I wagged my head. “Okay.… ”
“All you do is swallow a pill with a glass of water. Nanoscale devices in the pill called ‘smarticles’ diffuse through your body and attach themselves to your neural system. They’re able to modify signals flowing through your neurons—”
My attention began to wander again and the doctor could see it. I hated technical mumbo-jumbo.
He stopped and looked at me before continuing, “If you ever decide you don’t like or want it anymore, a simple verbal command deactivates the whole thing and it washes back out of your system and is excreted. It’s as simple as that.”
He smiled, but now I smiled back. I’d realized what it was that he was describing.
“And it’s been tested?” I asked.
This must be the new Atopian Cognix system we were pitching at the office. It wasn’t on the market yet, but I knew they were doing restricted trials. I brightened up. It looked like someone on top had given me the nod. Maybe I would win the account after all.
“The system has been in clinical trials for years already and is fairly well understood. I can’t give you the brand name, but that shouldn’t make any difference. Does it?”
I was sure he knew I knew what he was talking about, but he had to go through the motions anyway. I played along, knowing that all this would be reviewed by someone at Cognix as soon as I gave my consent.
“No, not really, but if you say it’ll help,” I replied, trying to conceal my glee. I wondered if he would be feeding me any of my own marketing spiel.
“One of the major causes of stress and anxiety is advertising.” He paused, knowing I was an advertising executive. “My recommendation is that you should use this system to remove advertising from your environment for a time; see how you feel.”
“Sure, that sounds like a good idea.”
He seemed unsure whether I was being sarcastic or not, but he could sense my mood lightening. “Should I write you a prescription?”
I nodded. “So I’ll have complete control over it?”
“Of course.”
A pause while we looked at each other.
“Are you ready?”
“What, now?”
“If you’re ready.… ”
Another pause, and then I nodded again. The mobile, still in my ear, chimed softly as it received the electronic prescription from the doctor’s automated assistant.
The doctor filled a small paper cup from a bottle of water in the cabinet behind his desk and handed it to me along with a small white tablet.
“Just swallow this. It includes a sedative to help keep you immobile during the initial data-gathering session.”
I took the pill and cup from him. He looked me in the eye.
“Olympia, do you give your consent to give your personal data to the program?”
I nodded once more.
“This includes background personal data, you understand?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“We won’t be able to activate it today. You’ll have to come back later in the week, but we can install it now.”
I studied the pill briefly, popped it into my mouth and washed it down, then handed the empty cup back to him.
“Follow me.” He stood up and led me out of his office and into a smaller room containing a human-shaped pod. It looked like one of those old tanning beds. “You’ll need to completely undress.”
I lazily complied. The sedative was already taking hold and my brain had started swimming peacefully. I lay down in the pod, and the gooey gel inside it conformed around my body.
“Now just relax.” He lowered the top of the enclosure.
It suctioned onto me, completely enveloping my body. In a dream-like state I felt tiny fingers probing and tickling me, lights and patterns flashing in my eyes, and sounds like some kind of hearing test. My muscles twitched as small electric shocks raced back and forth across my body. Sweet and salty liquids washed through my mouth as my nostrils filled with acrid smoke, and the whole thing cycled from hot to cold and back again.
I fell asleep and dreamt of flying above fields of golden daisies with sunshine filling a perfect golden sky. I dreamt of babies with blue eyes, alive but never living, their blue eyes filling blue seas with blue pain.
4
“Olympia.… ”
“Olympia,” came the voice again.
I was floating, peacefully alone, and some pestering thing had broken the tranquility. My brain tried to ignore it, but.…
“Olympia?”
I reluctantly opened my eyes to find an angel hovering above me, an angel that somehow reminded me of my cat, Mr. Tweedles. No wait, not an angel, it was a nurse. That’s right. A few days ago I’d installed that system, and I was back at the doctor’s office getting it activated. They’d sedated me again. Closing my eyes, I brought up a hand to rub my face, and then opened them and sighed irritably. “Yes?”
“Seems like someone needs a little more sleepy time,” laughed the nurse. “Come on, I’ll get you up and dressed.”
I propped myself up on my elbows and frowned at her. “How long was I out?”
“Hmm… ,” she considered. “About two hours, I’d say. Everything seems to be working perfectly. We just activated the system. Your proxxi will explain everything to you once you get home. I would have woken you sooner, but you seemed so peaceful.”
Shaking my head, I swung my legs off the side of the pod as I sat up, pushing off her attempts to help me. “I can take it from here, thank you very much.”
She looked at me and narrowed her eyes, but then her smile returned and she turned to go. “I’m going to bring you in to speak to the doctor before you leave—he needs to have a final word,” she said on her way out and closed the door behind her.
After a minute or two I finished getting dressed and opened the door to walk into the hallway. The nurse watched me from a distance, studying me. I stopped at the doctor’s office and half-hung my head inside.
“How do you feel?” he asked immediately, looking up from some paperwork. “Please, come in.”
“No, no, I’m fine. I mean, I just want to get going. I’ve got things to do. So just tell me quick, what do I need to know?”
He paused. “You have a very powerful new tool at your disposal. Be careful with it, and don’t activate any of the distributed consciousness features yet.”
“Distributed consciousness,” I snorted, looking back toward the nurse who’d positioned herself behind me in the hallway. “Where do they get these ideas?”
“If you want to talk with me,” the doctor continued patiently, “just say my name anytime of the day or night and you will be instantly patched through to me.”
“Great,” I replied. “Got it.”
“When you get home today, just say ‘pssi instructions’ and you will get all the information you need from your new proxxi.”
“Perfect.” I felt almost cheerful, sensing an imminent exit. “I’ll be in touch.”
With the tiniest of waves I bid him good-bye and marched off down the hallway and out the door, purposely ignoring the nurse who watched me the whole way out.
The air outside was crisp and fresh, and for the first time in ages I felt a surge of optimism. I should walk home—I could use a breath of fresh air.
I stopped to light a cigarette.
I’d decided that I hadn’t made a mistake with Alex. I needed to be alone for a while.
The heat of late summer was just winding down, and the air had a refreshing edge. I strode energetically along the sidewalks, enjoying myself, looking at everything around me.