I woke up in my room, covered by the sheets and lying in bed. My head was heavy and filled with a dark cloud that obscured my memory — I had no idea what happened after logging in on the holodeck, or why I was still wearing the interface apparatus. I gazed at my ceiling, trying to remember - a scenery of a clear blue sky filled with seagulls reflected off the white ceiling paint, and not long after came the product placement. The lack of the usual morning hello upon waking up pulled me out of my stupor, and I glanced over at the clock. I was late. For some reason the alarm hadn’t gone off. I wouldn’t reach my workplace in time. With barely any time to think, I got out of bed and searched the wardrobe for my uniform, storming out to the kitchen as soon as I was done.
- Why didn’t you wake me up, Nazu?
The smell of french toast and coffee fluttered through the air, but my focus was not on getting fed but was instead on finding my vitalt, so that I could go to work as fast as I could. Tracing back through where I had been before losing myself on the other world, I managed to find the vitalt on the couch and stashed it in my pocket as Nazu replied to me.
- The alarm was set like every other day.
- Then how come I only woke up now?
- You turned off the alarm yourself.
- What? - I’m a heavy sleeper but what Nazu said was impossible - And you didn’t find it weird that I never came out of the room?
- You had the “Do Not Disturb” setting on and your vitals were completely normal, Quaid.
Surrendering to my hunger, I made a quick stop by the plate of food. The offering had been laid on a plate and carried the usual fragrance, but the first bite invaded me with a state of wrongfulness. Just as there is something wrong with the toasts, no doubt there was something wrong with the HomeAI. Nazu can’t lie so its sensors obviously went haywire. I quickly spat out the unclean mess that was in my mouth and rerouted myself to the path of my transport.
- When was the last time you had an update Nazu?
- Yesterday at 03:27:53 I received a routine update.
- Yesterday? Then start a full system check-up when I’m gone. If you find something you can’t fix make an appointment with the tech crew to fix that when I’m back.
- OK, Quaid, have a nice day.
A screen with the morning’s news popped out from the kitchen just as I was leaving my apartment. I reached for my vitalt to catch up on what was happening, when I heard a tumultuous cacophony coming from the end of the corridor. A man was trying to argue with a lawbot overarching his apartment doorway, cramping the corridor. A useless task, like expecting the corridor screens to be working. I tried and failed to be discreet, and was called out by my floor neighbor.
- You! You know me! Tell them I didn’t do anything wrong! Please-
A tall man with a police armor suit only slightly smaller than the lawbot he worked with quickly shoved the other man inside of his home. Immediately glancing over to my position, the officer informed me that the resident of the 2042 experienced a health issue, and they came over to check up on him, nothing for me to worry about. A forced smile stuck to his face, and my own social responsibilities left me no choice but to nod in agreement. The path lying before me beckoned, and I took it hurriedly.
Reaching the comfort of my transport, and after giving the destination, I finally got to check up on the news. It would seem the breaking news weren’t that breaking nor were they news. “Something” had happened since yesterday’s evening, and both health and law enforcement officials took quick notice of it and are doing their best to do whatever it takes to help those in need.
- Please don’t panic or worry, and help our authorities and those around you by contacting any of the following departments, and us, if you find anything unusual.
So something like what just happened at my apartment fits the bill? But I soon forgot all about it, distracted by the smart reminders to buy several selected brands of supplements as well as a flashing notice about traffic delays expected in 39 hours. These compulsory sequences of information were transferred to the vitalt as I reached my destination. When the transport’s digital screen was turned off I was greeted by the most unexpected view: most, if not all of my colleagues were standing outside seemingly having a very hush-hush conversation. Next to the currently unmanned improvised speech stand blocking the entrance of the office was someone convening directly with a smaller group of people. A familiar face stood out in the middle of the crowd, and I met her with a wave as we met halfway.
- Did you hear the news?
- I saw what the news feed showed me. Although it wasn’t very clear what that was.
- My goodness, Quaid, do I have to do everything for you?! Let me fill you in.
Mags would always pretend to be doing me a favor, when actually she loves to gossip about whatever she got to overhear. It turned out that several employees hadn’t shown up to work today, and more than half of those may have been taken to a reeducation center. Notified by the law officials, the company promptly disclosed that there were no public ties with any former employees and pledged to help out to guarantee public satisfaction. Mags’s explanation was cut short by the centerpiece of this grouping pointing out she wished to address the audience by now manning the stand. The transmission started, the building’s displays now mirroring what we were seeing in person.
- Are you alright, Quaid? You don’t look so well and your hand is shaking - Mags whispered to me, while the HR professional continued her tirade.
- Yeah. Just having a weird day, and didn’t have any breakfast. - A lie. I wasn’t feeling very well, but why was I shaking? I hid my hands in my trouser’s pockets.
Mags advised me to go home and rest as soon as possible. I thanked her, taking refuge from the company person’s bland report of the situation in this little side discussion of ours. There’s nothing to worry about, there’s nothing happening, everyone gets the day off due to what happened with our ex-colleagues, cooperate with the authorities, have a nice day, remember we are on your side and we’re all a big family. A big applause erupted from those around me, the contradictions of the statements were ignored and the smiles abounded. Did I never notice these things before?
I could feel myself change as time went by, spending the rest of the day in bed trying to remember what resting was and how to do it. I heard some screams coming from the hallway, pleas of forgiveness and promises of doing whatever it takes as long as they weren’t taken away. My curiosity fell flat like my appetite, perhaps as a result of my body aching all over. Not wanting to experience any visual sensations for a while, I let my eyes shutter, and for a while there was nothing outside my newfound oblivion.
Artificial light greeted my sight- how long had it been since I fell asleep? The smell of dinner created a point in time, and the smell of pasta was appetizing, besides. My stomach agreed I should hunt it out, especially since I found it to be closer to me than I expected - right inside my own kitchen. With the help of a fork I transferred a large portion of this magnificently looking spaghetti to the inside of my mouth and just as fast spat it all out. The taste was so utterly terrible it was borderline indescribable.
- Nazu, did you finish the check-up?
- Yes. There wasn’t anything wrong.
- What about that update?
- I rolled back the update just in case, Quaid. I’m currently using last month’s update on a provisional basis. Is there something wrong?
- The food you cooked, it tastes awful.
- Your vital signs are completely normal for a healthy male. However, it is up to you if you wish for a medical check-up. Would you like that, Quaid?
- No. I’m fine Nazu - Why not take the test? Maybe something is wrong with me. No. There’s definitely something wrong, but not that wrong. Not that kind of wrong. - I’m fine.
Did I repeat that for my caretaker’s sake or for my sake? My words followed a line that ever so slightly slumped away from straightforward impromptu. I took my leave to follow nature’s call into the bathroom, no matter the background noise that encircles me, nothing drowns the waves of thoughts flooding through my mind. The what’s and the why’s are left floating around without any answers to catch them. With the deed done I ventured over the sink to wash my hands and peer at the mirror. The human shaped thing that looked at me in the mirror felt alien even though his shape was still the same as the day before- an old me acquiescing to a new me? My body was feeling better, only a slight aching that influenced me into taking a shower to freshen up. I was getting dressed when an unexpected infonote popped up on the bedroom’s mirror: there was someone at the door.
- Who is it, Nazu?
- It’s an inspector, Quaid. I have to open the door.
- What’s an inspector doing here? I didn’t do anything. - The bell rang, a physical confirmation for any human presence residing in the abode. - Screw that, don’t open the door.
- I must open the door, Quaid.
- No, you do what I tell you. - my fists clenched involuntarily, my body feeling lighter and ready to act.
- I’m afraid I can’t do that, Quaid- - Nazu hadn’t yet finished her sentence when the door opened. I wanted to punch it, I wanted to kick it, and I wanted to kill it. I wanted to do all these things but most of all I wanted to be perceived like what the previous me was, especially in front of a lawbot.
- Good evening, Mr. Quaid, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you at this dinner time - the inconspicuous middle aged man in the doorway acquainted himself with his surroundings while using a small monologue to befriend me. He wore an old black leather coat, no visible armor in sight and the only ID I could see was the one on the screen confirming that he was part of the force. - How are you today, Mr. Quaid?
- I’m fine, Inspector Len.
- Please, just Len. Old Len, - he said very slowly. Was it a trait from the past or a trick for the future? Thinking too much about it would betray my character just as much as knowing the answer.
- Very well, Len. I’ve had a hectic day, starting with my company telling all the workers to take the day off because something happened to some of their employees.
- I see… - the inspector took a VR-monocular from the inside of his coat and began fiddling with it. - By now you must know what has been happening, then?
- No, I don’t.
The inspector stopped what he was doing and looked straight at me, perhaps waiting for a lie to peek out from somewhere, but I was telling nothing but the truth. Eventually he must have understood that, and he changed his tone.
- Mr. Quaid, as you can see I’m an old man, and I’d love to get home a little earlier, so I’ll be completely straightforward. I hope you have no objections to that.
- Not at all, Len. Would you like a beverage or-
- No thank you, Mr. Quaid, I want to get to the point, like I said, and your shakes confirm your situation.
The inspector’s conclusion caught me completely off guard. Was I being targeted after that morning, having encountered the other officer? Or maybe Mags talked to someone and told them she saw me shaking? My confusion was interrupted by the mild mannered inspector.
- I need you to pay attention now, Mr. Quaid, and answer my questions. When was the last time you ate or drank?
- Last time? I… I believe it was this morning - his focus divided between me and his mysterious monocular left me wanting for answers - What does it have to do with anything? Why are you here Len?
- If that’s how it’s going to be, I’m fine with that - a faint smile raised his cheeks - your HomeAI health report triggered a flag and we’re here. We’ve noticed your intake of allowed products wasn’t up to standards, even though you’re perfectly fine. A moment, please. - He paused briefly, focusing completely on the digital task he was carrying out. - Thank you. I know you don’t sleepwalk, Mr. Quaid, or it would be registered on your vitalt, but I can tell you that’s what happened yesterday after you used your holodeck. And yes, Mr. Quaid, I also know you don’t remember anything.
-How-
- I checked your personal home recordings. It’s procedure, Mr. Quaid, don’t take it personally.
- What about my rights?! - I wanted to shout, to scream at this impudent man but I had to refrain from doing it - I could understand all this if I were a criminal, but I’m an honest man.
- Everyone’s honest before turning into a criminal. I’ll retrace the steps you forgot, and you’re going to help me after. You logged in around nine pm and logged off at five to midnight, still wearing your suit. You turned on your “do not disturb” settings on the vitalt and moved into your room, where you slept until your alarm went off. You turned off the alarm with a voice command and woke up some time later. After that we both know what happened.
- If you know all that, then what do you need my help for?
- You see, Mr. Quaid, we know you logged in, we know you logged off, and we know where you went when you logged in, but we don’t know what happened to you some time after, and that’s why I’m here. Surely you’ll cooperate with us, understanding the situation.
- Yes, of course. - The trap had been laid, and there was no other option. Even so, I wasn’t entirely displeased with my decision, although my body objected wholeheartedly. A part of me rebelled, but another part of me wanted to know more of the gap that existed in my present memories - What do you need me to do?
The towering lawbot showed me to my couch and produced four long wires from the side of its right arm after I sat down. Despite being made of a composite metal, they moved with a life of their own. These tentacles inched over my head and positioned themselves, one on each side of my head.
- Now, Mr. Quaid, you’ll have to oblige me and put this stamp in your mouth. - The investigator handed me an ant-sized grey object, too small for me to say what it was made of. - And now relax while we wait for it to start showing its effects. It might be stressful for you, so I hope you don’t mind me locking all outside communications.
- Very well. - As the stamp touched my tongue, a metallic taste expanded throughout my mouth, and I smelled some iron like substance for a handful of seconds seconds. Then a blast of cold followed by a natural warming up, like the sun on my face. - Let me give you the password so you can do that.
A genuine smile was drawn on the man’s face. The innocence of my attitude made the old man rejoice, perhaps due to how oblivious I was to the truth of the situation. Like a father teaching his son that the real lesson has yet to come, he spoke softly to me.
- Thank you, Mr. Quaid, but we have our methods. You just relax.
And so he sat by the kitchen, restarting whatever he was doing before as I sat in the adjacent living room. I felt an overwhelming sense of relaxation, despite the absence of sensory stimuli from the now turned off interactive screens and the central sound system that complemented it. My eyes began to close, a set of instructions were given by the fading distant law enforcer, separated by an ever growing blackness that somehow turned into light.
Dazzling lights and sounds were all around me, an abstract surrounding, composed of all different geological and human ages. A group formed of too-many different oneselfs marched toward a gate, a sign hanging on top of it in neon-lights reminding the users what they were getting into. Not that the sign was needed, given that the music blasted by the ancient speakers of a bygone era could be heard everywhere. The configuring AIds ensured everyone getting into the VR-venue would be compliant with regulatory standards, and included ID personalized drinks and fun hats. It was my turn to reconfigure for the party now. I tick the box agreeing to whatever the seemingly infinite user agreement contract states, and I’m informed by the AId that I’ll be allotted a total of five drinks when the bar opens. The AId reminds me that talking about certain topics or getting reported by other users will hinder my sensory experience, and that my social record is permanent. A meaningless, formulaic matter for the me of before, as natural as drinking water. As soon as the configurations were done a wall of animated invitations obscured the only one that I was looking for. My experience was muted while I filled the adver-CAPTCHA so that I could be moved to the room appointed on the desired invitation – a small area to the left of the central rave hub. Light grey smoke filled the area, an attempt to obscure the flat-textured graphics of the virtual room. Old leather couches were the appointed furniture, popping out of the ground whenever someone wished to sit. I was sure they’d smell of cigarettes were I rich enough to have access to smell. A cardboard bipedal bot waved at me, and I waved back, I turned my public idle stance on so that I could whisper with my friend.
Suddenly, my memories fast-forwarded through the personal chitchat, and the rest of my social venture. And then everything stopped. Rewind. It was the end of the party. Patrons in every area had started to disconnect from the experience – it was a weekday, and many had to work in the following day. And so, like in any other party, the public grounds moved every engage hub closer, making sure the venue never felt too empty or too full. My paper robotic partner was exhilarated by the party and couldn’t stop reliving the moment we’d just shared, lauding the retro rave and everyone that made it possible. She was still fired up, echoing the public feed when she suddenly logged off. I checked my friends list, in case she had just been kicked for network lag, but she was indeed offline. I decided to write her a message asking what happened for when she got back online, but I didn’t think it was such a pressing matter that I should send the message directly to her vitalt.
And then it happened, while I was still recording the audio. My surroundings started to change. A slow deconstruction took place, or was it reconstructing something else? Vague figures seemed to appear and immediately morph into something else; the sound that came out of my mouth became slurred, while whatever noise was not coming from me seemed to fade out, change location and fade back in. This redundancy wasn’t like a cycle after all, more like a downward spiral: either a crash or me logging off. There was nothing else on these memories, no matter how much I tried to pry at the feeling of there being something more. Rewind. I’m back at beginning of the distortion. Everything is frozen and the changes are different than before. I could feel now. I felt befuddled by the disappearance of my companion again, and this time I concentrated on the message.
My memories played along, now at a slower pace, the elongation of my dictation overly obvious, but my feelings remained the same. The ever changing fragments contained nothing else but the figments of my imagination, nor had they ever contained or attracted my attention. Their melting seemed to ignore the flow of time, dilating in its own special way in a separate reality. By now the emotions that pushed me to send a message felt like an ever eternal and immutable constant of the experience, very different from the inconstant and inconsequent corruption of the setting. When I finally felt a new feeling, nothing else registered. Joy. Limbo welcomes me, there’s a brief pause. I open my eyes.
- Thank you, Mr. Quaid, what I got should be enough. I hope you can withstand that migraine you just got, because I’ll need you to accompany me to the nearest reeducation center.
Indeed, the pain was tremendous, circumnavigating my head without ever leaving my skull. I could barely spell out my question, much less ask what he meant by enough.
- Why a reeducation center?
- You see, Mr. Quaid, like I said, you triggered the supply intake checker and-
- I wasn’t hungry. - I coughed out, cutting his line of thought.
- For weeks? - The man let out a loud laugh. - You’re a funny man, Mr. Quaid, but a terrible liar. The values tell a very different story, but you can explain that to the Social Ecosystem Prosperity official entrusted to you after I drop you off at the center, I’m sure he’ll love it. Can you walk?
I barely heard his question amid the pain and confusion. I turned to him, the lawbot partially blocking my sight. A weapon was on the table next to a glass of juice that he had probably ordered while I’d had my eyes closed. The man looked at me; a devious smile overtook his face before I even said anything.
- Can’t. Won’t. - My charade was shattered.
- I was afraid you’d say that. As I’m obliged by law, let me remind you that you were recorded saying that you won’t accompany me, and the system gave me the green light for my following action. Goodnight, Mr. Quaid. Sleep him.
There was nothing I could do. It didn’t matter if I wanted to call the police and insist I did nothing wrong. Granted by the same system that transmitted the sentence he gave me, Judge Len had full access to and control over my home. The executioner lawbot next to me touched me arm, and I didn’t feel anything else.
Weeks had gone by at the reeducation center – what started as an almost empty, heavily partitioned warehouse ended up becoming terribly overcrowded with others like me. We all refused to eat any of the awful tasting food and drink that was given to us, which had us going on the drip every so often due to how weak we got. We experienced depression, diseases that had been eradicated ages ago, so the medbot that diagnosed us told me. I no longer had purpose, I no longer belonged. My place in the mechanism of society had ceased to be. Only when I managed to stomach the food they gave us would I be able to feel better. Until then, we were deemed unfit for society. Maybe we caught a weird bug? I had always heard the reeducation centers were squeaky clean, but my roommate had done system maintenance over some, and told me the companies break regulations all the time, so who knows what plagues could be around us.
Another inmate told me this was all part of a huge secret conspiracy, and we’re just pawns in a war between two huge corporations that control the world. One of the corps one-upped the other by hacking every house’s AI system and changing the food list, just so they could smear the competitor’s products and drop their profits to the ground. Eventually things changed, and every other day we finally got to eat something that didn’t taste like trash, and we all felt somewhat better. Good enough to stop caring about being unique. Good enough to understand that being human allows me to be more than a machine, an efficient meatbot, an obligatory consumer. Good enough to get mad at the awful music that played constantly over the never-ending, soft-spoken mantra of social qualities, values and products that we must adhere to. Or is it cling to? I can’t differentiate anymore. I can’t even think like I did anymore, either. Even my nights became different – I slept like a rock and never had a dream or a nightmare. I woke up feeling mentally drained every morning, as if I had been working for hours instead of sleeping. Maybe it had something to do with the sleep machines connected to our bed pods, used to reeducate us while we sleep and monitor our vital signs.
The lights are turned off, informing the inmates that we must adhere to our bed curfew. I lay in bed and close my eyes, ignoring the inside screen and pretending the audio is the precursor of Morpheus’ arrival. An out of place sound followed by a beautiful voice that seems familiar, making me pay such attention that I forget to fall asleep, forget if I’m asleep or awake at all.
- Tonight you’re going to learn how to build your own portable spectrometer, so you can test which supplies have been tampered with, what behavior altering drugs might be in them. This will allow you to avoid them, and teach others to do the same. As with previous contacts, you will forget everything I’ll tell you until the start of phase 2. Believe in the endeavor of your efforts tonight for a freer tomorrow. Liberum crux.