Napoleon

She was in the habitat—actually in it, not seated at her workstation on the other side of the glass. She was standing before Napoleon in her white lab coat, which, inexplicably, she unzipped and shirked from her shoulders, allowing it to slide to the marshy floor. She didn’t know how she had gotten there or how time had rewound so that the habitat and its great glass window were still intact … she only knew she was there to take the experiment to the next level. And as Napoleon looked down at her with eyes that had become strangely human, she knew that he knew why she was there as well …

And then she was awake as fast as she’d gone out, and she was standing, slowly, amongst the trees again … wondering why she would dream such a thing. And wondering, too, about the hidden obsessions each and every human being might harbor in the darkest recesses of their subconscious. And then she scanned the trees, realizing, suddenly, that they were swaying—even though there was no wind—and saw Napoleon glaring back at her.