Chapter 16
Thank Zorg they answer on the first ring. “How’d it go?” Her m-volt delivers Lessa’s voice into her mind as if they spoke the question aloud while in the same room.
“They took him!” she shrieks, both mentally and audibly, because sometimes thinking the words alone isn’t enough.
“I need your help,” she says, ignoring their question. “We have to read the documents. I sent them to you.”
“When?” they ask.
“Just now!” K8 winces at her own electrified tone. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. Please help me.”
As K8 waits for Lessa to get the email, she tries to scan the text of the contract through glassy eyes.
The words become too blurry before she even gets through the first paragraph.
Why is the urge to cry her immediate irrational reaction to adversity?
Stupid hormones. She can’t even remember the last time she took a BalanceMe tablet.
“Did you get it?” She needs them to get it, open it, and tell her what it says. She needs them to find a loophole. Lessa is an expert at interpreting modern legalese, which incorporates the six major languages, so agreements only require one contract. It’s complicated, but Lessa is a genius.
“I’m reading it now. Calm down and tell me what happened,” they say.
So K8 does. She takes a deep breath, then tells Lessa every horrifying detail.
With each word, her guilt weighs her down a little more, like it has decided to make her shoulders its perch.
“It’s my fault. If I didn’t point out his eye color, they wouldn’t have taken him.
But I thought it would help because they would have figured it out, eventually.
I thought it made it seem like I knew about his quirky defects, but that didn’t mean he had any memories.
I was trying to distract them, but I doomed him.
And when they recycle him, it’ll be my fault.
Oh Zorg, Les, does this make me a murderer? Do you think it hurts?”
Lessa is quiet for a moment. “K8, seriously. I understand your reasoning. I think you did the right thing. They probably want to run a few lab tests to be safe. Since you didn’t turn him in and he isn’t malfunctioning according to the contract’s definitions, it appears you still have rights to him. ”
“Okay, good. I only need to be patient and wait it out.” K8 leans back in her chair, trying to feel relieved.
“Precisely. James won’t do anything to get himself killed. Jett says your man is too self-important to do that.”
“He’s not my man.” Still, K8 considers what they said. Jett is right. James is one of the most self-important people she’s ever met. And as he would be quick to point out, she lives in the future where one’s every whim is catered to.
But when he pleaded with her and kissed her neck while the inspectors were on the other side of the door, he was different. And when he tried to get her to talk about her feelings and she brushed him off. Again, different. “He’s more than one thing.”
“Uh oh . . .” Lessa’s tone is skeptical, like they already suspect where this conversation is heading.
But K8 breezes right by. “I got eager to end the inspection. I tried to get them out the door, then one of them propositioned me—while he was working. It was so uncomfortable. Can you imagine?”
Lessa scoffs. “Sounds like he’s due for a Respectful and Considerate Conduct Course.”
“Agreed. James could tell I felt uncomfortable, and he got defensive. He let me hide against his side. It surprised me, but it felt good. Is that weird?”
“I don’t know. Ten percent decent person does not make him a suitable man, if that’s what you’re thinking. He made you cry, remember?” Lessa’s tone is enough to convey their disapproval, even without their forthright words.
K8 groans. “I know. But I think acting so protective of me is what ultimately made them ask to take him. Maybe it wasn’t my fault?”
“It wasn’t,” Lessa says definitively. “What’d you say when they asked?”
“I said, ‘Of course,’ then prayed to Zorg that James didn’t do anything stupid. He didn’t, though. He cheerfully played along. Les, I was freaking out. When he followed them to the door, the creepy inspector made up this stupid thing about how a good manupartner would kiss me before he left.”
“And?” Lessa prods.
“And . . . It’s kind of a blur. He seemed like he didn’t want to, which made me think he was still being protective.
Like he didn’t want to kiss me without asking if I was okay with it, because he whispered, ‘I’m sorry.
’ But now that I’ve had time to think about it, he kissed my neck before the inspectors got there, without asking. ”
“Sounds like he was trying to save his own skin,” Lessa observes.
“I know. But I was so caught up in the moment, I promised him I’d find a way to save him.” K8 sits there for a moment, contemplating her options, as a numb sensation crawls up from her fingers and toes to take root in her chest. Finally, she says, “Then he kissed me.”
“Yes, that was the ruse,” Lessa agrees.
“No, Les. He really kissed me. It wasn’t performative or quick or cold. It was . . . well, I don’t really know what it was, but it wasn’t nothing. And now he’s gone. And I don’t know how to keep my promise to save him.”
“Wait, I know you want to help him survive from an ethical standpoint, but it doesn’t sound as if you actually like him.”
K8’s stiff forehead is trying its hardest to wrinkle.
“I don’t.” And she doesn’t. She decided that two days ago.
But the thing is, she’s attracted to him.
Now that he’s kissed her and her heart her mind is fabricating its own ideas about how she feels what she thinks about him.
Despite her brain telling her she doesn’t like him.
It’s highly illogical—what a conundrum for a scientist. “I know he only kissed me because the situation forced him. But I still have to help him. What do I do?”
In her receiver she hears Lessa click, click, clicking. “Hold on,” they say.
As she holds on, she paces, trying to work out the frozen feeling in her limbs. “Lessa?” she prompts. “I’m still holding on.”
“I sent you something.” The gravity in their voice makes her stomach clench.
She rushes over to the living room table, collecting the VR headset. Once it’s on, she thinks the command: Open message. It’s a Flash News article. The headline reads:
brEAKING: GROW SEARCHES FOR MISSING MANUPARTNER.
K8’s throat clenches tight. This can’t be good.
Missing manupartner reported at 15:30.
K8 thinks the command: Time check. The system speaks into her ear: 15:47. How much time has elapsed since James left? When did the inspectors arrive? They were late, she remembers, but James was watching the time so intently for both of them that she didn’t bother. She reads on.
The unit is considered unstable and may be dangerous. Do not approach suspicious persons claiming to be from the past under any circumstances. Report any unusual encounters to the authorities immediately.
This report comes after GROW issued a Recall Notice claiming that some manupartners may retain embedded memories from their DNA origin vectors. NHOS citizens should report any unusual activity to authorities immediately.
GROW spokesperson states, “Leadership at GROW is working around the clock to swiftly resolve this minor incident. Citizens have no reason to fear their manupartner. If you have not received a notice, your unit is not at risk. This recall only impacts a minuscule batch of units, and inspectors are already in the field assessing units affected. Please cooperate with authorities if your unit is assessed to be faulty. GROW places the best interests of NHOS citizens at the forefront of every decision we make. We will continue to provide you with the most realistic manupartner experience for years to come.”
We reached out to several other manupartner producers for comment, and only CHOICElover owner Res6 provided a statement: “To my knowledge, this serious problem is isolated to GROW as a result of the release of their Realer Than Real production line. Often, a business may look to gain an edge over their competition with a product advancement, but it seems the leadership at GROW put this line out before they properly tested it. If consumers are concerned about the safety of selecting a GROW manupartner, CHOICElover will be here to provide the most premium original manupartner experience their unicoin can buy.”
Clearly, Res6 saw an opportunity to gain market share.
James isn’t dangerous. Is he? Did he kill the inspectors to escape?
She figures he could. And does that mean she’s on the run now too?
She watches too many thrillers. No, surely, he isn’t that reckless.
They’d be caught by nightfall. She isn’t built for a life of crime, for Zorg’s sake!
“Did you read it?” Lessa asks. When she doesn’t say a word, they press, “K8?” Then, “I’m coming over.”
Lessa and K8 rush to the elevator, which opens to reveal Jett. They must have called him on their way over.
“Negative-K8!” he says, consolingly, and she can’t help but chuckle at his clever yet poorly timed nickname. “Lessa told me what happened. Where do you think he went?”
“I have no idea. But we need to search for him. If they find him before we do, they’ll . . .” K8 can’t say it.
“They wouldn’t,” Jett says.
Lessa is shaking their head. “I’m afraid she’s right. Stupid man. Before she had rights to him, but now, especially if he’s assaulted an inspector—”
“K8’s right. We need to start searching,” Jett suggests, cutting Lessa off before they can say any more damning words.
K8 and Lessa nod their agreement. “This’ll be fun.
We’re like detectives. Lessa, you start on the top floor.
K8, you take the floors with public areas.
I’ll start at two.” Jett squeezes her hand reassuringly. “We’ll find him.”
Lessa pulls her into an embrace. “Worrying is going to give you wrinkles.”
K8 tries not to giggle, but they are so ridiculous it’s impossible.
Then they separate. K8 tackles the ground floor first, pacing the expansive space, trying not to look as if she’s searching for anyone.
An hour later, when she makes it to the twenty-fifth-floor fitness park, she’s surprised no one has reported that she’s the suspicious person.
Because with her increasing panic, the way she’s wandering around with her darting stare, she’s certain she looks suspicious.
She should have put on her black air control officer uniform.
At least then she might appear official.
Perhaps a drink would help with her rising anxiety. And it would be rude not to offer her FRIENDS one after they’ve been searching so diligently on her behalf. She taps her m-volt to activate it, then thinks the command: Message Lessa and Jett, Meet me at Tower Bar.
A quick elevator ride takes her to the top floor.
The doors open to the expansive lobby. To her right, penthouse units hover over the congested city.
The left side hosts the bar and a sad excuse for a nightclub.
Lessa is already there and halfway through a Bizzy-bee when she slides into the chair beside them. Jett is only a moment behind her.
“Great idea,” he says as Lessa slides them both a preordered drink.
K8 stirs the cocktail with the little metal stick. “I’m surprised we didn’t find him yet.”
“I know. I spoke with the section manager in the lobby on the first floor and she said it’s been quiet all afternoon. Do you think they took him to another tower before he escaped?” Jett rattles the ice in his glass as he looks over the rim.
“They must have. I made it through each shop and restaurant in my search.” K8’s eyes go wide as her stomach grumbles.
Then Lessa’s hand is in the air to flag down the bartender. “Some peppered pastry twists and the dressy eggs, please.” They turn to K8. “Can’t focus on searching if you’re hungry.”
What’s a man’s life when compared to dinner? They’re right, though. She is hungry.
The bartender delivers the food and another Bizzy-bee each. K8 is about to suggest they recommence the search, when Lessa gives a weary sigh. As if he knows what she’s going to say, Jett averts his gaze before he finally asks, “Won’t he try to go back to your unit?”
K8 pauses mid-sip. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Jett’s device pings. He lifts it, scanning the message. “I know someone who works for the Information Distribution System. I asked them to message if anything comes through.”
K8 and Lessa lean closer.
Jett lowers his voice to a whisper. “They found her.”
What? It was a her? As in a woman. So, not James?
Not James. Not James. This is good, right?
Or bad. If they returned him like they promised, he would have been back to her unit hours ago.
Oh Zephyr, what was she doing running around like an unhinged person?
Sitting at the bar worrying the night away.
She always knew a manupartner would be nothing but trouble.
“The runaway was a woman?” Lessa asks.
“The initial report didn’t say. What a strange and misleading coincidence,” Jett says, then taps his device, presumably responding to his IDS contact.
“That might have been helpful to know earlier,” Lessa complains.
“I don’t think they knew, Stress-Les. GROW seems to be trying to make light of this,” Jett says.
And it’s true. The casual pretense of the press release surprised her. Retained memories is a gross understatement. GROW is bringing people from the past back to life. It’s unprecedented.
Lessa sighs, slinging an arm around K8’s shoulders. “What are you going to do now?”
What is she going to do? “I guess go back to my unit and hope James shows up.”
As the trio separate, Jett gives her a hug, saying he’s going to get more food at a higher quality establishment, but then he’ll be available afterward if she needs to talk.
Then K8 goes back downstairs to her unit, a little buzzed and, of course, alone.