by Resa Nelson
Zuri reached out and placed her hands as if they were holding his. “You scared me. I need you. I want you to be with me. I don’t think I can do this without you.”
Benjamin looked at her hands, appearing to hold his. “Why are you here?”
Zuri didn’t know what to make of his question at first. But then she remembered that, moments ago, Ben said the people who make the most personal connections in VainGlory succeed.
That’s what he’s doing. He’s helping me figure out how to make personal connections. He needs to know more about me to do that.
“I want to be famous.”
Benjamin’s pale green gaze remained strong and steady. “Why? What good will fame do you?”
If Ben had been human, Zuri would have been shocked by the question.
He’s a program. He has no way of understanding unless I spell it out for him.
Zuri gathered her thoughts, wanting to help Ben know her better. “Fame is everything. When you’re famous, people recognize you right away. They know who you are.”
“Why do you need so many people to know you? Isn’t family enough?”
Zuri stiffened. “I have no family.”
“That isn’t what the records show.”
His response startled Zuri. She’d been very specific when she’d filled out her application for VainGlory. She’d listed her family status as “orphan.”
They must have accessed my records in Aspire.
Normally, Zuri would have responded with a snarky comment, but she knew Ben meant to help her. He needed to know the truth. “I listed my status as an orphan because I feel like one.”
Benjamin’s voice softened. “Why? What happened to make you feel that way?”
Zuri shrugged, even though she had no problem knowing the answers to his question. “When people treat you like you don’t exist, you might as well be an orphan.”
“How did that happen? Who did it? What exactly did they do?”
Zuri’s voice became scratchy. “My parents acted like they didn’t know I was alive.” She gestured to the curved wall surrounding her. “They were always too busy with their phones to notice me. It’s like they lived in their own Personal Bubble decades before Personal Bubbles existed.” She paused and flinched at a memory. “When I was a little girl, we went to one of the old-time places that are supposed to be nostalgic. They had all these weird things, like people dressed up as the tooth fairy or Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. There was an Easter egg hunt, and kids were running all over the place, trying to find the biggest egg, because whoever found it would win a gigantic stuffed toy. While the other kids were running, I started poking around and found it.” Zuri stopped and looked away.
“Go on.”
“I was five years old, but I saw a toddler girl who had just seen the big egg, too. I wanted the egg for myself, but that toddler’s face lit up with so much joy that it made me happier to let her get it. So, I stayed put and watched her.” Zuri’s voice stiffened. “That’s when my parents—who for once decided to look at me—called to me from the sidelines and told me to let the toddler have the egg.” She shook her head in disgust. “They didn’t see that I’d already decided to do it. Afterwards, they took credit for what I did. That’s what they did all the time, over and over and over again. They never knew me. They didn’t see me.”
Benjamin’s tone stayed even and calm. “Some people would say it was just an Easter egg hunt. They might think you’re too sensitive.”
“Things like that happened all the time,” Zuri said in a quiet voice. “Once when we were walking down a street, I walked slower to see if they’d notice I wasn’t there. When I fell two blocks behind, a man across the street gave me a look that made my skin crawl, so I walked faster to catch up to my parents. By the time I did, I could tell they never saw I wasn’t walking with them. But what if I’d been kidnapped by that creep? Molested? Murdered?” She paused. “My folks made me feel like a thing. Like I was just a possession to them, not a daughter. I didn’t even feel human when I was with them.”
With a start, Zuri realized that she’d just told her Personal Digital Assistant that she’d left her family because they’d made her feel inhuman. She’d never heard of a program that had feelings, but her automatic response was to worry that she might have hurt Benjamin’s feelings. Even though she doubted she needed to address a possible faux pax, Zuri wanted to be on the safe side with him. “I didn’t mean to knock being a non-human. It’s just that I am a human, and I don’t like it when people act like I’m not.”
“I understand,” Benjamin said.
“I guess what hurts the most is that they never had any idea who I am. They assumed they knew me, but they didn’t.”
“Wasn’t there anyone else who did?”
Zuri resisted his question at first, wanting to forget her past instead of remember it. But this was for her own good. This was how Ben could help her. “I had an older brother, Rameen. He saw what happened at the Easter egg hunt, and he yelled at our folks and tried to make them understand.” Zuri shook her head. “But they never listened to him either. So, he left.”
“He must have had his reasons.”
“Sure,” Zuri said. “He got out and started his own life. That’s what I learned from him. You’ve got nobody in life except yourself, so you’d better start looking out for yourself as soon as you can.”
“Oh, Zuri,” Benjamin whispered.
“Look, I got out when I was 14. That was ten years ago, and I doubt that anyone ever noticed I’d left.” Zuri gathered her thoughts and cooled her emotions. “But the past is the past. I have a good life that’s getting better by the moment. And I’ve got Mae Lin. She’s like the sister I never had. She’s my family now.”
Benjamin stared at her with his blank metallic face. His green eyes seemed to pale.
“So,” Zuri continued. “How can we use that? What can we gather from my past that will help me get endorsements and clusters and breaking trends?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do? Is it possible VainGlory isn’t good for you? Would you ever consider returning to your family?”
Zuri looked at Benjamin in horror, but then his words sparked an idea. “Ben!” Zuri said in excitement. “I know what to do.”
CHAPTER 8
Riding her new wave of excitement, Zuri waved the Outgoing Connect icon front and center on her bubble. Moments later, Mae Lin’s image hovered in the air. Her eyes looked puffy and her face drawn and pale.
“Mae Lin,” Zuri said. “What’s wrong?”
Her friend spoke in a strained voice. “Another rash of suicides. We lost Ann at the Flower Fairy.”
Not believing her, Zuri pushed the image of Mae Lin to the side to make room for a new icon. But when Zuri brought up the Flower Fairy icon, she found it draped with black banners reading “Rest in Peace.” Zuri slumped against the back of the sofa. Had she not already been sitting, she would have crumpled to the floor in shock. “How could this happen?”
“You know how it is,” Mae Lin said. “The Flower Fairy was Ann’s baby. She put everything into it. It’s been in a slump for a while, but I didn’t know it was that bad. Nobody did. She left a note saying she couldn’t figure out how to get it back on track. She lost hope. She thought she’d never succeed. She gave up.”
Zuri felt the room spinning.
What if she had placed an order with the Flower Fairy as soon as she arrived in VainGlory? Could that have helped Ann? Would it have given her enough hope to hang on?
A pang of guilt sickened Zuri.
She knew what it felt like to lose hope. To convince herself that she’d become worthless and that her existence was pointless. She recalled the terrible sensation of feeling as if she’d tumbled off a cliff, plummeting down and down and down. The numbness. The sensation of not belonging in a world that seemed as if it had been made for everyone else except Zuri. The isolation that made her feel like the lowest being on the planet. And the inevitable c
onclusion that she didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, had no ability to make herself matter.
But since the beginning of their friendship, Zuri and Mae Lin had made a pact: whenever one of them slipped, she would tell the other. When Zuri sank into hopelessness, she told Mae Lin, who would plunge into the iciness of Zuri’s despair and pull her back to the surface of confidence like a lifeguard rescuing and then resuscitating a drowned victim.
And Zuri did the same for Mae Lin. Together, they felt invincible.
Zuri pushed back the Flower Fairy icon and put Mae Lin’s image front and center. “I’ll bring you to VainGlory as soon as I can. I promise you’ll be here soon. And then the rest of our lives will be perfect.”
Mae Lin sniffed. “I know. I wish I could have helped Ann.”
Zuri’s heart felt like an anchor. “Me, too.”
“Aspire is a wonderful place,” Mae Lin said. “But sometimes it’s hard. And I don’t know how to help everybody. I don’t know how to know when they need help. If I knew, maybe I could do something.”
“Maybe we can figure it out someday,” Zuri said, meaning it. “But right now, we have each other, and the most important thing is for me to bring you to VainGlory. You’ll be safe here. We’ll both be safe. And once we have our own lives in order, we can think about how to help other people in Aspire.”
Mae Lin nodded. “OK.”
But her voice sounded tired and worn down.
Zuri worried. “You have to call me if you feel bad. That’s the deal.”
“I know.” Mae Lin offered a sad smile. “I will. It’s just losing Ann. I found out a couple of minutes before you called. Everybody has their ups and downs, but I thought Ann would turn things around. I never dreamed she’d give up. It’s hard.”
“Yeah. It’s hard for me, too.” Zuri hesitated. She’d called Mae Lin for a reason, and she felt an urgency while at the same time not wanting to dismiss the death of their friend. “But we always say the best thing is to stay focused on our work.”
“Right.” Mae Lin straightened her posture and wiped away her tears. “You called for a reason.”
“Remember how we got our first break?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I’m going to do the same thing here in VainGlory, and I need what we used back then.”
Mae Lin paused in thought. “What we have now is better. I can make some updates and send them to you in a few days. Is that soon enough?”
“It’s perfect. And don’t forget. Call me anytime you need.”
Mae Lin nodded before disconnecting.
Her icon diminished back into the wall, which became lively as more icons woke up in preparation for the upcoming day. Hundreds of icons buzzed in conversation and movement meant to catch Zuri’s eye. She stared mindlessly at them. Her Personal Soundtrack played an upbeat tune, and the vocalists sang about a new restaurant opening tonight. “Order now,” they crooned, “and we’ll deliver tonight! You won’t have to think about it later!”
Zuri’s stomach rumbled. Without thinking, she called up the singing icon and placed her order.
“Zuri!” Benjamin said.
As if startled out of a dream, she turned to see his image still sat on the sofa next to her.
“What are you doing?” he said.
Zuri pointed at the icon that now sank back to its place on the wall. “Dinner. If I order it now, I won’t have to think about it later.”
“One of your friends killed herself. How are you feeling?”
For a moment, Zuri missed the old Benjamin and his bright and persistent optimism. While it could sometimes be annoying, Zuri knew she needed someone like him to help her stay focused and assured. She assumed he’d either received an automatic upgrade or was programmed to adapt to her personality.
But with Mae Lin in Aspire, Zuri also liked having someone to lean on here in VainGlory, even if that someone ultimately was made of nothing but ones and zeroes.
“Not great,” Zuri admitted. “Nothing feels very real at the moment.”
“It there anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mae Lin seems like a good friend. I’m glad you have her.”
Zuri let out a sigh of relief. “Me, too. If it wasn’t for Mae Lin, I could have been like Ann years ago. No one ever tells you how hard it is just to exist.”
“Do you think it could help to have more people like Mae Lin in your life?”
“More people,” Zuri murmured. Her mind buzzed with the germ of a new idea. She looked into Benjamin’s eyes, which now appeared to pulse slightly. “That’s the answer. What if I found a new best friend here in VainGlory? Maybe even a boyfriend.”
“What about Mae Lin?”
Zuri waved a hand as if brushing away Benjamin’s question. “Mae Lin will always be my actual best friend. I’m talking about finding friends who can help me get endorsements. Powerful friends. Ones who can help me get clusters and breaking trends.”
The light in Benjamin’s eyes pulsed faster. “But then you’d be using them.”
“Not really,” Zuri said. “I’m going to find people I truly like. And if I can help them in return, I’ll do it. But what I need is to find the most powerful people who want to be seen with a rising star in VainGlory.”
When Benjamin said nothing in response, Zuri added, “That’s me. I’m on the verge of becoming a rising star, and with help from a few new best friends, I can do it.”
CHAPTER 9
For the next few days, Zuri spent every waking moment scouring the icons inside her Personal Bubble. After realizing most were sites she’d used when living in Aspire, Zuri pushed them into the far background and tapped into the myriad of icons that catered to her new fellow residents. Most of those icons offered products and services beyond the financial reach of people who lived outside VainGlory.
Before beginning her hunt for new and influential friends, Zuri decided how to present herself to the world. She settled on wearing Mae Lin’s bubble dress, where tiny bubbles floated randomly across the dress’s black background, the bubbles changing constantly in a cycle from pale pink to lavender to burnt orange.
Every time Zuri brought up a new icon, she examined the images of customers circling around it. She strained to hear each one, but they talked so loud and fast and all at once that it sounded more like a congregation of geese than people. When they changed their images to show how they used the product or service, Zuri hurried to comment in an effort to catch their attention.
But everyone appeared so absorbed in what they had to say that they didn’t notice her.
It had been like that in her early days in Aspire. Zuri knew the solution to the problem was persistence. If she kept trying different icons and every person circling each icon, Zuri would succeed sooner or later.
Late in the day at the end of the week, Zuri slumped in exhaustion. Once again, she’d forgotten to eat dinner, but she felt no hunger while trudging forward. She struggled to keep her eyes open.
One more. I’ll check just one more and then go to bed.
Her Personal Soundtrack played a soothing but perky number, which helped Zuri stay awake.
She’d already scoured the most popular sites for shopping and self-pampering. After navigating to the overview level of sites targeted to VainGlory residents, Zuri decided to try the category dedicated to fun. New icons flooded her bubble wall, and the dissonance of yammering and music from those sites and their customers drowned out Zuri’s Personal Soundtrack. Bright white searchlights emerged from one icon and swept across the depth and breadth of her wall.
Intrigued, Zuri brought forward the icon with the searchlights. Across the icon’s top border, neon lights announced: LookAtMeDance!
Unlike any other site she’d seen, the icon appeared as an empty dance floor, but music poured out of it. Hundreds of customer bubbles floated around the empty dance floor, each containing a single dancer, a pair of dancers, or a group, all responding t
o the music in their own way. In one bubble, a little girl appeared as a kitten wearing a tutu and performed clumsy pirouettes. As required by law, her age displayed below her spinning feet along with a padlock preventing adults from approaching her. In another bubble, a pair of men sporting cubist shapes humped in time to the music. In a larger bubble, several photorealistic women wearing sleek cocktail dresses formed a chorus line, where the one in the center wore a headdress reading “Bride to Be.”
Zuri wilted. It could take hours to comment on everyone. But if she worked her way through them methodically, she could mark this off her task list and eventually go to bed.
After a few dozen failures, a woman dressed like a warrior in ancient Rome caught Zuri’s attention. Dancing with energetic abandon, the woman presented as an anime figure with straight hair falling in sheets and huge round eyes that never blinked.
As she’d done with the others, Zuri projected a sphere containing her own image near the Roman warrior’s presence. Shouting above the music, Zuri said, “Wow! I like the way you dance!” A smiling mouth floating out of Zuri’s sphere and piled on top of the others beneath the warrior.
She kept dancing but pointed at Zuri. “Hey,” the woman shouted. “I know you. I know that dress. Are you the one who punched the shark?”
Zuri came fully awake in an instant, forgetting to be tired. “Yes! That’s me.”
The woman spun and then conjured up an Invite button that hovered by her hand. “Meet me in the Talk Room.”
For the first time Zuri realized the empty dance floor in the icon was replicated for every dancer. That dance floor dropped open beneath the warrior woman’s feet, and she plummeted out of sight.
However, the Invite button still hovered, now in empty air.
Zuri hesitated, considering her options.
I don’t know this woman. She’s a stranger. Why is she so eager to talk to me when no one else is?
The thought of turning off the display of icons on her bubble wall and going to bed tempted Zuri.
But isn’t that exactly the kind of friend I’m looking for? Even if we don’t become friends, she might introduce me to someone else who will become my friend.
