For a few moments after opening my eyes to a new morning, I was in a blissful state of complete unawareness of the sorrows of the waking world. Then I realized what day it was.

Sunday was like the Damokles' sword of the weekdays: a manifestation of a dreadful, foreshadowing feeling about the upcoming week, paired with anxiety and guilt about too much procrastination. It was a miserable day that was supposed to be off but never really felt like it because you had to face the culmination of all the things you had put off throughout the week.

With upcoming deadlines for essays and project reports as well as finals and graduation looming above my head, I sometimes found myself completely paralyzed and unable to so much as start any of the hundreds of things I had put on my to-do list for the day, leading to a vicious cycle of guilt, procrastination, and more guilt over procrastinating. It was like a perversion of that quote from Alice in Wonderland: "I sometimes find myself imagining six impossible things before breakfast." On some days, getting up and going for breakfast turned into two of those impossible things.

But that Sunday, the feeling only reared its ugly head for a brief moment, and then ebbed away again. I realized that I had once again woken up feeling surprisingly well rested and relaxed. With a long drawn sigh, I stretched in my bed before I sat up. Following the nurse's recommendation, I had borrowed Moon's sleeping mask to give it a try. I could finally understand why she was so fond of that thing. Being pulled back into the waking world by its soft, bluish glow was much nicer than being roused by a noisy alarm, or an obnoxious morning show host.

I got up and stretched again. Yesterday's running, simulation training and last but not least our little excursion to the hangar had taken their toll on me and my body felt slightly sore all over - but in a strangely pleasant way. And my mind felt clear, like the air after a rain shower. Overall, I felt great.

Still somewhat stiffly, I walked over to my desk, and found a box of doughnuts on it with a note: 'Thanks for yesterday J'. I felt a pang of guilt at the thought that Moon had apparently gotten up extra early to get us breakfast. She had told me that she would likely have to spend the whole day at the factory, since she was helping with the recall, and I imagined it must have been hard for her to get up without the mask.

It's probably a good idea if I get one on my own, I decided, and switched on my screen and terminal.

It was an older device, as I preferred to go to the Lighthouse to study and do my homework, so I didn't have much use for it other than occasional network searches. It took a few seconds to boot. When the screen came to life it immediately got flooded with news updates about the 'academy incident', as the accident during the Daidala test run had been nicknamed by major news outlets. With an annoyed sigh, I swiped them to the side.

Morpheus M15 sleep mask. I entered the model name of Moon's version in the query field for network searches, and tapped on the first result. Suddenly, my screen turned black, and for a moment, I thought that the site had crashed my terminal. Then, I heard a voice.

"When you close your eyes and go to sleep, what do you see?"

I was halfway through the motion of hitting the power button of my terminal to reset it, when I froze at those words.

What the...?

Aghast I stared at the black screen, my heart suddenly beating very loudly in my chest, until a light appeared at its center. It gradually grew brighter and expanded, and then the blackness disappeared like a curtain being pulled to the side, and a lush garden scenery appeared.

Oh. It's just an advertisement, I finally realized, feeling relieved and very silly. Of course. What else.

My screen now showed a meadow with delicate flowers, softly tilting their heads under the caress of a breeze, surrounded by white marble columns reminiscent of an ancient temple, overgrown with vines. Music began to play. I recognized the song, it was the seventh movement of Camille Saint-Saëns' Carnival of the Animals - one of my favorite Old World songs, because of its dream-like flair.

I tried to get rid of the pop-up window, but the advertisement just continued to play. It seemed that it had to be watched in order to access the site, or perhaps it was just my old terminal acting up again. I sighed in annoyance. Meanwhile, the voiceover continued its narration as the video clip proceeded to show a compilation of beautiful nature imagery.

"At Weaver Corp, our mission is to bring you restful nights so you can be your best during your waking hours. But there are only so many hours in a day, and you cannot be productive while you are fast asleep. But what if you could take control and tap into the limitless potential of your dreams? In that magical world beyond the veil of sleep, anything is possible. Make the most of your time, with the new Weaver Morpheus M17."

The newest model of their sleep masks was presented. It looked exactly the same as the one Moon had, except for the different model name printed on the side, right next to the Logo of the company, a stylized Morpho butterfly.

"Our improved algorithms track your sleep cycle and will send special light cues during your REM sleep. Thereby you can train yourself to trigger lucid dreaming on demand. Take control of your dreams and seize the opportunity to use your sleeping hours for productive tasks, escape to a faraway place you always wanted to see, or be the hero of the story you always wanted to be."

The video continued with a vivid display of potential uses for the Morpheus M17. In one, a man went to sleep, but during his lucid dreaming continued to work on a complicated mathematical equation on a whiteboard. In another one, a woman, exhausted from her work on a robot, went to sleep, and in her dreams had an epiphany on how to fix it. Lastly, it showed numerous people coming together in that garden again, simply enjoying themselves and their peaceful surroundings. Something about that garden seemed strangely familiar, and I wondered if I had seen the advertisement before.

"The new Morpheus M17," the voice emphasized again. "A product of Weaver Corp."

A swarm of blue Morpho butterflies fluttered across the screen before it went black again, and finally I found myself on the actual website. After their pretentious advertisement I was almost compelled not to buy from them, but I could not deny the appeal of their new product.

For a moment, I entertained the idea that they had proposed. The ability to be able to continue all your waking tasks while your body rested - it was a tantalizing thought.

"Warning: prolonged use of the Weaver M17 lucid dreaming function can lead to symptoms of sleep deprivation, hallucinations, restlessness and insomnia. In rare cases, use of the lucid dreaming function can result in temporary amnesia. Consult your doctor before using the lucid dreaming function and always follow the instruction manual," the voice advised me, as the advertisement continued to play in a small corner of the screen.

I heaved a sigh. Of course there was a catch. Without that added warning, the device had sounded like it could work miracles. Now I was left wondering about the poor souls involved in the first tests of this mask, who had probably experienced these complications first hand.

With every prototype technology, there might be unforeseeable side effects, I recalled the words of the nurse from the day before, and for a moment I became acutely aware of the foreign material that had been fused with my own spine.

Just an M15, then, I decided finally, and placed my order.

~ ~ ~

I spent the rest of the morning in the Lighthouse with homework and studying, unusually focused and productive for a Sunday. I skipped lunch, and in the early afternoon, I had finished all that I had to do, and found myself in a weird emotional limbo of a Sunday without that strangely familiar end-of-the-week anxiety.

I had several hours left until my appointed training session with Ray for today, and Moon hadn't returned from the factory yet. So I just went to the park and sat down in the shadow of a nearby tree. With my com set to a classical music playlist again, I just watched the grass as it seemed to dance along to the tunes in the soft, warm wind that carried the fragrance of flowers and freshly cut greens. It was a peculiar time of the year, between spring and summer, when that overbearingly colorful uprising of nature after a month-long winter gave way to a pleasant, more relaxed display of life in all its shapes and forms, just before the heat of summer would descend on it all like a suffocating blanket, enforcing the slower pace of hot days and only marginally cooler nights. To me, summer, not winter, had always seemed like the truly dead season, when at its peak the heat of the sun would scorch any non-irrigated patch of grass and the only flowers that still found it in themselves to bloom were dry, scrubby things. So every year I tried to take in these days in between, with their sights and sounds and scents, to soothe the feeling of dreadful anticipation of the hot, dry summer to come.

The music in my ear stopped for a brief moment, as my com notified me of a new message. I pulled the device from my ear, and the holographic display and keyboard popped up as it rested on the palm of my hand.

Sky, we haven't heard from you in a while. When were you thinking of visiting?

It was my mother. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I'm fine. Thanks for asking, I texted back.

Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?

As usual, she ignored my sarcasm and went straight to the point.

I already have plans tonight. I answered. I didn't even have to lie, I had agreed to meet Ray for another training session after all.

Then come now. You can bring Moon along.

It was not a request, and at this point, I knew that if I continued to argue, I would end up getting in a fight with her.

She's busy with work today, but I'll text her, maybe she'll join later.

Ok, see you in a bit.

I texted Moon to extend the invitation, and waited a few minutes, but she didn't reply. I heaved a deep sigh and leaned back against the tree, procrastinating my leave. Sunday had found a way to make me anxious after all.

My parents and I had a rather strained relationship. My father was a very quiet man, and I often felt like his job as a mechanic in a robo suit factory did not fulfill him enough. He was extremely nice and calm, and I never once heard him complain about anything, which sometimes made me wonder if one day, he would just implode from pent up rage that he might have harbored over the years without anyone noticing.

My mother on the other hand was his polar opposite. She was quick to anger and had a tendency to be overly dramatic, constantly swaying between the only two emotions she seemed to know: anger and offense. She loved to complain about everything, but only on her own terms – if she was ever asked if something was wrong, she would deny it, only to complain later anyway. If she wasn't asked, she would pout and be offended. Communication with that woman was a lose-lose situation either way. The only time she could be encountered in peace was when she was working.

To be fair, though, the real reason for our strange relationship was probably the fact that my mother had given birth to me when she was still very young. So young in fact, that there was little doubt that I was not exactly a planned addition to the family. These days fertility rates were so mind bogglingly low that usually, women had to undergo extra hormone treatments and take special supplements just to have a chance at getting pregnant at all. Yet somehow, my mother had managed to conceive me naturally, and completely by accident.

Or perhaps the true reason was the fact that I had chosen to become a Ker and not a scientist like my mother, or an engineer like my father. After putting up with my insatiable curiosity during my childhood, that got me into trouble more than once, perhaps they thought that at least all that crap that I had filled my head with should be put to use in some kind of knowledge-based career. Yet here I was, just another stupid foot soldier for the scavenging armies of the Keres.

At least they liked Moon. So much in fact that I tended to bring her along to appease my mother, who adored her completely. Since Moon was ex vivo born and didn't have good ties to her foster family, she was usually happy to tag along for family time with my folks. I couldn't even remember the last time I had visited them just by myself.

I checked my com again, but she still hadn't replied. She was probably busy at work. It was still quite early for dinner, but I had already mentioned that I had plans later, so at least I had a good excuse not to spend too much time there. I could only hope Moon would join us soon once I got there. With a heavy sigh, I got up, brushed the grass from my clothes,and mentally prepared myself to walk into the lion's den that was my childhood home.