Stasis (Part 2): Iterate

by E. W. Osborne

  There were no lifeguards, as if the council knew the water would always be so cold only the bravest and most capable would dare venture in. In that case, they could save themselves if need be. No one would stop her from going into the water.

  She turned left and headed straight for the dark blue sea. If she squinted just right, she could almost convince herself she was looking at the Mediterranean. The warm sun against her aged cheek, a kite snapping in the breeze down the beach… it was the perfect promise of a great British summer to come.

  Icy water filled her shoes, soaking them straight away and turning them into cumbersome bricks. Her knees splashed frigid water up her body, the steady pace only slowed by the water’s resistance. She gasped once as she dipped her shoulders under the water, but after dunking her head below the surface, the cold began to feel strangely warm.

  The heavy, soaked clothes pulled at her like weak hands. She walked until she could no longer feel the ground. With a slight surge of panic, she splashed her way onto her back and tried to float. Holding a deep breath in her lungs, she was able to keep herself somewhat balanced. The water in her ears muffled any sounds coming from the shore. Even if people were yelling for her, she wouldn’t have been able to hear.

  She wasn’t sure how long she floated until she first looked up, but when she did, land was a shocking distance away. The whole seafront looked like a postcard she would’ve sent if she had anyone who cared to receive one from her. In her surprise, she let go of the tenuous control she had on her flotation. Her feet swung down. Her body sank. The water surged over her head. With a few floundering splashes was she able to resurface.

  A natural fear chilled her to the core. It was as if her very cells knew this wasn’t going to end well.

  More and more energy was sapped gulping for air each time she sank below the surface. Exhaustion and cold robbed her strength until she could no longer struggle to stay afloat.

  As the frigid water filled her lungs, a strange calmness overwrote the panic. The last part of her consciousness wondered, just before fading away.

  Maybe this is why I never learned how to swim.

  He double checked the lock on the front door, the thunderous sound of water upstairs telling him the tub was almost full. There were few moments in the unit when he could be alone and unbothered. For once, he was going to enjoy a nice bath.

  Clothes came off as he jogged up the narrow stairs, discarded in the corner of the steamy bathroom. A neighbor was playing music, far too loud for this early in the day, but it didn’t bother him.

  Stepping a foot into the water, he hissed at the temperature but didn’t slow his entry. He held a replacement blade for the razor that’d been a gift from his grandmother when he turned twenty. The cool tiles against his skin felt icy. And compared to the prickly, stinging heat of the water, the razor across his skin barely registered.

  As the vital blood pumped from his body into the water around him, he shivered. The water lapped at his nostrils as he thought, Funny how the water gets cold so quickly.

  The near constant wind of the South Downs cut away any warmth the sun was trying to provide, but they weren’t about to let it ruin their picnic. Strategically placed wind-blockers provided at least a little reprieve, even if it meant they had to huddle close together. It also meant blocking the beautiful white, chalky cliffs, but it’s not like they were going anywhere.

  Steve had been planning this little outing since hearing the first weather report. Their spring had been especially dreary, so he jumped at the opportunity to design a great family day out. It’d taken a bit of convincing to get Amy on board, but of course the kids were excited.

  “Isn’t this why we had a family?” he’d asked her one night while getting ready for bed. “We can’t sit around watching telly all week and expect them to be…”

  “Yeah, alright, fine,” she’d snapped, looking at him through the reflection of the mirror. “I get it. But if you expect me to cook, you’ll be going hungry.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned. When the kids are older, he’d told himself that night, they won’t remember the cheap sandwiches. They’ll remember the day.

  But as they huddled behind the bulging striped fabric, he wished they’d done something a little more special than store-bought. Ava and Samuel ate away contentedly, but it just didn’t feel right. A special day deserved a special meal.

  “Next time we’ll get a couple baguettes and make our own, yeah?” he suggested. Amy shrugged. The kids didn’t respond. He decided to try a different subject. “You know, your granddad used to take me up here when I was your age.”

  “That must’ve been hundreds and hundreds of years ago, huh Da?” Ava responded with a cheeky grin. He caught a glimpse of what she might look like as an adult, or at least of the nightmare waiting ahead in her teens.

  “Centuries. The cliffs were a lot smaller back then. They’ve grown up a lot,” he added with a wink.

  Once lunch was done, the kids scampered off to play. He and Amy watched as they picked flowers, chased rabbits, kicked a ball around. Every now and then she’d give a shout.

  “Not too close to the edge, now!” After the third time she had to yell, she rounded on him. “Have we had enough family time yet?”

  He swallowed a lump in his throat and rejected the first five responses that sprang to mind. “A few more minutes. They’re having fun.”

  They sat in a silence that spoke volumes of the state of their marriage. They quietly watched their progeny play like cautious caretakers, the thought of joining in never occurring to them.

  Like a fan losing power, the wind suddenly ceased. A haunting calm stilled the windbreaker, dropped the kites, and allowed the heat to radiate from above.

  Coincidentally, that’s right when a strange internal calm settled over the pair. Their eyes met. They shared a smile. They spoke in that unspoken language of life partners.

  He jumped to his feet and yelled over to his kids. “I want to show you something!” He crouched as they jogged over. “You want to get close to the cliff? Look over the edge?”

  “Yeah!” they cried in unison.

  Amy hoisted little Samuel on her shoulders while he lifted Ava. With the innocent trust of a child never before harmed, they didn’t question the safety of moving closer to the edge. He and Amy walked to the precipice of the high cliff, their children balanced on their backs. A slight breeze rippled their shirts. He wished he could see the horizon, but the murky sea fog obscured the view. Still, he had his memory.

  Amy stepped into the open space first. She and Samuel disappeared so much faster than he thought possible. If they screamed, their shouts were sucked away by the wind. He was a split second behind. As his foot hovered into the abyss, Ava’s hands tightened under his chin. He tightened his grip on her ankles as she bucked away from the edge.

  “Daddy?” she gasped, betrayed.

  And they fell.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Steele Industries - Upstate, NY

  CHRISTOPHER’S second week on the job was a bit different from his first. Even though he continued to lie to Kristine about the nature of his work, his life had changed so much since his last shift. He was going to be a father, a husband. The trip up to the complex was one filled with plenty of contemplation, finally settling on a renewed desire to stick it out. He decided it was time for him to grow up and accept the family he was born into. He’d accepted the job out of desperation, but with his life on a new trajectory, he wanted to fully commit.

  Jamie sensed the shift in him. The moment he met his car outside that same small door, he noticed a difference.

  “You look like a man ready to work,” his brother said as they pulled away from a quick handshake.

  Christopher nodded, not really knowing how to reply. “You don’t have to meet me out here every week, you know. I’ll probably get lost, but I’d eventually find my way to your office if I asked the right people.”

  Jamie laughed a lot lo
uder than the joke warranted. “That you would. So? How was your week? Get up to anything fun in the city?”

  He still wasn’t used to this friendly, chipper side of his brother. In a weird way, it kind of gave him the creeps. It was a bit like watching an actor work on their craft. The emotions, expressions, and voice all felt real but artificial all at the same time. He chalked it up to the distance between them. It’d been years since they’d spent a considerable amount of time together. People change.

  Christopher hesitated in telling him the good news, but quickly reconsidered. If I can’t share this with family, then who can I share it with?

  “It was good, actually,” he said as Jamie held the door open for him.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, uh. The girl I’ve been seeing, Kristine. We got engaged.”

  Jamie stopped dead in his tracks and threw his hands up like his home team had scored a touchdown. “You’re kidding me? That’s amazing!” He wrapped his arms around Christopher’s shoulder in an awkward embrace. “I’m gonna have a sister-in-law.”

  “I guess you are,” he laughed nervously. After this reaction, he decided to keep the other news to himself for a bit longer. He might explode if I tell him he’ll be an uncle, too.

  The resumed walking the same path he’d taken the first day. “I’m gonna have to meet this girl.”

  “Sure, of course.” I didn’t really think this through, he thought, regretting his decision. He almost dropped the bombshell that she’d been part of the cause of all Jamie’s sleepless nights, but didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  “Then my instincts were right. You are a man with a mission today. New wife, a wedding on the horizon.”

  “Heh, yeah,” Christopher agreed, unable to shake the feeling he was speaking to a pod person who looked like his brother, but certainly didn’t act like him. The Jamie he knew cared only for the company, for design and profits and technology.

  “Last week was orientation. I did have an idea for you, but let’s get you a bump up the ladder,” he laughed, slapping Christopher on the back. “I’ve got a new job in mind.”

  An hour later, Christopher found himself in a new part of the building, sitting in front of a vast display. An array of screens each broadcast an individual’s Dreamscape, a feature he never knew was possible. Jamie had given him a brief rundown of the secret project as he walked him down the maze of hallways. Now they were in the security of the room, he gave him the gritty details.

  “All you have to do is monitor these scenes for any odd glitches or behaviors. If someone acts out of character given the situation, end the Dreamscape.”

  Christopher was overwhelmed by not only the complexity of the task but the fact it could be done at all. “How do I know if they’re showing an odd behavior?”

  Jamie looped his thumbs on the waist of his trousers. “Go with your gut. Look at where they are and what they’re doing. See what happens. Ask yourself how you’d react. How would you expect someone else to respond? If it seems weird, kill it.” He pointed to a dashboard, each screen attached to a corresponding trigger of sorts.

  “Isn’t that wrong? Won’t they notice they didn’t finish?” He frowned at the screens, realizing how little he actually knew about the technology and what it was like to use. He considered what it was like to dream, thinking it was at least comparable.

  “Any Dreamscape ended from an external source is deleted locally. They won’t remember a thing.”

  “But they’ll remember wanting the Dreamscape though, right? Like, before they went to sleep, setting it up.”

  Jamie shook his head slowly left to right, his eyes unmoving despite the gesture.

  Christopher looked back at the wall of displays. Most of the Dreamscapes were benign fantasies and vacations, but a few looked to be verging on the violent. One person was jogging in a dark park, apparently following a woman in tight pants who kept looking over her shoulder. Another was systematically destroying a bland, beige office, apparently their workplace.

  He pointed at the screen just as a chair went flying through a plate glass window. “And that’s okay? That’s normal given the circumstances?”

  Jamie placed his hands on the center console, leaning his weight forward. His head hung down, shoulder blades pinched. Christopher immediately regretted asking so many questions. “Maybe I’m pushing you too far, too fast. I forget how little you really know,” Jamie said finally.

  “No, no. It’s fine.”

  “Are you sure? I can always find something else for you,” Jamie said, looking over his shoulder. Christopher could only see a fraction of his face, but knew he was on the verge of sending him to monitor server room temperatures or some other equally embarrassing job.

  “Honestly. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Christopher shook his head in utter disbelief. “I didn’t know the Seed was capable of anything like this. They all know we’re watching them?”

  His brother laughed that robotic laugh again. “You’re starting to sound like the lawyers. You want me to send you their release forms?”

  “No, I just…”

  “It’s completely above-board, don’t worry,” he interrupted. “Absolutely, one hundred percent.”

  “So is there a new roll out or update causing this?”

  His brother stared at the screens, his expression dull and unflinching. “Something like that.” After a few beats he seemed to come-to. “So! That’s about it, really. Sophie will go over the details you’ll need to include in the report and I’ll come see you for dinner.”

  Jamie stopped at the door and rapped his knuckles against the metal frame. “Dad would be proud, you know? Having us both here working on this.”

  Warmth spread across his chest at the thought. He hadn’t known their father all that well. What little he did remember clashed with the idea of a beaming father figure, but he took Jamie’s word for it. It was a nice sentiment offered with kindness. “Yeah, I think he would.”

  “You give me a shout if you need anything. You know where I’ll be.”

  Sophie, the soft-spoken woman who Jamie had mentioned, had come in to check on him only a half hour after Jamie left him to it. She showed him how to focus on one screen in particular so he could drill down deeper if something seemed off.

  “Look, you can even turn on audio,” she’d said as she keyed in a new command.

  Thankfully, she’d chosen a relatively tame shot of a person watching a sunset on a white beach. The sky was a gorgeous blend of oranges, pinks, yellows, and blues. Instantly, the speakers flooded the room with the crashing waves. He could almost smell the salt, feel the foam licking at his toes.

  “I still can’t believe this is possible,” he’d whispered in awe.

  “Your father was a genius,” she replied with equal amazement. “And your brother.”

  The middle-aged woman seemed more open than his brother. Wanting to impress on his first day, he probed her a little. “What exactly is it I’m looking for?”

  “Anything out of the ordinary,” she said, a line forming between her eyebrows.

  “Oh, I know,” he laughed. “But what… say, what have you seen specifically? Why have you stopped a Dreamscape?”

  Sophie smiled down at him like a mother. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

  “This is the life,” a feminine voice whispered.

  He jumped and looked behind him. “What the hell was that?”

  She laughed, genuinely amused at his shock. “Sorry, should’ve told you about that. We can hear their thoughts. It always sounds wispy like that. Somewhere between a whisper and a sigh.”

  He wiped his face quickly with one hand as if brushing away the surprise. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she’d said before leaving. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

  The angles made the observation feel even more invasive. Literally looking through someone else’s eyes was the strangest ty
pe of voyeurism. Jamie had said that after a while it started to feel like nothing more than a movie, but hours into his work, Christopher still couldn’t get comfortable with it.

  There was an array of ten screens, each showing a different Dreamscape. A unique person in the world, a human being with hopes and dreams and fears and worries. Being granted this personal access to their brain was humbling and freakish. On top of never having experienced a Dreamscape, Christopher felt well out of his depth with that amount of responsibility in his hands.

  But with Kristine and their growing family constantly on the forefront of his mind, he buckled down and did his best. He knew Jamie giving him this position was leagues better than he deserved. Unqualified, uneducated, if he had any hopes of preserving his position in the company on merit, not just by name, he had to do well at this task.

  With every passing hour and Dreamscape, Christopher wondered if they might be messing with him. While most of the Dreamscapes were on the strange side, none of the users seemed to behave oddly, given the contexts. A few required a deeper, audible focus to get the true meaning of the fantasy.

  One particular scene had his finger hovering just over the kill switch until he turned on the audio. With a little twinge of guilt and shame, his focus was drawn to an exceedingly steamy scene set in a cabin. A woman, a leggy blonde who looked like she’d just finished work on a catwalk, was spread out on a fur skin blanket. A roaring fire flicked orange light against her bare skin. She beckoned to the screen, a sultry smile spreading across her thin face. Christopher couldn’t help but fall into the fantasy.

  He shifted in his seat as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. The point of view was shockingly realistic. It didn’t take any stretch of the imagination to pretend he was right there, in that cabin, in that woman’s arms. Really, it wasn’t much different than any porn he’d seen, but knowing it was someone’s intimate fantasy made it even more tantalizing.