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the personifid invasionby R.E. BartlettSample chapter |
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PrologueThe life ebbed from
her body and she found herself drifting. For an instant, she
was touched by the warmth and heard it calling to her. But that passed and
she was wrenched from the warmth by an all-pervading chill. She twisted
and turned to evade the coldness, but it did no good. Sharp stabbing
needles pierced her being, freezing fingers that trapped her and held her
down. She tried to scream, but her voice was silent. Unable to see, she
was thrust into a dark space and felt herself slowly unfurling, a
heaviness coming over her limbs. Her eyes opened and she was blinded by
white light. “Transference
complete,” said a voice, sharp and new to her ears. “Please remain as
still as possible while ascertaining security of placement.” She had no trouble
obeying—she could not move. The heaviness clung to her, the coldness
smothered her. Breath, where was her breath? She did not feel alive, could
not be alive. The blur of white
surrounding her melded into a distinct shape and a tinge of color over at
her left. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. Lines of cloth and
flesh became clear. It was herself, she knew it was, lying there against
the snow. At first, she
vaguely wondered if she was looking into a mirror. But the angle was all
wrong. The eyes in the mirror did not look back at her, but stared
vacantly upward. She was riveted by the sight, but felt no emotion, just a
peculiar awareness of distance. So this was death.
But where was she?
And what held her down so that she could not move? She shivered
convulsively. “Placement secured,”
came the voice again, a pleasant feminine voice with no breath behind it.
“You are now free to move.” She began to realize
where she was. She was not out in the snow. She was inside, encompassed by
a curved white dome. And her body lay on a white padded shelf beside
her. “Please raise your
right hand,” the fem voice said. She did. Slowly,
shakily. The body on the shelf did not mirror her movement. “Please stand
up.” She tried, but could
not at first. Why had she not felt that she was already sitting? She
looked down at her seat. Slightly reclined, thin steel spokes on both
sides held her in a spider-like grasp. They retracted at the sound of the
fem voice telling her to stand. She eased her legs over the side of the
seat, slim legs clothed in white trousers. “Please state your
name.” She did, the words
forming awkwardly on her lips. The cool numbness in her mouth was not
warmed by her speech. She looked again at her body lying there on the
padded shelf, the eyes inalterably fixed. A terrible sense of loss filled
her. This was not right. She should not be here. A hissing sound drew her
attention. She turned and saw a yellow line burning into the white
curved wall. The line angled smoothly
around and connected with itself, becoming a complete rectangle. “Please exit this
chamber.” The rectangle lifted
away and light flooded in. She raised her hands to shield her eyes. She
had thought it bright inside the chamber, but this was new, was alive.
When she lowered her hands, a silhouette stood before her. She squinted,
trying again to focus. “You’re fine,” a man
said. This was not like the
other voice. This one had breath behind it. She could see him only faintly
as her eyes adjusted to the light of the laboratory. He reached for her
hand. “You will forget this, don’t worry. Choosing not to record any
memory of this was a good decision. When we get you out of the lab and
into Recovery you won’t remember being in here. Your new brain will begin
recording memory soon.” She thought she saw him smiling at her. “And now
you have a brand new body.” “What about—?” she
began to say, as he led her from the chamber. “That’s not you,” he
said. “Just think of it as your old shell. You’ve traded up to something
better.” She could not think
of it as that. The emotion was beginning to spread throughout her
consciousness. She had lost herself. “We will dispose of
it as you requested,” he said. “There’s no need to see it again.” “It’s mine,” she
said, and fumbled as she tried to remove her hand from his and turn back
to the chamber opening. “It’s me.” “No,” he said, taking
a firmer grip of her hand and drawing her away. She did not have the
strength to resist. She walked with him, her legs moving stiffly as though
she waded through water. Shapes around her began to take on a new
definition. Color bled and washed over each particle. “Where are we
going?” “To Recovery,” he
said. “You’ll be well looked after there. You’ll remember none of
this.” *
*
* Sometime later she
came to. She was seated comfortably, a blanket over her knees, soft music
playing. It was with some shock she found she was not breathing. Words floated through
her mind in disjointed phrases. She tried to hear them, tried to make
sense of the babbling incoherence. Mine now. A chill inside her
shifted and writhed. Something apart from her. Lost. Manic laughter
pressed around the edge of her consciousness, but it did not seem to
belong to her. Your choice. Her brain felt
cluttered, struggling as though learning a new language. Most of the words
flitted by without sense. Mine. Chapter 1
Sevig
Empire Receptions
Light filtered
through the windowed dome ceiling, playing over the dozens of citizens in
the hall below. The impression of blue sky was just that. In reality, this
sector of Receptions was down on the fourth floor of the Sevig Empire
building, the massive skyscraper that was a production hub of Earth’s
personifids. Sliding strips
carried some citizens across the dark marble floor to advertising displays
while others milled around under their own foot power. A gleaming black
desk extended in a wide arc across the hall, giving a sense of stability
in the bustling atmosphere. Fifteen people, a mix of real and artificial,
sat behind it. The light was particularly focused onto them, turning their
ice-blue uniforms into a silken brilliance. Aphra knew her
neatly-coiffed blond hair shone in this light and her grey-blue eyes
seemed paler than their actual color. She forced a smile at the client who
stood opposite her. He had appeared too quickly—just when she was about to
request her work computer for something to ease the tension headache
behind her eyes. “We do have a space
free,” she said, echoing her computer’s voice in her ear. “If you’re
ready, we can take you now.” The client’s
close-set green eyes brightened with excitement, and he shook his fist in
the air—a gawky move that emphasized his skinny body. Although he faced
Aphra his gaze was concentrated on the space in front of her. “Sugar, I’m
doing it! I really am!” He looked at Aphra. “How long will it take?” “The actual
transference process is very quick,” she said without having to think
about it, “but Recovery will keep you for at least an hour.” “I’ll be out of here
in an hour,” he said, his gaze shifting again. Aphra knew he was
talking to “Sugar” on a hovering com-screen that he had not the courtesy
to make visible to others. She snatched a glance
at her own display screen—a circular sliver of luminosity angled against
her area of the black desk—while maintaining the smile that felt as set as
an android’s. The display was unhelpful—the tiny clock counting down her
work shift was not nearly as far on as she would have liked. She took a
deep breath, steadied the imperceptible trembling in her hands, and
touched the sensor pad requesting an attendant. “You won’t recognize
me, Sugar. Yeah. I’ll wear a green rose or something. See you there!” The
client grinned at Aphra. “I’m ready. Let’s do it!” Aphra directed his
gaze to a side door across the hall. A man in a white coat emerged from it
and walked briskly towards them. “If you will just follow your attendant,”
she said, “he will take you from here and guide you through the
transference. Congratulations on choosing a new life.” She had barely got
the words out before the client turned and headed over to the attendant.
Aphra’s smile disappeared and her shoulders sagged. “George, I need—” “One moment,” said
the soft voice of her work computer. “You have an incoming virtual
link-in.” Aphra sighed. The
smile resumed its position. “Welcome to Sevig Empire,” she said to the
image of the fem who appeared in front of her. “How may I help you
today?” A nervous,
self-conscious expression flickered across the fem’s smooth face, a hint
of pink suffusing her high cheekbones. “Hi, I’m wanting an information
pack, please.” Aphra’s eyebrows shot
up. “Information?” The fem smiled
sheepishly. “I know, I know. By now you’d think I should have heard
everything about becoming a personifid. It’s just… Well…” “It’s perfectly all
right,” Aphra said. “We still get the occasional request for information.
If you feel you need more time to confirm your decision, we at Sevig
Empire support you. We can provide as much information as you need to be
sure in your decision to choose a better life.” The fem looked a
little closer at Aphra. “You…you’re not one, are you?” The smile did not
falter, but her voice came out brighter than she intended. “No, not yet.”
She glanced down at her screen and touched her way through various menus.
Information packs… Where was that section? She backed out of the security
menu and into another. The screen blurred as the throb behind her eyes
worsened. Weariness began to settle in a heavy cloak over her body. Hold on, she
told herself. Not now. “What kind of
information would you like?” Aphra’s question cued George to search more
quickly than she was able to. His results came rapidly to her ear. “We
have several packs,” Aphra said to the fem. “There’s a general overview of
the transference process itself; a guide to tailoring your own appearance;
a guarantee for length of life; comparison charts for the different
personifid models available.” She stopped for breath, her finger leaning
on the pause strip to tell George to wait until she was ready to continue
reeling off his instructions. The fem looked
apologetic and awkward. “I guess I was thinking more along the lines of
religious implications. I…just… It’s confusing, really… You hear so many
different things about that.” Aphra’s smile
faltered. She tucked an imagined stray wisp of hair behind her ear and
made a conscious effort to focus. Her screen swiftly changed, responding
to the fem’s concerns. “We have the relevant
information for you here,” Aphra said. “I’m sure you’ll find there’s
nothing to worry about. All major religions support your spiritual
transition into a personifid body.” George’s words again.
They seemed to work. The fem’s features relaxed into a smile. “Thank you,” she
said. Her acceptance was
immediately recognized by George. He transferred the information pack and
the fem linked out. Aphra bowed her head,
her shoulders trembling. Another glance at the clock. There was too much
time. She could not do it, could not last out the work shift. “Home,” she
whispered. “Home, now.” “Terminating virtual
link,” said the clear fem voice of her household computer. The bright activity
of Sevig Empire Receptions faded into the shadowy quiet of Aphra’s
apartment. The living room
window was dimmed, dulling the neon lights of the city skyscrapers to a
pleasant haze. Shadows shifted behind the ornaments on the living room
walls as the evening traffic flew past the window. Peppi, Aphra’s little
fluffy ginger dog, was busily mangling a plastic toy in the middle of the
floor. Shredded pieces scattered in yellow and blue blobs on the grey
carpeting, only to evaporate as soon as the household computer detected
them. Aphra exhaled with
relief and leaned back into the couch cushions. She was sitting
cross-legged in her pyjamas, her hair in loose waves down around her
shoulders. “You have a message
from Sevig Empire,” said the household computer. Aphra groaned and lay
down. It was all right. It was expected. Get it over with. She brushed her
hair out of her eyes and looked up. “Go ahead.” A hovering screen
appeared over her, casting a pool of warm light down onto the couch. The
artificial representation of a gold-haired fem smiled at Aphra, her wide
lips strikingly orange. “Hello, Aphra Vessey. We at
Sevig Empire expect more from our employees than you are currently
offering. We do not like virtual link-ins to our place of work in
She shook her head.
“No. I c-can’t. I need a break.” The fem hovered
silently for a moment, her smile fixed. Then she resumed her cheerful
chatter. “Aphra, you are under investigation. You have not completed your
work shifts satisfactorily as of late.” She gulped for
breath, willing herself to keep calm. “No, you don’t understand. I’m
trying. It’s just that—” “May I remind you that Sevig
Empire, The smiling face
phased out from the hovering screen. It was replaced by fleeting scenes of
a fem who looked remarkably like Aphra, crying on a couch that looked
remarkably like her own, before striding purposefully through a busy city
walkway. Music played beneath the soothing voice-over. “Life Enhancers
bring balance and control to your emotions. Why not—” “Turn it off!” Aphra
cried and buried her face. The hovering screen
and its personalized advertisement vanished, extinguishing the light that
had shone over her. She closed her eyes and hugged herself hard as misery
choked up through her chest. Peppi jumped up onto the couch, whining and
snuffling as she nudged Aphra’s elbow. Aphra took Peppi in her arms as
racking sobs began to shake her whole frame. It seemed no more
than an instant before the household computer spoke again. “Incoming call
from Antha.” Aphra sucked in a
breath and tried to steady herself. “G-go ahead.” The hovering screen
reappeared, her brother’s face inside it. His usual lazy grin was missing.
His stubbly face appeared tired and his long wavy light brown hair was
swept back from his face. Aphra could not see much of his surroundings,
but a glimpse of the black headrest behind him told her he was in one of
his sky cars. “Hey, look at you,”
he said in his slow drawl. “You knew I was about to call, is that it? The
emotion got so much that it gushed out all over the place?” She wiped the tears
from her face and managed a feeble smile. “You’re so right.” “I know I am. I
always am. Emotions, you gotta love them.” She frowned. “No, I
don’t. What do you want?” He grinned at her.
“Nice. No, hi big brother, how are you? No, did you kick the butt of that
bounty you’ve been tracking? Did he puke up his innards all over the
interior of your favorite sky car?” His grey-blue eyes sparkled with
amusement. “Why, yes, thanks for asking.” “You got him?” “Sure I did. I always
do. Now I can buy you that pony you always wanted.” She giggled. The
emotion set off another wave of tears. She turned her head, pulling Peppi
closer to herself. The screen moved neatly, enabling her to continue
looking straight at Antha. He leaned in, a
pretense look of concern on his face. “Easy now,” he said. “Steady. Are
you ready now? I’ve got some news.” She sniffed and
blinked, her fingers deep into Peppi’s fur as the little dog licked the
tears from her cheek. “You’ve got another bounty to chase after and this
one will pay for my new apartment?” “What, you’re moving
from the shoe-box?” His face grew serious. “No, that’s not it. I’ve found
her.” At first she thought
he was talking about another bounty, but the look in his eye told her
which her
he meant. She sat up a little. “That’s great.” She wondered at the
seriousness of his expression. “But…?” He nodded. “Yeah,
it’s not all good news. She’s in San Edhem.” “So?” He groaned. “I should have
known you’d be like that. The city of She shrugged and sat
up all the way. The screen adjusted its position accordingly. “I’ve never
been there.” “And that’s the way
it’s going to stay. The place is swarming with interterrestrials. You’re
not going to set foot in the place if I have anything to do with it.” She grinned at him.
“I’m beginning to think you’re taking this newfound big brotherly
protectiveness too far.” His eyes softened as
he looked at her. She felt her emotions quiet under his gaze. Nobody had
looked at her like that for a long time.“Well,” he said with a shrug, “you
need taking care of. You’re an idiot.” Her mouth dropped
open and she threw a pillow through the hovering screen. “See? I told you,” he
said. “Now, listen. This is really not good, Aphra. We’ve finally found
some trace of Ashley and all fingers point to San Edhem. Her imprint is
definitely registered there.” “Well, that’s great!
Have you called her?” “I tried, but there
was no access available. Then I tried leaving a message, but San Edhem’s
city communications wouldn’t even allow that. It’s nuts if you ask me.
What’s the use of having a stupid imprint if I can’t even contact her
through it?” Aphra frowned at
that. It did not make much sense to her, either. An identity imprint
should be connected into the resident city’s computers, enabling the
bearer of the imprint to be contacted. Whatever a person’s security
preferences might be, a caller ought to at least be able to leave a
message requesting contact. She looked at Antha.
“What are we going to do? I can get time off work to come with you to San
Edhem if you’re planning to go there. I want to be there when we first
make contact with her.” Maybe the Sevig regulators would not like her
taking more time off, but this was important. Antha rolled his
eyes. “Interterrestrials, Aphra! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” She shook her head.
“I’ve never met one before so I don’t know what they’re like.” “Surely you’ve heard
of them?” “Of course, but so
many conflicting stories I don’t know which to believe.” “Well, I’m telling
you they’re dangerous and I don’t want you going near them. If anyone has
to go into San Edhem and find Ashley, it’s me, not you. You’re
unprotected.” It was her turn to
groan. “Here we go again, you and your Follower drivel.” Antha let out a heavy
sigh and regarded her steadily for a moment. Aphra waited for him to lose
his temper, but he yawned and leaned his head back against the
headrest. “Man,” he said, “this
business about having younger sisters to take care of all of a sudden…
Phew, it makes me want to run away and join the circus.” “You’re a circus all
on your own.” “Woo! A quick
comeback. You must be feeling better.” She shrugged and
grimaced. “Did you find out anything else about Ashley?” “Just her age, her
parents, where she lives, the usual guff—enough to be pretty sure it’s our
little sister. That info was hard enough to wangle out of San Edhem City’s
computers, but I had help with that.” Gun would have
helped. Aphra hoped no trace of a blush showed on her face as she thought
of him. “Anyway, I’m on my
way to you now,” Antha said. “I figure we’ll go on over to Bob’s place and
hash this thing out, try to figure out what we should do.” She nodded.
“Okay.” “There’s one more
thing,” he said. “Ashley’s registered as being a personifid.” A funny, confused
twinge curled inside her. “Oh. Well, I guess we shouldn’t have assumed
she’d still be like us.” He looked critically
at her through the screen. “This isn’t happy news. It complicates things.
I’ll see you soon. Bye.” “Disconnected,”
Aphra’s computer said. The hovering screen disappeared. Aphra sat there
wondering what Antha could have meant. The confusion dizzied her and set
off another round of crying. “Drat it!” Aphra hugged Peppi to
her chest, trying to calm herself as the sobs welled up. Peppi squirmed
and wriggled around to reach Aphra’s cheek. The little dog’s warm tongue
swept against Aphra’s face, desperately scooping up all her tears. “Datricius is
here.” Aphra jumped at the
sound of her computer’s voice. “What?” “Your friend
Datricius is here. Do you want me to tell him you’re not well and to come
back later?” She shook her head
and rubbed her eyes, involuntarily letting out another sob. “He’s s-seen
me like this before. Let him in.” Her apartment door
slid silently open. She looked up from the couch and smiled bleakly at the
man who stood there. His tall, muscular build was framed in her doorway,
and for an instant he looked like a Greek god from myth, his silken pale
gold hair gleaming as it framed his strong bronze-tinted face. A face that
swiftly assumed a sympathetic expression as he saw her sitting there—the
corners of his mouth turned downward, the eyebrows raised in a silent
question. Datricius had the
best control of an artificial body that Aphra had seen. All his facial
expressions came smoothly, without any awkwardness, and his movements were
easy. She would almost take him for a person if she had not worked at
Sevig Empire for so long. She had learned to see into the eyes of both a
person and a personifid and see the human soul clearly shown in the first
but hidden in the latter. Peppi let out a growl
and began to shiver in Aphra’s lap. “It’s okay,” Aphra said quietly over
the little dog’s head. “You know Datricius. It’s okay.” “She still doesn’t
like me,” Datricius said. His sympathetic expression abruptly altered so
that his head tilted slightly, a neat furrow appeared between his
eyebrows, and his lower lip protruded petulantly. Aphra breathed in
slowly, waiting to recover some control of herself, and the tight feeling
in her chest eased somewhat. “It doesn’t matter what I try to do to get
her over this thing she has about personifids, she still freaks out. It’s
not you. Look, she doesn’t even like my left arm very much, just because
it’s artificial.” She held her left hand in front of Peppi’s nose. Peppi’s
lip curled involuntarily, then relaxed as she sniffed Aphra’s fingers.
“She is improving with androids, though.” Datricius smiled.
“That’s no help to me. I’m too full of soul to be an android.” Aphra felt another
sob welling up inside her, choking up in her throat. She shut her eyes
against it, but it was no good, she could not hold it in. “I’ve come at a bad
time,” Datricius said softly. Aphra held her right
hand out to him. “It’ll pass. W-wait.” “You really should go
back on the Life Enhancers, Aphra. This has been going on long enough. How
many months has it been now?” She doubled over,
gasping and sobbing, the tears streaming down her face. She shakily raised
both hands, seven fingers showing. “Far too long,” he
said. “It’s not right. You could be damaging yourself. I really feel you
should go back on the Life Enhancers and gain some control over yourself
again. I’ve only known you a short time, yet in that time I’ve seen you
steadily deteriorate. I’m sure it will continue worsening if you don’t do
something about it. I’m scared for you, Aphra.” She sat up and took a
deep breath, the sobs easing off. She leaned back against the couch
cushions, breathing slowly in and out. Peppi continued to cringe and press
back against her stomach while watching Datricius with big anxious
eyes. “I’m okay,” Aphra
finally managed to say. “I don’t think you
are. I’m really worried about you.” “If Antha can do it,
so can I.” “Did Antha have
months and months of trouble like this?” “No, but then I don’t
think he took as many Life Enhancers as I did. I used to take Tranquility
on a daily basis. I can’t expect to get over that right away.” “Perhaps not, but is
all this trouble worth it?” She sighed. “I do
wonder about that sometimes. Life was so much easier before. I miss
feeling calm and in control! I feel like my emotions, or lack of them, are
running my life right now, and it’s so difficult to get used to.” He leaned against the
wall and folded his arms, his posture sagging almost naturally. “It’s
because they’re not your real emotions. They’re fragmented pieces of
emotion that were kept in good order by the Enhancers. I’m afraid it’s too
late for you to change. You’re too old to try and stop taking them
now.” “Old?” she exclaimed,
grinning at him. “I’m only twenty-four!” He smiled back at
her. “I didn’t mean that. I meant that you’ve been taking the Enhancers
for too many years.” She tickled Peppi’s
ears. “Well, it’s not all bad. There are some good things about being off
them—some of the emotions I’m able to feel are good ones.” Love. Love for her
brother, the only family she knew, this she clung to. Love for her
friends, those she had met at around the same time as she had found Antha.
And now, Datricius. She had known him almost two months and could already
feel love beginning to grow. The love of family, friendship and romance
had become three distinct threads that wound strong ties inside her heart.
It almost made up for the pain that some days seemed to grip every fiber
of her being. She looked at
Datricius and mustered a smile. “What are you doing here, anyway?” He sat next to her,
causing Peppi to leap off her lap and run from the room. “Just visiting my
favorite fem. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you felt
well enough to come out for dinner. Now that I see you, I don’t think you
look very well at all.” “You’re always in the
neighborhood,” she teased. “And of course I’m well enough to go out. But I
can’t. I’m expecting Antha. Do you want to wait and meet him?” Datricius shook his
head, a small smile on his perfect lips. “From all you’ve told me about
him I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.” She was disappointed
but tried not to show it. “He’s not that bad, honest. Sure, he’s a little
protective of me, but he’s the best brother a fem could ask for.” “‘I’m going to punch
anyone who dates my sister,’” Datricius quoted. “Sounds more than just a
little protective.” “Anyone who hurts my
sister,” Aphra said, and linked her arm in Datricius’. He stood abruptly.
“I’d better go. How about I take you out tomorrow instead?” She stood and
followed him to the door. “I’d like that.” The door slid open
and Datricius went out into the hallway. He turned and smiled at her, an
affectionate smile this time, his sapphire personifid eyes blank. She wanted to respond
with a smile of her own, but felt drained and empty. She was sure her own
eyes would show that her smile was false. She reached out and touched his
arm briefly, a gesture that she hoped would assure him how she wanted to
feel. “Tomorrow then,” he
said, and leaned over and kissed her. She thought, as she
always did when he kissed her, of Gun, and cursed herself. She drew back
and forced a smile at Datricius. “Yes, tomorrow.” “You think some more
about going back on the Enhancers, Aphra. It’s plain to see you need
them.” She shrugged. He walked to the
exit. The wide doorway slid open at his approach, and a cacophony of
adverts throwing their audiocasts burst into the building. Aphra wrinkled her
nose—the apartment building’s computer systems were playing up again. They
should be blocking that irritating noise. “You’ll have to meet my brother
sometime,” she called. “There’s no avoiding it!” A grin spread over
Datricius’ handsome face as he walked out onto the narrow landing platform
and stood, fourteen floors up, looking out at * * *
She knelt by the
window, looking out over the mountainous city. The tawny blush of sunset
shone in her eyes. Beautiful eyes, the merest hint of blue illuminating
their crystalline perfection, set in a delicate golden face. Dark amethyst
hair that sparkled in the light flowed down around her face, resting just
below her slim shoulders. She clutched the windowsill with elegant, fine
fingers as she watched the valley below. The city was built
into singular mountains that ranged like standing stones. Dwellings were
cut deep inside. High-reaching buildings were set amidst the lush green
swaths of trees and plants that ran through the shadowed valleys. Sky cars
and hover-riders flitted like insects over the treetops, and glimpses of
the glistening blue threads of rivers that wound around the feet of the
buildings shone through the covering of leaves. All this she could see
from her viewpoint high above. None of the forest
was real, she knew that as she knew her own body. It was a recreation of
Earth of years gone by, before the air had become impure, before the
cities needed to be encased in shields to protect citizens from the
harmful rays of the sun. She was partway up
one of the more notorious mountains, there in one of the warrens. A
distant rhythmic bassline drifted up through the passages behind her room,
a deep pulsating that would soothe her back to senselessness if she was
not careful. From her window there
seemed no end to the mountains and skyscrapers—she could not see beyond
the city borders to the arid landscape she knew was there. The crying had
stopped, at least. She lifted her gaze to the sky, searching.
Searching.
* * * “Antha has arrived
and is now waiting for you at your usual exit,” said Aphra’s household
computer. Aphra sat on the
corner of her bed, her eyes half-closed as she idly stroked Peppi. It took
her a few moments to react to her computer’s announcement. She looked
across to the mirror on her bedroom wall. The face that looked back at her
was as wan and tired as she expected. “Fix my hair.” “What would you
like?” Aphra opened her
mouth, about to request silver, then frowned. He might be
there. “Short black.” In an instant, her
long blonde hair whisked upward as it shortened and altered to a neat
black bob. She grimaced at herself in the mirror. The color never seemed
to suit her. “Skin tone’s wrong. It’s too pale and pink.” She closed her
eyes and waited. A soft silken touch, like that of a breath, swept across
her face. The feeling was pleasant and she wanted to stretch out on the
bed and relax into it, rather than go out for the evening. “Warm olive
adjustment,” said her computer. Aphra looked
critically at her reflection. “It’s too strong. Antha will laugh at me.
Tone it down.” She closed her eyes again. The next time she looked she
felt more satisfied. If Gun was going to be there, then she had made sure
she looked the way he seemed to prefer. “I want a
sweater.” “Best match for you
today,” said the computer, as Aphra’s pyjama top changed color and form
into a figure-hugging teal sweater. “Fine,” she said.
“Now give me my favorite skirt and boots. No jewelry.” Her pyjama pants were
immediately replaced with a straight black skirt that settled above the
knee, and black boots that fully encased her feet but sent two
criss-crossing spirals of celtic patterns up her legs to the hem of her
skirt. She smoothed her hair
with a hand, took one last look in the mirror, and left the apartment,
pausing to scoop Peppi up in her arms. In the fourteenth
floor hallway she hesitated before the wide doors that led outside. She
flinched in anticipation as they slid open, but was relieved to find the
advert noises had been blocked. The only sound was of
Antha’s sky car hovering alongside the landing platform. Deep thrumming
came from it as it held position—Antha liked the sound of engine noise,
though most citizens did not. The sky car was a low, sleek racing model
with a brilliant red body decorated in yellow and orange flames sharply
outlined in black. Aphra had grown used to the looks it drew in
straight-laced Her mirrored image in
the sky car’s side slipped away as the door opened. Antha leaned across
the seats and looked up at her. “Move your big behind!” She stuck her tongue
out at him as she stepped into the sky car. A faint new sky car smell
mingled with Antha’s musky scent—all traces of the puking bounty had been
erased. “Hello Peepee,” Antha
said as Peppi wriggled furiously in Aphra’s hands, eagerly trying to reach
him. “Don’t call her
that,” Aphra said as the door slid shut. She let go of Peppi
and the little dog immediately bounded onto Antha’s lap, planted her
forefeet on his chest and licked his chin. “Quit slobbering,
goober,” he said to Peppi, as he gave her a quick scratch then pushed her
off and passed her back to Aphra. “Right, get moving, Jimbo.” The sky car
accelerated smoothly away from the landing platform and merged with the
streams of traffic. Aphra sank into the cushy black front passenger seat,
her fingers curling under one side to touch a sensor pad. It activated the
footrest and armrests. They silently eased into position and she sighed
and leaned back. She looked over at
Antha. “Have you called Birn and Lev to let them know we’re coming?” “Yes, I left them a
message.” She yawned and tried
not to pay much attention to the surrounding throng of the evening lights
and sky cars. “Did you tell them about Ashley?” “No, not yet.” He
looked at her. “You sound like you’re going to fall asleep on me. No
emotion now, huh? You’re in a drained phase?” She nodded
half-heartedly. “I sometimes think it’s better when I’m like this, not
crying or feeling anything much.” “It’s boring,” he
said, settling back and closing his eyes. “You don’t laugh. Have you had
any dinner?” “No.” “Aphra,” he said
languidly, opening one eye briefly to look at her, “do I need to admonish,
chastise, and fraternize you? You should be looking after yourself better.
Eating is one requirement of that, or so I hear.” “I’m okay.” “Sure. And that’s why
you’re looking off-color.” He grinned, his eyes still closed. “Very funny,” she
said. “I think I look good.” “Black hair doesn’t
suit you. Green is better.” She glanced out her
side window at a sky car that drew level with them. In its gleaming white
body the flaming reflection of Antha’s sky car was conspicuous. It ducked
down, a navy sky car moving up to take its place. The reflection slithered
across that, too. “If it was up to you, you’d have me wearing pink with
yellow spots.” “Maybe. Listen, Kirk,
order in Aphra’s favorite dinner.” “Affirmative,” said
the sky car computer in a high-speed voice. “Beans and onions it is!” A purple plastic box
materialized on the dashboard in front of Aphra, the white logo of her
favorite restaurant blinking and spinning above it. She reached for the
box, holding Peppi back with one hand. “Open,” she said when
she had the box on her knee and Peppi had been nudged over onto Antha’s
lap. The box unfolded with
a flourish, resembling an open flower, a tangle of seafood pasta in the
hollow center. An audiocast came from the box, a soft voice accompanied by
music. “Thank you for choosing—” “Shut it up,” Antha
said. The sound was
immediately silenced by the sky car computer. “That’s better. Don’t
need to hear it yammering on and asking if you want a half a cow to go
with it, or fifty serves of buttered sugar. Plus there’re probably
subliminal messages in that music that’ll give me an irresistible urge to
go and paint my feet blue.” “You’re so silly,”
Aphra said, picking up the tiny fork that lay on one of the flower’s
petals. The handle of the fork extended as she touched it, and she began
to eat. He smirked. “And so
handsome. Now, be a good sissy and tell me how your day has been. Did
Fluffy from Research drop by and tell Sniffy that Snuffy is madly in love
with Puffy?” Aphra sighed.
“Nothing like that happened, but I wish it had. I got in trouble for not
finishing my work shift.” “What kind of
trouble?” She prodded an oyster
around the flower box. “I’m under investigation.” “Investigation
schmestigation. Don’t they know you’re not well? Blurp, give Aphra a
security check.” “Dagnabbit!” said the
sky car computer’s slightly crazed voice. “She be tagged. I thinky Sevig
Empire signature mebbe on this tag. Now squishing the tag.” The computer
made a tiny explosive sound effect. Antha stared at
Peppi, a feigned expression of horror on his face. “Rat-dog, was that
you?” Aphra paused in
mid-chew of her pasta. “Don’t call her that.” “But it suits her and
she likes it. Don’t you, Rat-dog.” Peppi licked his hand
and wagged her fluffy curly tail enthusiastically, creating a mini fan
that wafted ginger hairs around the interior of the sky car. “Traitor,” Aphra said
softly. Antha shut his eyes
again, one hand covering Peppi’s head so that her pointed nose was just
visible. “We need to get you some upgraded security on your home computer.
Then you’ll be able know when good ole Sevig Empire’s watching you and get
them to buzz off.” “I can’t afford something
like that.” She speared some more pasta with her fork. “Besides, what do I
ever do that they could be interested in? Everytime I go out of
“You shouldn’t work
there anyway. Not after what Sevig did to you.” Aphra swallowed.
“What else can I do for a job?” “Uh,” he grunted.
“You’ll find something.” She watched a distant
group of gyrating skyscrapers moving in a slow dance amongst the other,
static, buildings. “I might have to soon, anyway. They’re starting to say
I’ll have to become a personifid if I want to keep working for them.” She dug absently at
her pasta. “You know…it used to be okay that the first face a client would
see was that of a person—it seemed to make Sevig Empire more
approachable—but now that doesn’t seem to be necessary.” She yawned and
rubbed her eyes. “And it used to be that people would call making
enquiries about personifids, but now I’m making appointments for
personifid transferences all day long.” “Don’t become a
personifid,” Antha said. “Of course I won’t,”
she said, looking over at him. He lay back with his
eyes closed, his long legs up on the lower extension of his seat, his
fingers clasped over Peppi as she lay on his chest. The sky car began to
decelerate as they approached The sky car suddenly
dipped and Antha’s eyes popped open. “Have a care, Billy. Don’t be bucking
wildly about in busy traffic.” “Me so sorry,” said
the sky car computer. “But you’d do the same thing if you had a
hover-rider coming straight at your head.” “All right, but if
Aphra throws chunks, I’m holding you personally responsible.” “As you wish,
fatty.” Round steel stations
encircled each end of the tubes, and high powered zips read the imprints
of all occupants traveling through. In this way all imprints were logged
in or out. The sky car passed
into the station and through the tube. They emerged on the outside of the
dome, where the air was noxious. Once through the gateway the sky was no
longer the clean, deep blue that resulted from the protection of the city
shields. Rather it was dusky red, dotted with the starry lights of sky
cars. The sky car computer’s voice
broke the silence. “ Antha did not move
from his position. “Huh.” Aphra took a faded
orange rubbery sleeve out of a glove compartment and pulled it on over her
right wrist. Antha cocked an eye
at her. “Isn’t it time you stopped bothering with that? We’re masked,
anyway.” She smoothed the
puckers out of the sleeve. “I want to make sure my imprint is totally
blocked, just in case.” “If Sevig was still
alive he probably would have tracked you to Lev’s before now and sent his
goons after her or Imogen. It’s been ages. He’s done nothing. Imogen’s
gone to the moon or wherever now, so there’s no point watching you.” She flexed her right
hand, moving her wrist easily beneath the sleeve. “I’m not convinced he
was discontinued.” “You think the face
they have prancing about the Sevig Empire adverts isn’t a False Artificial
Representation? The rumors that he’s alive will keep going round and
around until it can be proved conclusively that Sevig did or did not go kaboom. Let it
go.” She shook her head.
“How do we know that tag I had wasn’t Sevig’s idea?” “Too clumsy. Doesn’t
show enough determination to follow you in a truly sneaky manner.” She hesitated,
looking at the sleeve. “Well, I guess I could try going without it.” “‘Course you could.
Hairball thinks so, too.” She smiled at him,
and leaned over to stroke Peppi behind the ear. Peppi stirred in her
sleep, stretching out on Antha’s chest. “You sound like
you’re feeling better,” Antha said. “I told you you should eat, didn’t
I?” She stuffed the
orange sleeve back into the glove compartment then settled back into her
seat. “Yes, you were right again.” He grunted and
nodded. “Sometimes it’s tough being me and being right all the time. You
want to watch a movie? I’m going to catch some sleep, not that there’s
much time for that, but I need some. I had a long day.” At his words his seat
reclined until it was fully horizontal, extending to support his whole
body. Aphra looked out the windscreen to the desert
landscape speeding along beneath them. There were jagged cracks in the dry
crust where the She never seemed to
tire of the desert—a lonely beauty, marred only by other vehicles fleeting
across the sky. “No,” she said quietly. “I’m fine.” |
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