The next day, Pen inquired into Samantha's well-being. Ty let him know that she was adjusting to work, but her memory was still in pieces.
During the conversation, Ty brought up the State authorities, firing off question after question:
Why had they been involved in Samantha's investigation?
Why had they followed up with her at the hospital?
Was she still under their surveillance?
Pen blocked the questions with a look.
"Whoa, too much stuff I can't answer. What I do know is that Prominent control is picking up speed, and part of the run-off is greater State-presence. For God's sake, we need the help! I saw three shootings this last week."
Ty nodded. While at Burger Town for lunch, he witnessed a shooting at the bank across the street. A woman was robbed and shot in the head after withdrawing money from the ATM. Even from his view-point of a couple hundred yards, the scene had caused Ty to drop his half-eaten sandwich on the table.
After seeing her first shooting, Samantha had said hoarsely, "I fucking hate guns."
He came back to Pen's thoughts on greater control to curb the rising violence, though Ty was convinced bringing in more State agents would do the opposite. The real problem was far simpler than State Agents.
Kiosks were positioned in front of most major retailers, selling common items like snacks, soda...and guns. Or as the kiosk's advertising interface proclaimed, SSG: the three major staples.
These points came to mind as Pen continued on about the importance of domestic security, the importance of a unified state. He seemed to be combating the fear with more fear. Hardly a good recipe, but Ty didn't voice his thoughts. Pen finished talking, and Ty came away from the discussion with no definitive stance on State agents.
They hadn't come around since the day Samantha had been found. Ty counted their absence as a good sign. Then again, he was panicked they were surveying him and Samantha from a distance, but for what purpose?
Ty rode his bike home in a pensive mood. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if he was being followed, skimming his knee on a parked car in the process. He thought he saw a black car in his rearview mirror. When he checked again, it was gone.
He strolled in the house, pleased to see Helia interacting with Jennifer and Samantha. The two women watched Helia as she navigated the paint application on the desktop computer. It was an older touch screen model, certainly no interface. With her small finger, Helia created her favorite letters. Samantha gently reminded the toddler not to use her right hand, which still had a cast on her index finger. Helia struggled with her left hand, but managed to create a legible letter.
"A!" she giggled.
"You made an 'a'," Samantha said.
Jennifer kissed Helia's cheek, and the toddler glowed from the overwhelming attention.
"Hello, ladies," Ty said.
~*~
YOU ARE READING
Obsolution ✔
Science FictionTy, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...