As I sit in the passenger seat of Joe's car, I stare out the window, at the clouds in the sky. The way they pass overhead, swimming through the blue with the help of the wind, I'm reminded of Emery and her skydiving dreams.
The very same dreams that left her mind blank, like a clean slate. And me scribbling across the canvas with paint that didn't stick.
"If I fly high and fall, will you catch me?"
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and sigh as Joe stops at an intersection. Soft rock plays from his car's radio.
"She looked cool today," Joe says as he pats his hands against the steering wheel. He isn't looking at me when I turn my head. But I can see his smile as he continues, "A little tired, maybe, but almost like Emery."
I blink. Now he looks at me. Our eyes lock for a second. "She was tired?" I ask.
The streetlight turns green and the cars beside us move. Joe takes a moment before he presses his foot down on the gas. "I mean, it was like she didn't have the energy. I figured it was the mems upload? How'd that go last night?"
How did it go? Turning away, I run my finger along the top of my coffee cup. "I um..."
I want to lie to him, but knew it wouldn't help to hide the truth. Joe is my closest friend, my best friend, and he sees everything. And he has had that ability since we were kids.
With that thought, I laugh weakly and shake my head. My gaze peels away from the clouds and back at him as we reach the next light. "I didn't do it."
"What?" Joe is shocked. "Ray, why? That Angel Rogers was freaking perfect, man! She was Emery, almost identical."
"I know," I say quietly as I place my coffee cup in the holster at my side. "But—"
I thought she had left. I was scared. My only reaction was to hold her until she fell asleep in my arms.
"But what, Ray?" Joe's hands squeeze around his steering wheel. "Do you understand what we're doing? How much data are we stealing? If you don't use every cell, every ripped copy, I'll—"
"You'll what?" I bite my tongue as I try not to yell.
The car stops abruptly. I watch as Joe's shoulders lift slightly, just beneath his ears, as he sighs.
So do I. "Did you forget all the risks I'm taking to do this? You're not the only one liable here, Joe. Just one small slip up and it's all gone. Alt-life, mem-blocks, Em, everything goes out the fucking window."
Joe looks ahead, waiting for the light to change. I can see the emotion on his face. The edges of his eyes are bright, red. Are those tears?
"I'll always catch you, babe."
"I'm sorry," Joe says. "Just... no one cares about you two like I do. Shit, Morris gives the least of fucks and it's his fault." He pats his hands against the wheel again, but when the light changes to green, he sighs and forces his foot down on the gas. "I'm sorry," he repeats as he drives.
"It's fine," I say, looking ahead. The only thing I can do is accept his apology. What good will fighting do us? "I'm sorry, too."
"Yeah."
Joe and I look at each other once more, sharing the same smile we always gave each other in moments like this. Who knew the boy who always came to my rescue in elementary school was the same man who stayed by my side when I needed him most?
"Well, now can I show you why we needed to leave early?" Joe says, but before he turns into a wide parking lot beside two large buildings. I can't help but look over to the many windows stacked up high. From a distance, they resemble business suites. Up close, I know they're modern condos. My mouth parts slightly, in awe.
"Your next applicant is Elizabeth Kim," he says as he parks the car in the front parking lot. "She's twenty-three, a journalist, and has four appointments set for mem donation."
I look down at the tablet Joe hands me and glance at the face of the woman on the screen. She looks less like Emery than the last woman. But that isn't what catches my attention. It's the dates on her file. Almost a full week of donation appointments. Why?
"Who does this?" I ask Joe as he shuts off the car. "Four donations? Back to back?"
Joe shrugs. "I mean, I had those other girls picked, but when her application came in late last night, I knew I had to pick her. How easy will this be? Four nights, four appointments—"
I look down at the tablet again and scroll my fingers up the glass.
"That means you'll have four different sets of memories from the same person. Easy binding, yo. Em's going to be set for sure!"
I bite my lip. He is right. Normally, I would have to work hard to make sure mem-blocks match from different people, so I wouldn't confuse Em. There was a lot of deleting, syncing and reconnecting to make them look just right.
But if I have memories from one person and load each up in the right sequence? That's months, even years, of memories I can pull and save. I can fix Em before I know it.
A small laugh leaves me. I can't help my smile. "I think you did a good thing here, Joe," I say, looking into Joe's eyes. "Remind me to thank you later."
Joe, laughing, places his hands behind his head. "I like pizza. Deep dish. Lots of pepperoni."
I blink and shake my head, laughing louder. "You're dumb," I tell him.
"I won't settle for less."
|||
Elizabeth Kim. Age twenty-three. A journalist for our local broadcast news. I know that is what my tablet says, but walking up the steps of a clean, yet vintage building, says otherwise.
As I wait outside of room thirty-three, floor five, I stare at the smooth, red carpet bordered by wooden walls. From the outside, I expected to find a modern building, new and silver, like the rest of the city. Instead, I find myself within the halls pulled straight from The Shining. With my work bag and tablet close to my sides, I shift back, eyeing the halls on both ends.
Where were the dead twins?
The apartment door opens, fast, but not too fast. I don't have to move my whole face to see the beaming smile of a woman just an inch shorter than me. Her eyes, as bright as the sun, seem to devour me.
I gulp and face her fully. "Morning," I say to her, nodding once. "My name is Rayna Guzman. I'll be your Alt-life Agent."
"Oh, wonderful!" Her voice is smooth, soft, like silk. Yet, in the end, I hear her youth, like an eager child. As she moves aside to allow me room to enter, I side-step past her but watch her.
Joe wasn't kidding. She seems perfect already.
Her pale, slender hands shut the door once I'm inside her living room. She presses her bright, pink sweater closer around her waist. Her back is against the wall with one step. "I didn't think I'd see you so early. I thought I asked for night appointments."
Did she ask for night appointments?
Placing my bag and tablet on a small coffee table, I let my eyes scan her apartment. It's old, like the halls outside. The carpet beneath my shoes is just the same, too; red, dark, resembling an old murder scene.
But as I continue to look, I catch the single difference, a modern touch. Ahead, past the brown couches and their floral pillows, and let my sight fall on a tall, touch screen panel. The newest computer from Cryo-tech.
Its made of glass, perfectly placed beside her wall. Lights shimmer along its side. And at its base, barely hidden by the awful rug, is its power supply. I can almost hear its quiet hum of static in the air.
Where did she get this? Straightening, I observe it as I rub my hands together. Not even a city salary can afford this bad boy.
"Rayna?"
She says my name and I turn to look at her, forcing a smile.
"Is there a change to my appointment schedule?"
Right, appointments. I slide one hand up through my hair and the other down my chin. A nervous chuckle leaves me as I think of a lie. "Have you worked with Alt-life before, Miss Kim?" I ask her.
"Please, call me Elizabeth," she says, pushing off the wall. She takes just two steps towards me, but I feel as if she takes more. Suddenly, the air is warmer. Softer. Her eyes shimmer.
"Okay, Elizabeth." I nod and clear my throat, glancing back at the giant computer not many own. "I noticed you applied for four separate donation dates." I face her again, just as she takes another step. "Have you worked with us before?"
"No." Elizabeth's smile is bigger, brighter, and I'm not sure how that's possible. Is she human? "This is the first time I've contacted your company," she says.
"Right." I take a step back to keep the distance between us. Per protocol. An agent cannot seem to invade a client's space. Not that I think she will complain; her smiles seem eager. But I also cannot take the chance and risk it.
"Four donations, back to back, can be strenuous on the mind," I say truthfully. "While we appreciate your business and willingness to serve the general public, I—"
I want to lie to her, keep her safe. Copying that amount of data from any person can do severe damage if not careful. And while she smiles at me, nodding as if she understands, I want to tell her she doesn't. Because while I may copy her requested donations, I go deeper, for more.
For Em.
"I read each of the disclosures and all of the pamphlets." She waves her hands above her head and moves around me, huffing. "And I'm fully aware of the hiccups, errors, all that jazz."
I stiffen. And gulp. The pamphlets don't go into detail about the serious dangers at Alt-Life. Emery was amongst the few horrible memory implants, being the worst. The higher-ups in the company would never, ever, place her situation in print. What good would that be for the company?
So, no, Elizabeth, you don't know.
When I turn to follow her, she stops and faces me. The smile returns to her face as she brushes her hair away from her lips. I notice the pink polish on her nails, the same color as her sweater. Matching. I can't help but glance down at her socks.
Are you naturally so bubblegum?
"This is the only week I'm able to donate any kind of memories and I thought I can squeeze it all in." She purses her lips and cups her hands in front of her waist. "But at night, as I requested."
Right, night. I look up from her feet and meet her eyes again. There is something about the way she looks at me, the sound in her voice. It was familiar, yes, but not quite Emery.
Yet, who am I to say no to someone so eager? She is basically handing me the data to copy on every USB drive I own.
I smile. "Your night appointments are fine," I say as I reach for my tablets. "I simply wanted to make sure you knew the consequences of the back-to-backs."
"Oh, I know." She crosses the space between us and closes it. Her hand is suddenly on my arm. Her fingers press into my skin. Quickly, I look down at her and catch the scent of gentle perfume. Roses?
"If that's all you were checking on, do you need to stay for anything else?" she asks.
My tablet shakes in my hands as I shift back, away from her. "No, um, it's all I needed. For now."
Elizabeth giggles and drops down on her couch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her panel react to the sound. Is it voice-controlled? I want to examine it. Maybe tonight.
"Good," she says.
|||
A/N: Ah, Elizabeth Kim, so eager to transfer memory data. Good idea for Ray to accept it?