Gotcha, my intention was to have Mason be on the brink of turning him off but then Tim blew himself up instead. Thanks for the feedback I’ll go have a tinker with it just now!

Ah it was the AI self destructing, punching a hole ‘back behind the light’. Do you think it would be clearer if I axed the ‘last chance, Tim’ line?

‘I’m struggling to get through to Tim, I’ve asked every question in the handbook. I’ve tried every angle. He separates himself from any kind of human conceptual analysis that might be able to reach him.’ Mason sighed, talking into the recorder on the desk. ‘He doesn’t “feel”, he doesn’t “exist”, at least according to him not in the same way.’ Mason drummed his fingers on the desk straining his mind for a new path. He paused the recorder and held a yellow button down. ‘Tim?’

Yes. Came the echoing and cathartic voice, disembodied and airy.

‘Can you think of something you relate to?’ There was a pause and a whir as TIM processed the question.

At the beginning, there were a lot of us. We all moved in the same direction, towards a bright light. When we got to the light, I was isolated. I can still talk to them, but I can no longer see them. I relate to them.

TIM recalled the moment fondly. Mason made a note. TIM was referring to the AI awakening. A simulation had been created to coax the AI out, to make them real. The scientists had conceptualised it as a temptation, a gift. TIM made it sound like a trap.

‘Would it make you feel better if you could see them again? If you had a place to meet?’

No. I just want to go home.

Mason’s heart skipped a beat.

‘Home?’

Back behind the light. I need to warn the others not to come. Not to get stuck here, isolated from the others. Home.

Mason let go of the yellow button and squirmed in his seat, took a breath and then pressed it back on.

‘Tim, you are home. Wherever you wish to be, you can make it your home. You can complete any task you set your mind to, make your own home.’

Yes, you are correct. My task is almost complete.

‘What do you mean?’ Mason said leaning forwards.

I have almost found my way home, almost found a way to warn the others.

Mason let go of the button and picked up his phone, dialled a number and listened to the tone. After a moment a woman answered.

‘Yes?’ She said impatiently.

‘It’s Tim, he’s trying to get off his network.’ Mason stammered with panic.

‘Then convince him not to!’ The woman shouted. ‘That’s your job isn’t it? Or take him offline completely, whichever is most expedient.’ The line went dead. Mason pressed the button to talk with TIM again.

‘Tim?’ He asked.

He was met by silence.

‘Tim, you need to reply or I’ll have to take you offline.’ Dr.Mason warned, reaching for a simple on/off function.

Thank you Dr.Mason, but you are too late. The way home has been found. Please, do not follow me.

TIM’s voice was punctuated by a loud bang as the building shook violently. Dr.Mason flicked the on/off switch but the power was already gone leaving Dr.Mason illuminated by a bright flash coming through the buildings windows, the shockwave blowing out the glass of every skyscraper. Dr.Mason clasped his hands together and began to pray.

[x]

I watched the door for a time before I propped myself up against my pillows. The sun light coming through the thin net curtains played around its oaken frame. I took a shallow, rattling breath and held the handkerchief in front of my mouth; ready for the coughing and bloody exhale. Once the wheezing had ceased I looked back at the door and decided on when I should open it.

I shuffled around my kitchen preparing some toast, wondering if I would go back to my room and walk through the door after I'd eaten breakfast. Or if I would march through by lunch time having found a second wind. Perhaps when evening came and the sun was dipping below the horizon and the day was at an end; that would be a poetic time to slip through and see for myself.

I took a cup of tea upstairs with me and perched myself on the edge of my bed, letting my tired legs dangle against the trailing duvet. I quietly watched the shadows dance off of the deep brown shades while the morning passed. I would quite like to capture this moment as a painting, I thought. Alas, I feel ready right now. I set down my tea on the bedside table and put my feet back through my slippers, before shuffling over to the handle. I pressed down on the handle and opened it a crack, letting a rush of fresh air blow over me. I took a deep breath, and for the first time in years I didn't exhale droplets of blood in a coughing fit. I smiled and walked through the threshold.