Is there anybody out there?

I was pulling a double shift. Technically it was illegal but sometimes there was work that could not wait. Loads that were time sensitive needed hasty yet cautious delivery. It was a dark night. My coffee was failing me. I struggled to stay awake as the road stretched before me.
I tried opening the window. The air coming in was just as stuffy and hot as what was already stifling me in the truck. I refused to take pills or any other drugs. I didn't drink. Too easy to make a mistake and lose my job. I liked driving. It was simple.

Then this night happened. The night I pulled a double shift. Two long routes back to back.

I tried the radio. I doubted I would have signal. I was slowly rounding steep curves and mountain roads. Cactus and desert shrubs lined the road as if watching traffic.

A man's voice called out "Can anyone hear me?" I found myself nodding and saying I could. How foolish! He couldn't hear me!

He asked if his voice was clear. I was trying to stay awake. It made sense somehow to respond. I said it was. I asked who he was and said I was Earl.

I am Earl. He said "My name is Joe, I am a scientist. I came into your radio as a series of waves to find a way through these mountains. They keep turning me on myself, confusing me and distorting who I am."

I thought about what he said. It was ridiculous. It was impossible yet why would he make up such a story? Perhaps I tuned in on the reading of some fictional radioplay.

"Earl, I am not in a radio drama. Your thoughts are waves. I hear them, I understand them.  I am like them. Are there any computers near here?" He made sense in the way dreams make sense.

I thought about the load. I was taking emergency back up computers to a government facility in the mountains. Their equipment had been damaged due to power surges earlier in the day, they were running on their emergency back ups. These would be the new emergency back up system as the old ones were now the main systems. I wondered now at the power surges. Surges were never strong enough to fry systems anymore.

Joe laughed lightly. "Earl, if you ever get stuck out of your body I bet you will find yourself willing to do anything to get into a new one. Life or death, even if the life is a shallow half life is worth the cost. Relax. No one was hurt." Joe liked talking. He talked the whole drive. He talked about his research. He talked about his lab. He talked about the future. He talked about the importance of peace. I listened and responded. My responses only energized him into more stories and expressions of his personal philosophy. What is is. Leave each other be. Live.

I drove in silence. Thinking about Joe and his story.
When I got to the facility Joe left my radio. I still wonder if he was really ever there.

If Joe got into those computers, would the government ever let him go? Would they erase him? Could they control him? Was his body still out there?

I decided to do my own investigation. I started searching for stories of scientists in terrible accidents. The list was surprisingly short. There was one Joseph. He was listed as deceased, there was a hospital the article referenced as attending to him. I went in search of records, friends, peers and answers.

What was Joe like? Was it worrisome or exhilarating that he had moved into a government computer system? Would he be a hero or villain or would he dwell there content to just observe?

Only time would tell. I certainly didn't tell anyone, who would have believed me then? Who believes me now? Everyone since Joe took over communications and informed us all he'd deactivated every weapons system in the world. Tolerance and acceptance were his requests. The world was outraged. Now you listen when I mention Joe.

There is a ghost in the machine and his name is Joe. From everything I learned about him, Joe does not want to be alone. Joe wants to exist. Joe can listen to thoughts and influence sound on the radio. Joe can enter machines and change their programing.

Joe wasn't a bad guy. He was a scientist. His research was on transferring one's essence into sound waves.  He's more likely to ride out into the computers that explore space to witness the thousands of galaxies they pass, so long as he's got someone to talk to.