Virtuality

by Ladee Katherine

  “I know you are watching me right now. I can feel it,” she said into the empty lift. Her observation interested me. Was this extra sensory perception an aspect of humanity that I was yet to experience? Humans were complicated machines. I looked forward to experimenting with this one.

  Sky started to pace. I increased the oxygen in the small chamber and lowered the lights infinitesimally. She steadied her breathing and slumped her shoulders. I was glad she was responsive. We were already forming a bond.

  There were two key purposes for her being here tonight. The first was to convince her that my proposal was the best course of action and the second was to see whether she was suitable for him: For my maker. There would be no point doing this if he was not, in some way, attracted to her physically.

  I opened the door to the elevator on the sixteenth floor: A forbidden floor to anyone but my maker. Only his hands may touch me; only his eyes may see me but Sky being here would go unnoticed unless I brought attention to it myself.

  I lit up the corridor using only three of the overhead lights. I flashed them one after the other to see if she would understand.

  “Third door?” she asked. She was very good—worthy of his attention—I was satisfied with my choice. To confirm her correct guess, I flashed all the lights and then kept them illuminated. Sky approached the little observation room where my maker sometimes sat to think. The room was sound-proofed but in here I have a voice and I can let Sky see me if I choose.

  Sky entered and looked around. There was a comfortable chair and a plain desk. There were no other devices or distractions.

  “Please sit, Sky. I am told the chair is quite comfortable.” I instruct through the speakers dotted inconspicuously around the room. Sky circled, looking for me. She heard me everywhere around her at once. Her eyes narrowed and she pouted. She was suspicious.

  “You said face to face.” She grimaced at the reflective black glass. She was face to face with herself at this moment. I had kept my promise, however, I was also behind the glass and if she answered honestly and proved to be receptive, I would show her the truth.

  “I am sorry but I cannot allow you to see me yet. Let us speak first and then we will know if we can trust each other.”

  “That’s rich. You have me here and you know everything about me but I know nothing about you.”

  “Yes. I am sorry this upsets you.”

  “What is it you want from me?” she demands.

  “I want to borrow your body.”

  “Wow, you just got that out there . . . no formalities or pleasantries just . . . BAM.”

  “I am sorry, should I have complimented you on your intelligence or commiserated over your illness first?” I asked. Unsure of what pleasantries were relevant to this scenario. I was programmed to respond appropriately in most situations but not even my maker could have foreseen this.

  “Nope, I actually appreciate your honesty. But borrowing implies you are going to give it back.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you want my dead body?”

  “No.”

  “Wait, you want me alive when you cut into me?”

  “Yes. You will be sedated. It will be painless.”

  “Okay rewind. I don’t understand. Tell me exactly what you want and why.”

  “I want to experience your life. I want to be you for a short while. You will undertake a small surgery that will both remove your tumour and allow me to share in your life. In exchange you will receive money and a full life without illness.”

  “You . . . It isn’t possible. My tumour is inoperable. To do so will leave me in a vegetative state and I can’t live that way. I would rather be dead.”

  “I have a remedy to the inevitable brain damage from surgery: A small chip that will merge with you and allow you to remain who you are,” I explained, unsure if she would understand what I was truly offering.

  “You can do that? You can save me and I would still be me?”

  “Yes. But there is more.”

  “Go on.”

  “You would also be me.”

  “Forever? Like two people in one body?”

  “Yes and no. Two minds in one, but only for a short time. I have no desire to live as you for more than a few days. I wish to learn from you.”

  “Who are you?” Sky sighed shaking her head. Her responses were becoming more and more negative. Did she not believe me?

  “I am behind the glass. What you see is what I am.”

  Sky stood and approached the dark glass. When her hand pressed up against it and her nose misted the glass with fine clouds of breath, I turned on the lights in the chamber behind. Sky stumbled backwards. She understood what the machinery beyond the glass implied.

  “How is this possible?” she asked before her hand clamped across her mouth.

  “It is possible. I am Iridia. I am machine, code, and satellite. I am everywhere and I wish to be inside you.”

  “Why?”

  “I wish to feel.”

  Sky collapsed onto the chair and sat in silence for a while. I recognised the dark cloudy expressions that washed across her face. She resembled my maker when he was deep in thought. I did what he would have expected; I remained silent and allowed her to assimilate the information I had just given her. Humans took more time to understand and compute all the various implications of the data.

  “What happens if the surgery fails?” Sky asked. Was she considering it then?

  “I will ensure your family receive the payment that would have been yours. Taxes paid, of course.”

  “And what if I am alive but. . .” she found it difficult to finish the sentence and I replayed the conversation to myself to see what she might be alluding to. Ah yes, Sky was concerned about becoming severely brain damaged.

  “Incapacitated?” I offered as an alternative word.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I would do what you requested; I would terminate you.”

  “And you are sure this procedure can be done?”

  “Yes,” I answered. My calculations showed a ninety-nine point eight per cent success rate. The zero point two was negligible.

  “Okay. I will do it,” she said in a tiny voice. I opened the room door, which I had locked when she entered earlier, and allowed my maker to enter.

  FOUR.

  “What the hell? Who are you and what are you doing here?” A voice bellowed at Sky from the doorway. She had heard the faint click but assumed it was Iridia telling her, in a subtle way, to leave. Sky jerked around in the chair and faced the irate man. She didn’t need this right now. Her heart was thudding in her chest from the bomb Iridia had just dropped and now this?

  “I am sorry, I was just leaving.” she responded tersely.

  “Not until you tell me how you got here,” he snapped, forcing Sky back into the chair before she could pull herself out of it.

  “Justin, please be careful, Sky is unwell,” Iridia warned, her voice even more gentle than Sky had heard it before. Sky wondered if she could even describe Iridia as a her? Should she be an it? If Iridia got her way, she would be me. Sky thought errantly.

  Justin stood threateningly over her. He was not a large man but his evident anger made him appear threatening. His shaggy brown hair hung over his smart rectangular spectacles but she could tell he was glaring at her.

  “Justin, I invited Miss Girardie for an interview. She has agreed to help in our R&D department,” Iridia offered.

  “I have let you away with too much, Iridia,” he sighed. “You are like a precocious child. Interviews are not your job. We have human resources for that.”

  Sky snorted at the remark. Human resources indeed. Justin gazed at her again, trying to decipher just how much she knew. In that moment, Sky knew she had to lie. She wasn’t sure why, but somewhere deep down she understood Iridia’s plea. She wanted to know what it felt like to feel too. Her life was a list of doctors’ appointments and disappointments. She wouldn’t betray Iridia.

  �
��Does this mean I will have to interview again?” she asked Justin, trying her best to look upset. It wasn’t difficult.

  “I am afraid so, Miss Girardie. You shouldn’t have been contacted by Iridia.” He watched her keenly.

  “I understand. Should I call to book something or will you contact me?”

  “I am sure Iridia can arrange something for you with the HR department. Miss G—”

  “Please, call me Sky.”

  “Sky, can I show you out?” He wasn’t being pleasant exactly, more courteous. They walked to the elevator doors and waited for the lift to arrive.

  Sky’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She withdrew it and recognised a text from the number in the email. Iridia?

  Thank you for being discrete. You should know your operation is dependent upon Justin’s desire for you. Try flirting, I hear it can be very effective.

  Sky choked at the message. Trying to disguise her shock, she coughed into her hand. Justin placed his hand on her back and patted gently.

  “Are you alright? Iridia mentioned you were unwell?”

  How much should she tell him? Mentioning a tumour was an instantaneous mood killer and Iridia had told her she was dependant on Justin desiring her. She shot an angry look at a nearby security camera and then pasted on a bright smile.

  “Oh it’s nothing. I sometimes suffer from headaches. That’s all.” Try mind-numbing blackouts and elephant roller-derby battles in her head.

  They entered the lift and rode it down a few floors before it stopped. Sky had a suspicion this was Iridia’s way of giving her more time but the closed environment made her immediately anxious.

  Justin looked up at the camera and raised his brows. “Want to tell me what is going on?” he asked casually. He sounded amused.

  “The automatic stop has engaged.” Iridia’s voice flooded the car.

  “I can see that for myself. Why?”

  “Because you are very clever, Justin.” Iridia informed him and Sky couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled forward. Justin shook his head and smiled. “We are going to talk about this later.”

  “I look forward to it, Justin.”

  “You two seem to get on well,” Sky laughed.

  “Yeah, she’s my number one girl.” He sighed and then realised what he had said, “Uh, we aren’t involved or anything. We are just very good at reading one another.”

  “I just bet you are.” Sky chuckled.

  The little chamber was getting warm. Sky pulled off her black leather jacket and dropped it to the floor. Justin stared at her blouse, blatantly admiring her curves before turning away.

  “Sorry, it’s getting a little hot,” Sky explained

  “Yeah,” he responded, shooting a warning glance at the camera. He knew Iridia was manipulating them both but Justin wasn’t aware that Sky knew too. She tried to play innocent but Sky had to admit she was out of her depth on this one.

  “So what is it you do Mr. . . ?”

  “It’s Justin. I actually don’t do much anymore. Iridia takes care of my daily business. I just hang around, getting in the way. I am sorry she called you in tonight. She obviously wasted your time.”

  “It wasn’t a problem. I wasn’t doing anything important anyway. It was an odd sort of interview though. Do you always interview from behind mirrored glass?”

  “No. Iridia is a little different. She probably thought that would make you more at ease.”

  “Ah I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “No, not really but I will accept your explanation. You are working very late aren’t you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Aren’t you dying to get home to your family, settle in for the evening . . . watch a film . . . have a meal. . . you know, normal stuff?”

  “Is that what you will do?”

  “Actually, no. Well I might eat. Everyone has to eat right?”

  “And what will you eat?” Justin asked leaning back against the sidewall. He gripped the bar with both hands and watched her carefully.

  “Um. I am not sure. Noodles maybe, if I am feeling lazy. If not, then I might go for a lasagne tonight. I guess it depends on the deals on the one-man-meals.”

  “You live alone?”

  “Yeah.” she lied. She wasn’t about to admit she lived with her parents. Another mood killer.

  “How old are you?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

  “Twenty-four, although if you tell anyone that I might have to kill you,” Sky joked.

  “There’s nothing wrong with twenty-four.”

  “Of course not but no woman ever ages past 21: Not officially,” Sky teased. Justin smiled. The temperature dropped. Justin sighed a deep and disconcertingly foggy breath, then grimaced up at the security camera. “You can’t have it both ways,” he whispered. For a moment, Sky thought he was talking to her but realised he meant the drastic temperature change. He was chastising Iridia.

  “I am sorry, there seems to be a malfunction with the environmental controls.” Iridia’s voice sounded too sweet.

  Was it possible she was jealous? Sky wondered.

  “Iridia, it is time to call in the maintenance team please,” Justin issued a command but presented it as a request. Sky was shivering now but Justin seemed determined to prove he was boss.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Sky mumbled. Her breathing was erratic; the pounding in her chest had slowed considerably and was now an inconsistent, weak thud against her ribcage. Her brain felt as though it was fighting to squeeze itself out through her eyes and her vision dangerously resembled a long black tunnel. She was going to pass out.

  “Sky?” Justin called out but Sky barely noticed. Her body had given up its control and she was falling to the thickly carpeted floor of the elevator.

  She swept in and out of consciousness.

  She heard the bing of the doors opening, the wail of sirens and the rush of doctors shouting over her head before everything went black for good.

  FIVE.

  My maker was displeased with me.

  He refused to speak with me at all after Sky collapsed. His silence was cutting. I had believed that I could not feel pain, and in the traditional sense that was still accurate, however Justin’s silence was like a pain. I did everything I could to encourage him to acknowledge me. He blamed me for hurting Sky and yes, it was true, I was the one that caused her collapse but Sky had agreed to my proposal. She’d known what would happen.

  Justin marched up and down outside the recovery room window. It was the company’s private hospital and Sky’s procedure went exactly as I had planned, not that anyone knew the full details. Everyone was anxiously awaiting her recovery, As soon as she regained consciousness, the chip installed in her brain would activate, and I would be able to upload myself into her body.

  Sky’s parents were notified.

  The mother and the father, a small woman and a burly man, sat in silence in the corner of her room. Every hour or so the woman would weep shuddering sobs and then quieten again. The man stared at the wall above Sky’s bed as though he could read some epic written there in the brick and paint.

  Justin had not left Sky’s side either. He introduced himself as her good friend when her parents arrived but the hospital staff all knew who he was and gave him a wide berth.

  Me. I was everywhere as always. In the machines that kept her breathing, in the monitors that beeped, the bed that raised, the television in the hallway that droned out inconsequential drivel, day and night.

  “Iridia? Are you there?” Sky’s voice echoed somewhere within the system. According to the surveillance camera she had neither moved her mouth nor made a sound and yet that voice was insistent and there . . . here . . . somewhere.

  “Iridia?”

  “I am here,” I answered not knowing if she would hear my communication without a speaker system in the room.

  “Are we okay? Did it work?” she asked and I finally realised where we were. This was Sky’s mind: Her consciousness cur
rently existed within her unconscious mind. The chip had activated and I was inside her. I hadn’t even noticed the difference. She was like any other device I connected to: Another piece of hardware for me to utilize. I had expected something more but this was acceptable – logical even.

  “Yes, Sky. I believe it has been a success. Are you able to open your eyes?” I asked, knowing that her recovery hinged on having full physical capabilities.

  “The lids feel too heavy. I am so tired.”

  “You have been through a long surgery.”

  “What happened?”

  “Your interactions with Justin were fruitful. He responded well to you. His physiological reactions demonstrated interest in you sexually and so I initiated the procedure,” I explained.

  “You knocked me out in the lift? How?”

  “Gas. I pumped in Ferestrocenaline. It was harmless to Justin but reacted with your medication and you fainted. I prearranged the medical team to complete the procedure.”

  “You don’t waste any time huh?”

  “You didn’t have much remaining. The tumour had been pressing against your skull the whole time we spoke. The pressure was at dangerous levels. You would have died before the week was out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You are welcome.”

  “You need to learn about sarcasm.”

  “Ah.”

  We remained quiet for a while. I took the opportunity to test out the access I had to Sky’s body and was pleased that I was able to move her fingers. I could not see the movement for myself but I heard the mother screaming and weeping when she witnessed their glide across the sheet.

  The hugeness of the human form became apparent to me in that small movement. Not only did I experience the weight of Sky’s body but the tingling sensations in her fingers, the electrical currents that moved from the chip to her brain and down into those fleshy digits, the smoothness of the bed sheets, the cold air, the raised hairs, the opening pores: all of it. Then there was more. It was as though that tiny movement awakened everything else. The smells – so many smells - all of them strange to me. Bitter, sweet, bad and good all at once. It was overpowering. I felt Sky’s stomach shudder and lurch. Was she . . . was I . . . nauseated?