"Take a resolution. I dare you."
Freya's eyes glittered like blue ice in the reflection of the LED vending machine lights. Under the BiyoWarez: New Year, New You! banner was a simple screen to enter info and make payments. The resolution, picked by biometric scan and social media analysis, would be spooled out like old-fashioned stock market ticker tape.
Rob poked at the tiny aperture. His cautious fingertip dislodged a tiny scrap from the previous user's strip. Its single printed letter bled away as soon as paper touched wet pavement. Behind him and Freya, the last of the late-night party crowd stumbled to the metro station.
"Don't do it, man," one called out. "My cousin's next-door neighbour's sister..."
Whatever happened to the mythical sister was lost as the drunk's friends grabbed his arms and hauled.
"Come on, Jake, we're going to miss the last train." A girl wearing sodden fake fur gave him a derisive glance as the group hurried on.
"Well, now you have to do it. In honor of those who have gone before. The cousin's sister or whatever."
Freya's malicious persistence was wearing if nothing else. He peered at the instructions. One resolution, $19.99. Two for $30. He emptied his last twenty bucks until payday into the machine's electronic payment system and put his hand against the screen as prompted.
"I'm going to be eating Ramen for lunch every day this week," he complained as the machine flashed various multicolored lights across his palm.
"That's okay. You needed to go on a diet anyway. I have some leftover shakes from my last fat purge. You're welcome to them." Freya grinned and stepped away from the machine's little cubby to light up a cigarette and stare into the hazy night sky.
"You don't even need this machine to know what you should do for New Year's resolutions!" he called out to her. "Stop the cancer sticks. Give up the fad dieting."
"Yeah, yeah. But without the cancer sticks and the dieting, would I have this fine ass?"
After an eternity of waiting, the machine started printing out his resolution slip.
Cigarette finished, Freya turned back to him and threw her arms around his neck.
"Forget it. This is taking forever. Let's go back to my place and fuck."
Rob took a jerky step backward, his back against the machine.
"Um, Frey. Are you really that drunk? We've never had the hookup kind of relationship."
"Yeah. I am that drunk. And that bored. Come on." She ended her wheedle with a sloppy kiss on his left ear.
The machine gave another chirp, and a slot opened up. Insert wrist for behavior modification chip.
"I have to do the thing. Just a sec."
Rob shoved his hand into the machine as he tried to gather his scattered wits. Did he want to sleep with Freya? They'd been just friends for so long, it seemed unfathomable. She'd slept her way around their mutual friend group, through all their coworkers, and he suspected, the trio of guys who lived one floor down from him. He'd enjoyed being the friend. The one she didn't hook up with. He thought that they were special. That there was hope.
His wrist stung as the chip was inserted. Cool alcohol gel sealed the deal with an icy automated kiss.
"Are you done yet?" Freya called from the street edge. "I've called us a rideshare."
Why not? Maybe this was the start of something terrific between them. And with all that practice, surely she was great in bed. What better way to launch the New Year? The half-forgotten ticker tape tickled his wrist as he withdrew his hand from the slot. The door snapped shut. He tore the little strip loose and peered at it in the light of the machine.
"Dump Freya."
"What?" He reread the two damning words.
"Failure to comply with your resolution will result in extreme bodily pain," the machine chirped as it finished its process.
"Hurry up!" Freya called out.
"I'm on it!" The ticker tape slid from his fingers and onto the wet pavement. Message dissolved. Disregarded. A lancing pain shot up his arm.
"Zap," The tiny chip under his skin came to life.
He scratched at it, but it was too well rooted to dislodge without doing serious damage to his wrist.
"Freya, we've gotta talk."
The chip remained momentarily quiescent.
"This resolution chip thing is malfunctioning. I'll need to take a rain check."
Zap!
"I can't go home with you tonight."
"It's now or never, Rob." Freya leaned in and locked her lips on his.
ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!
He wasn't sure if it was her prolonged kiss or the pain from the implant making him shake. In the car, he got a brief reprieve as Freya catnapped. He scrolled through his phone, too sore from the implant's zapping and too keyed up from Freya's flirting to even consider sleep.
"BiyoWarez resolution implants can be fatal!" Under the sensational title, a tale spun out of woe and grief. The implants' too enthusiastic application of its neural shock feature was causing injury and even death. Current users were advised to use extreme caution and come into any BiyoWarez clinic for a software update first thing Monday.
Rob risked a peek at Freya, peacefully sleeping off her 4 gin and tonics, 3 beers, and one pear ale. Was it love? They had fun together, didn't they? He couldn't just quit her.
ZAP.
Even though it was usually at his expense, both emotionally and financially.
Soothing vibes leaked outward from the implant, flooding him with oxytocin.
If he didn't have sex with her, she'd mock him. She'd tell everyone they knew that he was a non-performer. He'd be ruined socially. Maybe if he tried really hard not to enjoy himself while they did it, the implant would give him a pass?
ZAP!
Physical death now, or social death later?
ZAP.
~end~