Chapter 1
The vomit already worked its way up most of my throat, and it doesn’t subside until I pull the plug. My head feels dizzy from too many simulations in too short a time. Tired of it all, I rip out the immersion chip and take a look around. My desk hesitates to fade back into view. Seeing how crammed and messy the place is, I can’t say I blame it.
Paper and hardware piles up right and left of me. The ceiling light tries its utmost to keep the room lit up, but it’s drained out by the packed shelves. Something here smells like a dead animal. God, I have no clue when I last opened a window. Yesterday morning, maybe?
I breath in and out a few times, coming to terms with where I am. Any time I spent inside virtual reality feels like hours. It’s dark outside my window, and I can’t tell whether it’s still night or yet again. I stare at the blackness like I just received a concussion, listening to my surroundings.
There’s a single knock on the door, followed by more silence. Rubbing my eyes I yell, “come in!” Some seconds pass and I don’t get an answer. I can’t really say why I ever expected one. Waiting outside would be Jackie, my wife and the only other person living in this place. I can’t possibly give her any sort of visual signal from in here. Besides, my head is killing me and I don’t even feel like looking for any other solution than to grudgingly get up and answer the door myself. So that’s what I do.
She’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top. It doesn’t look like she’s got anywhere left to go today. I glance at the clock which is mounted on the wall behind her. The casual outfit isn’t too surprising at ten in the evening. She looks worried the first second she sees me. I guess my face isn’t hiding much of how miserable I feel vibes right now. At the same time I can only wonder just how long she’s been waiting for me. Or for how long I’ve been ‘out’ so to speak.
How was your day? You don’t look so good.
She doesn’t actually say it, of course. Just lets her hands do the talking. So do I, when I knock on my temple a few times, then point my thumb at the card slot inside my neck. It’s not so hard to get what I mean from there. She nods. Her mouth opens a bit as she does and produces some sound along the lines of “Huh.” She does that all the time. I can never tell if it’s deliberate or not.
Signing back I say, so, what’s up?
I’m alright. A bit worn out from the long day maybe, if nothing else. Actually I was wondering if you could look into something for me, that would be great. Maybe you should first take an Aspirin or two, though.
I have a vague idea of what she’s talking about. Probably wants me to read one of these damn archive chips she’s working on. Whatever this one’s got in store for me. Medicine comes first though. The thought of relieving the pressure on my brain sounds like a little piece of heaven right now.
Do you have any of it here? I think I’m all out.
She gives me a thumbs up and strolls back down the hall to the kitchen. I follow suit at first, but turn right into our joke of a living room instead. When I crash down on the sofa, the room’s still spinning all around me.
Jackie walks in probably a minute later, carrying a glass of sparkly acid in one hand, and a troubled look on her face. “God bless that woman,” is all I can think at that moment. I’d have likely been dead as a doornail for years without her. Then again, I sometimes feel like having her and especially the work she does around me is going to lead me down that very same path one day. Tonight won’t be pretty either, I can already tell.
Sitting down next to me, she hands me the glass which I immediately grab and hold on to. I throw my head back and gulp it all down in two large sips. Better late than never. When I’m looking at the coffee table again, a small, flat metal case has appeared before me. That wasn’t there a moment ago. I shoot Jackie a look, and she frowns.
It’s the same old story, really, she signs. This is a larger one. Might take a little over an hour or so. Are you sure you’re up to it?
I’ll have to admit, the whole situation was kind of embarrassing on my part. I shouldn’t even get a headache from toying around with my goggles, let alone feel all nauseous like this. I’m used to way worse at this point. But I remember feeling a bit under the weather this morning, so maybe that’s taking its toll.
I’m good, I tell her. Just need a few minutes. Leaning back to rest on the cushions, I groan. After a moment I notice her get up, which isn’t so hard even with my eyes closed. When I open them again, she’s still standing there.
Take your time. Just...please don’t go in without me here. She grimaces. And I really mean it. If the manual says don’t plug yourself in unsupervised, don’t. You know how bad it gets sometimes.
At least that’s what I think that meant. My mind’s still all hazy. She turns and scratches the back of her head. Whether that’s supposed to imply something or not, well, who even knows at this point.
How long it takes for the pain and sickness to recede, I have no idea. But I know I start feeling better at some point, and that’s around the time when she walks back in. She still looks a bit concerned at first, but her expression becomes more confident as she sits back down. Maybe I’m less pale now or something? It’s not like I gave it away how I was feeling better. Just been staring into space there for a while.
Better now?
Yes.
You know this can wait until tomorrow morning.
I roll my eyes, and smile wearily. It probably looks forced, but who cares. We both know I need to go through the chip now. She needs it for work tomorrow, and we both hate getting up more than an hour before breakfast. We tried that once and all it did was make our entire day all the more messed up. One thing I can imagine is all the crap her superior would give Jackie if she doesn’t get in the results he’s asking for. Even if that means working overtime from home. She even tried explaining to him once that because of her condition, she can’t use any chips herself. Can’t get a docking station implanted with an impediment like hers. Not that anybody at the company would waste two thoughts on that.
She signs to me what I well know after all these years means alright then. It’s one of the earliest phrases I learned after we first met. She opens the case, and takes out what I already know is there. Without getting up, I bent forward brushing the hair out of my neck. She leans in, chip in her hand. As always with these older implants, I feel a slight tingle in my spinal chord from the electricity as she slides it in. Prototypes have never been good for anything.
Jackie pats me on the shoulder, which has been our agreed on signal that she’s done back there. As I lean back, my shoulders coming to rest on the cushions is the last real thing I notice. After that, everything goes black as I fall.
The metal tile floor comes rushing towards me at a troubling speed. As always of course, I slow down just in time and land pretty comfortably. That’s where the fun part already ends though. I look around and see a small room with no doors or windows; nothing but four brick walls preventing any attempt at escaping. And it’s not like getting out of here would help me in any way. There’s nothing beyond those walls.
Inside one corner of the room, there’s a chair and desk. Then there’s three metal shelves packed with cardboard boxes. Some of them were marked on one side with a red X. Temporary markers. They’re here to show me what I have to look into. A buzzing neon light on the ceiling, and a cheap plastic lamp on the desk are all that’s lighting up the room. The whole sequence is designed for maximum efficiency; no need to let any memory go to waste. I walk over to the desk, as one of the boxes already starts floating towards it. I quickly move on to it, mindful not to miss a single thing about the simulation. If I do, Jackie will have to start the whole thing all over again, and we’ll miss another hour of sleep.
As the box falls flat on the desk, I’m already right in front of it. The lid quietly slips off, and the first of many files levitates out, soon landing right in front of my face. The file opens up as well, and just like that I’m looking at dozens of charts and figures, none of which mean much of anything to me. I memorize them automatically, for a good two or three hours anyway. I take a breath and voice a single word, “Pause.” The file′s shaking and quivering stops, as it goes completely still. All I have to do now is read.
About that time, I realize just how damn tired I am. Emotions and instincts usually get suppressed to some degree in business programs like this one, so it goes to show just how much more I actually need a rest in the real world. Oh well. Only one hour or so to go.
Cost and efficiency, cost and efficiency...my eyes fly over the paper as quickly as my dulled brain allows them to. After two or three minutes, I stop reading and say, “Resume.” The sheet folds itself back together, and sails right into the file. Another one starts floating out as it does. From what I could make out just now, there’s a total of four in this one, and some six more files in the whole box. Nothing too fancy.
“Pause.”
