Wired

by Caytlyn Brooke

  I watch him go, noticing the dark orange Vertix on his neck. The fierce longing to connect returns and I think of my own copper device. I know I should start going through my emails, but I have to try.

  Rolling backward, I snag my purse from the bottom drawer and open the black hole it has become. Rather than searching through dozens of old receipts, napkins and promotional pens, I reach directly into the little side pocket and stroke the glistening surface of my copper Vertix. Despite the internal damage, it still shines like a new penny. I think back to Andy’s words as he held me on the bathroom floor. It’s fried; she must have gotten it wet.

  I haven’t tried it since that night, not wanting to be reminded of that particular experience. For the past week, my iJewel has worked just fine, but after the duck tour and—after last night—doubts about my older tech have started to surface. I want to be a part of that immersive social world again. Also, the incredible rush can only help me get through my increasing workload.

  Hopeful that the soapy water has long-since dried, I bend my neck and place the Vertix onto my skin. Using the pad of my thumb, I swipe the sensor along the back, waiting with baited breath for the small device to activate. A small whirring sound surrounds me and my heart leaps with excitement. It’s working! It’s fixed!

  I close my eyes and brace myself for the familiar bite of the leg-like sensors, but nothing happens. I try swiping the Vertix again, but this time the soft whirring doesn’t even sound. Disappointment fills me like lead and I pull the Vertix away from my neck, placing it on the gray desk in front of me. The little copper device sits there dully, like a giant paperweight. I frown sadly. There is no life, no spark from the small machine, nothing to hint at the transformative abilities hidden within.

  “Time,” I say, tapping the iJewel screen. Three hours until lunch. I breathe deeply and slide the Vertix to the side, not completely out of sight, but far enough away so it isn’t a distraction. Who am I kidding? I can push the Vertix out of sight, but it won’t be out of my thoughts. The faster I get this fixed, the faster I can focus on something else. “Maybe Robins will let me run out quick, if I say I have a personal errand,” I mumble to myself, trying to figure out the best way to do this. “Maybe—if it’s related to the school thing.”

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m out of my chair, striding through the cubicles to the modern office in the corner. As I approach, I see Robins leaning over her desk, penciling notes around a border of one of the submitted design layouts for the mystery/thriller cover coming out next month. Shit, another thing to add to the list. I wrinkle my nose. At this rate, I’m really not going to have a social life. I reach the door and Robins glances up, waving me inside.

  “Hello, Margaret, what can I help you with?” Ms. Robins asks, eyeing me over her glasses. She’s wearing the white pair today.

  “Hi, I was actually wondering if I could step out for an hour or so?” I say, trying to phrase the request casually. “I’m really excited to get started on the school project and I wanted to get a feel for which schools would be interested.” I resist the urge to twist my fingers as my heart beats loudly in my chest.

  Robins cocks her head, her dark hair hardly moving thanks to the full can of hairspray she must have used. “And you need to go to these schools in person? Is there something wrong with your iJewel?” she asks.

  I lick my lips and shake my head, deciding to go with the truth. “No, my iJewel is fine, however, I recently suffered from an incident that left my Vertix inoperable. I thought it would be more professional to contact them via live chat compared to a stream.” I motion to the rose gold iJewel wrapped around my wrist.

  For a moment, Robins studies me in silence. At last she turns her head and nods once. “I agree. I think that shows how serious we are about this project. Well done, Margaret. Go get that thing fixed and let me know which schools are interested by the end of the day, please.”

  A renewed excitement courses through me. This is going to be easier than I thought. I turn to leave.

  “Which schools have you notated so far?” Robins asks, her pencil ready to jot down my progress.

  Great, I should have known there was going to be a catch. Frantically I rack my brain for nearby schools. Hopefully she can’t see the look of utter panic in my eyes. “Ah, I was thinking Excel Academy, Curtis Guild Middle School, and East Boston High,” I ramble off, naming the first three that pop into my head.

  Ms. Robins raises her eyebrows and purses her lips. “Well those are certainly encompassing a wide variety of students,” she says.

  I hear the disapproval in her tone. “I know, but I thought it would be a good starting point. That way we can launch the program in each of these schools and based on their feedback, narrow our target audience and go from there,” I explain, not even sure what I’m promising.

  “Excellent,” Robins nods, turning her attention back to the pencil drawing. I stand there for several seconds, unsure whether or not she’s finished. Robins raises her sharp green eyes. “That’s all, Margaret.”

  “Right, sorry,” I say, pivoting on my heels and fumbling for the sleek door handle.

  “Oh, and Margaret?” Ms. Robins calls.

  “Yes?” I say over my shoulder.

  “Be sure to have your cover design to me by the end of the week. We really need to get the ball rolling on this,” Robins adds.

  “Of course,” I say, biting back the reply that dances on my tongue. As if I don’t have anything else to do. I back out of the doorway and pull the handle closed, exhaling. Now that I’m out from under my boss’s stare, a jolt of excitement pumps through my veins like adrenaline. I picture my dead Vertix awaiting me on my desk. Soon it will pulse with life.

  I fly through the maze-like stations, not stopping as numerous people greet me. I only have an hour; I can’t afford to waste time with mindless chitchat. At my desk I grab the copper Vertix and gently place it back in the side pouch. Once it’s secured, I snag my tan pea coat off the back of my chair, sending it into a slow spin.

  “See you later, Martin,” I call. Not waiting around for his response, my feet fly through the office, carrying me toward the golden elevator in less than a minute. My toes tap impatiently as the double doors slide apart, opening like a hungry mouth, ready to swallow me whole. Eagerly I leap inside, bouncing up and down on the red velvet tongue. The doors slide closed, sealing me inside and the descent begins. A cheerful tune plays above my head and I hum along, hitting several wrong notes without care. I’m in too good a mood. I reach inside my purse and gingerly touch the small bump within. Soon, you’ll be alive and warm in my hands.

  A moment later, the elevator doors slide open and I’m across the lobby in one breath.

  “Morning, Miss Maggie,” Acey greets, clearly confused. “You leaving for the day already?”

  I breeze through the open door he’s holding for me. “Nope, personal errand. I’ll be back soon,” I say over my shoulder, stepping out in the warm autumn sunshine. The bright rays feel wonderful on my face but I don’t stop to enjoy them, racing for the nearest hoverbike station. I swipe my iJewel for payment in one swift motion, rush to the released bike and hop into the seat. Pants make riding so much easier.

  Tapping the Torch mounted onto the handlebars, I easily navigate the web until I find the nearest Yeti location, and the route highlights in pale green. Immediately the steel wheels begin to churn, pulling the bike forward along the flush track. I settle down, propping my feet on the platform and let my mind go blank as the cool breeze ruffles my hair. My excitement begins to wear off as I cruise through the busy city streets. I launch Weather Cat, missing my friend.

  “Hello, Cat, how’ve you been lately?” I ask, looking down at the fat, blue and white holographic tabby. He slowly opens his narrow eyes, an annoyed glare on his hairy face. He takes his time, elongating his limbs and stretching with a large yawn. His ears rotate backward.

  “Hello, Maggie,” Weather Cat purrs, moving to stand on all
four paws, only to sit down again. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Do you want to know if snow is in the forecast?” The tabby jiggles his head with pretend enthusiasm.

  “No, I just wanted to talk. I haven’t seen you in a while. I miss you,” I admit, staring down at his holographic fluffy body.

  “Hmm,” Weather Cat purrs, enjoying the compliment. “Thanks. I’m surprised you haven’t visited me in the Vertix yet. I’m not bragging, but that diamond resolution makes my coat look fabulous.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy and I actually broke my Vertix. That’s where I’m off to right now, to get it fixed and running again. Maybe I’ll visit you sooner than you thought,” I add.

  Weather Cat narrows his slit silver eyes and turns his head to the right. “Yes…well, now that you’ve woken me you can at least ask me for the weather report.”

  I recognize the sign that Weather Cat won’t converse for much longer and quickly fulfill his request. “What can I expect for the rest of the day?”

  Weather Cat grins, his lips spreading upward in a long, thin line. “The temperature will drop shortly, down into the mid-sixties. Along with that, a possible thunderstorm is on its way.” He pauses and looks down at the red hoverbike frame. “I’d find a different mode of transportation for your ride back to the office. You’ll be soaked through in minutes if you take this…contraption again,” he says with distaste.

  “Thank you, Weather Cat. I’ll take the subway back to work,” I say, shaking my head as he reaches out a cautious paw to touch the handlebars. “You know, dogs ride on these things in little baskets all the time.”

  Weather Cat turns his attention away from the bike and fixes me with a dark glare. “And that’s why they will always be the inferior species. Riding in a basket on this rickety chariot,” he scoffs. “Is that the end to your homemade fun facts?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” I say with a sigh, rolling my eyes. “As always, thank you for your company, Weather Cat.”

  “Of course, Maggie. And do look me up in the Vertix. I’m dying to show off my satin-like fur.” The cat meows. “Ta.”

  Weather Cat vanishes in a white spark, leaving me alone. I lower my wrist and tilt my face up, loving the way the wind teases my hair. All around me motorists and pedestrians go about their day, following directions absentmindedly. I feel happy and alive.

  The hoverbike slows a short while later, stopping directly in front of the Yeti store. I hop off, debating whether or not I should program the bike to wait for me. Weather Cat’s warning echoes in my mind and I stare at the gathering clouds in the distance. They’re white and puffy right now, but Weather Cat would never lie to me. Running my teeth over my bottom lip, I dismiss the hoverbike.

  My mind shifts to the task at hand. Cool, artic air blasts as I pull open the frosted glass doors of Yeti. Today the hordes of waiting sales reps eager to wait on me hand and foot are nowhere to be seen. I follow the bright white path to a large podium-style desk, where a new, almost-translucent Torch is on display. I quickly sign in.

  “Welcome to Yeti,” the Torch greets warmly. A beautiful brunette with her hair in a slick bun gazes at me from the screen. “George will be with you momentarily. Please enjoy our coffee and snack bar while you wait.” The woman turns, her profile coming out of the Torch to point me in the direction of the refreshments.

  I hesitate, debating whether or not it would be rude to touch her face. I’ve never seen graphics like this before. She doesn’t look like a hologram, doesn’t look like a projection at all. She looks real, her skin smooth with a rosy blush to it.

  The woman looks at me out of the corner of her pale amber eyes, a hint of a smile on her full lips. “You will be notified when George is available. Please, no touching,” she adds politely.

  I shake my head, withdrawing my fingers from her impossible appearance. She’s just a screen. How does she look so real? I really need to see Weather Cat once I get my Vertix fixed. Leaving the strange Torch, I wander around the store, still surprised by how empty it is. There are no more interactive stations or endless lines. Apart from me, there are only two other customers in the place.

  “Are you Maggie?” an almost bored voice asks.

  I turn around to see George, the same guy I met the other week during the Vertix launch, standing behind me, staring down at the Torch in his hands. Unlike last time, his eyes aren’t smoldering. Today, the only word to describe his countenance is apathetic.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I answer.

  “What can I help you with?” George asks, his eyes still focused on the Torch screen.

  “Oh yeah,” I say. I open my purse and withdraw the broken copper body from the pouch. “I accidentally got my Vertix wet and I need it fixed…for work,” I add.

  George scoffs, his shoulders rising and falling with the sound. “You got it wet?” he stresses, as if it’s the highest of all blasphemies. “Well that wasn’t too bright.” His eyes move from his screen to the Vertix in my hand. I wrinkle my brow, put off by both his tone and the fact that he has yet to make eye contact.

  “Yes, I understand that. That’s why I’m here, to get it fixed. I tried turning it on about ten minutes ago. It sounded like it was powering up. There was a soft whirring sound, but then it turned off again,” I explain, holding it out to him.

  George ignores the offered Vertix. “Well, yeah, surprise, surprise it didn’t turn on. You got it wet,” he stresses again, his thin lips stretching in an ugly manner as he emphasized the last word.

  “Is there anyone else I can speak to about this?” I ask, trying hard to keep the frustration out of my voice.

  George laughs. “No, I’m the only one here today.”

  “Oh, why?” I ask, surprised.

  George sighs, as if my questions are the actual bane of his existence. “Look around, honey. We don’t need nine reps anymore. Once the H2 launched, orders for new lines are all submitted online and any tech issues are handled directly by the Vertix. Unless you’re foolish enough to drop it into the toilet,” he snickers, gesturing to me.

  I gape at him. “Look, that’s not what happened. I just need you to fix this and then I will leave, seeing as how I’m such an inconvenience to your day.”

  George looks at me at last, his vision clouded and unfocused. “You can’t fix it. Once water infiltrates the device, the damage is irreparable. Your only option is to buy a new one.” He rubs the back of his neck, as if trying to grasp something that isn’t there.

  My eyes balk at my only alternative. “Buy a new one? I just spent almost three grand on this one. I can’t afford to pay that again,” I say in disbelief.

  George’s eyes go back to his screen, tapping away. “Did you buy the protection insurance?” he asks, as if already knowing the answer.

  “No, I didn’t. But isn’t there some way I can trade this one in for a new one at a discounted price?”

  “Ah, no. That’s like bringing a pair of jeans back to the store and demanding your money back because you ripped them,” George says, shaking his head. “Christ, what I wouldn’t give to connect right now.”

  His last comment is said quietly, almost as if to himself. I know the feeling.

  I glance down at my iJewel. “Time,” I instruct. Ten thirty-six. I’m running out of time. “Look, tell me what I have to pay to get a replacement Vertix—in the same color,” I tack on. I don’t want to get stuck with an ugly gray or watermelon pink.

  George shoots a longing look over his shoulder, toward a silver door marked Employees Only. “Fine, I can check if we have any more in the copper. It wasn’t a very popular color so you might be in luck. I’ll insert a new data ray chip and then it’ll be as good as new, because it will actually be new.”

  “Great. And I’m in a hurry.” I feel my anxiety level lower as George taps a few more buttons on his Torch.

  “Of course you are,” he says with a sigh, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. If I had more time, I’d ask for the manager to complain about his custome
r service but as long as I walk out of here with a working Vertix, I’ll let it slide. “All right, that comes to $2,322.53 for a brand new Vertix H2,” George says, looking up. His bored stare now has a hint of smugness. I growl low in my throat. I can’t believe I ever wanted to sleep with this guy.

  “Fine,” I reply, my eyes narrowing as I pull up Enyo to pay. Quickly I check the balance in my savings account. After years of saving birthday money and the majority of my paychecks, buying another Vertix won’t deplete my funds, but still, the large amount debiting in red hits me like a punch to the gut. I reach my arm toward George’s scanner when a new thought pops into my mind. The broken Vertix might not be worth anything, but I still have something else for trade. “How much for my iJewel?”

  “What?” George asks. Obviously I’m the farthest thing from his mind.

  “I asked how much will you give me for my iJewel?” I repeat. “It’s not even a year old yet and still in flawless condition. When I bought it I paid twelve hundred dollars so it has to be worth at least nine hundred, right?”

  George glances up from the screen, his charcoal eyes faraway once more. “Let me see it,” he orders, holding out his free hand. I unclasp the beautiful rose-colored iJewel and hand it to him. Now it’s my turn to be smug.

  George examines the iJewel for a moment, then plugs a new calculation into his Torch. “I’ll give you $822.13 for your iJewel, not a penny more. That brings your new total down to $1490.87, plus tax.” He eyes me warily, waiting for me to back down.

  “Done,” I agree. “Can you still scan my Enyo though, before you deactivate the iJewel?”

  George ignores me and pivots on his heels toward the back room. “It’s already done. I’ll be right back.”

  I watch him go and glance down at my iJewel to check the time again, but all I see are golden hairs and brown freckles. Right. A quiet longing pulls at my heart as I stare at the empty space so recently occupied on my wrist. I’m very excited to get the Vertix, to be able to connect again, but I miss my iJewel already. It’s a bittersweet moment, like saying goodbye to an old friend as you step onto a rocket with a new one. But think of the speed, the ingenuity, the late-night desserts. I picture Marco, nude and glorious before me. Suddenly there’s no question that I’m doing the right thing.