by Ian Williams
“I guess that’ll have to do,” Daniel said, not appearing in the mood to argue anymore.
With everything collected and all their tools accounted for, the two of them continued down the stairs and to the front door. Neither of them wanted to hang around any longer than necessary, not least because of a tiny amount of guilt they were both feeling after causing damage to another’s home. So after Graham had retrieved his own bag and slung it over his shoulder, they bid Daniel a fond – and thankful – farewell.
“That nearly went south,” Elliot said the moment Daniel shut the door behind them.
Graham took in a refreshing breath of evening air and let it out slowly. As he was about to reply he spotted a few of the houses were lit up more than before. It took him a moment to realise why. Most of the residents down this particularly tidy street had stepped outside to see what on Earth had been happening at the Watson family’s home.
“I think we may have made a nuisance of ourselves this time,” Graham said, ignoring the stares.
From there they continued in silence until reaching the end of the street, where a small set of stairs led up to the Mag-Lev Station.
No-one drove wheeled cars in the cities anymore. Instead, a network of automatic and Magnetically Levitated cars had been installed during the early 2040’s, and the vehicles hovered above thick metal tracks running underneath. The network made use of the existing roads within the city, except those in small streets; by contrast these had been left off the network entirely. Anywhere the Mag-Lev line did not go in the city was still close enough for people to walk to it.
At this time in the evening Graham expected no queues for a car and was grateful to see he was right. “Fancy a pint?” he asked as they waited.
“Sure. I’ll sort this thing out later,” Elliot said, gesturing to the Cage in his bag. “Just one.”
“You’ll never reach my level of fitness on one pint a day.”
“Funny.” As a car slowed and stopped automatically in front of them, Elliot turned to speak before entering. “You did scream like a girl though,” he added.
The car that stopped was tall enough to walk into upright; no ducking was needed at all. They each took a seat and waited, ready to be taken away into the night.
Graham looked out to the street lights as their car set off automatically. Normally the Mag-Lev system would know to take them both home, but they had different ideas tonight. And as a result of the snooping nature of every device they wore or carried, they were already heading to their new destination unprompted. The ever present Simova system had listened in on their conversation and had plotted them a new route, straight to the Nag’s Head – locally referred to as… the local. Although it was in fact just a national franchise designed to give the impression of a ‘local’.
Chapter 2
Do you kill bad computers, Daddy?
The next morning Graham awoke to the sound of his six-year-old-daughter, Alex, shouting at the top of her voice. It was far from the best of wake-up alarms. Still, it had at least jolted him out of an ever deepening dream. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and peered tentatively toward the hall. The argument was still just as loud as before.
“I’m not getting dressed,” Alex said with a stamp of her feet that echoed down the hall.
“Stop it,” Graham’s wife, Jane, said back. “Get dressed or you won’t go to Stephanie’s house on Sunday.”
At the mention of a spoiled weekend, the argument was stunted – to Graham’s delight. The three or four pints he rushed down the night before now made every sound seem much louder than he knew they really were. The higher the pitch of the disturbance, the more his eardrums felt like they were being pricked with a tiny pin.
By the time he had returned home the night before everyone had already gone to bed. So he had immediately joined them. Except sleep had failed to clear much of the mugginess that had developed since his last pint. At thirty-three he was finding it much harder withstanding alcohol than he had at twenty-three, however much he tried to deny it.
He rolled onto his side and slowly pushed himself up with all the grace of a rising zombie. Once up he swung his legs around and allowed his feet to land on the carpet, followed by a stretch and a yawn before he was then ready to get up.
The outside world had already started to invade his home in varying different ways. Through his blinds shone a scattering of sunlight that cast a pattern of lines on the floor and up the side of his bed. Each passing Mag-Lev Car – which at this time in the morning meant quite a few – sent a whooshing noise across his window that also buffeted it with a sudden flow of air. After the glass had finished rattling, usually only a second or two later, the air carried on until it became entangled with a nearby tree. It was the same each morning and it served as a reminder of how much he wished they could move to somewhere more sedate.
“Hurry up, Graham, you’re going to be late,” Jane called out.
Graham took the advice and forced himself up and into the bathroom. The water began to run from the sink tap as soon as he entered the room and the toilet seat lifted itself open, as per his usual behaviour. When the water had finished filling the sink, the automatic home management system said, “Your water is ready, Mr. Denehey. You may begin your morning ablutions.”
Once finished pissing, slightly too close to the rim of the toilet, he turned to the sink and obliged, washing as quickly as he considered hygienically acceptable. Soon afterwards he grabbed a new work shirt from his draw and slid it on as he searched for his trousers. When that proved unsuccessful he walked into the lounge, even though he was certain he had dropped them by their bed the night before.
“Jane?” Graham said, combing his brown hair flat with the palms of his hand.
“Your trousers are on the sofa,” she said, like she had read his mind. Each of her hands were occupied as she spoke; in her right was a slice of toast held next to the side of her mouth, while her left hand concentrated on typing on a small screen sat perched on her knee.
“Great, thanks,” Graham said.
“You were late last night.”
“Yeah, sorry. Went to the pub with Elliot,” he said while sitting down to finish dressing. “We had a shit job last thing, really needed to unwind.”
“Any excuse, hey,” Jane said with a smile. She took a small bite of her toast and then returned it to the same position, hovering an inch from her mouth. “Breakfast?”
Graham shook his head. “No time. I’ve got to get in earlier today, smashed my work tablet yesterday. So I’ve got to beg for a new one from Aaron.”
“OK, but make sure you eat at some point this morning.”
Always worrying, Graham thought. They had been married for eight years and he could still never get used to how much she always worried about his health. If anything, she considered it more than he did. He had cut down on the drinking drastically during those eight years, but every now and again he would indulge a little too much. Not that he had anyone else to blame for his slightly tight shirt than himself.
The sound of a small person’s footsteps carried down the hall and echoed into the lounge. When Alex rushed around the corner and spotted Graham sat on the sofa, she immediately sped up and then launched herself into his lap. Her elbow nearly winded him as she landed with an unexpected amount of force. While he enjoyed her enthusiasm, he enjoyed the mouthful of her frizzy black hair as her head slapped against his chest less so. The embrace forced a grunt to escape from him.
“Daddy?” she said.
“Yes Alex?” Graham replied, ready to say no to whatever new toy she was probably about to ask he buy her.
“What’s your job?”
The question took him by complete surprise since she had never asked him this before. He held her at arm’s length to see the expression on her face. Her large blue eyes stared back at him, awaiting his answer. She did not ask him something for the sake of it, she was genuinely curious. “Why do you ask?” he said.
“Well
, Stephanie said her Daddy is a policeman. What are you?”
“It’s complicated, Pumpkin.”
Graham picked Alex up and held her on his hip as he judged exactly how honest to be with her. If he made up some simplified description of his job he was sure she still would not understand, yet the truth would be equally as daunting for a six-year-old.
“Daddy fixes things, honey,” Jane interrupted.
“Yeah, I fix things.” Graham felt embarrassed to have been stumped by the question. His wife knew the correct language to use when explaining things to Alex. He never did. Things always seemed a little harsh to him, at least for a child to understand. The world was full of bad people and bad systems, not least the one he worked for. He knew hardly anything about the Simova Company, other than how little they cared about the disruption these MARC things caused.
He remembered what his last customer, Daniel, said when asking why Simova had failed to permanently stop these corruptions from happening. As always, Graham had settled on the same answer: money. It was probably more expensive to remedy once and for all than they were willing to spend. Of course, his job existed because of this, so it only concerned him a small amount.
“Stephanie said that her Daddy said you kill bad computers. Do you kill bad computers, Daddy?” Alex said.
“What. No. Well, sort of.” Graham once again struggled to find the right words.
“That’s enough.” Jane took Alex from him and placed her lightly on the ground. “Now, go get your school bag,” she said, along with a gentle pat on their daughter’s behind. “We’re leaving in a minute.”
Alex disappeared only to return before Graham could say a word, with her bag hanging from her shoulder, just like Jane held hers. The similarity brought a smile to Graham’s face; she always tried to copy people, especially her mother.
“Right, we’re off,” Jane said. While walking down the hall she began to pat her hair down to lessen the excessive volume of it – she had passed the burden of large hair on to Alex. When getting the right shape proved too difficult, she turned and faced the wall. Out of the floral style pattern that decorated the wall popped her own reflexion – really just a video feed automatically relayed back to her.
“Let me grab my bag and I’ll follow you both out,” Graham said after having been temporarily distracted by Jane’s grooming. He found his work bag behind the sofa and quickly jogged toward the door, which Jane was holding open with an outstretched arm for Alex to walk under.
The outside air carried a slight chill, and with the passing Mag-Lev traffic still shooting by every other second it was moving with a whipping-like motion. When another car zoomed along the track, less than ten metres from Graham’s home, he felt the air rush by.
He followed Jane and Alex along the external walkway. They all greeted a few of their neighbours as they headed for the stairs at the end. The apartment building they lived in was more than fifty floors high. Luckily they lived on the second floor, so the stairs were the sensible option. At this time in the morning the lifts were always packed with people, sometimes even with queues outside.
Down the stairs and to the right was an ugly and cold looking steel staircase that led up to the Mag-Lev system. He always found this process a little irritating since their apartment resided at the same height as the Mag-Lev track; just unnecessary exercise, he thought.
Jane held Alex’s hand as they began up the steps to the Mag-Lev station, joined by a line of people following closely behind. Her feet almost skipped as she took the steps with ease, which Alex enjoyed with a giggle. At the top, Jane turned to Graham and said, “Are you coming straight home tonight?”
“Yes, why?”
“I’m going to Hannah’s. I told you yesterday.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he lied. “I should be done by five today.”
“Great.”
At the top of the stairs was the platform running around fifty metres in length; plenty of room for the mass of people all waiting for a car. Mornings were the only time Graham found he usually had to wait for transport. However clever the Simova system was, it still could not account for a lack of available cars and an abundance of impatient people.
Thankfully they only faced a short wait. After only five minutes or so the crowd was already thinning, until Graham and his family were finally at the front. When an empty car pulled into the lay-by track and its doors dutifully opened, Jane kissed Graham on the cheek and ushered Alex inside. The doors then shut and Graham was left waving as it pulled away. He saw Alex kneeling on her seat and waving back at him as the pod-like vehicle sped off.
The next car was his, and it had arrived with enough time to spare to call ahead about the broken tablet. He expected to get a good telling off about this.
* * *
“Do you know how much these things cost us?” Aaron said. His eyes glared at Graham as he stood offering over the remaining pieces of his smashed device.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Aaron, it slipped out of my hand and then broke.” Graham decided it would be better not to mention he had trodden on it too; best not piss him off any more than necessary, he thought.
He looked around the office and saw the odd person sniggering under their breath. Aaron, renowned for his irritable personality, was not one of them. His lack of patience with others had become a daily highlight for some of the staff, especially when he berated clumsy workers.
Aaron took the pieces of the broken tablet, but not before he made his annoyance understood by means of holding his gaze on Graham for longer than necessary. He inspected the damaged device as though looking for clues. Thankfully he would not get any, other than that it was indeed in need of replacing. “Fine,” he said, placing the pieces neatly on his desk. “Pick it up on your way out. Please try not to destroy this one, or I’ll dock your pay next time.”
It all felt deceptively easy to Graham. There had been no prolonged questioning this time, not even a patronising reminder of the correct way to not destroy Simova property. Just a quick swipe of the screen and it was done.
“Thanks,” Graham said. He made certain not to give Aaron a chance to speak again and instead walked away with an enthusiastic – and slightly sarcastic – wave.
With the authorisation having been granted, Graham just had to grab the replacement by the front desk. He passed others arriving for work, most of who totally ignored him. Those that smiled or nodded were his fellow corruption chasers, who saw an equal, or even a kindred spirit.
He had not seen Elliot arrive yet, so expected to find him waiting outside while chewing another of his energy-bars and nervously fidgeting on the spot. At the desk he peered through the double doors, but there was no sign of him. If Elliot were there then those entering would be stopping to send a cautious look to him; he had no time for pleasantries and usually just stared back. His upper-arm girth and shoulder mass led most to assume he was aggressive, and to some degree they were right. But Graham knew he was someone to warm to over time. He had had enough time to do so, having known him since secondary school at the age of fifteen.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked after having dealt with the man before Graham.
“Yes, I’ve got a new tablet waiting for me.”
The woman swivelled her seat around and back in one move to check the shelf behind. She quickly found it and then returned to the desk, again with one swift push in the other direction. “Here you go,” she said, handing it over.
She moved on to the next person before he could even thank her. Remaining any longer meant he would only be taking up precious space in the foyer. So he decided to get the device set up outside while he waited for Elliot, who was evidently late today.
The double doors opened with a swish, followed by a flow of fresh air. He was quickly finding it increasingly stuffy in the office anyway; too many walls all leaning in on him. Besides, he spent most of his days in the outside air, so he naturally preferred it to an air-conditioned buil
ding.
While fumbling with his new tablet he noticed how little he actually had to do with it. As soon as his fingers touched it, the necessary programs and personal details had been added. The same went for every single screen in the city; as soon as you touched it, it began working for you. In fact he had even worked on a washing machine screen once, when his own tablet had been out of reach.
The technological automation and system flexibility that he and everyone in the city enjoyed had been brought about by the Simova network – his employer’s. It provided almost everything the population needed, from driving, to waste management. Everything that could be done for you was done for you. No-one even asked how, they had just come to expect that it was every single time.
Ahead of Graham a Mag-Lev car pulled into the lay-by lane – a separate track that let those travelling on to pass without slowing – and as soon as the doors parted Elliot leapt out. His bag flapped by his side as he tried to jog. The healthy physique he had adopted was more of a by-product of his slightly frantic nature than a lifestyle choice. He always rushed about as if at risk of dying if he stopped suddenly. By contrast, Graham had adopted a more leisurely lifestyle. It was ironic then that he always made it to work on time and Elliot did not.
When Elliot spotted Graham smirking at him, he slowed. “I know, I know, I’m late,” he said.
“Do I look surprised,” Graham replied. He held up his new clear plastic tablet to show off his success at having gotten through Aaron’s inquisition relatively unscathed.
“Nice. I guess he was pissed?”
“Surprisingly no, he seemed alright.” Graham brought up the work schedule for the day and found their first appointment. It appeared to be nothing special, not like the night before. This time just a couple of routine checks awaited their attention.
“What we got then?” Elliot asked.
Swiping his finger toward Elliot shared the work schedule to his partner’s wrist screen. He was amused to see Elliot’s head drop slightly when he saw the first job; dull as dishwater. Not exactly Elliot’s idea of work, he always made this clear with a teenager style dragging of his feet. Graham, on the other hand, felt thankful for the easy morning that lay ahead of them. He was sure his head would not cope with anything else anyway. So he led the way while he shrunk his tablet to its armband size and snapped it around his arm with a satisfying slap.
