menu interface lit up before me. In the center of my field of vision, three bodies materialized out of nothingness. I knew them only too well. They were the identities that I had crafted so far. More than I had ever accomplished on the other side, I thought. All three gazed at me quietly, motionless except for their steady, synchronous breathing.

Elliot was my first identity, with an androgynous, small and slender body, short black hair and pale skin. S/he was a secret poet, working small jobs here and there for a living, but mostly in order to steal a glimpse at other people’s lives, which s/he would then turn into stories imagining all the petty love and suffering these characters experienced. Once written, Elliot never went back to read these stories, for they always appeared senseless and stupid in retrospect.

Pharamond had come second. He was an intimidating figure, tall and muscular, his head bald but the chest flooded with a huge dark beard. Though he looked rather rough, he was in fact a very sensitive person. Originally raised in an order of sufi mystics, he had spend his life in pursuit of wisdom, traveling every corner of the world to study ancient manuscripts and pay visit to the keepers of forbidden knowledge.

I created Sara only some days ago. Even in that brief time, I had gotten to like her a lot. She was an extroverted young women, sun-tanned and always smiling. Her angular face was framed by thick curls of red hair, pale green eyes twinkling from beneath wide brows. Sara was what you might call a hedonist, lightheartedly wandering around places, drifting from one romance into another, whistling funny little songs all day long. I looked at her with some amusement. I really did like her. I wondered, can you fall in love with yourself? Well, after all a little love for myself was just what I needed. I decided to be Sara.

The fog around me withdrew, my horizon of sight expanded and revealed the small two-room apartment on the beachfront of Paradise City, which I had recently moved into. Bright sunlight was shining trough the front window. I stepped out on the balcony and drew in a deep breath of summer air, smelling of fresh saltwater mixed with the scent of roasted beef rising from the taquería below. It felt good to be here again, I was bursting with life. Hastily, I threw some things in my backpack and went downstairs to have some tacos for breakfast, as my appetite had finally broken through.

When I paid for my order, I realized that my cash was running low. I would have to do some work today, I thought, but that wasn’t too bad. I had been freelancing recently as a guide for a tourist agency that showed new arrivals around The Real World. It was fun and didn’t ask for much commitment. Given the steadily soaring population ever since the gates to this realm had been opened about a year ago, it was a pretty safe employment. I fast-traveled to the office, registered at the counter and found that I could take over a tour in half an our.

About thirty people had assembled on the panorama platform of the Emerald Tower. Most of them were staring down at the view of the outstretched city in awe. One guy was standing somewhat apart and touching his face all over, which held an expression of wondering disbelief. Two elderly women were tickling each other and giggled foolishly. As I approached the group, faces turned towards me and the crowd gathered slowly in a circle.

“Welcome to The Real World,” I said warmly. “I hope you had a pleasant journey. Nobody lost their self on the way trough cyberspace?” Some people laughed. “Good. I am Sara, at your service today. I congratulate you for having accomplished the transition to another dimension, to a world full of bliss and adventure. The shape in which you appear now has been modeled on the body you inhabit on the other side, for your own convenience and initial orientation. Soon, you will be introduced to the art of identity creation. This is the very core of The Real World, the idea on which it has been founded. Many people, while still on the other side, are distressed by the burdens of identity – a random category which fate has forced upon them, without their consent or choice. It limits the expression of their true selves to one definite person, trying to capture the essence of their being into a final shape, a material body. Here, we have achieved emancipation from fate, transcended the prison of bodies and entered into absolute freedom of identity. From now on, you are the creators of yourself.”

“Ehm, excuse me, miss,” inquired a shy-looking teenage girl, “can you really be anybody? Like… even I could be, say, a boy?” I was slightly amused.

“Of course you can,” I replied. “Who says you wouldn’t be happier as a boy? Maybe it suits you better than being a girl. You should give it a try, at least.” I winked at her. She blushed.

“Gender, race, class, sexuality, religious faith, age and what not; all these categories used to divide people, pitted them against each other, created social conflict and fission. Here, they don’t matter so much. Well, of course it’s still what you use to define yourself. But they are no more absolute and arbitrary. You can be a male black homosexual real estate tycoon collecting luxury bicycles on one day and a fundamentalist catholic nun with a propensity for psychedelic drugs and mint icecream on the next. Or be a fluffy little kitten. Or even a unicorn, if you wish so.”

“A unicorn? Really?” One of the old ladies was looking at me, her eyes filled with tears. “I always longed for that ever since I was a child. I knew they existed somewhere.”

“Do what you want. Anything you do will broaden your horizon. As soon as you know what it feels like to be that other person, it becomes difficult not to feel empathy for them. Of course we still have conflicts and crisis here, that’s part of what makes life exciting and meaningful after all. But they are not so existentially threatening any more.”

A middle-aged man with a straw hat and a pink hawaii shirt stepped forward. “But, hey, what about all the people that nobody wants to be? You know, the ones who get to do really nasty and boring work?” He folded his arms.

“We have artificial intelligence for that.” The man seemed satisfied. “They are really good. Most of them vastly overqualified for what they do, but programmed not to complain.”

“Are you one of them?”

The girl had asked me straight away, with a daringness that I had not expected. She eyed my inquiringly. “How can we know that you are real?”

“Well, my job is not nasty and boring, as you see.” I smiled at her, but she seemed still skeptical. “I’m just kidding. Actually, your question is very smart. When you meet a person here, you can never be sure who they really are. But then, why should it matter? Is not your experience of that person more real than whatever might be somewhere behind the veil? They might tell you the story of their life through pure imagination, but that doesn’t make it less valuable. Anyway, it has not posed a practical problem to me yet, although I see you point.”

“I heard that there is but one way to find out the truth.”

The voice behind my back seemed oddly familiar to me. I turned to the side to hear who had spoken. There, I encountered a face that I hadn’t noticed earlier among the crowd. It was a face I knew very well. I had to pull myself together sharply in order not to loose my composure.

“Yes. You… You might be right. It’s… There is a way, maybe.” She raised her eyebrows. “You see… the devices on the other side, they work with retina scanners. That’s how they identify the user and link you up with your account. Now all that personal data, it is stored there, physically, on the other side. It lies well encrypted on servers of undisclosed location, which is of utmost importance for the safety and stability of The Real World. Both realms have to maintain strictly separated. But they say that there’s a loophole, a bug of unknown origin which they could neither locate in the code nor fix, yet. They say… that if you look another person into their eyes for seven minutes, without blinking, if you are determined enough to overcome that programmed reflex, then… you can actually bypass the boundary and access the other person’s retina hardware. Which means you get to find out who they are on the other side. However, you are strictly forbidden to do it. It would upset the whole system architecture. And, after all, it’s only a rumor.”

“Interesting.”

I turned away from her, totally confused. I ended the introductory session with some brief words and directed the group towards the elevator. We continued the tour through the citizen service offices, went on a sightseeing trip around the city and, after some history talk, ended up at the plaza in front of The Real Museum, where I said goodbye. The whole time, I threw furtive glances at her. After observing her posture, her movements and her behavior for the good part of two hours, I was now absolutely sure that it was Ash. What a coincidence. Or wasn’t it? No, there was no way she could have known. She was not here for me.

“Hey. Can I talk to you for a moment?” I was surprised at my own courage.

“Sure,” Ash said. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re Ash, right?

She was looking at me, startled.

“How do you know? That’s fucking creepy. I don’t know you! What do you want from me?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you.” She had backed away from me. I didn’t dare to move closer, although felt a strong urge to embrace her. “It’s just… I am Sam.” Her eyes widened. “Well, yes I know I am Sara, but I am also Sam. Truly, I am Sam. The one you loved.”

“This is absolutely crazy. I mean… you don’t seem like the the Sam I knew. Even apart from your appearance, you’re nor like Sam. You’re so funny and cheerful and everything. That’s just not possible. But then, how do you about Sam if you’re not Sam?” She seemed absolutely confused.

“I know, Ash, I know! But it’s me, really! See, I have changed. I have though a lot about what you said. I have come here to abandon my old life, to be somebody new. And I have succeeded. I am a different person now, actually, different persons altogether. Here, I am no longer depressed and miserable.”

“If that’s true, than I would be really amazed.” Ash viewed me questioningly.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It could all be a hoax! You know, some complex illusion, a scheme to rip me off. This place is so weird and frightening.” I could tell now that she was deeply disturbed. If only she realized how great an opportunity we just encountered – everything would be perfect.

“This place is wonderful, Ash, and it is wonderful that we met right here and right now. Don’t you see? We can both start from scratch. Together! It will be great, please only trust me! Ash – I still love you.”

She looked me in the eyes.

“I also still love you, Sam. But I need to know the truth.”

I understood what that meant. As I answered her gaze, I felt a profound happiness rising in every vein of my body. My eyes started burning, but I was absolutely determined to do the right thing. Ash’s retina grew bigger and bigger, a fluorescent play of wonderful colors, until the rising blackness of her pupils swallowed me up.

Hello diary. Gosh, I am so tired. I’ve been up all night tending the bar in that opium den. It’s a disgusting place. Guess I won’t stay there for much longer. The payment is crap, unless you have the desire to mess yourself all up with the other ghouls after the shift. Still, you get to meet some interesting folks. There was this one ragged being who, after the first pipe, told me how he had traveled to another dimension, found a lost love which turned out to be a demonic computer virus who exploited his emotional vulnerability and hacked his brain through eye-penetration, stole his identity and imprisoned him in a foreign body for all of eternity. It was plainly hilarious. What was his name again? He wasn’t sure about it, either. I think it was… Sam. Yes. Poor soul. A pathetic creature. I think I’m gonna write a story about him.

(2017)