by LK Walker
“Un-fucking-believable. Did you know before today?” Eli’s head swings around and he scowl’s me. His eyes are sharp and cold as he waits for an answer.
“I only know that much because I could hear you and Maree talking through the door. Well, not so much talking rather than yelling. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a clue.” He looks satisfied, his eyelids relax back over his protruding eyeballs. He downs half his cocktail in one swig.
“The government did a number on us. I can’t believe they’re using a corporation to fund the chip manufacturing. I was very specific when I accepted the position that I wouldn’t work for one.”
It all makes sense now. We might be getting signed off by the government, but the money is coming from a private backer, which means they own us. No doubt, anything that’s produced out of our workshops, they’ll have a contract securing ownership of that too.
“They can’t get away with it, can they?” I ask.
“Someone higher up signed it off. On both sides, government and from Defence. My Commander didn’t sound surprised when I raised it with him. He told me, in no uncertain terms, to stop whining.”
I take a mouthful of my drink. It’s a little strong for my taste, too much vodka. I try not to screw my face up, as the alcohol slips down my throat. All my attention is on Eli. He is highly emotional, more than I had expected.
“The potential applications of both the software and hardware we’re designing are huge.” Eli fills the silence. “A corporation is not going to be patient when there are such massive profits to be made. They’ll want it as fast as they can—any means necessary. Once they get their hands on it…” He trails off leaving me to think the worst.
“You’d never have been able to keep it out of their hands in the long run. They would’ve found some way to manufacture it themselves.” It’s a weak consolation.
“I know. But I wanted some time, to be able to add a few safeguards. Civilians will buy the S.I. chips as soon as they are available for purchase. Most of them won’t even consider the potential safety threats.”
“What’s the worst-case scenario?” I ask, trying to be helpful. It’s what Mom used to say when I feared doing something. If I looked at the worst and found that it wasn’t so bad, it would give me the confidence to get on and do it.
“Worst case? They manage to find a way to make changes to the neural link I’ve designed. They could send uninvited messages direct to the user’s brain. I haven’t done enough research into it yet to know what the potentials are, but in theory it’s possible. We’re talking about a small chip that’s designed to network with some of the brains functions.”
“Why would you want anything playing with your brain?”
“Cara, the benefits will be astronomical. We will be cautious to begin with. We’re only looking to integrate the visual cortex and auditory capacities with the chip. But what if the corporation has greater aspirations? Direct advertising, manipulating public opinion, subconscious messaging? I can’t imagine what else they might be considering for the general public. It’s put the fear in me.”
“Why would the public buy them, if there’s potentially such an invasion of privacy?”
“With any new technology on the market, there are those who like to be cutting edge, the early adopters, it’ll be hard for them to turn it down. Anyway, cell phones have already done away with privacy. An implanted chip is not a big leap.”
“But wouldn’t people see the risk?”
“Don’t be naïve, Cara. They’ll be waiting in queues to be the first to have the new tech. The company will employ a top marketing firm to sell them. They’ll be hailed as the most sophisticated phone available. The S.I. Chip will be advertised as a safe product, perhaps even safer than the current phones. They won’t require handsets or rechargers and the impact on the environment will be minuscule compared to what we have today. Who’s going to complain?”
“You’ve thought a lot about this?”
“Of course I have. You need some vision when you’re designing, otherwise, what’s the point?”
“And that’s what you’re creating them for? So, some 15-year-old girl can talk to her boyfriend all day, without recharging her phone?”
“No. They are being created so a 25-year old soldier in combat doesn’t have to fumble with a radio or lug heavy long-range communication units around. I can’t go into all the functions the S.I. chips will be capable of, but trust me, they will significantly improve communications and security. They’ll save lives.”
“Perhaps soldiers should use them, but I’m not so sure about the public.” I concede.
“People will buy them up and once the S.I. chips are hooked up, then they’ll complain about the perils of potential corruption of the product.”
“How can you be so pessimistic?”
“It’s not pessimism, it’s reality. Look at the figures, 90% of all Americans own a cell phone. What’s the difference between it being in your pocket or your neck?”
Eli is on the edge of his seat, his hands are waving around and I watch on as the content of his glass nearly breaches the rim. His voice is getting more and more excited as he explains. This is Eli’s brainchild and he is very defensive. From the statistics, he’s able to regurgitate, I doubt I’m the first to challenge him on it.
“Eli, what you’re doing is absolutely fantastic. I can’t start to imagine how valuable the chips will be. But there is no way I’ll have one of those anywhere near my neck while there is a hint that someone could hijack it.” My brain has been jacked enough without tempting fate. I promise myself that I’ll never get one, even if they become fashionable. “Maybe I know too much, but they’re never going to feel safe.” It sounds like I’m apologizing.
“That’s why I didn’t want a corporate involved. They’re looking for profits and they want them as fast as possible. Hurrying the tech through will result in mistakes being made and loopholes being left open, I know it will.”
“You still want to go ahead with them?” I ask.
“You’re right about one thing, if it’s not me doing it, it’ll be someone else. At least I can try to bring a sense of ethics to the table.”
I feel the anxiety building in my chest at the mere thought of the fight Eli has in front of him. He stares down at his glass, playing with the condensation dribbling down its side, before ratcheting the cup back, devouring the remaining liquid.
This time, the silence drags out. I could never imagine Eli being corrupted, he’s the best person to be involved. I only hope he’s not out-maneuvered.
There is a clinking of utensils from the kitchen. Jack’s head pops through the door. “You Sullivans ready for dinner?” he asks.
“Come on.” I hold my hand out for Eli’s empty glass. “I’ll pour you another. You could do with it.”
Jack’s done an amazing job with dinner and it should be delicious, but it’s tainted by what’s happening at work. Eli hardly breaks a smile all night, though Jack’s been doing his best to lift the mood.
As soon as dinner is finished, Eli is moving, taking our dishes and stacking them next to the sink.
“Thanks for dinner. But I might head home.” He walks towards the door and I trail behind him. “Sorry, I was such a wet sock tonight,” he says, trying to give me a small smile.
“No worries.” I go to ruffle his hair, but he’s too tall and he only needs to sway away from me for his head to be out of reach.
“I’ll happily forget this birthday,” he mumbles.
“No, you won’t. If you’re right about the chips, your decision today will save a lot of people grief in the future. I thought you’d know by now that we can’t stop the bad stuff from happening, only make choices to improve what we’re yet to face.”
“Look at you, growing up.”
“So, Elijah, your twenty sixth birthday is the most important yet,” I say it triumphantly and he cringes at the sentiment. “Too far?” I give him a silly look.
“Y
ou were sounding good until then.”
“I was never good at pep talks. That was Mom’s job.”
“I wish she were here too, Cara.”
“She would be proud of your decision and she would be proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
“Eli, it is going to work.”
“Let’s discuss it in twenty years’ time. Hindsight’s a great thing.”
No, foresight is better, I think to myself. Without another word, he walks out the front door, closing it behind him.
Chapter 21
“Are you sure you don’t want another?” Jack waves the blender jug, partially full of the remainder of my cocktail mix. I do, I really do, but I need to be sober when I go to sleep, just in case. I’ve been staying away from the alcohol for a while now.
“No thanks, I might have a peppermint tea.” It’s definitely a change in behavior for me and Jack noticed early on. At first, he thought I was pregnant. The look on his face was priceless when he finally had the courage to ask. He launched into a long speech about how much he loved me and would stand by me, no matter what, before asking the big question. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. I told him that I wouldn’t hide anything so important from him. He relaxed after that and gratefully became more involved in birth control. It made me feel guilty about not divulging the real reason I’d cut back on the drinking. But I have to make sure. The next time I see Zander I need to be coherent.
It’s still early when we go to bed. Jack’s wandering hands take my mind off Eli’s problems for the night. Jack’s had the extra drink I passed on and is in a very gleeful mood. He flips me onto my back and covers me with his body. I inhale his scent as he rains kisses over my neck and I fall happily into his playful lovemaking. Thoughts of Zander flash through my mind and I try to push them away. I can’t help wondering what it would be like with him. I’ve felt Zander’s hands gently poised on my waist, his arms sliding around to hold me, right before he picked me up and pinned me to the bed, just the way Jack has me now. My imagination leads me astray, letting me experience what it could have been like if I had stayed with Zander. Except, in my imagining there is no one else in the room, no quiet guy in the corner typing on his computer, only Zander on top of me, kissing every inch.
Jack.
I bring my mind back from its fantasy. I focus on Jack, on every part of my body that he’s touching and I don’t let my mind slip again. Jack. It feels wrong when you need to check whose name you’re calling before it departs your lips. If Jack notices my wayward mind, he doesn’t show it. I know there’s no way he could, but he feels so close to me during sex, so intimate, that he might be able to judge my soul. When we’re finished, he holds me as he always does, wraps his arms around me and tells me he loves me. It feels so safe in those arms. I tell him I love him too before closing my eyes and tucking into him. My hands lazily glide over his chest before they become too heavy to move.
“Cara?” Zander’s voice is right next to my left ear, my name tickles as it comes out of his mouth. I flip my eyes open and close them quickly again. There’s a blinding light directly above me. I turn my head to where his voice came from and open my eyes again. I block the light with my hand so I can at least get a sense of this place. It’s different from last time. The quiet man—the same one who was on the computer last time—and a woman I’ve never seen before, are next to the keyboard and display at the end of the bed. The woman is tall, with long hair that appears to be tie-dyed purple and pink, although I can’t understand how.
“Is it stable?” Zander asks them.
“Yeah, it’s stable,” the man calls back without looking up. I’m not sure whether to say hello to them. They won’t meet my eye. They can’t be expecting any niceties so I focus back on Zander.
“Good. You can go.” Zander says. “Stay on comms. I’ll let you know when I need you.” They both look relieved to be leaving. My company obviously isn’t as illustrious as I had been led to believe. Before the woman looks away, she gives me a wink so no one else can see but me.
“Nice jacket,” I call after her. It’s light brown and it practically shimmers as she moves.
“Thank you,” she replies. “She still has good taste,” the woman comments to the quiet man before pulling the door closed behind them.
I take a good look around the new premises. They have hooked up all the usual cords, but instead of the hospital bed I usually wake on, I’m lying on a table, covered with a light gray sheet, and a pillow under my head. The room is small and there is an open plan kitchen next to it. I could nearly reach the counter top if I just stretched my hand out. It’s fair to say this place is compact. Through the two open doors, off to my left, I can see the adjacent rooms. One contains a bed with a teal bedspread and the other is a bathroom.
“What is this place?” I ask. “Are you being honest about the whole ‘we’re in the future’ thing?” It still sounds ridiculous so I use air quotes to detach myself from the idea. “Because this place looks normal.” It’s blatantly my era. The last room we were in had a different feel to it. It had modern decorations by my standards, though in a state of decay as if it had been around a while. When I think back, there were oddities to it too, like no light switches and strange looking electronics that I didn’t recognize, all gathering dust. Even the floor beneath my feet had been soft and warm—but not carpet. I could have believed it was futuristic. Here is a different story. It is new-looking with a cream-colored wall nearly the same color as the one I have at home. The carpet is wool pile, a similar cream to the walls. This could be a smaller version of Dad’s house.
“The last few occupants, I think, liked it this way.” Zander doesn’t appear to be phased by my insinuation. “We’ve set up shop in a retirement village. One of the guys lost his grandmother, and we callously asked if we could make the most of the situation. It’s not exactly how we like to do things, but we’re desperate.”
I swing my legs over the side of the table. Zander is right there in front of me. His eyes drop to mine.
“I’m sorry it took so long to get you back to us.” That’s when he moves in closer, his hand touches my neck while his thumb strokes my jaw. My heart skips a beat. I missed that touch. It has helped get me through a dark time in my life. But that was when I thought he was my imagination. While I was lying in Jack’s arms tonight I promised myself one thing. No more Zander, not in that way. I put a hand on Zander’s chest and gently push him back. It takes a lot of willpower.
“I have a boyfriend. His name is Jack. And I will not do anything to jeopardize that. I love him. And since, as you tell me, you are real, not some figment of my imagination, this must stop. I would never have let it happen if I’d known the truth.” Zander looks like he wants to argue, is going to, but stops himself and instead looks away, hiding a frown.
“You’re right.” His shoulders straighten and he turns back to me. His face shows no signs of sadness. It shows no sign of emotion at all. “It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you,” I say casting my eyes down, away from his. I notice they haven’t bothered putting the gloves back on the stranger’s hands that I appear to operate.
“As I started telling you last time, we need you to help us. Your mind and its memories will be duplicated into the body you are currently inhabiting.” Zander’s voice is monotone and he won’t look me in the eye. I want to tell him it hurt me to say what I did, but that won’t help either of us, so I stay quiet and listen. “Her name was Vera and she was originally from Sweden. Vera and her boyfriend Isak were in a serious accident. They both died instantly. Neither had ever received a neuro-chip, so they were perfect for what we needed. These days, not being chipped is more of a rarity than you would expect. So much so they’ve been given their own nickname. If you hear anyone talking about ‘the chaste’ that’s who they are—regular people without a chip. Anyway, we were able to acquire Vera and Isak’s bodies quickly and use them as a vehicle to pull you through.”
&
nbsp; “Can you hear yourself? You don’t acquire bodies. They were people. You can’t talk about them like they were nothing, a commodity. How…” But Zander doesn’t let me finish. His eyes are finally back on mine, burning into me.
“You don’t know anything about it, Cara. I’m only trying to explain it without getting into the details you won’t want to hear. But since you’re so interested, they are not, never have been, a commodity, as you put it. I made the call to Vera’s parents myself. I had to tell them their daughter was dead. Do you have any idea how painful that is, when they plead for their daughter to be alive? You have to listen to their hearts breaking. The manic sobs.”
I don’t have to imagine that crushing feeling, the pain as it tears through you. I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes.
“Is this what you want to hear, Cara?” But he doesn’t wait for an answer. “And then to ask them if they would give us their bodies because we need them to take down the people who killed their child?” Zander’s eyes are welling up too. His recollection is agonizing for both of us.
“Stop, please.” I want to comfort him, but I don’t know how. We both take a moment to calm. I rein in my attitude and gently ask, “Who killed her?”
Zander’s eyes are glazed and he appears to physically bring himself out of his trance. “There are things I can’t tell you.”
“How is that one of them?”
“In case you try and fix the problem before it happens.”
“Wouldn’t that be an easy solution? Then Vera and Isak would still be alive.”
“Or it could be the start of something increasingly more horrendous. You can’t try to change what’s happened.”
“Can you tell me why, at least? Why they were killed?” I demand.
“Partially because they had information that would damage the reputation of the killers if it got out and part because they were getting in the way.”
“So, they murdered them?”
“The selfish people haven’t disappeared in the past twenty-six years. Think—if the lives of others meant nothing to you, how many would you sacrifice to get what you want?”