It's Only Temporary

Hope took a deep breath as she entered Quiescence. The building melded with the muted evening sky, a gentle blue gray. The inside was equally inoffensive, cool pastel walls and carpet. A receptionist sat behind a desk that appeared to be real mahogany and his crisp white button down had clearly been tailored. The artist in her could appreciate the way the windows focused the light on the plants scattered throughout the lobby.

“Good afternoon,” he chirped. “Welcome to Quiescence. Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, Hope Bell.”

“Of course,” the receptionist said. He stood and led her to a back room. The room was small, but clearly designed to be as nonthreatening as possible.

“Christine will be right with you.” The door remained open as the receptionist returned to the front desk. Hope wasn't sure how long she had so she cautiously explored the room. She began at the bookshelf which seemed to only hold recent bestsellers, none of which had been read or even touched. Hope didn't hear or see anything, but she got the sudden impression that she was being watched. She turned and saw a blonde woman in a blue dress.

“Good morning,” the woman said, same cadence as the receptionist. The carpet cushioned the tap of her heels as she approached the desk. “Please sit. How can we help you?”

“My friend Jessica recommended me,” Hope continued, sinking onto the stiff leather coach against the far wall. A recommendation wasn't required, but encouraged. “She said you helped her with a dentist appointment.”

“Oh, yes, that's very common,” the woman, Christine, said. “Is that what you'd like help with?”

“No,” Hope picked up her purse and dug through it. Despite her best efforts, she could never keep it clean or organized. She pulled out the ticket and placed it on the desk. “I got a traffic ticket. Normally, I'd just pay the fine, but I didn't run that light.”

“Of course,” Christine said, scooping up the ticket without looking at it. She typed something into the sleek black laptop she'd brought with her into the room. “So, it looks like that would be six hours, eight if you want to be safe. And the court date is tomorrow?”

“Eight hours sounds fine,” Hope said, crossing her legs and then uncrossing them again. “And I'm sorry for the short notice. I was just trying to figure out what to do.”

“Not to worry,” Christine said. “We can work with any time frame. We pride ourselves on that. It's very safe and all our staff are very effective. Plus, if you do have to go to prison, we can cover that as well.”

She laughed, high and airy, and Hope tried to mimic her.

“Jessica was very positive about the experience. But she said there was some kind of injection?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “Quick and nearly painless.”

Nearly.

“The chip is inserted subdermally, but your skin will naturally push it out within thirty six to forty eight hours.”

“That sounds okay.”

“Perfect! Here's our contract, please sign here and initial here.”

Hope gave the contract a perfunctory glance and signed with only a twinge of dread.

Someone grabbed her arm and Hope looked up to see a young man in a lab coat. She hadn't noticed him come in. He had a needle in one hand and Hope looked away as he injected the chip into her forearm. She barely felt the pinch.

“You're all set,” Christine, standing again and somehow ushering Hope out the front door without seeming rude, a skill Hope had never learned. “Thank you so much for visiting and please let us know how it goes.”

Hope stumbled back home, took a shower, and went to bed, not as relieved as she thought she'd be.

When she woke again, it was late afternoon and she was dressed in a floral dress she bought, but never wore. She preferred pants. There was a notice on her kitchen table along with a card from Quiescence. Her ticket had been vacated. Huh.

A couple weeks later, Hope visited Quiescence again. Her first trip had gone well, and the chip had popped out of her skin a day later, just as promised. This time it was Christine who welcomed her when she stepped inside. She ushered Hope straight to a back room with a cold hand on her arm even though she didn't have an appointment and the lobby was full of other people.

“Hope, right?” she said, smiling with gleaming white teeth. “How did your court date go?”

“It went well,” Hope said, even though she was sure Christine already knew that.

Hope hesitated, but Christine seemed content to wait.

“I met someone,” Hope began.

“That's wonderful”, Christine said, her hands open on the desk, leaning forward in a way she'd surely practiced.

“He's really nice,” Hope said.

When she didn't continue, Christine asked. “How can we help you?”

“It's just. First dates make me nervous. I can get along fine after that, but it's just that first impression. I either talk too much or not at all. I fidget.” As if providing an example, she started tapping her fingers on her thigh.

“And you'd like to go quiet for the first date with him?”

Going quiet. That was what social media had started calling it. Quiescence was beginning to take off. Cutting edge technology. Someone to take over your body for a short period of time. Take care of any unpleasantness you didn't want to deal with. Great for people with phobias or anxieties, which everyone seemed to have these days.

“Well, I'm not sure yet.”

Christine cocked her head to the side. “I thought you had a good experience the first time.”

“I did,” Hope reassured her. “I'm just not sure it'll work well for dates. Is it a person or robot who controls me?”

Christine laughed. “I'm afraid that's proprietary information, but I can assure you that our technology works wonderfully for dates. Our chips monitor your body movements, your expressions, and can mimic them perfectly. It's even better since you've used us before. No one will ever know the difference.”

That didn't really reassure Hope. It seemed too personal, almost invasive.

Her phone buzzed and Hope took the opportunity to break eye contact with Christine and compose herself. It was a text from Lance. Looking forward to tonight.

She really liked him.

“Okay,” Hope said.

This time when Hope woke up, she stood in an unfamiliar kitchen, a microchip clutched in her hand. There was a knife in her other hand and blood dripping from her arm.

“Oh, no,” Lance said from the doorway. He was shirtless in plaid pajama pants. He rushed over to Hope and bunched up paper towels to press against her injury. “What happened?”

“It must have slipped,” Hope said, her mind still whirring.

Lance clucked his tongue and maneuvered Hope so she was sitting at the kitchen table. “I'll take care of breakfast. You get that arm cleaned up.”

Hope nodded and left the kitchen. She should find the bathroom. Where was the bathroom?Second room on the left it turned out. As she washed the cut, she noticed that there were two toothbrushes balanced on the edge of the sink. She opened her clenched fist and watched the microchip disappear down the drain with the water turned pink with her blood. Looking in the mirror she saw she had a necklace on over her dress. She wasn't normally a fan of jewelry. She turned the heart shaped locket over and read the engraving Happy Anniversary.

When she returned to the kitchen, Lance had put together omelets with spinach and cheese. Her favorite.

“Thank you,” Hope said. She mechanically ate the food in front of her and tried to keep the conversation with Lance going as well as she could.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked when he finished. She must not have done well enough with the conversation. He kissed her forehead. “You don't have a fever, but you're acting a little strange. Did you want to stay home today? Or you could make a doctor's appointment and go quiet.”

“I think I'll just stay here.”

“Okay,” Lance said. “Let me know if you change your mind. I need to stop by Quiescence today anyway for my meeting with my boss.”

“I won't change my mind,” Hope said.

Lance shrugged and gave Hope a hug as he left the kitchen. A moment later she heard the shower start. Hope stood. She needed to figure out where she was.

The first room she found was the master bedroom. The king sized bed hadn't been made yet and it was clear two people had slept there. From the doorway she could see inside the closet. She recognized a few of her clothes, but the rest was filled with men's suits and unfamiliar clothes for a much bolder woman.

She heard the shower stop as she found the nursery. The room itself was all pastel greens and blues. In the center stood a crib, fish and dolphins and whales hand painted on the wood. Hope could recognize her own paintings. An ocean themed mobile jingled in the morning sun. Inside the crib cooed a baby, no more than six months old, with curly brown hair and huge blue eyes. He had Hope's nose.

Lance hugged Hope from behind, placing a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck.

“I can never get over how beautiful he is.”

Hope nodded mutely.

Lance looked at her a beat too long, but let her go. He had gotten dressed in one of the suits she saw in the closet. “I'm going to be late for work. You take care of yourself. I'll keep an eye on him through the monitor, so you don't need to worry. Plus, we can get him set up for Quiescence next month.”

She looked around and noticed for the first time all the cameras. The baby even had a monitor on his tiny wrist that gave out information on his heart rate and breathing levels.

Hope nodded again. She heard Lance leave. She didn't move until she heard the front door close. The baby grasped for her and Hope stumbled backward. She raced out of the house and towards the remaining car. It must have been hers, because the key she found beside the door worked.

She had no idea where she was, but the GPS led her to Quiescence. The sign outside announced it as the original location. One of thousands across the country. Again, the lobby was full of people, but Hope stormed past everyone. The receptionist yelled at her to stop, but Hope didn't pause.

Someone grabbed her arm. It was Christine. She hadn't aged a day and smiled at Hope with the same cheerful, friendly smile she always wore. “Why hello Hope, what can we help you with?”

“What happened?” Hope asked. “How long was I quiet? It was supposed to be one night.”

“There must be some sort of mistake,” Christine said, leading Hope further into the building, “Are you unhappy? Your last art show received wonderful reviews and you and Lance have a beautiful child together. Riley, right?”

Hope didn't even ask how she knew all of that. “That's not what I agreed to.”

“Of course it is,” Christine said, still smiling. Without thinking, Hope reached out to slap her. Christine caught her arm and clucked her tongue. She turned Hope's arm over and ran a cold finger down the cut where Hope had dug out the microchip.

“I'm afraid you've broken our terms of service,” she said. There wasn't anyone in a lab coat this time. Christine injected her and Hope went quiet.

Although Hope lived to seventy two, had three children and five grandchildren, and won several awards for her art shows, she didn't wake up again after that day.