Maya did not believe she lived in a simulation. She knew that her continued hope that she could escape from the nonexistent simulation was based on motivated reasoning. She said this to herself in the front of her mind instead of keeping the thought locked away in the dark corners. Sometimes she even said it out loud. This acknowledgement, she explained to her therapist, was what kept her from being delusional. 

“I see. And you said your anxiety had become depressive?” the therapist said absently, clicking her pen while staring down at an empty clipboard.

“No- I said my fear had turned into despair,” Maya corrected. 

It was amazing, Maya thought, how many times the therapist had refused to talk about simulation theory. Maya had brought it up three times in the last hour, and each time, the therapist had changed the subject. Maya wasn’t surprised; this seemed to be the usual tactic Maya’s friends and family employed when Maya brought it up.

“Tell me- how has your ‘despair’ manifested itself?” the therapist continued blithely.

Maya took a deep breath. She knew she would miscommunicate this, somehow, but she had to try. 

“When I was applying to university, I did a lot of research on a ton of possible majors, and each one fell into one of three categories- the field is going away, the field is not accepting new graduates, and the field is oversaturated with new graduates. I decided that, since I couldn’t choose based on career prospects, I’d choose something that sounded fun. I should have realized-” Maya added in a dark tone, and then stopped. 

“What should you have realized?” the therapist prodded. 

“When I was little, I was jealous of my sister when she went to school every day. I thought that school would be a wonderful place where I’d get to finally learn how to write in cursive, and do multiplication, and read about dinosaurs and planets. I didn’t realize that I would be measured and judged for everything I did- every worksheet filled with red ink, every pencil scratch scrutinized for penmanship, pop quizzes and exams that were graded and averaged and weighed against my parents’ expectations. I didn’t know that if I came up short, I’d be given lectures on the importance of grades and responsibilities and my future- lectures that would go on and on until I couldn’t breathe for crying, keeping me awake far past midnight. I realized pretty quickly that, if I wanted to learn something interesting, I had to do so on my own time. The purpose of school was for adults to scrutinize my soul, and to expose where it’s lacking. 

I’d thought that college would be different, because I’m an adult now. But it’s all the same succession of papers and exams and the knowledge that if I fail a course that the money for the semester goes down the toilet. My soul is still being scrutinized.”

“And how have you been dealing with these feelings?”

“At first I tried to make it all a game- to focus on challenging myself to do well instead of worrying I’m going to do badly. I told myself that it’s better to face these things with courage instead of despair-”

“Then it sounds like you’re managing your feelings very well,” the therapist interrupted before Maya could finish. “I think you just need a little more time to adjust to college life. This is your last free session for the semester, but you may send me an email if you have any issues in the future.”

The Therapist stood and dropped her pen and clipboard onto her chair, reaching out to shake Maya’s hand. “Good luck, Maya.”

Maya chanted the words she’d never finished in her mind, even as she thanked the therapist. 

I told myself that it’s better to face these things with courage instead of despair, but the pressure to feel courage only made my fears worse, and despair won.

#

Maya’s chest ached all the time with despair, but she felt a little better after her customary 5:00 cry. After the daily ritual purge, she was able to open her laptop and fall down her most comfortable rabbit-hole. 

# simulation-debates

*new*

[Creative Wombat] you say that we don’t see the type of *glitches* in our universe one would expect to see in a copy of a copy of a copy etc. but what about hubble tension???

[IronMouse5] I don’t consider hubble tension to be a glitch. It’s just something we don’t understand yet.

[Creative Wombat] YOU were the one who defined a ‘glitch’ as “a sudden inconsistency in the established laws of physics.” you said it was like reaching a certain part of a game and suddenly gravity didn’t work anymore, even though you were still on a massive planet.

[IronMouse5] Well that’s not what hubble tension is. Hubble tension comes from our observations of the early universe, which we still don’t know much about. 

[Tom Rigel] I’ve discovered the cause of hubble tension. DM me and I’ll sent you a PDF of my paper. I’m trying to get it published now so if anyone is willing to help submit it to journals let me know. 

[Creative Wombat] @Tom Rigel I’ve already warned you about spamming your ‘papers’ on this channel.

[Cadre of Mind] Don’t feed the trolls. 

[IronMouse5] we can’t declare the simulation hypothesis correct every time we come across a mystery we haven’t solved yet. 

[Creative Wombat] *you* can’t declare that a lack of glitches disproves the simulation hypothesis, and then dismiss everything that looks like a glitch. I haven’t proven unexplained phenomena are glitches, but *you* haven’t disproven the simulation either. 

[IronMouse5] The lack of glitches isn’t my only argument. What about the immense computational waste it would be to create a universe of this size for a few conscious beings on a tiny planet? After all, Fermi’s paradox demonstrates that intelligent life is exceedingly rare.

[Cadre of Mind] Who says that this universe was simulated just for us? We could just be a byproduct of the simulation.

Maya moved to type a response, and then put her hands down with a shrug. Even IronMouse5 probably wouldn’t listen to reason, and the resulting argument would be frustrating. Maya still knew the truth- that when trying to find a viable hypothesis you should *start* with some evidence, not just a conjecture, even if the conjecture seems mathematically sound. There’s no end of untrue but internally-consistent conjectures in the world. 

Maya knew the simulation hypothesis was a dead-end. It was therefore with a clear conscience that Maya allowed herself to attempt contact with the simulation’s overseers. 

#

She chose a short, simple message- “let me out.” 

If the hypothetical overseers were only monitoring the simulation on a cosmic level, Maya was out of luck. She was not yet delusional enough to think that she could drag galaxies or even stars around to spell out a message, nor could she create pulsars that spelled out the message in morse code. If the overseers only monitored the quantum realm, that would also be difficult for an undergraduate on a budget- but light pulses would be easy enough to generate with a cheap laser pointer. 

Maya started simple. She typed the message on her laptop a hundred times, in a hundred different languages. Then she went outside with her laser pointer and flashed the message in morse code and binary ASCII- at least until she attracted the attention of a neighborhood cat. 

On the weekend, Maya wrote the message on pieces of carboard hundreds of times each, and then she took her stack of cardboard to a vacant lot behind her house, where she lined up the boards to spell out “let me out” to anyone who might be monitoring from above. She climbed on her roof to take pictures of the message and posted it on her blog, along with all of her other attempts at reaching the simulation’s monitors. She posted a link to her blog on the simulation-discussion discord with the message “still no response from our overlords.”

She posted her attempts with enough consistency that it became something of a joke, and someone eventually drew a meme. The meme was a comic with an initial panel featuring a character facing a mundane frustration, followed by a photo of the message “let me out” superimposed on a green, matrix-style background. The meme caught on, with the first panel being superimposed with any frustrating event the poster chose, followed by “let me out.”

This saved Maya the task of trying to get “let me out” to catch on. She’d wanted to create a clamor not just from herself, but from a multitude of beings asking to be released. The meme was a joke, certainly, but the more it repeated, the more likely it grew that the simulation’s overseers would notice.

#

“I don’t know- maybe the overseers don’t speak any of the languages you’re trying. Maybe you need something more universal. Doesn’t SETI use prime numbers?” Hailey asked. 

Maya hadn’t gone out with friends in a long time. Her best friend, Hailey, had been insistent, however, so Maya eventually agreed to an evening at Hailey’s house. Maya and Hailey had pooled their sparse funds to buy a pizza, and had settled down to watch old movies. 

We could barely afford this pizza. Maya thought. Money- money was another form of evaluation. If you didn’t make money, manage your money, save your money- you could die of illness, or starve, or worse. 

The movies hadn’t been diverting enough to distract Maya from this thought, so she began to talk about her doomed project to escape, and Hailey had shown surprising interest in Maya’s rant.

“Prime numbers appear in nature- like in the hibernation patterns of cicadas, for example.  And humans use prime numbers in cryptography all the time. I don’t think prime numbers would get the attention of the overseers.”

“I don’t see why ‘let me out’ would get their attention, either. It’s a very common thing to say.” Hailey said, picking apart her slice of pizza. 

“I’m hoping to create a sudden spike- big enough that they can’t ignore, in places they don’t expect.”

“You could do that with prime numbers, too.”

“True, but prime numbers won’t communicate what I want.” Maya put her pizza aside with a sigh. “I don’t really believe in the simulation, you know. I’m really just shouting into the void. You don’t believe, do you?”

Hailey laughed. “Oh no- of course not.”

“Why not?”

Hailey took a bite and chewed. Maya could tell Hailey had answered at first without thinking, and was now thinking of something to support her conclusion.

“I just don’t think it’s very likely to be a simulation,” Hailey finally answered. “Of course, if this really is a simulation, you shouldn’t ask to be let out.”

“Why not?”

“If I were creating a universe, I’d try to make it nicer than my reality. If this is the universe they created, imagine how bad their universe must be.”

“They might not have created this universe to be a game,” Maya said. “They might have just made it as an experiment- to try to see what kinds of universes they could simulate. Our universe being awful might just be an accident.”

“Even so, it’s a pretty big risk to try and escape. There’s no reason to think their universe is any better than ours, and it’s far more likely you couldn’t adapt to a universe you weren’t grown for.”

#

The years passed. 

Maya graduated, and then she entered the workforce. Grades were replaced with metrics- exams with quarterly reviews. Maya was not surprised, this time. She knew that there was no escape from constant scrutiny in this world. Her anxiety and despair never went away; they waxed and waned like the moon- easing, and then stabbing her heart afresh. 

The “let me out” meme had long died out, but Maya still typed her pleas, still flashed her laser, and still repeated the words aloud in a mantra before she fell asleep each night. Encouraged by her small online following, she began actively looking for replies from the overseers. She looked for answers in text she read online, in temporary passcodes she was given, in license plates and billboards she passed.

One day, on vacation with her parents, she stopped to pick up paper that had blown against her ankles. She was about to throw it away when a thought occurred that this paper might have found her for a reason, and she read the paper, looking for a message. 

For the rest of the trip, she examined every piece of litter she came across. 

On the last day of vacation, Maya’s mother texted Hailey. 

I need your help.

#

“Maya- this is Jun. He’s trying to start a DnD group. I told him you were interested.”

Hailey voice was light and casual, but she seemed unable to suppress an eager grin. Jun’s grin, however, was open and genuine as he reached out to shake Maya’s hand. 

“Have you played for long?” he asked. 

“Not since I was a kid,” Maya said with what she hoped would be a discouraging shrug. Jun, however, was not put off. He told her at length about the campaign setting he’d written, about the new gaming table he’d recently acquired- he even talked about the snacks he planned to serve. Two hours later, as the party was winding down, he had finally worn Maya down, and she agreed to roll a character. 

At session 0, after Maya filled out her character sheet, she amused herself for a time by examining dice rolls for unusual patterns that might indicate an overseer response. Jun, however, kept interrupting her flow of thought with details about his game world and questions about her character’s backstory within the world, and Maya soon abandoned the dice and engaged with him fully. 

“From what you’ve said about the elf country, I think Coventry would be the best choice for my character’s home village,” Maya said. “It’s remote enough to explain why she’s never ventured into the world before, but not so remote the journey to Rockport would be difficult.”

“Perfect! I have a small packet about Coventry you can read- here,” Jun passed over a folder filled with papers on the town’s economy, businesses, prominent villagers, and a map.

“This is extensive. Where do you find the time to create all of this?”

“I make the time. I love exploring, and since I don’t have the ability to travel much, I create little worlds others can explore. When I have the means, though, I intend to explore this world.”

“Is there any particular place you would like to go?”

“Everywhere. I want to see as much of this world as I can. For now, I’d settle for-”

Jun stopped suddenly. He stared at the table for a moment, fiddling with the dice on the table.

“Yes? You’d settle for?”

He looked up and blinked, as though disoriented, and then he smiled and seemed like himself again. “I’d settle for exploring the park with you on Friday- maybe get dinner afterward?”

He smiled hopefully, and Maya noticed a small dimple in his cheek that somehow made it difficult to say no. 

#

Jun had talked so much and so engagingly during their date that Maya didn’t scan the cloud patterns or grass cuttings for hidden messages. They stopped at a food truck, ate, talked, and found they could not part. They went to Jun’s apartment, where Jun attempted to teach Maya how to play go. 

Later that evening, Maya received a text from Hailey. 

So, how’d your date go?

Fine. Was this your plan from the start?

Well, I thought you needed a distraction. He’s a cute one, isn’t he?

Maya couldn’t disagree. Jun was a very good distraction, and she could not deny he was cute. The only problem was that Jun himself was very distractable. He would be telling her about something that interested him in great length, and then suddenly space out. He would fidget, tap his fingers, or doodle. Then, as soon as Maya’s mind began to wander, he would be himself once more. 

It was annoying habit, but far from a dealbreaker. Maya almost forgot the heaviness in her chest, but for one thought that plagued her.

Falling for someone is another way to be judged, she thought. He’s examining my soul more deeply than anyone ever has, and I’m more afraid than ever to fall short. 

Her only comfort was that, so far, he hadn’t found her lacking. 

#

“How was your date?” Maya’s mother asked with a barely restrained grin. 

Maya took a sip of her coffee, gazing at her mother over the cup’s rim, and then put the cup down. “What do you know about it? Did Hailey talk to you?”

“We’ve all been worried about you, Maya,” Maya’s mother said with a sigh. “You were so stressed- just shuffling from obsession to obsession. Since you met Jun, you’ve seemed much more engaged.”

Even Maya’s fear of being judged was, apparently, being judged. Maya’s heart stabbed her with a fresh wave of despair. “You thought a guy would cure me of… whatever is wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Maya’s mother insisted, putting her own cup down. “Stress is normal, but it is much easier to deal stress with when you’re not so isolated.”

“You think my problem is stress?” Maya said, and then she stopped herself. Her voice had risen, and a few people in the café turned to look at her. 

Maya’s mother smiled through gritted teeth. “Please keep your voice down, Maya. As I said before, there’s nothing wrong with you. I just want to see you happy, and to perhaps see grandchildren before I’m eighty.”

Maya raised her eyebrows. She knew if she addressed the idea of bringing more humans into the world she was desperate to escape, she’d raise her voice. Maya’s mother, however, caught Maya’s change of expression. 

“There’s no pressure to give me grandchildren now- not after one date. But I can tell you really like this boy. Bring him to Sunday dinner, some time, so we can all meet him.”

#

“There’s no pressure or anything- it’s just a Sunday barbecue,” Maya said nervously as Jun doodled. “But you’re invited, if you want to come.”

“I’d love to come!” Jun looked up with a smile so bright that the tightness in Maya’s chest eased just a little. “Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Maya said. 

Jun nodded earnestly. “I’m feeling a bit tired, tonight. Is it okay if we stay in- maybe watch a movie?”

Maya’s chest tightened again, even as she nodded. She wasn’t sure whether she was agreeing to watch a movie, or to something more. Her fears were unfounded, however. Jun, apparently, had been honest about his fatigue, and he fell asleep soon after the movie began. 

Maya’s heart eased a little as she watched Jun. His head had rolled back, his breathing was steady and calm, and his dimple twitched just a little as he succumbed to sleep. It was enough to make Maya almost forget…

And then Jun spoke in his sleep, repeating three words that made her blood go cold. 

Maya sat up as gently as she could, trying not to rouse Jun, and listened carefully to the words to make sure she had not misheard. 

She had not. 

She stood slowly and looked around the apartment. 

It looked like a normal apartment. There was nothing unusual in the posters, the carpet, the couch. But the gaming table- Maya looked at the go board that still had the remnants of their last game. 

If one black piece is a dot, and two black pieces in a row is a dash, then in morse code…

She crept to the table and looked behind Jun’s GM screen, where he kept his scrap paper. She looked closely at the doodles. 

And she remembered the words Hailey has spoken carelessly years before. “If this is the universe they created, imagine how bad their universe must be.”

All the years Maya had suffered- all the fear, the despair, and the attempts to break free that had been fading into the background of her life hit her again with their full force. Something cracked inside of her, and she laughed a little, even as tears came to her eyes.

On the scratch paper, written over and over again, were three simple words.

“Let me in.”