NothingGold.Exe

She didn't mean it. When Mommy said I wasn't real.

I sniff, wiping tears from my eyes as I struggle in the small space to which she had confined me. I grip the gold locket which contained the picture of me and Mommy. In the photo, Mommy crouches beside me, her arm looped lovingly around my neck. I can remember the way the dock creaked beneath my flip-flops. The way the leaves had turned to gold on the other side of the sparkling lake.

Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief.

A poem. I can't remember where or when I'd heard it. But it seemed fitting. It made me sad as I stared at the picture... The picture taken back when the lake was still there.

When all the lakes were still there.

The closet was dark and crowded with discarded appliances. I struggle to peak over the vaporator--a small metal device, about the size of a trashcan--that homes use to produce water from molecules in the air.

Small ones like this had stopped working a few years back. That's when the wars started. Wars over the city-sized ones that could pull the molecules necessary to create water from Otherspace.

"Think of Earth like a desert island, sweetie," Mother had explained while braiding my hair. "A desert island where all the rivers and ponds have run dry. The most ideal situation would've been to leave the desert island. And--you know what 'ideal' means, right?"

I nod, wincing as she pulls at my hair. "Mhm. It means best."

I can't see her face, but I can hear the smile in her voice. "Right. Best. But part of the reason the island is a desert is because we... because people... used up everything on it. Even the trees that could've been used to make a raft. So we needed a way to find water without leaving the island. So the plants... those huuuge, city-sized structures... what they do is pull the matter... the stuff to make water... from a different island."

I scrunch up my nose. "Different how?"

I make a noise when she tugs at my hair again, but Mommy is too lost in thought to apologize.

It's okay. I know she doesn't mean it.

"How to explain this to an eight-year-old?" says Mommy, mostly to herself.

"It's like... behind the desert island--the island we see--is another island. An invisible island. Trillions of invisible islands, actually. And some of those islands have water. Well... the matter necessary to create water. And that's what the plants are doing. They are creating water using material from another universe."

I nod, certain I understand. "And that's super-provisional trans-splatter?"

Mommy laughs. I love when she laughs. It makes me feel warm in my chest.

"Superpositional transmatter," she corrects with a smile.

"Is that what you were exposed to?" I ask. "Is that what's making you sick?"

She pauses, letting the braid drop against my back.

She gently turns me toward her. Her lab-coat is white and pristine. The face on her nametag smiles at me--as always--but her real face does not.

"I don't want you worrying about me, sweetheart. It's a mommy's job to worry about a daughter. Not a daughter's job to worry about her mommy."

She tries to assure me with her eyes, but I look away. To the orange bottle on the kitchen table.

"But the medicine. What happens if you don't take it? Will you... will you..."

The word catches in my throat.

Her eyes glisten with tears before she pulls me close for a tight hug. "It's not that kind of sickness, dear. Mommy's not going to die from exposure to the plant's processes."

I pull back from her. I wipe my eyes and sniff. "So what happens if you don't take it?"

A loud knock pulls me back to the present. To the dark closet of discarded appliances. The place mother had thrown me, when she'd said I wasn't real. My arm hurt from where she grabbed me. But my heart hurt even more from the cold look in her eyes. The cold tone of her voice.

I finally make it to the keyhole. I can see blue and red lights flashing as Mommy opens the front door.

I begin pounding on the closet door frantically, knowing they must be here to arrest her for what she did to me. Knowing they must be here to take me away from her. That's what the man with the glowing, semi-translucent notepad and mean face had said last time.

But she didn't mean it. I know she didn't!

The pills had run out shortly before the cyber attack, back when the cars had started crashing. And the pharmacy was far. Too far to walk without a vehicle.

I remember her looking down at the pill bottle, the worry that drew fine lines across her forehead. I stood near the entrance to the kitchen, pulling on my fingers as I stared at her. She crosses the kitchen to me, dropping to one knee.

She rubs my arms. "Hey, it's okay. Remember, daughters aren't supposed to worry about mommies."

I choke up, a tear spilling down my cheek. "But without the pills... you... you'll change."

A broken smile twists her lips, as a tear falls from her eyes. "No, sweetie. Mommy will never change. I will always love you. I will always want you. When Mommy acts strange it isn't because she's changed. It's..."

She trails off, looking for the words.

"Remember the desert island? With trillions of invisible islands behind it?"

I sniff and nod.

She rubs my upper arm. "Sometimes... Mommy... forgets where she is... sometimes she feels like, she's not on the island with you... but on one of the invisible islands. Sometimes, she... sees... the invisible people that live there. And she can't tell which people are from the real island--the one with you--or the invisible one."

She looks off to the side, her voice a husk. "Or even if Mommy herself is real."

She shakes her head as if trying to shake away an unpleasant thought before continuing. "But that's all in Mommy's mind. It's not real. The real Mommy is this one right in front of you."

She touches the gold locket on my chest with two delicate fingers. "The one who loves you more than anything in the entire universe. In all the universes. That's why, this time, Uncle Jeffrey is coming to pick you up, and you're going to stay with him for a while."

I feel a chill run up my spine. I shake my head furiously. "I don't like Uncle Jeffrey. He's not even my real uncle!"

Mommy tilts her head as if to tell me I'm being silly. She touches my cheek. "Mommy likes him alot. And he's the only one she trusts you with."

The garbled chime of the officer's walkie-talkie pulls me back to the present. I strain again to look through the keyhole. The officer hands Mommy something small and gold. It glitters against the blue and red light emanating from the cop cars outside. I don't catch what he said, but it sounds apologetic. And sad.

Really, really sad.

Mommy's stopped listening, staring at the small gold object in her hands, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. I turn my ear to the keyhole, catching snippets of what the officer is saying.

"...down to the station... identify the body... Do you need more time, ma'am?"

I return my eye to the keyhole, just in time to see Mommy shaking her head in reply.

The officer sighs heavily, but nods in understanding. "Where is she?" he asks.

Mommy points at the closet to which she'd confined me. I rip away from the keyhole, pressing back against the appliances in terror. I can hear the officer's heavy boots thudding across the living room.

The door creaks at the officer slowly pulls it open, his form towering over me. I scramble back from him as he carefully lowers into a squat.

"It's not her fault!" I shriek, my eyes blurring with tears. My lip quivers as I cower by the vaporator. "Don't take me away from her!"

Mommy's arms are crossed as she stares at me blankly from across the living room, a small gold locket, identical to the one I'm wearing, dangling from her hand. The officer's smile is gentle, his tone much warmer than Mother's hollow, emotionless expression.

"I know this is confusing, Marie. But Dr. Robinson... now that she knows what happened... she's chosen not to move forward with you as a part of the grieving process."

I shake my head in confusion. "Grieving process? What are you talking about?"

"I'm so sorry. The program. It just wasn't real enough to help her say goodbye. And now that she knows what happened to... well... she just wants to grieve the old-fashioned way."

Mommy rolls her eyes and growls in anger. "Do you really have to talk to it like that? Can't you just throw a switch and be done with it?"

The officer looks back over his shoulder at Mommy. "It's a complex program. We can't just wipe her. Some portion of your daughter will always remain. And she can be damaged if we traumatize her at this stage in the process."

There is venom in Mommy's voice. "It's not fucking real. And the sight of it is fucking traumatizing me. What a load of bullshit. A load of fucking bullshit!"

She throws the locket across the room in a fit of rage and despair, it lands on the floor just behind the officer. It's open. I can see now that it contains the same picture of me and Mommy by the lake that resides in my locket.

Mommy has broken down into sobs, leaning on the edge of the kitchen table. The officer's voice is soothing and compassionate. "I'm sorry, Dr. Robinson. And not just that we couldn't find her in time. The program... it helps most parents through the grieving process... most..."

The officer turns back to me. "Maybe next time... with a new face... a new virtual intelligence... it can help another parent say goodbye to their child."

I shake my head in confusion and horror. "New face? W-what are you talking about."

"Nature's first green is gold..." he murmurs. "Her hardest hue to hold..."

He delicately pinches the locket on my chest with two fingers. His voice is hypnotic.

"Her early leaf's a flower... But only so an hour..."

He presses down on the button which pops the golden lid.

"...Then leaf subsides to leaf..."

He turns the locket toward me, and I blink in shock. It's empty. A gold slate where the photo of me and Mommy by the lake had been... the photo which had someone made its way into the identical locket on the floor.

"So Eden sank to grief..."

Suddenly... I remember where I had heard the poem. Back on the cold metal table. In the sterile white lab at the police station. The technician had recited it as the cord had poured her into me. Marie. Well... not strictly her, but an estimation of who she was... from every public camera that had watched her, from every text she had sent, every webpage she had visited. Measured against those of Mommy...

Her Mommy.

And this was always how the protocol ended. With the words of Robert Frost.

The officer looks into my eyes as he invites me to initiate final shutdown.

"So dawn goes down to day..."

I give Mommy... her Mommy... one final loving look. It might not have felt real to her. But to me...

I turn to the officer, giving him a final nod of surety, as I say the words which end Marie.

"...nothing gold can stay."