[Name withheld]
Gender: Male
Age range: [unavailable]
Orientation: [unavailable]
Relationship status:
Couple/Monogamous
[Name withheld] is in a
relationship with Larissa Brady
Nick had been walking up the stairs at the time, and stopped so suddenly he lost his footing, almost performing what Larissa would have called a ‘catspraddle’ had he not grabbed the banister just in time.
He stared at his autophone, not sure what to disbelieve first. The fact that whoever owned this profile had somehow managed to conceal his name, or the fact that this new friend of his was…
…in a relationship with Larissa Brady.
Almost dropping the phone, all fingers and thumbs, Nick had pulled up Larissa’s profile. His heart was galloping. Had she… were they still…
Relationship status:
Married/Monogamous
Larissa Brady is married to
Nick Brady
Yes, thank God, his wife was still his wife. He almost laughed at the idea that she might have divorced him in the ten minutes since she had gone upstairs to change the bathroom towels.
So who was this moron claiming to be in a relationship with her? Nick went to take a closer look at his profile –
And found it was gone. The number of people in his Circle was 2,221. He’d been unfriended.
Why? Had Nick’s auto changed its mind and deleted the request? That did occasionally happen, when an auto reviewed someone’s timeline in detail and discovered something incompatible. Or had the mystery man changed his own privacy settings to block Nick completely?
Digging into his own auto’s records, Nick found no trace of the original friend request. Which meant it had been properly redacted.
No chance of ever seeing that again. The ‘right to redact’, to permanently delete data about yourself from across the entire internet, is a key part of the International Internet Regulations. It was one of the main reasons why the IIR laws were accepted by so many countries, since it gives people the chance to undo many of their mistakes. A lot of initial resistance to the laws melted away once people started realising how useful redacting their blunders could be.
Nick had sunk down awkwardly on the stairs. It wasn’t going in his head. Someone in Larissa’s Circle was claiming to be in a relationship with her. Even though she was still married to Nick. How? Nobody could have two relationships, the auto settings just didn’t allow for it! And it meant Larissa had... that she was...
“This is bollocks,” Nick had said to himself. His voice had been so weak that even he wasn’t convinced. But surely it had to be nothing. Mistake of some sort. Someone’s auto had messed up (couldn’t be his, it was an Apple Hydra, state of the art), someone’s ancient, buggy, out of date auto had glitched. Had to be nothing. Mistake of some sort.
For half the night, Nick had lain there next to a fast-asleep Larissa, running this mantra round and round in his head. Had to be nothing. Mistake of some sort.
But... it had been a weird few months. Larissa had a windfall at the start of the year, and told Nick they could now afford to look round for a proper house. But when he asked how much money she had, or where it had come from, she’d told him not to worry about it, it was a family thing. He insisted on knowing, and Larissa had blown up at him, suddenly upset. Surely it wasn’t weird to ask why your own wife had suddenly come into money?
Why was she refusing to tell him? What was she hiding?
Since then, Larissa had become distant, almost formal, not her usual extravagant self. They’d co-existed, running through all the usual routines, making plans and arrangements... but without her touches, her kisses, her contagious laugh. Nick had put it down to the stress of moving home, and ignored it. He’d done what he always does, and let it go.
Now that the auto of her lover and his own auto had noticed their connection, however, it was impossible to let go.
Sitting on the edge of the bed with autophone in hand and party getting noisier downstairs, Nick examines his Circles. The main public one. The inner Circle of people he’s close to. The outer Circle of acquaintances and autoed friends. The subCircles for work and Uni and family. The microCircles for those sharing his interests. He looks at all his ‘Venn Friends’, as some people call them: the way they intersect, the connections between people. And for the first time, realises just how many he’s never met face to face.
He has 2,235 friends. 643 of whom are in London. 66% of those are male. 88% are straight. 95% are aged between 20 and 50. Which makes 350 potentially suitable men. All invited to the anniversary party, even though Nick’s only met about a quarter of them in person.
Three hundred and fifty men, who could be sleeping with Larissa behind his back.
Christ, who the hell would do that? Who would have an affair with a married woman and then turn up at her anniversary party?
Nick folds his autophone away, stands up. He tries to breathe in deeply, finding it difficult. His chest aches around the cold stone of anger lodged inside.
The party’s getting louder beneath his feet. He knows he should go back down. Larissa will be playing host by herself, he should really join her.
He hates himself for thinking: I can keep a closer eye on her that way.
Nick walks out of the bedroom, party sounds rolling over him. He’s so used to the emptiness of their new house that it seems odd to have it filled with noise. Many of the upper rooms are still a mess, undecorated or piled with boxes from their old place in Ealing Broadway. Not that they brought much with them – Larissa was keen to go minimal, and leave the clutter behind. It had caused pangs to get rid of his DVD and Blu-ray collection, very similar to how he’d felt when he left home twenty years ago, throwing away all his vinyl records, cassettes and video tapes. Dead media. He couldn’t bear to lose his HVD discs, some of which have holographic cover designs, or play the movie theme tune when you pick them up – very cool! But otherwise it had all gone. Not much point storing movies and TV shows any more, now that everything is downloaded directly to you.
He realises he misses that new-house emptiness. Right now he would rather all these people just buggered off and left him alone. Or maybe he could just walk out the door. But he knows he can’t do that. He’s trapped inside his own home.
For the next hour or so, Nick forces himself to be friendly, sociable and welcoming. Looking at every man’s face and wondering if they are [Name withheld]. While the stone in his chest grows into a rock.
He starts wishing they’d just had another virtual party, like the one for his 40th birthday. So much easier to deal with. Since it had proved impossible to find a gap in everyone’s calendars to meet, Nick had celebrated online. He set up a sim-room, where guests’ autos could generate lifelike simulations of themselves, using their photos and stats. And there everyone was, drinking, dancing, talking, snogging, diving into the five-metre high chocolate fountain, riding dragons, piloting spaceships, shifting into were-forms, and whatever other fantasy animations they wanted to import. Much more convenient for everyone, since if they were busy their autos attended on their behalf, saying what they’d normally say, doing what they’d normally do. Nick still wasn’t sure how many of his friends were actually there. He’d invited every single one of them from around the world, since distance wasn’t an issue.
He’d even considered inviting Beauty.
Madness. Far too risky. True, nobody would have known, but just one slip of the tongue, and... no, madness. He feels guilty, shoves the memory away.
For their anniversary, Larissa had insisted they host the party for real. Which at least meant Nick wouldn’t have to put up with the autos of her family back in Trinidad, who could be a handful. A lot of them hadn’t approved of Larissa leaving the country and emigrating to the UK. Over the years their politeness towards him has turned into frostiness and, occasionally, a poisonous comment.
Larissa’s gra
ndpappy, Teddy Caballero, is a particular pain in the arse, frankly. Even though he’s been dead for years. His auto is still running, and has done nothing but badger both of them about giving him grandchildren. ‘Badger’ being a polite word for ‘viciously demand’, as well as ‘accuse Nick of not being a real man’.
Nick had blocked him, and half of the Caballero family, a long time ago. But it still hurts, knowing what they all think. That he isn’t good enough for Larissa.
If he was, then maybe she wouldn’t have...
The music changes to the classic sound of White Wedding – Dark Divorce Mix (Sextophonic vs Fiddly Kidders 2011 Porch Vocal) , and Nick heads towards the front door, knowing who’s arrived even before he checks the smartscreen on the wall.
10.15pm Saturday 28 May 2022
House visitor: 118
Leo Travis
Gender: Male
Age range: 36-40
Orientation: Straight
Relationship status:
Married/Monogamous
House visitor: 119
Diane Travis
Gender: Female
Age range: 26-30
Orientation: Straight
Relationship status:
Married/Monogamous
“Couldn’t you afford a proper house, then?” remarks Leo as he shakes Nick’s hand. Tall, black, and smirking, with the beaded cornrow hairstyle of a younger man, he’s as sarcastic now as he was when they were both at Manchester University.
Diane, Leo’s tiny blonde Norwegian wife, is already dancing even as she gives Nick a perfunctory hug. “I love this song!” she chirps.
“Course you do, babe, it’s from your playlist.” Leo offers Nick a massive eye-roll and head-shake, as if to say Women, huh? How do we put up with them?
But he does have a point. The house sound system automatically reads the music libraries of every guest’s auto. So instead of having to compile a party playlist, or pay for a Remote DJ, the guests are all hearing music they enjoy, taken from their own collections. Each new guest’s ‘theme’, their highest-ranked or most-played track, is automatically played as they enter the house, as a way of announcing their arrival and making them feel welcome. It works, sending Diane dancing into the living room and leaving Nick to field Leo’s mock-nasty comments about the décor.
In fact it works so well that when the opening chords to ‘Livin’ On A Prayer’ strike up, half of the house groans and the other half cheers in recognition, knowing that this ancient naff power-ballad can only mean one thing.
10.27pm Saturday 28 May 2022
House visitor: 120
Quon Dongming
Gender: Male
Age range: 41-45
Orientation: Straight
Relationship status:
Married/Monogamous
House visitor: 121
Niu Dongming
Gender: Female
Age range: 31-35
Orientation: Straight
Relationship status:
Married/Monogamous
Quon is an old work colleague of Nick’s, now a financial consultant in the City. He’s dressed in the same grey suit he always seems to wear, pumping his fists and singing along as he enters the house: “Take my haaand, we’re halfway theee-eeere!” Leo is slow-clapping him mockingly, but Quon doesn’t seem to notice, his round face broken into a massive smile. The very same smile is on his pretty wife Niu, who shuffles in behind him, looking just as happy but blushing to be getting so much attention. Both of them are wearing Vades™, and are no doubt counting up the new friend requests being pinged their way as they are welcomed. Everybody adores Quon and Niu on sight. They love the Eighties, they love cheesy tunes, they love every karaoke classic and showtune ever, they are uncool and don’t care, which makes them very cool. That and the fact that they always seem to be smiling and happy. It’s like they’re on drugs, everyone jokes, wondering what their secret is.
“Nick, happy anniversary!” Quon says when the song ends. “You two are catching up to us!” He gestures behind him, somehow knowing Niu is standing there.
“What is it now for you two, thirteen years?” asks Nick.
“Fourteen last month!” Quon hugs Niu, making her giggle as he kisses her forehead. This is another reason why they are adored: the obviously strong marriage they have.
Nick feels like throwing up just looking at them. The rock in his chest is getting heavier.
Before long, the music makes another shift into the heavy bass and sexualised female moans of ‘Do Me’, last summer’s club anthem, announcing another arrival from Nick’s Circle.
10.44pm Saturday 28 May 2022
House visitor: 124
Drake Jackson
Gender: Male
Age range: 36-40
Orientation: Straight
Relationship status:
Single/Available
“Did someone ask for a party animal?” he shouts as he strides in, getting fewer cheers than he obviously hoped. Drake is more of an acquaintance of Nick’s, definitely outer Circle not inner, but there was no way he would ever miss any kind of gathering. He’s almost a straight version of Harry: blonde hair in a youthful messy style, dressed in the latest tuxedo-based fashion, energetic, forever on the pull. Unlike Harry, he didn’t bring any drinks with him. He helps himself to a bottle.
For nearly ten minutes, Nick finds himself standing on the fringes of a good-natured argument about music, as Leo accosts Drake and tells him that this horrible modern post-dubporch music he likes isn’t a patch on classic porch house from a decade ago, the heyday of Sextophonic and Transhumance and Fraser G. In return, Drake claims that whole Neo-Wave movement that came out of porch was tragic retro horseshit. Nick doesn’t feel like he can contribute, but he doesn’t feel like he can walk away either. Chat limbo.
It’s a relief when he spots that his boss has arrived, despite the lack of theme tune.
10.58pm Saturday 28 May 2022
House visitor: 127
Amit Chudasama
Gender: Male
Age range: 46-50
Orientation: Straight
Relationship status:
Married/ Monogamous
“Thanks for the invite, Nick. And congratulations to you and your lady wife.” Amit adjusts his black-rimmed glasses and looks around, as if expecting to see Larissa. But Nick has no idea where she is. Which is gnawing at his insides like he’s swallowed a piranha.
Nick brings Amit into the kitchen and makes him a non-alcoholic cocktail, relieved that someone else here is also long-term teetotal. And there’s another reason for him to relax. Amit has been happily married to his childhood sweetheart for two decades, pre-arranged by their Hindu families when they were both kids, and has five children back home. He’s a gentleman, a family man. Definitely not the type to have an affair.
In fact there’s a general sense of calm efficiency around Amit, which makes him very easy to work for. He’s been with TransDigital Incorporated twice as long as Nick, and never seems to be flustered or stuck for an answer. He’s also the man who promoted Nick to senior on-site supervisor of their primary data centre, which takes up half of an industrial estate in Enfield and provides internet services to millions of people – including hosting their autos. It was this hard-earned promotion that meant they could finally afford their new home. Along with Larissa’s windfall, which couldn’t have come at a better time really.
“Listen, I don’t want to talk shop at your party...” begins Amit.
“No, no, it’s fine, go on,” Nick assures him.
“Well, I was wondering if you’ve had a chance to get to grips with the new BBX yet.”
“Yes!” Nick’s pleased to report. “I got it up and running last week. All the prelim diagnostics and OS tests came back green.”
Maybe he shouldn’t be getting a jolt of excitement talking about this, but Nick can’t help himself. The BBX4001 server is one of a kind, a trial model made by some Pacific Rim
company nobody’s ever heard of, and it’s been given to Nick as a personal project. “I’m at second stage testing, actually. I migrated my own auto from Apple’s servers onto the BBX a couple of days ago. So far it’s running perfectly, in fact about 20% faster. Although to be fair it’s the only thing on the whole server, and it’s got a 1 Exabyte capacity, so it’s not running out of space any time soon!”
Amit’s nodding with satisfaction. “Your feasibility study will carry a lot of weight with the board. If it’s possible to switch-out our existing servers with these...”
Nick understands why this is a big deal. At present, Microsoft autos can only be run on Microsoft servers. Likewise with Apple autos, Google autos, Macroverse autos, and so on. But the BBX4001’s unique data architecture allows it to host anything. In theory, TransDigital could exchange all its platform-specific servers for half as many of these new ones, saving a fortune. “Leave this with me, Amit, you’ll get a thorough analysis report, I promise.”
His boss relaxes – not that he’s ever tense – and accepts another mocktail. After a while, both teetotallers are talking animatedly as if slightly drunk. But that might be because their conversation has steered into nostalgic waters. “Remember when you first got the internet? And suddenly your computer could travel across the world?” Amit shakes his head in wonder. “I just couldn’t believe that plugging that little 33.6 kilobyte modem into the phone socket did so much!”
“I was still using the Atari ST I’d had since I was a kid,” Nick smiles, “plugged into a portable telly, just to play games on mainly. But then in ’97 I went for the whole package – Pentium with US Robotics 56k modem! And I had a 14” monitor which was bulkier than my telly, with an anti-glare filter stuck to the front of the screen, remember those?”
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