Lifestream

Lifestream

Dive into possibility.

Jerry Perry

A drafty breeze settled into the courtyard and beckoned the spotted begonias into an electric dance. The sun shone through the glass reflecting off of the screens that lined the hallway outside the main conference room. We’re set to unveil the newest Lifestream with an upgraded feature they’re calling “Posturity”- some stockholder’s not-so-clever quip on posture and posterity. Think of it as an automated form of muscle stimulation which can simulate a healthy lifestyle so you can extend your experience inside your lifestream, without the musculoskeletal degeneration we’ve been witnessing over the past few generations.

Nobody wants to be outside anymore. Nobody except me, it seems.

Over the past few days, I’ve been planning a weekend of activities down at the river where my mother first taught me how to paddle and I’m excited to share that with Aubrey. She’ll never forget the first time she sees a waterfall and I’d much rather listen to the roar of the water crashing down than today’s presentation.

“It’s pertinent that we communicate the benefits of posture that the new Lifestream provides. No more aches and pains in between streams for the present user-- even if they don’t plan to procreate,” Archie was saying as I shifted focus back to work.

11:55 AM blinked lightly in the upper right foreground and everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Roema took over audio for a quick recap of the launch schedule.

The commotion inside the atrium was hardly discernible aside from the occasional turn of phrase as voices echoed off of the cold glass windows and pearly marbled floors; I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything associated with work.

“There seems to be some sort of correlation between the apex and the Eyeron transmitters,” someone from the development team stiffly snapped at Archie just on the far end of the bike rack.

His hands gestured to cut it out, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow in private!” Tugging at the heart shaped locket he was tucking neatly into his shirt, he nodded goodbye and pedaled away steadily.

Tendostenosis is a constriction of tendons that inhibits the host ability to stretch; it’s quite literally their achilles heel. They know what the apex frequencies are doing and they’ve been trying to cover it up for years. If this information was to come out there would be mass protests. The implications are vast seeing as virtually all humans had begun Eyeron therapy in their teenage years to better immerse themselves in the new world. Many of the problems that had been plaguing society for millennia were no longer as important. As we emphasized more time inside the lifestream, we deemphasized many of the major issues that fueled the culture wars and shaped our social strata.

In the lifestream, everyone is equal. Brand new. Reborn. You’ve got your memories and your knowledge but you can be any body you want to be. Tomorrow, I’m going to be my mother’s son.

Later that afternoon, Aubrey was still in her lifestream when I got home, and I decided to surprise her with her favorite classic dish from the early 21st century— sashimi, sea foam and tapioca. When I pinged the kitchen with a picture, she darted through the doorway smiling.

“So what exactly are we doing tomorrow?” She was asking between bites.

“It’s still a surprise,” I said walking away to check on the battery in the transit.

Just on the outskirts of the city adjacent to the river was a series of housing units that many people used for holidays and the rare party that started outside of the lifestream. It wasn’t often that the river was a crowded place to be, but we happened to see a few friendly faces along the way. At one point, I made eye contact with a dusty haired boy who was unloading their transit and we exchanged a familiar smile to one another. Maybe his mother was going to take him paddle boarding like mine did.

Aubrey sat in the back seat with her feet propped up and her eyes fixated on the screen she had folded down in front of her, smiling at whatever excitement was at play.

“Aubrey?” I said as I twirled the seat around facing her. “How many waterfalls have you been down?”

“Wait what?”

“You know- like in the first nature guide when it’s showing you the wonders of the world outside. You’re floating down a river at night and learning about the zodiacs in the sky, and how humans used to tell time through stories with them as the main characters. Just as you’re starting to get bored with it, you drop down a waterfall and the lifestream shows what pure unfettered exhilaration can feel like before you dip graciously into the warm hot springs at the bottom.”

“I don’t think I’ve visited another waterfall since. Why?”

“Well, your grandmother loved them. She talked about the sheer power of all of that water. How a river could cut through earth and shake loose mountainsides. She said it put a tremble in her heart because of how far away we had gotten from it.”

“Is that where we’re going?”

I shot her a grin and turned my chair just in time to see the outstretched valley ahead of us. “Open the roof to the transit.”

“Dad!” Wind swept all through the fuselage roaring wildly through our hair.

“Close the roof to the transit!”

I laughed and apologized, but she just adjusted her screen to look past me, twisting her locket around in her fingers.

We continued speeding past rows upon rows of sun drenched silvery tunnels that reflected centuries of innovation back at us. We had been taught that just as humanity was barreling towards ecological collapse, the European Union beckoned the world to embrace a carefully planned future with a strong emphasis on polyculture aqua farming. In an attempt to recreate biodiversity, we can supplant diversity back into the Earth. Eventually, as carbon levels continued to rise, people were forced to move further inland as hurricanes threatened the coastal communities, while droughts eventually pushed large swaths of land to an almost barren state. Nowadays, everybody lives in one of the megacities and only those who work within the Eco industries really ever venture outside.

As the evening really settled into the night, we lounged further into rest and the moon lingered about brightly in the empty fields that circled our view. The windows eventually tinted as Aubrey lay back to rest, and I thought of that day with my mother when she first showed me the water. I was terrified to push away from the arms that extended from the dock holding the board steady. Just as she leaned over to push us off together, her ring slipped from her finger and disappeared in an instant. I started to waver nervously, as if for a brief flicker I was trying to catch something fragile, and she steadied me with her softest, “that’s alright,” and reassured me that “not every piece of jewelry is an heirloom.”

Aubrey’s slowing breath eventually rocked me to sleep and I reclined my seat anticipating tomorrow’s adventures.

I could hear the morning traffic as I was buzzed awake. Repositioning my necklace as I sat up, “Launch 9 AM” blinked softly before me and I took a drink from the UVC bottle I had next to my bedside. It’s been the same dream every night for three weeks. I never understood how important our memories were until I was no longer able to share them with her. Everything feels new again, but like it’s been rehearsed. Her new experiences were something familiar for me, and even though she didn’t know why, she could feel it, and so could I.