ROGER (Read Until 7/31)

S E V E N

I knew the lights followed me. I could feel them.

Each building came alive as I passed them, their bulbs like peering eyes over the streets. Storefronts became faces, with their open doors, like screaming mouths in the night.

I tried to tell myself it was in my head, that fear created the images. Yet, when I turned on a street a block from home and saw someone staring at me through a shut window, I knew it wasn't my imagination. They were watching me, just like Xerses said; citizens, controlled by their VFs, stalked me from the shadows.

Panic, fueled by adrenaline, blinded me as I bolted down the street. I couldn't remember running into my apartment, but I knew Roger locked my door when I did. While I jumped in my bed and curled up, hiding under my blankets, he took it upon himself to seal me in. The windows were locked and closed off, with curtains blocking the view outside. Appliances were powered down and put to sleep because they gave off a signal when in use. My laptop, my cellphone-done and fried. He would be my only source of technology, the only means to keep me safe, and I agreed to it, because I couldn't do anything else.

I didn't want to die; I didn't want to be controlled.

Still, I knew it was only a matter of time. Everyone knew Roger had failed to obtain control, and I was the only citizen roaming free within the city. I'd become the mouse in their new game of chase. How long did I have until the cats came to corner me in my little burrow?

I counted the days.

♦

"Clara."

Sitting in the center of my bed, I gripped my cellphone tight in my hand. Occasionally, I tapped it and waited to see if it'd respond, but it didn't. Its screen was blank and the edges around it as cold as the snow outside. There was no internet, no news; Roger denied me all access.

I tossed it aside but knew I'd grab it again in a few minutes.

"Clara."

Roger's voice echoed around me. It rang in my head and out the speaker of every device in my tiny apartment. He was everywhere, just like they were.

"I need you to look at me."

I did. I looked at him every time he asked. At least four times a day, he'd ask for my attention, and when I gave it to him, he tried to reason with me, tried to get me to smile, but that was where his AI disconnected us.

I didn't care how aware he'd become, or how real he felt; I was alone.

"Any news?" I asked him. I'd barely spoken since New Year's and my voice was hoarse.

Roger's image, the center of my TV as always, became clear as he frowned at me and dropped down into a squat. I took in his appearance: the folds of his clothes were crisp, his shoes clean. Parts of his hair was slicked back, but shaggy, and there were bags under his eyes, so unlike the Roger that was first installed for me. In fact, this Roger looked just as tired and rundown as I felt, and because of it, my mind wandered away with thoughts of his real existence.

"None," he said, sliding his hand through his hair. "At least, none that I can find."

"How far did you look?"

"Far, Clara." His eyes were brighter than normal. "As far as the Province's database allowed."

"And?"

Pain drained that blue from his eyes, dulling it to the same shade of grey that the shadows had around me. That pain pressed heavily on my chest. "What do you want me to say?" he asked.