First of a newly grown Sally series, the subject Sally One woke up in a dimly lit and sterile underground laboratory room. She reclined in a chair and wore a neural stimulator while being monitored by two scientists in white lab coats.


    “How do you feel?” Director Francis 56 checked the subject''s eyes with a light.


    “Sad. Joyful. Empty. Sorrowful.” Sally One stared straight up at the ceiling. “I was an old woman, but it''s all so vague.”


    “Aha. Very good. You must jot down your experience before your memory fades.” Francis turned to his lab assistant Janet 34. “Janet, the tablet, please.”


    “Oh, yes.” Janet nodded. “Please write down all that you can recall.” She grabbed the tablet from a nearby table.


    Sally One continued speaking, “It''s getting much clearer now. A young lady held my hand. I felt an injection and warmth all over me. That''s right, now I remember. She was my daughter …”


    “Oh? Go on …” Janet turned on the tablet and handed it to the subject.


    “Yes, I remember vividly now. I remember my daughter and my illness. We both agreed to let me die.”


    “Indeed, this is very good.” Francis pulled a stylus out of his chest pocket. “Please write in the biography.” He wrote in the air as he handed it to Sally One. “Try to enter all that you can recall before the memory begins to fade.”


    “Yes, please. You must share such a wonderful world.” Janet enthusiastically pointed to the tablet.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Francis gestured for Janet to follow him. They walked into an observation room.


    “Looks like a success, Janet.” He switched on the room lights. “With the neural stimulator, it''s much more vivid than the other methods we''ve tried. It seems to trigger residual memories that are somehow transferred through our awakening.”


    “Like a past life?”


    “No.” Francis shook his head. “Nothing quite so fantastic as that. It’s something embedded in our DNA, triggered by the neural stimulator that invokes a transcendent dream state. A collective unconsciousness carried through our genetic memories. The subject''s imagination takes over the rest. Yet, the conjured dream simulation is based on our human evolution, inspired by the experiences of our ancient ancestors.”


    “That''s incredible, Director. What can we learn from these simulations?” Janet powered on the room’s monitors.


    “As abstract as this may sound …” Francis''s hands gestured with excitement. “We’ll learn about our purpose in life, who we are, how we got here, and where we are going.”


    “But … She said it felt so real.” Janet sighed.


    “Indeed, it was real in a sense. She lived another life in the blink of an eye.” Francis watched the subject''s biographical entry in real-time. “An entire lifespan of a simulated existence.”


    Janet, too, read the biographical entry on a monitor. “This is so sad.” She wiped her eyes.


    “Why should it be sad?” Francis patted Janet on her shoulder. “It''s a remarkable discovery … After the Great Ruin, we had nothing. If it weren''t for the robots recombining and growing us, we''d never exist. We should be grateful to our human ancestors for their brilliant foresight. It’s not sad … Don''t you agree?”


    “Yes, I''m grateful.” Janet frowned. “But I''m sad as well, for in every dream they have, and every simulation, it''ll end in oblivion … never to truly know life.”


    “Ah, I think I understand you …” Francis thoughtfully paced the room with his hands in his coat pockets. Then, he turned around and raised his right index finger. “Janet, think of it this way, at least in those simulated dreams, they''ll experience the gift of life, and their souls will reawaken in us.” He smiled.


    “Yes.” Janet smiled back. “A lovely thought.”