The late afternoon sun was a lemon slice floating in the Blue Hawaiian cocktail that was the sky overhead, perfectly warming the sand below the man's back. The island was the size of two large cars and shaped like a pineapple ring that had been bitten through on one side. Surrounding it was nothing but the sparkling blue of the ocean, waves gently lapping at the shore on a salty breeze. The sound of a ukulele plucking a simple melody melted into that of the tide, only interrupted by the occasional seagull call.
Scott slowly sat up as all of the world’s sounds slowly quietened, as if turned down by a hand on a cosmic volume slider. He tilted his head back and flinched slightly, awaiting the loud interruption. "Uh-oh, it looks like something has gone wrong with your firmware" The disembodied voice was warm, but perfectly even in an offensively inoffensive way. "Take a break while we fix that for you. You'll be up and running in no time." Scott silently mouthed along with the feminine voice, his mouth stretched wide in a mockery of a smile. "Restoring from your latest backup..." He moved his head from left to right, counting the seconds in his head with each movement.
Five... Four... Three... Two... One...
"Oh no! There seems to be an issue with your backup file. Downloading firmware from Flexicorp servers…"
Five... Four... Three... Two... One...
"We can’t reach the Flexicorp servers right now. We'll try to download the update again later. Until then, enjoy this tropical vacation, on us!". Scott closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he screamed.
Scott sprang to his feet swearing as he swung a sandaled foot towards the ground. Smashing into a bump in the sand, he sent a spray of white particles across the island, which turned into a dust cloud and dissipated. He stood perfectly still, panting, fists trembling as he tried to calm down. Slowly, the music and sound of the waves began to their normal volume level. Sighing, his bleak stare came to rest on the bump in the sand, which had immediately repaired the hole his foot had gouged moments ago. Can’t even make a sandcastle he thought as he started to pace between the islands only two landmarks: a blue striped deck chair and a palm tree, complete with a clutch of coconuts hanging below its topmost fronds. The island reminded Scott of the desktop wallpaper his first PC had come loaded with. In a way, he supposed, the island was just another wallpaper.
Scott had never been one to follow trends in technology. He had used an old smartphone for years after most of the world had switched to ocular implants. He had chosen to drive his own car until the automatic steering mandate had been issued. He even chose to go for walks in nature, forsaking the synth-gyms programs that could be loaded in any augmented reality smart treadmill. The Flexi EvoSystem had seemed different, though. Scott still remembered lining up for the procedure. The mix of dread and anticipation as he inched forward in the queue, his gut churning as if a giant fork was twirling his intestines like spaghetti. The sensation of his throat closing, counting backwards from 10 as he fought to keep his eyelids open. 10… 9… 8… The corners of his mouth aching as he tried to stop grinning, flexing his fingers and feeling the power of the steel and synthetic muscle beneath the skin, fused to his flesh to give him the grip strength of a Gorilla. With EvoSystem, his body had become impossibly strong, but to him that just a nice add-on. The real appeal was in the mental enhancements. He had gained the ability to generate and explore virtual environments on a whim. He could access any piece of information or media with a thought. Thanks to a tiny chip at the base of his skull, he’d become an overnight polymath and top-level athlete. Thanks to Flexicorp’s worldwide satellite network, he was constantly getting updates to “Worldwide, my baseplate.” Scott spat as he whirled around in front of the deck chair, pausing before he stepped towards the deck chair once more.
As he paced, Scott’s eyes darted infrequently to the bottom left corner of peripheral vision. Each time they did, he would immediately look in the opposite direction. It was no different than when he had been in school, avoiding eye contact with the teacher to escape answering a difficult question. Some instinct told him that the easiest way to avoid an inconvenient truth was to not acknowledge it, whether it was something he didn’t know or something he didn’t want to know. Regardless, just as he had always found himself looking back at the teacher to see if they had found another target, his gaze kept returning to the set of four green glowing numerals that always persisted in the corner of his gaze: the time.
Scott was aware of the time; he couldn’t help it. Though his only clock was the small digital display in the corner of his vision, he could swear that he heard ticking whenever he thought about it. Bug, feature or psychosis? What difference when you’re living in a computer in your head? The sound was heavy and mechanical, as if it belonged to an old grandfather clock, each stoke bringing its spring closer to unwinding. 7:PM, April 7th... That means I’ve been here for eight – no, nine days and three hours. I have to check.
“System…” Scott balled his fist, looking up at the sun as he addressed it. It wasn’t special in any way, hanging eternally at 5:00, just below sunset. He could give commands to the tree, the chair, a grain of sand or nothing in particular and the EvoSytem would still recognise them. He could think them if he wanted, and it would still work. He always talked to the sun, though. If he could put a face to the system he had someone to blame, even if that face wasn’t a face. “Exit sim-” He cut himself off “-Load environment: Bookstore.” He waited for the reply, but there wasn’t a glimmer of hope on his face.
“Unable to generate environment: Bookstore. System error detected”
“Load environment: Swamp. Load Environment: Fried Chicken Shop. Load Environment: Forest! Loadenvironment: Office! Loadenvironmenthome!”
The system repeated itself, cutting itself short with each new request.
“Unable to – Unable to – Unab- Un – Unable to generate environment”
“Exit simulation”
Scott didn’t inhale as his eyes opened. The wind was cold against his face. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. His real body was stuck mid-step. His muscles wouldn’t respond, but his eyes could move. The leaves, the trees, the old scraps of the metal sign that had got his attention seven days ago. For upgrades that suit all lifestyles, choose Flexicorp! He could almost see the walking trail. Almost. If he rolled his eyes down, he could see the shape of his arm. It was too fuzzy to make out any details, but he could make shapes in three colours: red, silver and greying ivory. His lungs were screaming for breath, but he couldn’t move his mouth. He inhaled through his nose. He smelled rot.
Story by DREMatt.