“What about rain?”
Doctor Solomon cocked her head. “Come again, dear?”
“I understand that the heat-radiating buildings and walkways will melt snow and ice. But what about rain? Does it rain all the time in Malibu during winter months? It sure does here in Finland.”
Clearly annoyed by her question, the doctor had cleared her throat and removed an invisible piece of lint from her white coat. “Sweetheart, you won’t have to worry about rain—or much of anything else—once you live in the blue city.”
***
Leaning against the bathroom sink, Maija forces herself to think of Kaarina. She closes her fist around the white pill. Her short nails press painfully against her palms.
Kaarina will live in the city.
She’ll be chipped, just like everyone else.
It’ll be okay, just like Doctor Solomon said.
Maija shakes her head at her thoughts as another voice takes over. It’s still her voice—her thoughts—but the message is now less optimistic and positive. More real.
What about Ässä? Will you agree to replace him with a digital dog?
And what, you’re going to start calling the drugs they numb you with “happiness pills”? Will you be too afraid to call them what they really are—antidepressants? Just like everyone else?
Do you really believe that perfect weather and a chip in your brain will bring you happiness?
Pressed against her palm, the white pill waits for her to make up her mind. A white pill, much like the happiness pills everyone will soon be taking in the blue city.
But this pill is not part of the Happiness-Program, or the augmented reality the city tenants will soon get to enjoy through their government-issue AR-glasses.
This white pill was not prescribed by Doctor Solomon, but by a nurse gone rogue.
***
After Doctor Solomon had left the room, silence filled the hospital lab. The machines and other equipment rested quietly in their places, all shut down and useless. Maija stared at the tablet Doctor Solomon had left on her desk. The next available time slot was in just one day. Maija’s time had run out.
The lab door opened and closed behind her. Too occupied by her thoughts to check which of her colleagues had walked in, Maija kept staring at the blue light emanating from the device in front of her.
“Having second thoughts, are we?”
The slightly nasal voice belonged to her colleague, Nurse Saarinen.
“Sounds like I don’t have that luxury.”
“What’s that?”
Maija finally looked up from the blank form. The nurse’s face was serious but calm.
“Having second thoughts. It’s not an option anymore. The chip is mandatory, right? If I want to keep my job?”
Nurse Saarinen’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She took a step back and gestured around the empty lab, like she was showing Maija around her workspace for the first time. “Not to state the obvious here…but what job? In case you haven’t noticed, none of the patients that arrive to this hospital are breathing. I guess you can still draw their blood and figure out whether it was rat poison or moonshine they used to take their lives.”
Maija pushed aside the tablet and crossed her arms on her chest. “So if I’m already out of a job, why is the chipping even necessary?”
“Well, you want to keep living in the city, don’t you?”
A shrug was enough to keep the nurse talking.
“Anyone without a chip won’t do so well here, not after the augmented reality with its holograms and digital tiles gets up and running. The electricity running through the city, the self-driving vehicles—all of it—will demand a successfully installed brain implant to work. You’ll need to be integrated with the Chip System.”
“And I’ll be what, a part of a computer then?”
“In some sense, I guess you will be. Yes.”
“Must be Miranda’s revenge…” Maija mumbled and turned back to Doctor Solomon’s tablet.
“What’s that?”
She reached for the tablet and entered her date of birth into the first empty field. “Nothing.”
Nurse Saarinen took a few steps across the space separating them and sat down on Maija’s desk. “Why are you so against the chipping? Don’t you want humanity to be cured? For these mass suicides to end?”
Maija’s hand froze on the tablet. A strong sensation coursed through her. Disgust? Desperation? Rage? Maybe it was all three, bundled together. Maybe she just despised the tablet in front of her, for stripping away her freedom to choose.
Maija stood up, her face only a few inches away from Nurse Saarinen’s. Coolness in her voice, she said, “Why? You’re asking me why I’m not okay with someone else deciding how I’m supposed to spend the rest of my days? Why I hesitate at the idea of popping pills every day, when I don’t feel suicidal or isolated? Not everyone is doomed to die. Some of us still have something to live for.”
“You mean your daughter? I think I saw her appointment on the chipping schedule. Only a few weeks from now.”
Kaarina’s face flashed through Maija’s mind. How her green eyes lit up with excitement as she described the blue tiles that circle the soon-to-be-lit city. Or the government-provided food service she would then get to use every day. And how she had already sent a job application to the city’s Pedal-Center, where people would ride electric bikes to keep the digital society running.
Why can’t she join in her daughter’s excitement? Why can’t she be thrilled about their nation’s second chance?
“I still think it’s fundamentally wrong. That we can’t decide for ourselves.” Maija got up and started pacing in circles. “I don’t know, maybe I should file a complaint. Talk to people, see if there are others who feel the same way as I do.”
Nurse Saarinen’s mouth twitched at her words. Her eyes searched Maija’s face. Something flickered there, but Maija couldn’t read what it was.
Maija walked back to the desk. Her chin held high, she reached for the tablet and
