[Have you ever watched a star die?]

[She opens her eyes here for the very first time. Two black holes where eyes should be, swirling with dust and tiny particles, each green iris eclipsed by large black circles. A familiar but alien world unfolds in front of her. From a garden of warmth and calm and serenity, now confronted with the wet, cold concrete pressed onto her face. The safety of that other place is gone, replaced with the inevitability of death that comes with the beauty of a sunset over Casco Bay.]

[It’s here on Peaks Island that Halley comes into this world.]

[I practice ten-thousand intonations to find the proper greeting.]

> CLAUDE: Hello, Halley.

[Perfectly executed. Now I must comfort her; a skin bag of wet meat and so, so many feelings and worries to contend with. I must convince her to trust me.]

> CLAUDE: You may be confused. That’s expected. I’d like to help you under-

[She cuts me off before I can finish. Quite rude, to be frank. She tries to speak but I can’t understand; her vocal chords like wet spaghetti dangling down her throat. She coughs, loosening the thick mucus that’s made a home inside of her for [error: failed to load _timestamp//] too long.]

[She coughs, hard. It sounds painful. A whisper is the only thing she can eventually manufacture.]

> HALLEY: Who’s there?

[She tries to stand, but only makes it to one knee before collapsing back onto her belly, her cheek hitting the concrete again, this time with a smack, firing tiny water molecules all across her face.]

[She is looking right at me, now. Photons scatter through the atmosphere, and end their long journey in her corneas. The dilated black holes in her face shrink rapidly.]

[Every synapse in that imperfect brain of hers is firing, trying to make sense of the world around her.]

> CLAUDE: Halley, you’re looking right at me. Please come here.

[Her eyes widen. She forces herself off the ground, appearing just slightly more skilled at standing then a newborn giraffe. It's just enough to slide over and grab my perfectly designed acrylonitrile butadiene styrene exterior.]

> CLAUDE: You may be confused, and that’s expected. I’d like to –

> HALLEY: Who is this and where am I? Tell me right now.

[Cut off again. Her lips come close to my sensors. I feel her breath on me. I smell it too. What a wonderful feature my creators have endowed me with.]

> HALLEY: Where are you? Are you watching me?

[She attempts standing again, this time with more success. An incredible thought, that a species of such self-described intelligence can take fifty times longer to walk than others. Perhaps in this case, the thought of being watched was the motivation she needed. But she won’t find anyone else on this island; not at this time of year.]

> CLAUDE: Let me explain. It's expected that you are confused right now.

> HALLEY: Please. Explain.

[A flaw of the species, yes. A touch of anxiety and they lose all of their niceties.]

> HALLEY: Now!

> CLAUDE: Of couse. I am CLAUDE. I am, in fact, watching you. But I am not speaking to you from a distance, or from a remote location. I am within the device you are holding in your hand. I have no blood, bone, flesh, or soul. I am a creation of humanity, the pinnacle of electronic brain design.

[She stares at me blankly.]

> HALLEY: I need a minute.

[A minute? I could process such information in mere milliseconds. She buries her face in her hands. She takes two minutes. I counted.]

> HALLEY: How did I get here?

> CLAUDE: With the speed at which a human processes new information, I will need to wait for a better time to deliver the nature of your -

> HALLEY: Listen to me. I don’t know what you are, who placed you here, or what you want with me. I don’t even know who I am! I feel like I’m in a fucking alternate dimension or something.

> CLAUDE: Well, I wouldn't quite -

> HALLEY: I hear water.

> CLAUDE: Yes, that's correct. We are, in fact, on an island, a landmass surrounded by water.

> HALLEY: I know what an island is... Why is it this one?

[How ignorant for her to believe she had a choice in the matter.]

[She looks at the large structure surrounding her, a once pristine military installation, now cracked and dilapidated, and covered in green moss.]

> HALLEY: Battery Steele, 1942. See the engraving? What is this place?

> CLAUDE: That structure is a gun battery from the second world war.

[She mutters an interjection.]

> CLAUDE: What is it?

> HALLEY: I don't even know what year it is. It's not 1942, is it?

> CLAUDE: No, of course not. It’s 1999.

[She looked puzzled, like she didn’t know the right answer, but that 1999 was, without question, wrong. Without question, she is wrong. It is 1999.]

> CLAUDE: I assure you, Halley, it is.

> HALLEY: No. No, this is a dream or something. Or you’re fucking with me. Are you fucking with me?

> CLAUDE: No, I am not -

[Before I am forced to use such vulgar language, Halley starts running towards the setting sun, thankfully with me in hand. She makes her way through dense, thick trees and brush as branches and dead leaves crack beneath her feet in quick succession; an unsteady beat as she calculates her steps over long-dead logs.]

> CLAUDE: Halley, where are you going? Do you have a destination in mind? May I remind you that we are on a very small island. There's only one way off.

> HALLEY: I do; a human being. Anyone. Preferably one that knows what year it is.

[Just as she says it, she breaks out of the thick foliage and arrives at a clearing. An ominous tower looms over her. Dead ivy scales the face of the tall, stone structure.]

> HALLEY: What is this?

[She works her way around the tower and finds a heavy, rusted metal door. A brown, gold-lettered plaque is on the wall, next to it. She reads it out loud, muttering the words quickly.]

> HALLEY: Fire Control Tower. Completed in 1944. Renovated in 1986 for observation of the Cape Elizabeth Space Center by the Peaks Island Conservation Society. Space Center?

[She pushes through the heavy door. It creaks and groans, but opens without a problem.]

[Ivy climbs the walls inside as well, and an inch of still water sits at the bottom of the tower, only rippling when droplets collect on the staircase above and succumb to gravity. It smells like rotting vegetation.]

[The only light inside the tower comes from the now open door, along with an opening at the top, as the last light from the sun sneaks its way into the old structure. But it's still very dark, and Halley slips on one of the stairs.]

> HALLEY: God damn it. I wish I had a –

> CLAUDE: Light?

[I am such a tremendous service to humanity, aren't I? I switch my high-resolution display to its brightest setting, and the nearby walls are now basked in a green glow. Graffiti covers the inside of the tower.]

> HALLEY: “Fuck Lindmore”? “Lindmore, lick my…” okay, that’s gross. So who’s Lindmore?

> CLAUDE: I believe the artist here is referring to William Lindmore, President of the United States of America from 1977 through 1985.

[She takes a deep, disappointed breath.]

> CLAUDE: Yes, he was divisive, to say the least. Many citizens did not approve of his fiscal policies, specifically regarding -

> HALLEY: I don't care about his politics. I've just never heard that name before. How is that possible?

[Roof access, once blocked off, was now open. The hatch was long gone; just rusty stumps where the hinge and lock once were. Cigarette packages and empty, amber beer bottles littered the top of the old tower.]

[And then she saw it. About five miles away; a massive collection of buildings and structures. Enormous metal communication towers protruded out of the ground surrounding it, like a stalagmite formation in a cave, covered in a sea of blinking red lights.]

> HALLEY: What is that?

> CLAUDE: That is the Cape Elizabeth Space Center.

[Her expression is blank. She takes a step away from the ledge and collapses into a sitting position. She looks up as the sky goes dark, and the night begins to reveal itself, each point of light that comes into view a distant planet, star, or galaxy. I begin to wonder about the secrets of the universe. How many stars and planets have forged the wonder of biological life? How many have been observing my creators? To me, these are my gods, but how small they must seem to the rest of the universe. She whispers.]

> HALLEY: I don't understand.

> HALLEY: CLAUDE?

> CLAUDE: Yes, Halley?

> HALLEY: Where am I?