by Anthology
I did an Internet search and was, once again, blown away by what I had missed. Binaurals were big business. Huge.
I walked into Miell’s bedroom. There in the bedside table were the headphones I’d seen Hayes listening to when she wasn’t at home. They were hardwired into a dedicated audio device. Odd, I thought, I never saw her wearing them in any of Hayes’ memories. But then, I couldn’t watch every minute of his life.
I put them on and turned up the volume.
***
“Hayes, are you asleep?”
“No.”
“Mom told me to check your chip yesterday. I almost forgot again.”
He rolled over and looked at me sleepily.
Sure enough, it blinked red. I popped the chip out, put it on the table and turned back to him. I stroked his soft cheek, passively bemoaning the day in the future when coarse whiskers would sprout from them.
“I want you to come to my house for a visit.”
“Your house?”
“Uh-huh. We’ll wait till school’s out and go then.”
“Does Mom know?”
“Um, no. I just thought of it. Don’t mention it yet. Let me work out the details first, okay?”
“Sure. How will we get there? How far is it?”
“Let’s talk tomorrow. Another week of school?”
He nodded.
“Okay, I’ll need to tell the school camp that you won’t be there at first. Do you mind missing it?”
He shrugged and shook his head.
“We’ll have an adventure.”
He didn’t react much. This was a boy who waited to see. “You have cousins.”
“I do?”
I nodded. “Some older, some younger.”
“I’ll meet them?”
I nodded again thinking of the birthday party I was going to give him. “Remember I told you about my animals.”
“Oh yeah.” He thought for a minute. “A dog?”
“Yep. A big, old, stinky golden retriever. And cats. And ducks.”
“I can see them all?”
“Of course. Guess what my dog’s name is.”
“I don’t know.”
“Red.”
He gasped. “Red’s my fav—”
We broke into a fit of giggles. When it faded, he said, “Mom will think this is okay?”
“I’m hoping she’ll come too.”
This was obviously too far-fetched for him to believe, but he grinned when he said, “Not really.”
“Maybe not. But I’ll try to convince her.”
I patted him again and got up to leave.
“Gama, you forgot to put in the new chip.”
***
The next day, I set to work researching the coding behind ReMemory. Once a techie, always a techie. I went searching for forums I hadn’t been near in years. There they were with the same clunky, old-fashioned formats and an astounding number of the same names; old Internet friends who were more than happy to help me hack into the program.
I ran a bunch of old memory chips through the vid, copying and pasting clips onto the comppad, constructing the most boring, generic memories I could find from Hayes’ life until I had almost enough for a full chip. I slipped an empty chip into the vid, dated it next in sequence before the one Hayes was currently wearing and filled it with the fabricated comppad memories.
By the time his school was out for a few weeks of summer, we were packed and ready to go. Hayes had asked no more questions about how much his mother knew or whether she was coming, but I owed him the truth.
“I haven’t told your mom that we’re going, Hayes,” I said that morning.
“You said you would.”
“I know, but that could backfire.”
“What do you mean?”
“She might fly home, hire another nanny, make me leave without you and life would go on as it was before I got here. I don’t want to take that risk. I hope you don’t either.”
He sat at the kitchen bar eating his cereal. He took several more bites before answering. I sweated out the long pause. “I want to go with you. But, are you kidnapping me?”
“Good question. Kind of. I guess. But your mom cares about both of us. I believe she finally let me into your lives because she knows she needs help and didn’t know how to get it any other way. I hope she’ll join us there, but she might just come and bring you right back here. I can’t stop her if that’s what she wants.”
He nodded, still chewing. “Okay. I want her to be like she was before she got the mic-implants.”
I stopped cleaning up the counter and turned to him. “The what?”
He looked guilty.
I walked over to him, pressed on his implant and took out his memory chip, putting it down on the counter. “It’s okay. I need to know.”
“She got implants. They’re like microphones in your ears so you don’t have to wear headphones.”
I breathed. “And since she got them…?”
He shrugged. “She’s been really weird.”
It took me a while, but I finally said, “I want her to be like she used to be too, buddy. So, we have to do one more thing to make this work. We’re going to record a fake memory on one of your chips. It’s called ‘acting.'”
He grinned.
***
We caught a shuttle flight, a high-speed train, and were met in the nearest little town, Macklins Corner, by my son—Miell’s older brother—the one who’d been taking care of my life here. He drove us to the house. Hayes, always quiet, withdrew even more the farther we got from the city.
I kept talking to him. “We’re going to see Red soon.” “Tomorrow you’ll meet your aunt and some of your cousins.” “Are you homesick?” But it wasn’t until I said, “We aren’t really farther from your mother here than we were at home, Hayes.”
He looked at me. “Do you have a vid?”
“No. Not like yours. But we have a computer and Internet. You’ll be able to see and talk to her, she’ll just be smaller. But remember when I said we needed a little time first?”
He nodded, but he looked scared.
I patted his leg. “When Mom can’t v-link to us, she’ll be worried, but eventually, she’ll think to look at the back-up of the last chip in your series and see the scene we acted out, right?”
“Yeah. Then she’ll think that we’ve gone to the national park for a camping trip and that’s why she can’t v-link with me for a while.”
“Right. She’ll be mad, but with me, not you.”
“That’s okay.”
I smiled at him. “She’ll try to contact me here, or if not, I’ll call her. Look!” I pointed out the front window.
Down the gravel drive, Red, his wavy, amber coat looking unnaturally clean and well-groomed, came running up to meet us.
***
It took longer than I expected for Miell to figure out what I’d done. I made myself unavailable online most of the time, but I had my call-in software set to record missed calls. We’d been there almost two weeks before she made her first attempt.
By that time, Hayes had met all of his extended family, knew how to take care of the chickens and ducks, had recovered from his first ever case of poison ivy and was beginning to tan.
I was ready. I set my status to “available” one morning and waited for the alert. When it came, Hayes was out swimming with his cousins.
“Mother.”
“Hi, Miell. As you see, I took matters into my own hands. I think that’s what you wanted…even if you’ll deny it.”
“You are at home? He’s with you?”
“Yes. He’s well.”
“Mother…Jesus, you faked the memory chip! Why? Why’d you go to so…to such lengths?”
Today she wasn’t wearing any make-up. I could more easily see the girl I raised even through her dulled eyes. My heart went out to her.
“His life was lousy.”
She winced.
“He’s in need of…many things. But,
we can agree that the most important thing he needs is his mother.”
She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t understand.”
“I do. I know about the binaural beats and the implants.”
She teared up. “You don’t know that I’m…trapped. I’m literally trapped.”
“By?”
“My brain.” She spat the words in a harsh whisper.
“Tell me.”
“I got the implants removed. That’s why I went away. My plan was to get them removed, come home, thank you, and have my life back. You wouldn’t have to be confronted with what a fuck-up I am.”
“So you got hooked on this stuff before the implants?”
“Oh god, yeah. For years. It changes your brain. I couldn’t sleep without The Beats. Then I couldn’t wake up without it. And the company knows exactly what they’re doing! They know. They hook you till you need more and then sell and insert the implants and, under the influence of it all, it seems like a good thing. You program it to put you to sleep or give you a high or stimulate you and no one’s the wiser because it doesn’t show. It’s piped into your brain 24/7!”
“Jesus, Miell.”
“I knew right away the implants were a mistake. I wanted the company to take them out, but they had me where they wanted me. They refused to download The Beats when I said I wanted the implants removed.”
“So how’d you…What did you do?”
“I had to go to a private doctor. They’re out now. But my brain is ruined.”
“No, no baby. It’ll get better.”
“I’m glad you took Hayes.”
I gulped hard. “Come here.”
She shook her head.
“You are one of the strongest people I have ever known. We’ll help you.”
“But…I’m no good to him. Kinda, you know, crazy right now.” She paused for a long time and then jumped at some noise. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be in touch.”
***
Strains of an off-key “Happy Birthday” had just finished. Hayes, standing by the dining room table surrounded by seven cousins, two new friends, and even more adults, was about to blow out his candles.
Twisted crêpe paper in multiple colors hung crisscrossed over the ceiling and windows. Paper streamers curled from the light fixture along with dozens of balloons. A piñata awaited us outside on the maple tree. Everyone had gone all out to throw this sweet, sad boy, the best party ever.
I made the cake, so it was a tottering affair, but Hayes’ artistic cousin saved the day by drawing a fine facsimile of IncrediBlaster’s upper body with red cape streaming over its lumpy surface.
Just before he blew out the candles, my calico cat jumped on the table and stuck a paw right into IncrediBlaster’s nose. Everyone reacted: screaming, yelling, waving, shooing, shouting, laughing, and then someone noticed the cat’s tail was on fire.
The flames were quickly extinguished, the cat was unharmed, and the chocolate cake was delicious.
Loud. Messy. Colorful. Giddy. Playful. Boisterous. Joyful. Unforgettable. A real birthday party.
Everyone moved outside and the kids were well into their mission to destroy the piñata when my attention was drawn by Red barking and running to the front of the house. I followed him.
A taxi sat in the drive. The back door opened and Miell stepped out into the bright sunshine. She held onto the open car door as if she might crawl back in and take off again.
“Mom,” she croaked.
I rushed over, found her wallet, paid the driver, put my arm around her waist and said, “I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life.” She crept along like a woman much older than me but she managed to squeeze my shoulder with her shaking hand.
“I’m taking you upstairs. We’re having a party for Hayes and there are too many people here for you to face right now.”
“A party? For Hayes?”
“I’ll explain later. What do we have to do to help get your brain healthy again?”
“Oh god, Mom, if I knew that, I’d…” We were half-way up the stairs. She turned and looked at me, the pain in her eyes palpable. “I need to be reminded of why…“
“Why you’re putting yourself through this?”
“Yeah. Like a hundred times a day. I’ll forget.”
***
I tucked both kids into bed that night.
Miell first. My son gave her a mild sedative from his medicine cabinet. She looked calm for now, lying in her old bed. “I’ve always been trouble.”
“You’re worth it.”
“One doctor suggested electroshock.”
“No. They still do that?”
Her shoulders rose and fell against the pillow. “Guess so. I decided coming here to the boonies might be a little more pleasant than that alternative. And being this far out in the country might serve as enough of a shock to my brain. It’s worth a shot.”
I smiled at her. She was broken, but not destroyed. “That part of you that’s ‘trouble?’ It’s your best part as well as your worst. Put that fierceness to work for you.”
“Easy, right?” she said, gripping the bed sheets. I stroked her hands and she relaxed them, closing her eyes.
I stayed with her until she drifted off.
Do I have the energy for this? The stamina, the reserves to deal with a six-year-old and an addicted daughter who’s always been trouble? I didn’t know. The only thing I was sure of is that this was going in the right direction.
I watched her sleep for a few minutes and then went to Hayes. He was in bed wearing his IncrediBlaster costume.
“You going to sleep in that?”
He nodded, dark eyes defying me to tell him ‘no.’ I sat on the bed. “What’d you think of your party?”
Our boy of few words struggled to find the right ones. Finally he said, “The best.” He squeezed me around the middle. “Ever.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Putting him to bed reminded me of our time in the city. “I guess I should check to see if your chip’s full.” I sighed. As I reached behind his ear, he pulled away. “What’s wrong?” I pressed on his implant, but didn’t feel the pop of the chip sliding out. “Turn around.”
He did.
The implant was empty.
I was confused. I left the chip out? No. The day we left the city, I put the real one back in after we recorded the camping scene on the phony chip.
“I took it out.”
“Hayes. When? Before your party?”
He nodded.
“But…I wanted to make you a happy memory and now…Why did you do that?”
He stuck his jaw out. “I knew it was going to be special. So, I wanted to keep it…private. Just for me. Is that okay?”
My breath caught in my throat. All I could do was nod.
“Don’t worry, Gama, I won’t ever forget it.”
He lay back, snuggling under the quilt.
My body plopped down on the bed. I reached out over him, feeling soft patchwork and his warm body, my mind holding on hard to this moment.
And Always, Murder(Short story)
by Nancy SM Waldman
AE: The Canadian Science Fiction Review
My caretakers in The Freevolution Habitat played Clue at night. I—Umberto, born an ordinary donkey—recovered from my surgeries and grew to self-awareness hearing the antics of Miss Scarlett and Professor Plum, ropes and conservatories, secret passageways and always, murder.
***
Sarelle—uplifted, sublime, blood bay horse and ex-love-of-my-life—came into my bar during the last set of the night. I lost all air. My mouth went dry, the reed stuck to my lip and Betsy, my clarinet, burbled inharmoniously for a moment or two.
I hadn't seen her for more than a decade. After she left me, I moved here to Tijuana and bought the bar. At least I had music, and, whether metaphor or cliché, border towns the world over are havens for our kind.
She sat at a front center table while I recovered and launched i
nto Sidney Bechet's blissful Blue Horizon. Her infinite eyes gleamed as she listened.
"I want babies," Sarelle had told me during the messy break-up, noting some factoid she'd just learned about horses and donkeys being unable to breed. That, of course, was a manshit excuse because uplifted animals are usually sterile.
And then, she went with Horace, an up-donk like me.
The three of us had come up together at the Hab and were friends in San Francisco when newly aware, when I—thrilled beyond all reason with the delicately capable fingers attached to new hands at the end of new arms—had learned to play.
I finished the set, but my pride wouldn't let me go to her. I sat down at the end of the bar near Al: bartender, buddy, barrister, biggest fan. I downed three shots in short order.
"Ease up," he said.
"I didn't ask to be uplifted."
His arm halted in mid-air. His scotch swayed on the rocks.
"No-one asks to be born, you ass."
Al is human. And a lawyer. I liked him anyway.
The only come-back I could think of was, "You didn't have to be 'born' twice, so shut the hell up."
"When have I ever shut up? So that's Sarelle?" He regarded her with undisguised appreciation.
"She's a horse, Al."
"Was. Was a horse. They did a nice job on her."
"You make her sound like a damned refurbished car."
"Umberto?"
Her voice entered my body, not through my ears, but my sternum. It swirled around my heart for a few seconds and then squeezed.
I stood and turned, feeling the tequila, swaying like Al's scotch.
"I need your help," she said.
"Hmm. Should've stopped that sentence before the 'er help'."
"Be serious. I'm in danger."
"And I'm drunk. You should have shown up earlier. Ten years ago would have been good." I saw white in her eyes as her head reared back. "Who's gonna hurt you?" I asked, melting at the sight of her distress.
"He's hurt me for years. I'm trying to get away."
That sobered me up. Putting my hand around her withers, I guided her to my office, and poured her a brandy. We sat on the couch.