Grandmegabytes

She had chosen Shuffle Mode. It wasn’t linear, it wasn’t easy, but it felt like the best option. It felt, somehow, like the pressure was taken off. She could just take it all in, enjoy her duty, and improve. Not a buzz today though, not yet. A slight relief. They had been giving her a headache and she was hoping for a little break, at least until after the treat aisle.

The Store was busy with lots of Friends getting their nutrition. She heard the conveyor belt humming along calmly as the warm shelf lights read her blood, its cubic pockets opening with what was needed. She wiggled and pressed her toes downward to feel the vibrations along the belt as she moved. Her favorite aisle now approached, and she hoped it would afford her a 60% cacao. Not much sugar all week, she thought, so it seems promising.

Her vision sparked, a circular timer in the upper right hand corner. A Moment, 15 seconds to view. Well, fine. She accepted, flicking the Heart open and pressing her thumb into its center.

At this time on April 23rd, 2020, Grandma searched: “hot water cayenne pepper and ginger health benefits”

She scrunched her nose. The shelves hadn’t given her cayenne pepper and ginger today, or ever. What could it be used for? Curious. The Heart closed, falling against her neck as she crossed her fingers. The belt curved along into the sugar aisle, and seemed to be going slower, now, as the Moment faded away just in time for her to see a cacao nugget with her name on it.

“Alexa,” Friends said, “let her rest. The Heart may not be worth the risk. Suicides are at an all-time high. Perhaps… they’re weeding weaklings out. Do you want to be known as one of them? You have a chance to live undetected.”

Company stated it was the only way to get to know her real story. The only way out was through, they said. Look into the truth. Look into where you came from, who your ancestors actually were. This way, they said, you wouldn’t have to echo their mistakes. See why you were in your seed pod for all those years, now finally released into Work with freedom. With freedom, they said, comes restlessness. They promised that with this gift, you would be grounded. Your life would improve. No stones left unturned, they said. Look into who you really came from. The Heart: see what’s running through your veins.

The nugget melted in Alexa’s mouth. She felt so grateful for its vitamins and sweetness. Thank Company for the Store. Now, it was time to start the day. Before leaving, she made sure not to forget to thank the greeter at the door. Eyes, eyes, eyes. Smile, smile, always smile. “Thank you,” Alexa said, looking. Stepping out, nutrition bag in-hand, she unhatched her umbrella. Wow, the sun really was strong today. The Heart buzzed again, but she ignored it, savoring the taste of her treat, walking along the gray path. Replaying her interaction with the greeter, she smiled, proud. She remembered the days where her pod would expand so she could stand up and pronounce their pod anthem: “Focused, friendly, flexible.”

Sure, there were the searches, but there were more types of Moments. Company had allowed collection for twenty-odd years. It was addictive and it was infinite. When the Heart first came out, many were frustrated that they weren’t presented with much of their ancestor’s face or even their body, but primarily footage of ceilings, the insides of pockets, or nothing at all. Yet it was the audio and captions that held the real value.

At this time on February 8th, 2014: A white ceiling, a flash of Grandma’s face up close, her eyes red behind her long, black, heavy strip lashes, her nails lightly clacking against the mic. A song begins. With a thump, the ceiling again. A caption blinks into sight with her voice. “Wicked Games. Again.” A chuckle. “Fuck, this is the 18th fuckin’ time today, dude.” The sound of feet pacing back and forth. “It’s just something about this song. Why is it always when I like something… over and over and fuckin’ over? I’m so sick of this shit, but like, not. I have to love me. I have to, you know?” The sound of a lighter flick.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

The Friends in Alexa’s pod had a tendency to get stuck on certain ideas, a nuisance they had been trained to use for Work, for good. Interesting to see how Friends raised from other pods were so different. That had been a bit shocking, yet it caused a feeling deep inside Alexa hadn’t felt before, a positive one. She was learning so much each day, since she was let out about a week prior. Upon release, she learned that Alexa wasn’t her real name, but it was much better than the one hidden from her, the one given to her by her parents who had been held Accountable. Accountables were shipped off long ago, to the satellites to farm and make products for the better kind below.

Alexa’s work for today was code. She left her nutrition bag by the door. That pod cubicle had been so much smaller than the room she now stretched her arms in. What a joy! She helped the needle into her skin, starting the flow with a satisfying click. She had heard about this stuff for years in pod, and boy, concentrate she did. Not to mention, it made her feel happier than she had ever felt before. She was told the Accountable would manufacture a crude version of it to be happy and “dance,” a wasteful activity. How could anyone be happy unless they were working? Strange concept. No wonder they were doomed.

At this time on July 12th, 2018: Nothing to see but black. Sounds of repeated sniffing, and heeled shoes walking back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly, a man’s voice: “Yeah I know, Ashley, but lately, I just feel like you’re not listening when I’m talking, it’s like you’re somewhere else all the time and you don’t give a fuck about what I’m saying, and shit’s annoying. It’s like you’re not even a real person. Wake up, will ya?” Some keys jangling, another sniff, a ding. “Shit. Cab is here. You ready?”

A low, different voice. Grandma’s. “I can’t wait till this is over.”

Hours of neon-colored code flashed on the walls of Alexa’s room. She chose pink today, and for next time, green. One of the hardest things for her pod to learn was to change things from a set routine. Not all of their ancestors had trouble with this, but the skill was taught anyway, stamped into their minds with a positive checkmark just in case. Even small things, like changing the color of code while working, showed that Alexa was flexible. Flexible, flexible, flexible… so she could focus, focus, focus.

At this time on July 12th, 2016, Grandma searched, “cheek fillers cost” and “how to cover up bitten cuticles for job interview”

It was mostly the searches that held them Accountable. “Unspeakable things,” her pod leader uttered. They knew they were being watched, heard, documented, and they freely gave insight into their rotten roots. Shameless! The things they showed us – tuh! Things that had to be gathered, analyzed, dealt with. The Accountable were all wretched, useless for good. Off to the satellites they went, and good riddance. Rotten roots plucked from the ground, yet the seeds were still sowed, thank Company. “You are,” her pod leader declared, his voice booming out over the hundreds of rows of cubicles, “those seeds. You are the better kind. When you are released, you will have a choice to see where you came from… and why we saved you.”

At this time on July 13th, 2018, Grandma searched, “why do I ask people to repeat themselves so much” and “sacral chakra meditation”

Everyone had a Heart waiting for them. It was a 50/50 gamble. Many claimed they owed their entire lives to it. Finding out who their ancestor was gave them a clarity, a foundation to build their values upon, a heightened motivation to improve for Company. These accounts were heard over and over on the feeds. If anything, Company was respected because they were brutally honest. They cared to tell it like it is. They didn’t shy away from the fact that the truth did come with a price. Most of the Moments were not pleasant. Not one megabyte, not one pixel was spared; you saw it all. Many Friends were either in debt, dead, or checked into facilities because of their Heart. These unfortunates started out fine, but would descend into obsession, logging down every detail and trying to make sense of, or excuses for, their ancestor.

At this time on January 27th, 2021: a full-screen vision, a rare visual shot of Grandma, albeit the camera is very shaky. She’s occupied and driving her car, lashes nearly falling off with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mom, I don’t know, I don’t know, okay? It’s just like every job I go to, these people, I just feel fucking different. It’s maybe like a two-week grace period and they can tell I’m a fucking weirdo. A freak, I don’t know. I get overwhelmed and then I just can’t hear anything. I have to close my eyes and listen to my music and like rub my ankles alone to calm down. Walking helps. I don’t know, I’m just gonna be a food delivery driver. Like, I can’t take this shit anymore.”

Alexa promised not to be one of those unfortunates. She would use the Heart for good. For Company. With Shuffle Mode, it was impossible to become obsessive. Slowly, surely, she would take in her rotten, wretched Grandma and unlearn those habits that may have been passed onto her, that may be running through her own veins. She took a deep sigh of relief. Company had done a good job of erasing roots in pod, but they warned Friends that without a Heart, they could pop up again. Luckily, the necklace, the chance at a way out, was always available. It was such a gift that there was no price to take it off. If you tried, you simply were sent to the satellites.

Code upon code upon code. The bright lines snaked before her as she edited, pupils wide. Focused, friendly, flexible. Happy. So happy. It was such a delight to work for Company, such an honor. If she worked hard enough, she would be nothing like what was held inside her Heart. Such a shame, such a disgrace. Work harder, harder, harder, and shine as bright as the Company sun.

At this time on February 14th, 2021, Grandma searched, “what can I do to be more present” and “do lip lifts last forever?”