Chapter 3
The woman cuts in, repeating, “We would replace your unit for free.”
The agent pushes the GROW kit back across the counter. “Then how do you know you aren’t satisfied?”
The agent releases an audible sigh. “How would this be considered false advertising?”
Heat crawls up her neck and she’s sure her face is flushed. All this arguing . . . No wonder she avoids confrontation at all costs. This can’t be good for her complexion. It seems there is only one way to solve this. “May I please speak with someone more interested in hearing my concerns?”
The agent grins. “Excuse me?”
K8 shifts uncomfortably. “Who do you report to?”
“You would like to speak with my manager?”
K8’s voice is sheepish as she says, “Yes.”
“Go wait in the lobby. And don’t forget your GROW kit.” The agent shakes her head as she walks away.
Shame heats K8’s cheeks as she snatches her kit off the counter and makes her way to the lobby.
Zephyr, please don’t let anyone I know be here.
She’s sure she’s never been so uncomfortable.
If she tucks herself into the corner between the wall and a vending machine, hopefully no one will notice her.
This will all turn out fine. She will talk to the manager—the horror—and convince them to take the kit and refund her.
Then this entire awful experience will be over and she can get on with her life.
Maybe she’ll even go out and try to meet someone.
Take the refund and start a savings account.
Well, nothing drastic. She’ll invest in Incredible Bill’s collection, then start saving.
K8’s email alert pings, drawing her attention away from the momentary blip her last week has amounted to. She sets the GROW kit down at her feet, fishing out her device. The subject reads:
NHOS: Project: Loneliness Ends Now Annual Survey
Why NHOS sends out these mandatory surveys is beyond her.
After the first ten years in her current FRIENDS group, she started copy/pasting the same saved answers.
That the agency accepts them every year without question suggests no one evaluates the answers unless there’s a glaring red flag.
Still, she dutifully skims the body of the welcome distraction necessary email.
Good morning, Citizen C-K8lyn-MSP-00023468,
As a requirement of Project: Loneliness Ends Now (Project: LEN), the Northern Hemisphere Organizational System (NHOS) requires you to complete this year’s annual survey for the following Project: LEN issued FRIENDS:
B-Lessa-MSP-00023287
B-Oro1-MSP-00022039
C-Jett-MSP-00022978.
As you complete the survey, remember your NHOS issued FRIENDS are a vital:
First Response to Isolation via Engagement with Networking as a Deterrent System.
Our research supports the many Citizen benefits of maintaining three FRIENDS, such as increased life expectancy (24.76% on average). Not only do FRIENDS help decrease loneliness, FRIENDS are an effective step in each Citizen’s Fight Against Aging!
But for Project: LEN to work effectively as designed, all three FRIENDS must be performing optimally. Your answers below will not be shared with your FRIENDS, and if needed, we may issue new FRIENDS. Project: LEN is committed to the maximized happiness of each valued NHOS Citizen.
K8 rolls her eyes, wondering if any of the government employees working for Project: LEN believe the nonsense they’re purporting.
What would they do if she failed to check in for her group’s weekly drinks appointment?
Or worse, added a fifth member to the FRIENDS group, throwing off the optimal balance.
Not that she would do such a thing. She is rather fond of this group, which she’s been a part of for almost forty years.
Granted, most of their interactions revolve around superficial things, like MediSpa appointments and visiting new eateries.
Yet she wouldn’t trade them. After the first twenty years, she grew an affection for them.
That’s not to mention how awful her first three FRIENDS groups were.
In her last group, a woman named Ammee wore a salted palm nut perfume that was so strong, the pungent fruity scent made K8’s mascara run.
Then there was that person Billi who insisted at each meetup they play multi-level board games, which carried on until she felt as if she might publicly weep.
Weeping would cause wrinkles, to say nothing of distress. Two things to be avoided at all costs.
Therefore, she had no trouble filling out the surveys those years until she finally landed in her current group.
It’s concerning to think that Lessa, Jett, or Oro1 might be unhappy with their FRIENDS group and respond to their surveys negatively.
This prompts her to paste the same benign answers every year, hoping for their mirrored consistency.
Her chest constricts as she selects the answer to the first question.
Q1: When is the last time your FRIENDS listened and showed genuine interest when you expressed yourself?
K8: At my birthday dinner just last week, we discussed my deep-seated fear of sagging skin. They each listened with great empathy and understanding.
Q2: How do your FRIENDS show you they appreciate you for who you really are?
K8: By demonstrating interest in the things that are important to me, like my vital work as a particulate pollution scientist.
Q3: Can you have meaningful conversations with your FRIENDS?
Yes and no. See, the truthful answer is only to a point.
K8: Yes, of course. Recently, we discussed the merits of voluntary end-of-life procedures.
They discussed the 301-year-old woman on K8’s floor who opted for the SAY GOODBYE Peaceful Passing Procedure just last week. The focus of the conversation, however, was who she might gift her collection of multicolored light-up wigs to.
Of course, they’ve never discussed such sensitive topics as the societal impact or ethical considerations of the procedure.
She might mention her and Jett’s regular argument about manupartners, but at this point that would feel a little too hypocritical since there is one that she bought and paid for currently resting at her feet.
Also, it might alert the people at Project: LEN that her FRIENDS did not fulfill every emotional need in her life and that might garner unwanted scrutiny.
The last thing she needs is for them to replace her FRIENDS.
Q4: Do your FRIENDS meet your needs for companionship?
Now here is where it gets stickier. Her FRIENDS provide a certain amount of companionship.
But—and this is a big but—they don’t. It’s oversimplifying this gnawing ache in her chest down to her government prescribed network as if she should be satisfied with enough.
While she cares for them and she should be grateful for the NHOS initiative and the research that went into it, she wants something more.
Sure, she spends time with her FRIENDS, and often. It’s enough great most of the time, but one of them usually has a manupartner in tow.
She glances up from her device to the rotating advertising banner on the opposite wall. It pauses on the GROW logo, which glows in the center of the particle pane. Beneath it is their customer promise: “Providing Customers Premium Companionship Since 2304.”
Companionship. What utter nonsense. Instead of dwelling on the true answers to the remaining survey questions, K8 copy/pastes in the not-quite lies to questions four through ten before submitting the survey. She’s sorting through her inbox when she hears his voice.
“Hello, lovely creature,” he says, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Even though it’s been over fifty years, she would know that tenor anywhere. It’s the man whose name she never caught, but who rarely leaves her thoughts for more than a week or two.
She peeks out from her hiding spot, expecting to see the pale skin and copper hair imprinted in her memory.
Instead, he’s wearing it longer and blond, which doesn’t complement his skin quite as favorably as the copper did.
It also seems he’s had the shape of his eyes altered.
He’s still attractive, but not as glaringly as she remembers.
She stuffs her phone into her bag and picks up the GROW kit in case she needs to suddenly flee.
“If you’re between manupartners, might I offer myself to occupy your time?” He offers her a coy grin.
K8 blinks as she scans his uniform. “You work here?” she squeaks.
Zephyr, get it together, K8. She never expected to run into him again.
Especially after all those failed attempts at searching for him.
She even went to the same club night after night following their encounter, hoping to see him.
She never did. Now here he is, evidently working for GROW, and propositioning her like he did all those years ago.
“I do. In the advertising department,” he proudly offers. If he only knew how vile she thought the flesh robots were, not to mention how ironic it was that he worked in the very department she blames for tricking her into ordering the kit she now clutches to her chest like a shield.
All she can do is stupidly say, “You’ve been here the whole time. In M Quadrant?”
“Do we know each other?” His eyes narrow.
She gasps as if struck. “Firelight?” she tries, thinking the nickname he gave her might jog his memory.
“Is that your name, lovely?”
“Zephyr, you really don’t remember me.”
He chuckles. “It seems I made quite the impression on you. What do you say we do it again?”
K8 grips the box for dear life as the memory of their encounter washes over her. She’d been in her late twenties and wearing a backless dress when she’d first heard his voice. A low, smooth tone whispered into her ear, “Hello, mythical creature. You’ve caught my eye, and I can’t seem to look away.”
K8 shivered as she felt the heat of his hand hovering against her exposed back. “May I?” he asked.
She said, "Yes," without even seeing his face.