Chapter 3 #2
Her eyes narrow, and she glances at his empty hands—actually, it was the orange-haired lab coat who surprise-injected her with whatever drug knocked her out.
Her attention drifts to his black hair, worn spiky today, and the oversized blue-and-white checked smock he wears.
Does the absence of a uniform mean this is a personal visit?
“I guess,” she says.
As he cautiously moves into the room, she shuffles back on the bed, tucking her knees to her chest and drawing the blankets protectively over them.
He approaches, gesturing to the bed. “I’ll sit, if that’s okay. I’m Tommy, Res6’s personal assistant.”
The bed shifts under his weight. Thankfully, he’s chosen a spot as far on the opposite side as possible. Once comfortable, he releases a long exhale, like he’s preparing for a tense conversation. “He says you’re struggling to adjust.”
Electra coughs. “Well, considering I’m grieving the loss of everyone I’ve ever known, I’m not doing so great.” Based on Res6’s unfeeling interactions, she never would have guessed he was concerned enough to delegate her problems to his PA.
She mentally replays their last conversation from the previous night. The one where they argued, in a roundabout sort of way, about her current depressive episode, her need for comfort, and his inability to be anything resembling an emotionally available human being. He’d gone as far as to suggest—
“I don’t want to be decommissioned, if that’s what this is about,” she blurts out.
Tommy chuckles. “I stopped by to check on you.”
“Oh,” she says.
“Believe me, I know how Res6 can be. Perhaps leaving you alone with him was inadvisable.” Her gaping stare must convey her shock, because he adds, “Rest assured, he takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
“He suggested decommissioning me in lieu of—” She gestures, embarrassed, at the nest of blankets cocooning her.
Tommy’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. They’ve already agreed not to decommission you.” When her look is questioning, he shrugs. “He and Lextr think studying you might be useful for their special project—don’t ask. I’m not at liberty to tell you about it.”
Her voice squeaks as she asks, “Study me how?”
“Just a few noninvasive scans. Nothing to be afraid of,” he says.
Still, a shiver runs down her spine. “So why did he offer to decommission me then?”
He eyes her blanket fort. “It was probably his way of nudging you to extricate yourself from whatever it is you’re doing in this room.”
“What’s the difference between being locked in here versus out there?” She points toward the ominous door and the man who she suspects, based on his rhythmic footfalls, is pacing on the other side of it. “I tried to explain how I am feeling and what I need, but he’s incapable of offering it.”
“How are you feeling?”
If she were to take his question seriously and marinate on it, how is she really feeling? “Abandoned,” she decides.
Tommy clears his throat. “By whom?”
A huff escapes her lungs, and she gestures at no one and everything all at once.
“I don’t know. God. The universe? Whatever cosmic entity is supposed to give a shit about our measly little lives.
” Well, there goes her victim mentality flaring back to life.
She can practically hear Janet in her best TV voice asking a morning show guest, How have these thoughts helped you in the past?
“Ah, you’re thinking of the non-deities Zorg and Zephyr. I’m a devoted follower. It seems they have decided to shake things up by introducing people from the past to our timeline.”
That’s right. Res6 mentioned rumors of others like her on her first day here, but it got lost in the deluge of new information. Why hadn’t she thought to ask? “You’re sure there are more people like me?”
Tommy’s gaze slides to the door, then back to her.
Then he leans forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Yes! Mishaps from a competitor called GROW. Perhaps, once you’re acclimated, we can identify a few and arrange for you to meet them?
” he offers. She instantly brightens. “I’d have to clear it with the boss, though. His word is law.”
There is so much information to take in, her head is spinning. She needs to break things down into simple questions. “As in The Boss, not just your boss?”
“Oh shit! He specifically told me not to mention that little detail to you. I suppose now that you know . . .” He shrugs as if violating his employer’s wishes is no big deal. “Res6 invented manupartners. CHOICElover is his prized creation. You can’t tell him I let it slip.”
An awful sinking sensation takes hold in her gut. “Shit.”
Tommy’s brows raise in question.
“I may have said quite a few disparaging things about his prized creation.”
“For example?” Tommy urges, making her want to toss the blankets over her head and hide from the inevitable confrontation her words have earned her.
“I may have called the manupartners sex robots and said they were the most messed-up thing I’ve ever heard.” She said other things too. None of which she is ready to confess to her potential ally.
“Oh my. Well, perhaps that is why he is reluctant to . . .” He waves a hand in her general direction.
“To offer me compassion?” Are all future people completely devoid of it? Because if so, how dismal.
“Yes, that’s what I was saying.” Tommy jumps to his feet, expression brightening like he’s on to something.
He taps a finger to his lips twice before announcing, “I think you two got off on the wrong foot. Try to understand how things are now. People in our society value their ability to choose their own experiences. It is the ultimate freedom. And with manupartners, they can—”
“Get exactly what they’re looking for in a partner. Yes, he explained this to me.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“I just think it’s sad, don’t you?”
Tommy shrugs, plopping back down on the bed.
“Manupartners keep people happy. Just imagine, no messy breakups. No disagreements over what to have for dinner. In the mood for romance? Your CHOICElover will be ready and eager to please. It isn’t sad at all.
It’s the ultimate freedom.” He pats the bed like he’s solidified his argument and thinks she should accept it so she can get onto acting happy now.
“That sounds incredibly vacant to me. But I suppose we’re from different worlds.
” Different worlds, four hundred years apart.
She hasn’t even seen the outside world yet or met any other future people.
She keeps telling herself it won’t be that bad, but considering Res6, now Tommy is here, is there any reason to hope?
Exasperation has her burying her head in her hands.
“I knew something like this would happen.”
“A prophecy?” He leans forward, excitement written clearly across his pointy features.
A prophecy? That’s right. He said he was a devoted follower of some modern non-deities—whatever that means—so he would be apt to believe in prophecies.
“No, nothing like that. I just . . .” A grumble escapes her throat.
“Everything always goes wrong for me. I grew up dirt poor. My mom died of what should have been a treatable disease. We couldn’t afford college for me.
Then, when I was finally getting somewhere—I woke up here! ”
He shifts uncomfortably. “Sounds like a fortunate twist of fate to me! So what do I need to do to get you out of bed and into the shower?”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. What she really needs is a friend, and if there are people from her time, that would be great motivation to shower. “How soon do you think I can meet one of the people from my time?”
Tommy taps his lip. “I don’t know. Like I said, your main hurdle will be convincing Res6. He’s determined to keep your identity a secret. The public can’t find out about you. Who knows what NHOS would do.”
“He thinks he’s going to keep me hidden away? That I’m going to live the rest of my life only able to interact with the three people who know about my existence? That’s unacceptable.” And daunting. She’ll go mad, if she isn’t already a good portion of the way there.
“I’m not saying that at all. Lots of people use anonymous identities online.
There are countless chat rooms for you to choose from.
I’m sure you can meet people interested in compassion or whatever else you’re looking for.
The faster you acclimate, the better chance you’ll have of convincing him to give you some freedom. ”
Res6 dishing out her freedom is borderline insulting, yet this is a whole new world to her, so she understands the need for caution.
Plus, acclimating is a good suggestion, regardless.
“Chat rooms?” She fishes her tablet out of the mountain of covers and hands it to him. “Can you show me how to work this?”
“Res6 didn’t?”
She huffs. “He showed me the Scrawl app but otherwise he’s just left me to figure it out on my own, which is proving impossible.”
“Ah, well. That explains a lot. I will gladly rectify his mistake. There are lots of things online that will make you feel much happier. Let’s see .
. . chat rooms, online shopping.” He leans forward.
“Res6 is flush with unicoin. I’m sure he won’t mind if you buy whatever makes you smile.
There are more games than you can imagine, plus there are videos.
Some educational and some that are just for entertainment. ”
“We had all that during my time,” she says, seriously doubtful of the modern internet’s ability to make her happy if the internet in her time was anything to go by.
Not to mention, the thought of spending Res6’s money makes her stomach twist uncomfortably.
Because if she relies on someone besides herself, that means leaving her fate in their hands.
And what if they can’t handle it? What if they let her down?
It’s just money, and your new friend says Res6 has a lot, Electra.
That’s not the point, Janet.