Children of the Virus

4: Foiled Intimacies

Toshiro felt the thud of the iron door as it slammed shut behind him. The air in his cell was thin and stale, carrying with it the lingering scent of disinfectant. The stone walls, cold and rough to the touch, pushed in on all sides. But he was alone here. He could retreat from all the inmates and robots alike.

Digital viruses allowed people to do things like autowalk, read minds, and visit virtual realities using only their minds—no clunky headgear, no wearables from decades past. And that was just the start. They could code viruses for anything imaginable. Toshiro's favorite was the augmented reality virus.

He whispered, "Take me to the mountains," and at once the virus transformed his cell, replacing dull gray walls with a vivid landscape. He could smell the crisp mountain air and feel the sun warming his skin as he watched waves crash along the shoreline. At least Zo hadn't revoked his access to virtual scenery.

The view of the towering mountains was breathtaking, yet he could not enjoy it. Worry coursed through his veins at the thought of not seeing Luna. He knew that living without her would be unbearable.

Toshiro thought back to the first time he and Luna had met. In the sixties, Zo had sent drones to explore distant worlds, giving people a view from their living rooms. Toshiro had arranged a picnic on Europa, one of Jupiter's four Galilean moons. They had been captivated by the mesmerizing view of the twirling Jovian atmosphere and erupting cryogeysers which had cast a warm glow on Luna's radiant face. She had held his hand tighter with each new burst of light, their amazement only growing more intense as they had watched in wonder. When they could no longer bear the beauty of it all, Toshiro had turned to her and held her face in his hands before pressing his lips to hers. As he pulled away, she had whispered her very first, "I love you," into his ear.

Six months, Toshiro! The words of the AI Therapist echoed in his mind. He cursed himself for signing the obscenity. Why did I have to be such a smartass?

Toshiro heard a door buzzing nearby followed by heavy footsteps down the hall, each thud vibrating through the floor like an earthquake. His heart raced as he peered through his tiny window to see a massive bot, a hulking beast of metal and wires that dwarfed him in comparison. Rarely did bots visit his cell block, making him curious. What is it doing here?

Toshiro could make out the muffled jeers of other inmates in his cell.

"Hey! Let me out of here, Gearhead!"

"Go back to Zo, Bolt-brain!"

"Hey, Tin Can, you short-circuit on your way over here? Or are you just slow?"

Don't antagonize it, Toshiro thought. The last thing they needed was an angry bot.

Toshiro froze as he saw the guard approaching his cell. It was the worst that could happen. His heart pounded in his chest, as he scrambled away from the window, barely daring to breathe. He had no desire to attract any more robotic wrath today. The metal prison door opened with a screeching sound and the bot stepped inside, red eyes fixed on Toshiro like a hunter sighting its prey.

"What do you want?" Toshiro asked, not expecting an answer.

The bot's mechanical arm extended, holding something precious—the Luna token. Toshiro couldn't believe his eyes. How could this be?

Then the robot guard spoke up: "Toshiro Igarashi, you have five minutes to say goodbye to Luna Igarashi."

Toshiro's heart sank at the realization that this would be his last goodbye for a long time. But then it occurred to him that this might be a ploy by Zo to get him to reveal something they might use against him. "Gee, thanks," he said.