“You mean am I okay with dying?” He stares up at the sun for a second before lowering his eyes back to mine. “I can’t remember the last time I felt anything. The warmth of the sun, the wind on my skin, someone’s hand in mine.” He says it like losing human touch has been the worst kind of torture.
“Then let’s do this.”
Grant looks back up, a wide smile on his face. “Hey, did you hear the one about the alligator and the barn owl?”
I jerk open my truck door. “Shut up now and I’ll consider not programming your mouth shut.”
“Deal.” Grant climbs up into my truck, and I follow him in, slamming the metal door shut behind us. “To the bat cave.”
“Pushing it.” I throw the truck into gear and head toward VALR, home of what will be my greatest hack ever.
C:>THIRTEEN.exe
Viv, what a pleasant surprise.” Dr. Spencer holds open the door to her office for me, and I pause just long enough for Grant to ghost in first. “I didn’t expect to see you again until next week.”
Grant rolls his eyes at me. “That woman gives me the creeps.”
I can’t talk to him, but I try to ask him my question with narrowed eyes and a slight tip of my head.
“She’s been helping controllers for decades.” He uses air quotes around the word helping. “She was here when I was the controller, and sixteen years later, she’s still just as fake.”
He’s not wrong, but how much reality can we expect from a computer program?
“What can I help you with today?” Dr. Spencer stands right behind me, confirming her creep factor.
I glance around the room, grasping for the words to the fake apology I need to make. “I wanted to talk to you about something important.”
Dr. Spencer smiles warmly at me, with a hint of knowing tucked into the corner of her lips. It’s like she knew this was coming. She gestures to the same oversized chair I sat in yesterday. “Why don’t you sit and we can talk about anything you want.”
I plant myself on the edge of the chair, and Grant perches on the arm. It’s strangely comforting to have him here. That’s a new sensation for me, and I’m not sure if I’m happy about it. I’ve never needed anyone before, so what’s the point of starting now that I’m on the fast track to peacing out of here?
“I wanted to say I’m…I’m sorry about the way I acted yesterday.”
Dr. Spencer’s smile transforms into full on, that’s-what-I-thought mode. “Viv, you don’t need to apologize. Do you think you’re the first patient to come in here and shut me out? You’re not.”
Grant snorts. “For as long as she’s been peddling her creepy lies, you can’t possibly be the first to do anything.”
I refrain from elbowing him. Not that he’d feel it, but it might look weird to jab my arm into thin air in front of Dr. Spencer.
She leans back in her own chair, clasping her hands in front of her “While your circumstances are certainly unique, your emotions are not. I would be more concerned if you had come in here singing sunshine and rainbows.”
I stare at her smile, and I’m instantly reminded that she isn’t real. None of this is. Not the fancy chairs or crystal clear glass walls, and certainly not the too-white toothy smile she’s giving me. I picture myself inside of a sim game someone else set up. I have to play by their parameters, at least for now. It makes it easier, like picking my next line of dialogue from a multiple choice menu.
“Thank you for understanding. I really appreciate that.”
I say a line, and now she says a line.
“Of course. Was there anything else you’d like to talk about today? I have some free time in my calendar, and I want you to know I’m here for you whenever you need me.”
Grant fidgets next to me while I think about my next words. I need to pick the ones that keep her helping me and figure out what not to say for her to kick me out.
“Yesterday, you were talking about deciding how I wanted to live. That life goes on regardless of how long I choose to suffer.”
“Those weren’t quite my words, but go on.”
I wet my lips and struggle to bring moisture to the desert taking up camp in my mouth. “I was thinking that I don’t want to waste the time I’ve gotten back. I want to do something valuable, give back.”
The ridiculous smile is back. “That’s wonderful, Viv. I’d love to brainstorm some ways that you can find meaning in your new world.”
In my new fake world. “Actually, I kinda already have an idea.”
Dr. Spencer’s eyebrows lift just a fraction of a millimeter, but she keeps the same overjoyed smile plastered on her face. “Would you like to tell me about it?”
I glance away and resist the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. Everything about this woman is making me feel ill. I can’t force myself to forget that she’s not real. “VALR has done so much for me, and I want to give back to them. Maybe help them save more people.” I take a steadying breath and focus on a spot just above her right ear so I don’t have to stare into her perfectly poised face. “I’m not a doctor or anything, but I thought I might be able to help with the computer network. Maybe work on making the database easier to manipulate so the doctors can analyze faster.”
Dr. Spencer claps her hands together once and stands to walk behind her desk. “Viv, that sounds wonderful. Dr. Brooks was just telling me the other day that technology is moving faster than the program can keep up.” She scribbles something down on a sheet of paper. “I’ll talk to him this afternoon and see if we can’t get you set up.”
“Wow, that would be fantastic.” The words are out before I have to chance to evaluate if they were the right ones. The truth is I’m a little excited. I’ve always managed to cobble together a workable system at home, but the newest tech was always light years outside of my budget. A job here would mean access to the latest and greatest that modern technology has to offer. I’ll get to put fingers to systems I never even dreamed of working on.
“Maybe we can bring you on as an intern until we can find a more suitable permanent position.”
And just like that, the warm fuzzies disappear. Because I know exactly what she means by permanent position. Either integrate and become their AI or turn into a Remnant and lose my consciousness to who knows where.
“Why don’t you come back tomorrow morning? I’m sure by then we can have something worked out for you. Dr. Brooks will be so pleased to hear you want to join his team.”
My stomach drops a little further.
Dr. Spencer holds the door open, and Grant and I leave the same way we came in. Through the glass walls, I watch her rush back to her desk and jump on the phone. Probably to call Dr. Brooks and let him know that I’m giving in to the programming.
Grant is silent beside me as we make our way down to the lobby. More glass-walled offices fill the hallway where people I don’t know are busy inside, doing who knows what. The carpet under my feet is plush and immaculate, and the walls are decorated with framed ocean scenes and still life paintings I would expect to find in office buildings across the country.
Everything about this place feels so real. It would be nothing to give myself over to it and just pretend that this is reality. But then I picture my body on the security monitor, lying lifeless in the sterile bed, my mother pushing wisps of dark hair off my forehead. That’s my reality, and I can’t ever forget it.
Outside the building, Grant is still unusually silent.
“You okay there, Bozo?”
Grant gives me a small smile. “Classic. Are you sure you’re not ninety-five?”
“Wow, you really do have all the jokes.”
A comfortable silence hangs between us while we stand in the parking lot and watch the sun make its slow descent toward the horizon. I’m not sure if the days are shorter here in this twisted plane of existence, or if my brain is trying to slow down the minutes, knowing each one is counting me closer to death.
“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Gr
ant’s voice is low and reverent, like he can’t quite believe them himself.
“You still want to, right?”
Grant turns, his face covered in emotions. “Yes.” He swallows. “It’s just…no one has ever believed me before. Or maybe they did believe me and just didn’t care. You have no idea how many controllers I’ve tried to talk to. How many I’ve asked to help. You’re the first and…it’s so nice to not be alone. Thanks.”
I nod, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Alone is how I’ve always done everything. Well, almost alone. Mama is a constant in my life, but I’ve never done the friend thing. Never had someone else counting on me. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“You can always go with ‘you’re welcome.’”
“Right.” I nod again. “You’re welcome.”
Grant chuckles under his breath. “Wow, you’re really pretty bad at this, aren’t you…”
“Yeah, well, when you spend your childhood floating from one hospital room to another, it’s hard to make friends. And since the people you meet are all as sick as you, there’s a good chance they’ll all die on you. I learned a while ago it’s easier to stick to myself.”
“You really are just a never ending beam of sunshine aren’t you?”
“Was it my dazzling smile or winning personality that gave it away?”
Grant laughs again, shaking his head slowly. “Alright then, Butterfly. I’ll leave you for the night, but I intend to win you over before we pull the plug on this puppet show.”
I walk to my truck and turn to see Grant standing at the end of the parking lot. I call out over the still evening air. “Good luck with that.”
It comes out in my default sarcastic tone, but for the first time, I might actually mean it.
C:>FOURTEEN.exe
Wake up, mija.” The lights in my room flick on, washing away the darkness and bathing the room in too bright artificial light. Mama stands over my bed, a strained smile stretched across her face. “Time to get up.”
I sit up, instantly awake despite my previously confirmed night owl status. “What is it?”
“Dr. Spencer called this morning and said she had everything worked out for you to start an internship this morning.” Mama floats around the room, pulling back the curtain and straightening the edge of my already perfectly straight bed sheet. “I’m so proud of you, mija.”
My instinct is to hug her and bask in her praise. There have been so few opportunities for me to do something that makes Mama truly proud. Not when there were times when my biggest accomplishment was getting out of bed and fighting through the chemo nausea enough to eat a piece of toast. But I don’t get up. I don’t run to her. I don’t hug her.
This isn’t my mother, no matter how much she looks, sounds, and smells like her. Instead I nod and rush for the bathroom. Ten minutes later I’m out the door and making my way toward my new fake internship.
I pull into a spot toward the front of the VALR building and scan the parking lot. No sign of Grant, but I know he has to be somewhere close by. He doesn’t have a choice in the matter. I finally almost have a friend, but only because the wizard behind the curtain won’t let him get further than a quarter of a mile away.
I sit for a while in the cab of my beat-up truck, drinking the coffee Mama forced on me as I hurried out the door this morning. She wanted to make me a huge breakfast, but I didn’t think I could stomach that much sawdust-flavored food in one sitting. Coffee is still the only thing that has any taste at all. I don’t understand why, but I’m not about to question it. Bitter bean water is much better than pasty mush.
Still no Grant sighting by the time the cup is empty and the parking lot is full of black sedans. I kick myself for waiting around for him. Since when did I need a sidekick? I shove open the creaking door. No time like the present to end the world.
I slide my bag over my shoulder and slide out of the cab, allowing myself a few seconds to pretend that this is all real. That I’m really alive, just getting out of my dad’s old, unreliable truck, headed to my first real job because I’m not stuck tossing my cookies inside a smelly hospital room. I let the thoughts fill me up and warm me in a way the coffee could never achieve. Then I close the truck door and firmly plant my feet in reality. Or at least, virtual reality.
“Hey there.”
I spin toward a deep voice to my right, expecting Grant, but it’s not him. A tall blond guy waves at me from a bench near the front door. He’s about my age. A lingering familiarity tickles my forehead. Did we go to school together? I haven’t been to class in ages. Not since we knew the cancer was eating my future and any reason for continuing my education. I squint against the sun and stare into his smiling face. That’s when it hits me. This is the same boy I almost ran into the other day leaving the coffee shop. I take my time walking over to him.
“Hi, I’m Adam. Would you like to sit?”
“No.” I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t really intend to be friendly either. He smiles lazily up at me, and I’m immediately struck with the feeling that this is a guy for whom the world is one big playground. Someone who, in their short life, has never known disappointment. It’s not his fault, I guess, but I’m still allowed to hold it against him.
“So you’re the new controller.”
My head snaps to attention. Another ghost. So much for keeping their distance. I take a second to really get a look at him. This close I can tell he’s older, maybe twenty-five, though I’m not a good judge of age. It’s not polite, but I can’t help but wonder what brought him to the VALR program.
“Brain tumor,” he answered; the question must have been on my face. He shrugs. “Every new controller wants to know.”
I nod by way of a response, already itching to be done with this conversation so I can go inside and set my fingers on a keyboard. One ghost acquaintance is enough for me.
“Look, you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but I saw you hanging out with Grant the other day. I figured I should warn you that the guy’s a pathological liar.”
“Really? So this isn’t all a simulated virtual reality, and I’m not dying somewhere in the real world version of this building?”
Adam smirks up at me, his eyes squinting in the overly bright morning sunshine. “That part is perfectly true. But the part about us all turning into mindless Remnants is a load of bullshit.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Someone really should have told that to the Remnants, don’t you think?”
Adam stands, his hands held in front of him in surrender. “Look, I’m not asking you to take my word for it. I suggest doing a little research. Go look up the first VALR participants. I’m guessing you’ll recognize them among the Remnants. The rest of us are here, still functioning, because the program improved with each trial. It keeps getting better each time. Who knows, maybe you’ll be the one to finally get it to work.”
Now it’s my turn to smirk.
“I’m just saying look it up. Look me up. I’ve been here for a while, and I’m perfectly fine. We aren’t going to turn into Remnants, and Grant only wants you to believe that because of his own issues. You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
“Wow, whatever would I do without a member of the patriarchy here to help guide my innocent female brain into the light. You’re like my own personal Obi Wan.”
Adam shrugs. “It’s your afterlife, controller.” He walks away into the parking lot sea of black sedans. Ignoring him the best I can, I fling open the door to the VALR building a little too forcefully; the door flies back and vibrates against the frame. The same security guard from the other night looks up at me, smiling.
Why is there so much smiling in this VR? It’s certainly not what I would have designed. I give him my best fake smile and walk toward the front desk, trying to forget Adam’s words of warning. But he and I both know I won’t be able to forget them.
C:>FIFTEEN.exe
I expected a boring orientation session this morning,
and that’s exactly what I got. Maybe I should have expected a rave instead. But it’s finally over, and Dr. Spencer leads me up to the third floor where Grant and I hacked the security feeds.
“Viv, this is Samuel.” She gestures to a red-faced, middle-aged man with a good sized paunch and a serious comb over. “He’s going to be your intern supervisor, so I expect you to give him the same respect you afford to me or Dr. Brooks.”
“Of course.” I flash Dr. Spencer the plastered smile I’m beginning to perfect. It’s easy to make promises when I know none of this is real and there aren’t any consequences they can threaten me with. When I’m trying to delete my own consciousness from existence, the verbal reprimand outlined in this morning’s training session doesn’t carry the same weight.
Dr. Spencer gives my shoulder a little squeeze before she heads back to the elevator and leaves me with Samuel.
“Right.” Samuel motions to the empty chair in the workstation behind him and rolls another one over for himself. “So Dr. Spencer told me you’re more of a hardware girl. She said you can do maintenance and upgrade-type work.”
I nod. She told him that because that’s what I told her, Dr. Brooks, and every other white coat I talked to in the last six months. I never told anyone about my hacking hobbies. It wasn’t relevant when VALR was putting me through the never-ending rotation of interviews. I’m sure they asked Mama, but she doesn’t really know what I do. I told the home evaluator that my computer setup was for gaming. Which wasn’t a direct lie. Hacking is a game to me. A game I prefer to keep private.
“What about software installs?”
“Sure.”
Samuel’s eyes light up. “Perfect. We’re about to start a major operating system overhaul in the whole building. We’ve got a brand new proprietary OS that we’ve been working on for years. It’s just about ready, so we’re installing it on a few beta testers to work out the kinks.”
Ghost Code Page 7