Cosmo set his tablet down and looked out the window. It wasn't really a window, but merely a projection of what was happening outside. Cosmo and his friend Perseus had tested the windows (by sending Perseus down with a two-way radio and having him do a series of motions on command) and discovered a four second delay in the projections. But Cosmo did not like to think that what he was seeing he had already happened, so he tried to think of the projection walls as windows. It was easier that way.

After all, easier is better, isn't it? Cosmo thought as he stared out of the windows. That's why we travel from place to place through the Network. That's why we have the Bots to make our food and to clean our floors. That's why there's no more wars. No more illness. No more death. And it all started with the Pill. The same Pill that Atlas Orion had taken when he invented the Bots. The same one that he took when he opened up the Network. The same Pill that the people from Earth brought when they discovered Cosmo’s planet. The same Pill that - “Cosmo, are you doing your homework?”

Cosmo popped out of his daze and looked at Mrs. Archer.  “Yes ma’am, I am,” he responded, and then quickly looked down at his desk. But he couldn't help thinking about what a waste of time all of this was. No one needed school. With the Pill, everything worked out for everyone without any hard work. No more effort. No more struggle. Everything handed to everyone, because of one tiny capsule.

Cosmo had been too young the day that the people from Earth brought the Pill to remember the event, but he had heard stories. The people had landed, somehow spoke Cosmo’s language, and told of a great pill that would prolong life. Because Earth had been long since destroyed, they wanted to extend humanity. The people on Cosmo’s planet were the only humans left, and the people from Earth wanted to make sure that humanity did not disappear for good. So they brought the Pill.

It had been years since Cosmo had taken the Pill. It all began one summer when Cosmo began spending his days loitering outside of Pill Factory Plaza to avoid the daily tormenting by other children in his neighborhood. To keep his mind occupied, he began counting how many trucks departed each morning. This was intended to be a leisurely activity, but after a few weeks of counting he noticed a pattern: the number of trucks departing was slowly decreasing. He speculated as to what this could mean, and it quickly dawned on him: fewer trucks meant less of the Pill. He did not know the reason behind the declining numbers, but he did know one thing: if the Pill was in short supply, he needed to learn to live without it. Immediately, he stopped taking it. That had been nearly three years before.    

At first, Cosmo had been afraid. He had studied hard and eaten all of his vegetables. He had worried that something would happen to him without the Pill to save him. But it all changed when school began that fall. The stress of it all had begun to take a toll on him, and one month into the school year he entered his classroom and realized that he had forgotten to study for a maths test. This is it, he had thought. I'm doomed. It's been months since I've taken the Pill, I'm going to fail, I'm going to be human at last.

When Cosmo’s test was returned to him, he was shocked to find that he had made a perfect score, shocked to find that he had succeeded without the Pill. He looked around the room and knew that everyone else had made a perfect score too, but there was no celebrating, no smiles. This was what the Pill was supposed to do. It was nothing new.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of school, Cosmo grabbed his tablet and hurried out the door with the rest of the children. He looked out at the clusters of kids standing around different colored circles until he spotted his. It was a pale green, and only a few steps away from his current position. The circles represented the place where his capsule would arrive so he could take the Network home, along with other kids from his neighborhood. When the capsule appeared, all of the children would climb in and be shipped to an identical circle near their neighborhood instantaneously. Some of the grown-ups were still fascinated by the idea of instant travel, but Cosmo was not. He had never known any different.

Other children’s capsules began to arrive, and it became much quieter. Not one to waste time, Cosmo turned on his tablet and located his science book, where he began to study constellations for his upcoming test.

“Why do you even bother?” he heard another kid ask, and Cosmo looked up at him quickly. “You know the Pill will take care of it for you.” 

Cosmo shrugged, hoping to avoid confrontation, but he couldn’t help but to silently respond in his head. 

Because I know what you don't, he thought. I know that they're running out of materials. Soon there's going to be no more Pill. And where would that leave me?

“Hey, I asked you a question!” said the boy, more forcefully. Cosmo looked up again and studied his face. He had a pale complexion and strikingly white hair. His name was Hercules, and Cosmo knew him only by sight.

Having never been asked this question before, Cosmo tried to think of something to say. Coming up with nothing, he shrugged again.

“What’s your problem?” Hercules asked, and pushed Cosmo backwards. He tried to regain his balance, but he felt himself hit something, or someone, rather.

“Leave him alone,” Perseus said, and pushed Cosmo back onto his feet. Cosmo shot him a look of gratitude and tucked his tablet under his arm so it would not be broken if he was pushed again. Hercules visibly wilted and quickly departed, not near as daring when outnumbered.

“Are you okay?” Perseus asked. Cosmo nodded and brushed his shaggy hair out of his face. People around them were staring. He wished they wouldn’t.

“Ignore him,” Perseus said softly. “Who cares if you study and make good grades?”

It was a feeble attempt at a joke, but Cosmo was grateful for it. He tried to chuckle. Perseus could joke about it, but Cosmo knew that he was right and that the Pill supply numbers were declining. Soon there will be no more Pill, he thought. Humanity is going to die. Then he corrected himself. Humanity would not die. I am humanity, they are human bodies being controlled by a pharmaceutical. They are trying to extend the survival of their species, but really they have created a new one. I am the only human here. 

And he knew that the Pill was in fact gone when he heard his mother’s scream two weeks later, that their daily shipment of the Pill had not arrived.

When he arrived at school, he noticed the other kids just standing around, looking tired and defeated. No more Pill, no more energy. No more perfect scores. And when their daily tests had been passed back, they whimpered at the sight of their low scores. They whimpered and whined for the Pill.

Cosmo tried to hide his paper, his perfect score. He pressed it to the bottom of his backpack, but Perseus noticed. He grinned menacingly with a red gleam in his eyes and yanked the backpack from Cosmo, pulling the paper out before he could even react.

“Look, Cosmo got a perfect score,” he announced, holding Cosmo’s paper high above his head. Everyone turned and looked at Cosmo, a hungry look in their eyes. They could not recall a society where anyone had any success without the Pill. All success came from the pill.

Later, in the schoolyard, they cornered Cosmo against the fence.

“You have the Pill,” they seethed, closing in and pushing him down. “You have it, you greedy little monster, and we want it.”

When Cosmo denied that he had the Pill, they started punching and kicking him, but blood spouted from their own faces instead of Cosmo’s, much to their surprise. Cosmo reached up and felt his own skin. It was untouched.

The other children whimpered and held their wounds as the sky darkened. An explosion went off in the distance, and the other children flickered in front of Cosmo. A lightning bolt struck the ground, and there was a bright flash before everything went dark and the world was enveloped in silence.