Various Vilifications

I Have Seen the Future and It Didn't Work

The vomit already worked its way up most of my throat, and it doesn't subside until I pull the plug. My head feels dizzy from too many simulations in too short a time. Tired of it all, I rip out the immersion chip and take a look around. My desk hesitates to fade back into view. Seeing how crammed and messy the place is, I can't say I blame it.

Paper and hardware piles up right and left of me. The ceiling light tries its utmost to keep the room lit up, but it's drained out by the packed shelves. Something here smells like a dead animal. God, I have no clue when I last opened a window. Yesterday morning, maybe?

I breath in and out a few times, coming to terms with where I am. Any time I spent inside virtual reality feels like hours. It's dark outside my window, and I can't tell whether it's still night or yet again. I stare at the blackness like I just received a concussion, listening to my surroundings.

There's a single knock on the door, followed by more silence. Rubbing my eyes I yell, "come in!" Some seconds pass and I don't get an answer. I can't really say why I ever expected one. Waiting outside would be Jackie, my wife and the only other person living in this place. I can't possibly give her any sort of visual signal from in here. Besides, my head is killing me and I don't even feel like looking for any other solution than to grudgingly get up and answer the door myself. So that's what I do.

She's wearing sweatpants and a tank top. It doesn't look like she's got anywhere left to go today. I glance at the clock which is mounted on the wall behind her. The casual outfit isn't too surprising at ten in the evening. She looks worried the first second she sees me. I guess my face isn't hiding much of how miserable I feel vibes right now. At the same time I can only wonder just how long she's been waiting for me. Or for how long I've been 'out' so to speak.

How was your day? You don't look so good.

She doesn't actually say it, of course. Just lets her hands do the talking. So do I, when I knock on my temple a few times, then point my thumb at the card slot inside my neck. It's not so hard to get what I mean from there. She nods. Her mouth opens a bit as she does and produces some sound along the lines of "Huh." She does that all the time. I can never tell if it's deliberate or not.

Signing back I say, so, what's up?

I'm alright. A bit worn out from the long day maybe, if nothing else. Actually I was wondering if you could look into something for me, that would be great. Maybe you should first take an Aspirin or two, though.

I have a vague idea of what she's talking about. Probably wants me to read one of these damn archive chips she's working on. Whatever this one's got in store for me. Medicine comes first though. The thought of relieving the pressure on my brain sounds like a little piece of heaven right now.

Do you have any of it here? I think I'm all out.

She gives me a thumbs up and strolls back down the hall to the kitchen. I follow suit at first, but turn right into our joke of a living room instead. When I crash down on the sofa, the room's still spinning all around me.

Jackie walks in probably a minute later, carrying a glass of sparkly acid in one hand, and a troubled look on her face. "God bless that woman," is all I can think at that moment. I'd have likely been dead as a doornail for years without her. Then again, I sometimes feel like having her and especially the work she does around me is going to lead me down that very same path one day. Tonight won't be pretty either, I can already tell.

Sitting down next to me, she hands me the glass which I immediately grab and hold on to. I throw my head back and gulp it all down in two large sips. Better late than never. When I'm looking at the coffee table again, a small, flat metal case has appeared before me. That wasn't there a moment ago. I shoot Jackie a look, and she frowns.