“Yeah, I think so.”
“Come on then, we’re going to be late!”
She pulled me along, and I looked up from the clock at the high vaulted ceiling of New York’s Central Station. This place always inspired a sense of awe in me, or, if not exactly awe, then a deep feeling of history. I felt a certain sense of nostalgia for all the human stories that had passed through this place, or, like me, were dragged through.
Looking up and around as we wound our way through the hustle and bustle across the white marble floors, my eyes came to rest on the news display at one end. She was looking at it as well.
“Carrier Groups set to high alert in Straits of Taiwan,” read the rolling display, “China warns of pre-emptive cyber attacks.”
She let go of me, staring at the news display, and then looked back at me. Her blue eyes shone, twinkling in the station’s lighting. She was so beautiful.
“Are you sure it’s safe?”
I looked briefly up at the news again and then back into her eyes.
“Of course, these things always blow over,” I reassured her.
“Seriously Vince, you’re the expert. You’re sure, right?”
She stood stock still, looking into my eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
We began running for the track again, hand in hand. Soon we were on the train, cuddled up together for the evening ride back into Boston, the soft ka-chunk, ka-chunk of the tracks lulling us into a peaceful slumber as the miles rolled away.
In what seemed like moments later, I awoke with a start, my heart racing. It was dark, much too dark. Somebody was yelling. Sitting upright, I looked out the window into pitch blackness.
Then the screams and the terrible squeal of metal tearing and gnashing into itself as the train car pitched back and forth. I jammed my feet into the seat into front of me, bracing myself for what was to come, holding onto the girl who clutched desperately back onto me.
And then the world exploded.
Sucking in air, I sat bolt upright in bed, looking around, trying to hold onto her, but she was gone. I hadn’t died in that reality, but then, that one was in the past, now an unchangeable part of my timeline. I hadn’t died in the train crash, but she had—Pamela, the love of my young life, back when I was an engineering student at MIT. I calmed my breathing, telling myself that everything was alright, but even now, nearly forty years later, I knew that it wasn’t, and that it never would be.
It was a perpetually recurring dream, dulled only slightly with time, of that nightmare of a night when I’d lost her. It was during the initial attack that had knocked out the power grids, the first shots of what would become known as 2C, the cyber wars of 2022. What had been intended as a warning shot to disable some regional power systems in Connecticut had cascaded uncontrollably, knocking out power grids all the way down the East Coast in the middle of the winter that year.
I’d promised her there was nothing to worry about, and it had cost her life. I’d been in the middle of my master’s degree at the MIT Media Lab, an expert in the cyber realm, and Patricia Killiam had been my thesis professor. I’d been studying the use of predictive systems in social networks, a pursuit which became a passion after the accident. If I’d just been able to see the future a little more clearly, been able to know a little more, I could have saved her. At least, that’s what I could never forgive myself for.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead, rubbing my eyes. Why had she returned to my dreams now? I sighed. It must be the baby shower I was going to later in the day. Family events always made me think of Pamela, of a life I’d lost so long ago, a life I’d filled with senseless fluff but was now defending with everything I had.
Perhaps it wasn’t worth it. Why was I even trying? I could perhaps save my own life, but the future of the world? I knew the future, and it wasn’t something I wished I knew. In fact, I’d been trying my best to forget. I laid back down in the bed and put my heart back away, closing my eyes.
I needed to try and get some sleep.
7
WASN’T A BABY shower supposed to come before a baby was born? Anyway, it didn’t really matter. I was here to congratulate the happy couple.
I’d just materialized in the entertainment metaworld that Commander Strong had created for his family’s coming out party. Well, his sort-of family. Rick waved at me and I smiled and waved back, watching him hand his new simulated baby back to his wife.
Despite being a big believer in Patricia’s synthetic reality program, I couldn’t help feeling that these ‘proxxid’ simulated babies were slightly creepy, and I’d been hearing dark rumors hinting terrible things Dr. Granger had been using them for.
I would have avoided coming entirely, but this event had sprung up on my threat radar today. Convincing Rick that this proxxid, and having many more besides, was a good idea would somehow collapse a whole subset of threat vectors coming my way.
I didn’t like the idea of being so disingenuous, and I’d argued and tried to plan other contingencies all night with Hotstuff, but the alternatives were a lot more dangerous. After a little reflection, though, it didn’t seem a bad thing, and the happy couple seemed to be enjoying it.
“Congrats Commander!” I exclaimed as Rick neared, outstretching my hand. He shook it firmly, looking a little sheepish, and motioned towards the bar.
“Thanks, Vince. Oh, and thanks for those flowers the other day, Cindy really loved them.”
“No problem at all.”
We’d reached the bar. “So, what’ll it be?” he asked.
I surveyed the bottles. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
Right now wasn’t the time for a drink. It would have only been a synthetic drink for me, so I could choose whether to feel intoxicated or not, but the real issue was the interpersonal engagement. Taking a drink would necessitate having a chat, and I felt very uncomfortable about having to lie to my friend.
I shrugged weakly.
“You sure?” he asked, dropping some ice cubes into a cut glass tumbler and topping it off with a more than generous dose of whiskey.
“Yeah, I’m just kind of busy.”
I was struggling with what needed to come next. Rick fidgeted in front of me, taking a big gulp from his drink and smiling awkwardly.
“This thing, it’s just a little game,” he laughed, misinterpreting my discomfort as mockery. Knocking back another big swig from his drink he shook his head, looking towards his wife holding their proxxid. “I’m just doing it to keep her happy, you know how it is.”
The time had come.
“No, no, absolutely this is the best thing,” I said enthusiastically, “you need to do this. This is the way of the future!” I clapped Rick on the back to emphasize the point.
He snorted and took another big swig of his drink, his face brightening.
“I mean it, Rick, you should have as many simulated babies as you can before going on to the real thing.”
“You really think so?”
“I do my friend, I do.” I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly. I felt terrible. I had to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Listen, I have to get going, though. Sorry. Give Cindy a kiss for me, okay?”
“I will.” He nodded, smiling.
I hesitated. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Perhaps I should just come clean, see if he could help me with my
