January Thaw (Romance Short Story)

Part 1: Conversation with a VOP

"I lost my job because I stopped taking anti-aging drugs," Carolyn said. A head and shoulder image of her grandson stared at her from a computer made to appear like an antique television from the Twentieth Century. She shifted on the edge of her wicker chair as the gap of silence in their conversation lengthened.

Her grandson murmured something and Carolyn realized he had been speaking for some time. She woke from a daydream of the past, so long ago now, where she had taught the boy how to cut up apples. Cutting into grainy, white flesh, the sweet tangy smell as the clear juice ran down their hand. No matter how much Carolyn tried she could not get used to the fact that she was speaking to a computer-generated version of her grandson, programmed to respond like him in every way. When was he last time she had seen her grandson in person? Thirty years at least.

Whoever invented these virtual online personalities you could talk with like they were your relatives should be forced to take a long walk off a short pier. They had a cutesy name like "voping" or some such nonsense. Times were getting so you couldn't speak to a real person anymore. When was the last time she had spoken with anyone in the family except through these damned machines? How could the need for human contact, even if just a disembodied voice, seem so superfluous to the young?

"Say again," she asked the vop.

"I said, 'Why did you stop your anagathic treatments? Are the doctors giving you any trouble?'"

"No, no trouble.  They want me to go back on the Eternity drugs. When you get to be my age, you start looking at things a little different. I've had a good run and now I want to live, grow old and die.  Like people used to."

"I see."

"Can't you say something besides, 'I see'?" Carolyn took a deep breath.

Her grandson's face went blank for about half a minute.  The system probably didn't like her question.  A year ago vops often gave literal responses to questions the app had a problem with.  Sarcasm was especially problematic, followed by TOS violations.  

"Yes. I can ask two questions for the price of one," he said. "First, I thought everyone got the drug in utero so they didn't have to worry about taking it later on? I guess that isn't really a question," and after another long pause, "So why did they fire you?"

Carolyn had to admit that software had gotten better. "I was part of the original group and the oldest subject when the immortality tests started about a hundred years ago. Drug companies thought they were developing a cure for cancer, at least in the beginning. It ended badly because a lot of peopled died before the experiments with fetuses were successful.  This was all secret stuff, but don't get your panties in a bunch.  The NDA was up last year."

Carolyn stopped.  Never in a million years would she use a phrase like "panties in a bunch" with her grandson.  Her real grandson that is.     

He chuckled. Carolyn wasn't sure about what. "Panties" was probably a keyword that triggered a humorous response from her grandson's vop. She felt an urge to experiment with saying panties in various ways and contexts to see how the software would respond. Carolyn paused, struggling to get her head back in the conversation.  

"Anyway, I was one of the lucky ones. I've never thought about it, but I could be the oldest person in the world," she said.

"Well, at least you can still take the drug and not age, Gram. I know it's expensive but the Health Service picks up most it don't they? So why'd they fire you?"

"Administration thought my getting older would disturb the children. I don't know why. They only ever saw me online anyway. If I didn't have a union, they probably would have replaced me with a sim by now. Guess I've had a good run."

"People don't waste away right before your eyes, Gram."

Carolyn didn't think of herself as "wasting away." True, there were crow's feet at the corners of her eyes now and those laugh lines on either side of her mouth had deepened in the five years since she stopped the pills, but Carolyn had always taken care of herself and stayed not simply trim but positively athletic with tennis and golf in the summer, and skiing in the winter. She had let her hair go iron-gray with a dusting of white. Yet it was still thick and reached nearly to her low back and the four men, who had come and gone out of her life with the rolling of decades, loved running their hands through her hair. True, she had worn out three sets of knees and had her left elbow regrown five years ago but that was wear and not rust. The old girl had a lot of life left in her yet.

"Gram, if you want to, uh ... if you decide, you know, they have clinics for that. It's all painless and dignified. They put you in any world you want and you don't feel a thing," he said. "I'm not saying you should do that. I think you should go back on Eternity and get some counseling or something. Maybe a new job? Do you need money?" Carolyn's grandson gamboled through this last bit and ended with a mirthless, high-pitched laugh.

That sounded like him, but they hadn't figured out laughs yet.

"I'm not sure how we got onto my problems but you're crazy if you think I want to lie down and die. I'm a hundred and sixty-two years old and with a bit of luck I can easily expect another forty or fifty years with all that doctors can do. Two hundred years of life is enough!" Carolyn made an effort to take the ice out of her voice. She was tired. "So tell me what you're doing."

She listened to the virtual online personality drone on about his job as an advertising executive for Pepsi and how they were working on a campaign to gain market share on Titan, which was where his boyfriends lived. Carolyn resisted a growing urge to say something cruel. She did not want to hurt the man behind the machine. He was a good boy who programmed his vop to leave short messages most holidays and occasionally on her birthday. What more could you ask then that? The rest of her family had drifted away one by one over the space of years, which was perfectly reasonable.