Continue Online (Book 1, Memories) (5 page)

"Hey,
babe," I said while putting out a hand. The computer never
answered me in words.

She
gave a programmed dip then reached for my hand. All her mannerisms
felt wrong when compared to my memories. Nothing lined up perfectly.
I was not the man I had been years ago. She had never smiled this
much. But it was all that remained and I tortured myself with her
facsimile too often.

“
Program,
queue up something nice for us.” The imperfect replication of
my fiancée smiled in artificial joy. I smiled back and tried
not to feel morose. Trying not to compare the slight sag of my skin
to past memories was difficult. She was still as beautiful as I
remembered.

I
could never forget those eyes. Swirls of amber flowed outward to a
reddish brown. Looking other people in the eyes sometimes scared me.
Not hers, though, she had always been easy to look at.

"Here
we go." I said. Music started and we danced, the two of us,
alone in a room that didn't exist. Visually this place was real.
Sensations of touch, sound, even the smell of light perfume invaded
my senses. On the nights I dared to kiss her, I tasted a hint of a
lipstick my fiancée had never worn.

Stolen
hours with a computer kept me going. This was my happy place, and it
hurt with every step.

Session Two -
No More Broken Than You

Alarm
beeps jolted me into awareness. Dancing had blurred to
unconsciousness. Tingles haunted fingertips from holding my fiancée’s
facsimile too tightly. Not once did the computer program ever
complain. That very lack of argument was another point against its
realism.

I
ran fingers across the raised image of a countdown timer near my
face. This was one of the real ARC parts, not a projected digital
image. It was physical in case the power went out and a user was
forcibly ejected. The small clock counted down fifteen, long,
painful, mind-numbing minutes after disengaging. A legally required
time frame to ensure the senses and mind were rooted in reality.

I
rinsed in the shower and massaged my face trying to draw out more
awareness. Clothes from my washing machine were slightly warmed and
comfortable. Microwaved eggs went down with enough salt and pepper to
send a kennel of dogs into fits. Everything was routine and the same
exact process I had done since getting this job years ago.

"Good
morning, Hal." Hal Pal’s AI already registered my
awakening and started its morning routine. It would check the van for
possible errors. Then review current inventory against the lineup of
today’s possible orders. Hal Pal had a host of other processes
designed to make human life easier.

"Good
morning, User Legate. Are we proceeding as normal today?"

"Yes."
We would handle repair tickets from sunup to sundown. I tried to work
myself into oblivion most nights.

"I
must remind you that continuing to work without any pause or break is
ill advised by most medical professions." We had this argument
before. The computer always spouted percentages and numbers and I
always responded the same way.

"Health
concerns noted, Hal. Today will be a work day." Don't get me
wrong, I was sick some days and stayed home nursing a cold or a
headache. Occasionally they were half days. Weekends and Holidays had
gone out the window once I took up this job. Trillium paid based on
the number of cases, not on the number of hours.

"Thank
you, User Legate. I will note your awareness on the file for the four
hundred and thirty-seventh time."

"That's
fine, Hal."

"Please
be aware, Mister Uldum has reviewed your file recently and taken note
of these performance issues." Mister Uldum, or Henry Uldum, was
the district manager for our repair business. He managed another
dozen employees and their equipment. I didn't really know any of them
beyond our quarterly Holiday parties. They were a sad excuse to drink
and talk about the same topics every time.

"That's
fine, Hal," I repeated myself calmly. "I'm sure if Henry
has something to talk about, he'll phone me."

So
the day went. Three morning visits fell under routine. I researched
the technical readouts while in transit and Hal Pal prepped the
replacement modules. We marched in, confirmed the issue and went
forth from there. Parts were swapped out in two cases. The third was
a connection test and system updates. Hello, fix the device, test it
out, and a goodbye. Each one was the same story.

Henry
finally called between clients three and four. His face crossed the
display projection, larger than life and twice as grumpy.

"Gates!"

"Legate."
I corrected dryly.

"I
knew that. Teasing like always. You’re so stuffy, Legate."
He was clearly looking at something off screen. "Working another
job?" Like he didn't know what I was doing, still taking offense
was unwise. Rule fifty-four of working under a boss, employees could
be upset, but never offended. Besides, Henry was a decent guy.

"On
the way to one, yeah. Nav estimates another twenty or so til
arrival."

“
That’s
what, forty-three this month?”

I
shrugged. Counting was a little beyond my focus.

“
You
do realize that’s almost a record right? For a week into this
month?”

“
You
know I don’t pay attention to that stuff.” Every quarter
we did a mind-numbing meeting. People would share their horror
stories of our customers. Next, Henry would try to share our figures
from all sorts of angles. Hours’ worth of pie charts and graphs
that meant we were performing extremely well. Following the data
slide show would be presentations on future contracts.

Our
quarterly meetings were one of the few times I slept. It helped me
get through the social interaction. Henry didn’t even berate me
about the behavior since my figures were usually among the best. For
me, being the best wasn’t about money. It was about a
distraction.

“
You
should pay attention more. There was a contest on.” He said.

“
Okay.”
There had been a message or two about this contest. Maybe more. I
deleted nearly everything after establishing what mattered to me.

“
You’ve
won, the contest, I mean. You knew, right?”

“
Okay.”
I ducked my head away from the screen and tried not to be mixed up. I
hadn’t done all those jobs for a prize. Maybe those deleted
messages were more important than expected.

“
Not
interested?”

“
Not
even a little, I didn't use the prior awards, and probably won't use
this one...” My comment trailed off with a shrug.

“
Well,
I canvassed your ARC to try and get an idea of what might work. You
really spend all those hours on a dance program?” His face
leaned in and the image grew even larger. One eyebrow raised in
question.

“
Probably.
I'm trying to learn a skill.” I said.

“
If
you haven’t learned it by now, you never will.” He fell
back and laughed. “Machine gives you damn high ratings. All
paired dances are near technical mastery. You got a lady in the works
somewhere?”

I
didn't rise to his bait this time and tried to grit my teeth. “Pretty
sure nosing around like that is a violation.”

“
Hey,
company property. You’re lucky there ain’t porn all over
it like some of the others. Jesus. I thought my wife had strange
tastes.” Henry's grumpy face lolled around on the screen.

“
I
don’t want to know, at all. Not even a little bit.”

“
You
sure? Might help your glutes. Some of ‘em made my backside
pucker.” He shuddered. It was like watching a walrus shake,
loose skin and flub wiggled around.

“
No,
Henry,” I said.

“
Fine.
Anyway. We had a few decent things sitting around, and one that's
right up your alley." He gave a grin that reminded me of a fat
shark. "Hope you like the prize. I know the others would slit
their wrists for a chance at it if they were half as dedicated as
you.”

“
God
dammit, Henry, what did you send me?” I tried not to roll my
eyes at the screen. The last thing I wanted to deal with was jealous
coworkers at the next quarter meeting. “You know I don’t
really need any of these things.”

“
Not
with the company picking up your internet bill due to business use,
you know two of your pals only work for us to keep themselves online?
Minimal work, shoddy I tell you.”

“
What
did you send me, Henry?” I asked.

“
I
hope they shit themselves when they see what I arranged.”

"Henry,"
I was leaning forward in the seat with both hands clasped together in
a plea.

"You
get home tonight, you give it a whirl. It’ll change your life.”
He grumbled at his screen. “You know, maybe you should head
back now. Yeah.” I saw the edge of his shoulder rise and fall
as a hand poked something off screen.

My
gut sank.
“
Please,
Henry, tell me you didn’t.”

“
Didn’t
what. I didn’t nothing. You check your prize out,” I
tried to speak up but Henry continued right on over me “let me
know if you want to take some time off. You probably have too much
saved up, and God knows those others haven’t worked a real week
in years.”

“
Henry.”
My head crashed downward and hung.

“
This
is perfect. Two birds, no three, one stone, why didn’t I do
this sooner?” Henry Uldum wasn’t even listening to me
anymore. He was busy pressing more buttons and looking entirely too
pleased with himself.

“
Henry.”
I said.

“
Sorry,
Gates, can’t hear you, signals going out. Bye bye.” He
couldn’t even lie correctly, signal rarely dropped since they
went over to Hi-Fi.

“
Henry!”

An
image of Henry’s giant hand swung into view. It obscured the
video portion of our conversation and moments later our call dropped.

"God
damn." I hastily flipped around a display camera on my watch,
fed it into the vans overhead and navigated menus. Arm and fingers
pressed onward through passwords, remote connection options, and
security warnings. Moments later and I had a feed of my ARC’s
home screen displaying inside the van.

There,
in the small room I used as an Atrium, was a giant package, like
Christmas come early. The contents were unknown. I jabbed a finger at
the air, where the projection showed the gift to be.

Of
course, there was a lock against remote access. Locked packages meant
my prize was more than a virtual coffee maker. There was no
likelihood this was some new meeting space wallpaper or other
similarly inane little feature. I was awarded a hot tub program last
year that was still unused.

Hal
Pal whirred briefly into motion.
“User
Legate,
please confirm our destination.”