Augmented i

by Nathan Goater

  "You're un-natural, you cyborg," I felt the spit from his words hitting my face. "I'm gonna rip that metal out of your head"

  "Shit!" I screamed again, he had my arms pinned down, and it felt like my mind was pinned down as well. Try as I might, I could not go offline. "No!" I shouted and brought my knee up hard and fast. It hit his balls, and he weakened for a second. Enough for me to push him away and off me.

  "You stay away you freak," I held my hands up in front of me. I tried to go offline again, and it worked.

  "Shitin' hell," I said, back in the real world, in my empty office. I sat on the floor, staring at my vomit from earlier, and felt my heartbeat going ten to the dozen. I started conscious breathing, and it calmed marginally.

  "Crap, what the hell was that about," I said to the empty room. "Shit."

  As my heartbeat calmed down, I became aware that the hair on the back of my neck was starting to rise. I shivered. That usually meant someone was trying to contact me.

  Good, I thought to myself, I could do with some company.

  I accessed the request, expecting to see it from Joe Latif-Beta, or Rav, but there was no name in it I had never known a request without a name, there was always a name in them, because they were always from someone. Why would someone hide their name?

  Oh shit. Who was that and how did they get my profile? Oh big shit. It had to be them, I couldn't think why anyone else would hide their name. You never have a request without a name, this was wrong. How did they find me? My profile? I felt trapped and confused, like I couldn't get away from them. I ran from the room, feeling a migraine building behind my tear drenched eyes.

  * * * *

  Back in my apartment, I double bolted the door behind me and went through each room turning the lights on. I kept getting the urge to look under the bed, but stopped myself; that was too weird, I felt like I was going out of my mind as it was. But I went through each room and unplugged the phone, tvip, and all the access points I could remember. I sat back on my sofa and relaxed into its cushions, I felt a bit safer, but only a little after cutting myself off from my life. Being connected was just a part of me. I looked around the empty lounge, the blank screens looking back at me sitting on my own. I felt alone, isolated and just as vulnerable as before. I realised that I needed to be with other people, but just thinking about going online made me feel sick with fear and I still had the after-taste of vomit in my mouth. I'd even switched off my embedded router, and keeping it that was taking all the prescence of mind I could muster. It had been switched on ever since I had it implanted, ever since I'd changed it the year before, and the previous router had been on continuously since I was 18. It had only been off a matter of minutes and I was missing it.

  I sat there trying to think about the people I knew in my Sonet without actually opening the Sonet up. Each time I would feel a buzzing at the back of my neck as the router switched itself on, and I'd have to consciously switch it off again. I didn't realise until that moment how physically separated I was from my friends. We would meet up on a slice, share in experiences there, trade in a bit of teleprescence, but even my splits had moved to different parts of the planet. The closest physically was across the channel in France. I couldn't just pop round theirs for a talk, I had to connect through the slices.

  I stood up and started pacing up and down my lounge. I felt this nervous energy building up in me. I needed to talk to someone, I had to get out. I had to take my mind off what had happened. I then had an idea, so I slipped a vegetable knife into a coat pocket in case I was being followed, and left my apartment.

  The slice cafe was half way up a small steep road that connected a paved pedestrian area to the road that circled the castle. The frontage had been restored to look like a tailors, with fake mannequins in the windows and black and gold enamelled lettering above the door. As I pushed it open a bell rang somewhere in the back. The reception was empty apart from a couple of fluid-ink magazines spread on the counter off to one side. A dude walked through from the back. His hair making a halo around him, the clothes tattered and worn, probably straight off the peg as the colour change circuits were casually moving through a rainbow.

  "Yeah?" he asked chewing.

  I realised I shouldn't be doing this, whoever they were might still track me. If they new my guid it would be easy. The thought of going onto the slices panicked me, and I forgot to talk. "Errr, um. Erm. I'd- I'd like half an hour, er ple-"

  "Sure," he slid a card across the counter, "booth five," and gestured with his head to behind him. "Pay on access."

  He led the way through to the back.

  * * * *

  My hand shook as I locked the door behind me. The clunk of the bolts echoed in the empty booth. I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach as I turned to face a room that was a fraction larger than claustrophobic. The walls faded away and were replaced by a dark room with racks of suits and ties.

  "Welcome," the bot started, a tape draped around its neck. I guessed it was meant to look like a tailor. "Our payment circuits are aware of the credit card in your pocket, do you wish to use that for any payments?"

  "Yes," I replied and took the slim plastic out from my pocket.

  "The payment will be fifty pounds an hour-"

  "Half an hour," I said and fumbled as I tried to thumb the plastic.

  "Thank you. Please note our terms and condi-"

  "Contact Joe Latif-Eta at GamesAdvantage US"

  The tailor-bot nodded. "Connecting."

  I bit my lip against my feelings of dread as the slice cafe's online facade faded away and Joe appeared in front of me as if he was physically there with me.

  "Hey! My self-same, how's it going?"

  I barely noticed his room fade in around him it was so dimly lit, screens hung in the background like a child's mobile, casting an icy glow on the side of his face, ideograms dancing over their surfaces. I realised I was holding my breath and tried to relax.

  I felt so sick in my gut for contacting him, even if it was just from an anonymous booth. He saw my expression and worry crept onto his face. "Oh god, what's happened Joe?"

  I bit my lip again. "Er, are we secure?"

  He nodded, "Yes, I'm sure."

  As I breathed out my shoulders relaxed. "I've run into something really bad, I can't believe it happened. I just needed to talk to someone."

  He perched on the back of a sofa. "What happened?"

  I saw his eyes soften, widen and his shoulders rise as we started to get each other. I felt stronger as my spine extended like his and my mind suddenly cleared making me feel less upset since this had happened. He looked like he was about to cry.

  He nodded after a couple of seconds. "Hmm. I can feel your pain. And I feel afraid of something?"

  I bowed my head as I remembered back to my encountered with the smallheads, and nearly toppled over as the room started to spin. "I witnessed a torture."

  "Oh my god," his hand went to cover his mouth, "what happened?"

  I told him, and afterwards he sat staring at nothing, mouth open, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "All of us could be in danger from this. If they tortured one man to death, they'll do it to others and that means they could do it to all of us. I mean, we can't have that, and they showed you they are not afraid of doing it again."

  He turned to face me. "We've got to do something about this, haven't we? But do you know anything about them? Could we, say, report them to the authorities? Or, at least, talk to our union about this? We need to make sure all of us are safe."

  My feelings of dread were growing over me as I said: "I think they have my guid, I had someone finger me afterwards, but there was no signature. That's why I've not contacted you with my embedded router, I'm shitting myself being on a public one, anonymous or not, or secure or not as it is."

  His sigh let a lot out. "There's only one thing we can do, really. If they have your guid then we have to get rid of that guid. I'm getting an idea that I don't think you're gonna li
ke, but I think this could work out okay."

  I felt his resolve, but my breath caught in my throat as I realised what he meant, dread disappeared and was replaced by anger. "No bloody way Joe Latif-Eta, I'm not a split, I'm the Proto, the original. Wh- what about accuracy and data error? There won't be any chance of another split if we do what you're thinking. The company'll have us in court faster than you can say shit. For gods sake. Bloody hell Joe."

  All of a sudden he looked tired. "I'm scared too Joe. But what else can we do? You know yourself that we're all just limbs off one body, and would you cut off a limb to save a life? Of course you would. Anyone would." He rubbed his face and eyes. "What are we really gonna lose? None of us is unique. We share DNA, we share memories, all thirteen of us are just one person. You know that, don't you. I didn't tell you but the company wants another split anyway, so this could work out quite well."

  I set my jaw. "I can't believe you."

  "'You'. What do you mean 'you'?" he screeched. "Aren't we all the same person? If that body died 'you' will continue to exist in twelve other Joe Latif's. 'You' won't know any different, you just won't be the original copy. You only know you are the Proto because you woke in the same room you were in before you went under. If the bodies were swapped between rooms before you woke up, you'd think you were a split. There's no other way you would know."

  My head was buzzing and warm, I felt my bile rising at the back of my throat.

  He stopped dead and then said quieter. "One thing you as a Proto don't know is that every time a split wakes up from the op for a split second, before they open their eyes, they think that they're the Proto too. I remember all the previous times waking as the Proto, and then the last time when I woke as a split the feeling was exactly the same. No difference. Why I feel like Joe Latif the Proto right now, but I know that I'm not." He sat back, the smug bugger, and took a deep breath.

  In the dim light of the booth, I stared at my double. "I don't feel like a Proto, I just feel like me."

  He smiled. "Yep. That's how I feel, except when I then tell myself that I'm not. But I am really, aren't I?" He shifted on the edge of the lounger. "It's just some of my recent memories are slightly different. Do you remember the first router sunglasses I owned were too -"

  "Tight. Yes, I remember asking dad for a new pair." The memory made me feel good, and he smiled and nodded remembering that feeling as well.

  "Yes we both have that memory. Do you remember spending a year out to take that five year course? Five years condensed into one single year as implanted memories. We both know that they aren't real but they felt it, didn't they?"

  "Yes," I replied. Was the dimness brightening, or was I starting to get it?

  "This blurring of memories is what splits feel all the time. Your first split op was three years back, but you haven't got it yet, have you? You haven't got what it means to be a clo- to be resource engineered."

  He started again. "What if it was me that had seen that torture and I was being tracked by those smallheads? What would you think I should do to protect the other Joe Latif's?"

  "Yes, but that is differ-" I caught myself.

  "You bastard, Joe Latif-Proto."

  "If I am, you are."

  "You utter bastard, that you think that you the Proto are better than all us twelve splits. That you think you are any different to us, but you are no different. And you are no better," he sneered. "Don't mind us. You let yourself get caught and tortured. Us splits, we'll protect ourselves."

  He disappeared with his room and I was left staring at the blank walls of the booth. I had a lot to think about.

  * * * *

  As I drove along the sweeping road that led to the split-ops building, the reflected sunlight from the buildings' spires flickered through the trees. I felt sick with the nerves of what we were going to do. As long as we all kept quiet about it, the company wouldn't find out. I'd been through the split procedure many times before so that wasn't a worry. But I felt scared witless of what the smallheads would do if they found me. And the blasted rhythmic flickering of the sunlight was making me feel even more nausea.

  Looking up at the gaudy spires I felt trapped between them, it cost a lot of money to split a person's consciousness, and my previous splits and myself were going to just throw the old version away, but our story was sound. I nearly tripped on the gravel for not looking where I was going and as I was feeling sick from the fear of what we were going to do, now blinded by the sunlight I almost missed the entrance.

  "Good morning Mr Latif," her hair was drawn back tightly from her temples, "if you could provide your guid, and I will verify your identity and version number."

  "Which is number one" I said and gulped.

  She bared her teeth in an attempt at a smile. "If you would like to take a seat on the sofa, and the consultant will be with you shortly." She gestured to a sofa that was threatening to engulf anyone that sat in it.

  My heart was thumping in my ears while I waited, fidgeting, for the consultant to turn up. An internal door sprang open and he strode in, white hair matching his white lab coat.

  "Ah Mr Latif, back so soon?" he grinned. "Come with me, com'n com'n, I have exciting news about the procedure," as he offered me his hand.

  He led me through to the maze of consultation rooms. For all the times I had been here I still couldn't remember which room was which, and now walking slower than I normally would, I might as well have been a lamb to the slaughter.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me."We have made some improvements to the procedure since you were last here, Joseph. We have the accuracy of the copy process down to one part per trillion, which is as good as we need it. I trust you have your guid and documentation ready?"

  "Yes," I nodded, and I remember clearly thinking, 'here we go' and took a deep breath.

  We traded documentation, verified I really was who I said I was, and he settled me down on the procedure couch. I nestled my head between the padded rests on either side and tried to stop my heart beating so fast. Deep breaths. I'd never been so nervous about this before, but then I'd never intended on killing the Proto before.

  "Ok," the consultant found the vein on the back of my hand, and pierced it with the needle. "You will start to feel drowsy, if you could count from 10 to 1."

  "Ten, nine..."

  * * * *

  Sounds quiet and garbled, eyes opened and shapes didn't make sense, like being underwater at a swimming pool, and slowly they became louder and clearer, and my thoughts woke and started to go through the possibilities, sleeping? No too much light. Birth? Um, I don't think so, not sure why. Ooh, it's not a cloud it's an olive skinned man, with a light beside him.

  There was some sound near me. "Mmmmaaaa aaateeeeeeta. Mmmaa aateefeeet. Mmer ateefeta. Mr Latif-Feta. Mr Latif-Theta, are you awake?"

  Ahh! Yes, I thought as my memory clicked into place, I'm at the split-ops. And I had that satisfied feeling of knowing why I was there. I closed my eyes against the light and lay there thinking. Somewhere else in the building there was a copy of me waking just the same as this, then I remembered the plan.

  "Oh," I said. The feeling of elation evaporated to be replaced by a tight ball of nerves.

  "Is everything okay, Mr Latif-Theta?"

  Theta. He just called me Theta. I opened my eyes again and looked around the room, a dark wood-panelled room. I shook my head, this was not the same room I was sedated in, and I realised I was not the Proto. I was the new split, I was that copy, and somewhere else in the building the Proto was waking just like me. I fell back onto the couch and let my breath out.

  "Oh, okay. What, sorry," I looked across at the olive skinned man. "Yes, fine. Everything is absolutely fine."

  "If you could lean forward, so I can give you your new guid?"

  I did so, and felt something cold press onto the back of my neck. There was a puff of air, and I felt sick for a fraction of a second.

  "There we go sir. If you could look up, and to the
right?"

  As I did I saw a burst of static, and a shiver run up my spine.

  "All done sir, if you could proceed to the reception where Mr Latif-Proto will meet you." He helped me to my feet, and smiled as he guided me to the door.

  * * * *

  The corridor back to reception wobbled as I walked down it. With each step the wobble waned a bit, until at the door through to reception my head was clear of the knock-out drugs. My Proto stood yawning over by the counter, and when I saw him I felt an overwhelming sense of relief that I wasn't the Proto, and what he had to do. I shook my head, trying to shake out any notion that I was unique, I wasn't, we were all one person, one Joe Latif really. When the Proto saw me we both smiled.

  I thought I saw a twinge of sadness enter his eyes as he looked away. My mind cast back to other splits, when I was the proto, and I couldn't remember seeing that before. As he turned towards the reception counter his jaw tighten as he said, "Good-bye."

  She smiled a receptionist's smile back."Good-bye to you both. Have a great day."

  I nodded a thank you.

  Outside in the sunlight, walking by my Proto, I realised that I was holding my breath, I was tensed up. I couldn't think as my brain was in a fog, it was just obsessively going over and over how nervous I felt.

  "I'll drive you back to the hotel," the Proto said, "if you want. I'm -"

  "Moving on," I finished. "Yes, I need to - "

  "Get back to England," he said nodding. "Yes."

  "Um, yes."

  "Don't worry Joe Latif-Theta. I know what needs to be done," he shrugged his shoulders and turned to look up at the sun, squinting his eyes. "We're all one person, one Joe Latif, so it doesn't matter."

  "Er-," I said, and tripped on the gravel.

  * * * *

  Back in the UK with a contract for a new flat sorted out, a new room of doors created, and an import of the latest Sonet from our upload slice, I decided to call up Rav to say 'Hi I'm the new split, the Theta'.

  As we connected I saw him standing in the centre of a park, the wide expanse of sun scorched grass beyond and around him. "Hey there Joe, did you forget something?"

  I felt my stomach muscles tense, as Rav's comment put me off guard. Me as the Theta had never spoken to him. "Rav? Um."

  "Oh sorry," he shook his head. "Hi Joe, sorry I was talking to your Eta just now. Sorry." He smiled quizzically at me. "I never know whether to introduce myself to you because you're a recent split. I mean we already know each other, but it's just another version of you. Um hi, Joe Latif-Theta? Welcome."