Days, weeks, months, and finally years passed by, and Kaarina was left alone at the barn where she chose to live among the animals. No visits from either the Chip-Center employees or the guards in charge of public safety.
After a full year of living in the woods, lurking near the city line but never entering, Kaarina had finally pushed her luck. She paid a visit to the city inside the stone walls. Walked around. Touched things: buildings, poles and hologram stands, even people. She purposely bumped into the blue suits, hoping they wouldn’t report her to the guards for invading their personal space. After all, touch wasn’t something people dealt with very well these days.
Nothing happened.
She stood near a city employee, out in the open. She walked by a guard close to the Chip-Center.
Nothing.
Air—that’s all she was to them. It was like their AR-glasses couldn’t even spot her. Except that small gestures kept giving them away: a quick side-eye or a nervous glance, followed by hurried footsteps in the opposite direction. They were eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the creature that couldn’t be ranked—a thing that didn’t fit into their reality.
Kaarina no longer worries about being caught. The paved path leads up a small hill as she enters the east side of the city. Here the trees and plants still demand their space, covering the sides of the buildings and the small horseshoe-shaped park. The blue-tile-snake still wiggles across and around the area, but fewer glowing bulletin boards and screens decorate the streets. The apartment complexes take up most of the open area. Down here at street level, blank signs glow brightly in front of the stores. If Kaarina remembers right, the pharmacy sign is the one in the middle: slightly crooked, possibly off its hinge, but not enough for the owner to straighten it.
She sits down on a park bench, carefully scanning the area. One person—that’s all she needs. One blue suit to barter with. Then she’ll have to leave this place and disappear into the darkening woods, just like she has a handful of times before.
There aren’t many blue suits around to choose from. Kaarina bends her legs to hide her broken sneakers underneath the bench. As if it would matter. She could sit here shoeless, pantsless, topless. Or she could wear the highest quality, most expensive winter gear from the ruins of some sporting goods store. Whatever she wore, people would circle around to avoid her as if she carried the plague.
A woman approaches from the distance, her arm held down at her side as if she’s holding a leash. Fingers wrapped around something invisible, her plump blue figure sways slowly by.
“Cute dog,” Kaarina says, trying her luck. The woman turns her head in surprise. She focuses her AR-glasses to see who has complimented her virtual pet. When the visor turns to scan the park bench, Kaarina nods toward the spot where she thinks the digital Fifi stands. Or sits. Or barks. It might as well be attacking her leg, ripping open her skin and flesh while her blood spatters on the pavement between her and the staring dogwalker. She’ll never know.
The woman chuckles nervously. She’s probably wearing screaming-red lipstick, to go with a hot and trendy boiler suit or a puff shoulder top, accompanied by a nautical color wrap dress—whatever the latest virtual fashion trend is. Kaarina doesn’t know. She doesn’t really care. But she does need the woman’s help.
“Would you have a minute or two to help me out? I’m here to—”
The dogwalker turns and walks away on her imaginary block heels, discarding Kaarina’s entire existence.
“What a bitch. I could see that coming a mile away.”
“Shut it, Bill. You’re not helping.”
“I will, as soon as you start making smarter choices. Pick one that seems under the weather. Work smarter, not harder.”
Kaarina doesn’t respond. Instead, she looks around, scanning the quiet area for her next target.
Old man crossing the street.
A kid running backwards, catching an invisible ball with a baseball glove. Or so Kaarina thinks. She can only see the glove.
Another digital-dog walker, carefully picking up imaginary droppings into a virtual poop bag, then ditching it in a trash can by the road.
“Fake dog owners are the worst. Do you know what those puppies cost in the virtual market? You could buy a small house with that kind of credit.”
“At least they want to take care of someone, not just themselves. Could be a sign of a need to nurture.”
“I think you’re one fry short of a happy meal.”
A new blue suit approaches and interrupts Kaarina’s fiery retort. Her hungry eyes stare at the potential prey. The guy is about her age, maybe a few years older, fitter than most blue suits she’s seen in the city.
Greasy vegan food isn’t a problem when you can buy curves or a leaner form on the virtual store and look exactly like you want to look. With the nightly order-in service the city offers its tenants, most people can’t resist the temptation to order something tasty but less than healthy. Or at least that’s what Kaarina witnessed during her brief stay at the Chip-Center. There are only two things the city offers equally to all tenants, Chipped and Unchipped: food and pills.
As the fit blue suit walks closer, Kaarina notices another interesting detail about him: he’s in desperate need of a haircut. Those who live in the augmented reality rarely keep their real hair long. Short or shaved hair is much more convenient to bathe with.
“That’s it, that’s your guy. Go get it, girl.”
Resisting the urge to remind Bill that he’s not a twenty-year-old cheerleader, Kaarina stands up and takes the few strides that separate her from the tile
