The Big Day

He pushed briskly through the wooden framed glass door, the little bell above tinkled, almost inaudible compared to the noise of the traffic and bustle in the street, not to mention the hammering of the torrential rain. The door swung closed behind him, reflecting the bright neon and LED from the many sources outside as he shook himself to lose the excess rainwater.

He ran his hands through his hair to wring the water from his long dark locks, wiped his face and proceeded towards the counter where a young woman was leaning, engrossed with a small screen embedded into her forearm. She looked up and smiled as he approached.

'Dammed rain. I can't believe that this place was a desert not that long ago?' He tugged his earlobe to remove an annoying drip of rainwater.

She straightened up, still leaning but now projecting her modest bosom forward as she appraised the handsome man in a sodden navy coat.

‘Is there something I can help you with? You’ll need to be quick ‘cos we close in ten minutes.’

He half smiled back. ‘Ahh, yes. I won’t be long. You see, it’s my big day tomorrow and I want to get something for my wife.’

She pouted slightly and tilted her head. ‘You look too young for that.’

He chuckled slightly as he bent down to look closer at the jewellery under the counter. ‘The years have been kind to me.’

She nodded, her platinum blonde hair fell forwards, covering her eyes. She pushed it aside and tucked it behind her ear. ‘Well, do you see anything you fancy?’

‘No.’ He stood up and looked further along the counter. ‘I want something personal, like a locket. Do you have any?’

She met his dark, soulful eyes for a second and swallowed before answering. ‘Of course. Two seconds please.’ She remembered that she should speak in a more professional manner as she headed down the counter and dropped to her knees where she pulled out a tray covered with gem encrusted silver and gold. She brought the tray back and placed it down on the counter top in front of him.

‘I’m afraid this is all we have right now.’

He looked down at the tray. ‘Thanks.’ One of the lockets caught his eye. It was a gold heart embedded with rubies. He pointed to it. ‘Can I see that one please.’

‘Certainly, sir. This is one from before the war. The red ones, rubies. They're quite hard to find these days.’ She detached the locket from the tray and held it up by its chain. She let it dangle for a second before dropping it slowly onto the palm of his hand. He examined the front and back closely before flicking it open. He nodded his head and snapped the locket closed.

‘It’s perfect. I’ll take it.’ He handed it back to the assistant.

‘Of course, sir.’ She tapped on her wrist screen a few times. ‘That’ll be twenty-five thousand credits please.’ She watched his face closely for any sign of surprise or reluctance to pay but there was none. Clearly this guy was loaded as well as hot. My kind of guy. Shame ‘bout tomorrow, she thought to herself.

The iris of his right eye glowed orange briefly as he authorised payment within his personal HUD interface. Her jaw dropped slightly when she saw this. An optic HUD! Not just loaded. Filthy rich! Could have charged double He probably wouldn’t even flinch. She shook her head slightly before asking ‘Would you like it engraved?’ He shook his head. ‘Or gift wrapped?’

‘Thank you but no. I have to be going. Goodbye.’ He pivoted and headed for the door as he stuffed the locket into the inner chest pocket of his coat.

‘Wait!’ She called as she quickly followed him towards the door. He stopped abruptly and turned around.

‘Before you go, do you fancy…’ She stopped and adopted her most seductive stance and raised an eyebrow, smiling as she licked her top front teeth. ‘Seeing as it’s your big day tomorrow.’

He looked up and down her long shapely legs, silver micro-skirt and tight white shirt. She was very pretty too. He was tempted, but with the use of much of his willpower, he shook his head.

‘I’m flattered, but I can’t. I have to get going.’ He smiled slightly, nodded and turned to leave before turning to face her again. ‘Here’s a different kind of tip.’ His eye blinked orange and she felt the screen on her wrist vibrate. She looked down to see that he had credited her with a million credits. Her jaw dropped. She looked up to see his back as he left the shop. Numbed by the shock of receiving a small fortune, she slowly walked to the door and locked it.

He wandered the streets for hours, oblivious to his saturated clothing and the cold that chilled his bones. He relived his life in his head, muttering to himself until dawn broke. He wasn’t ready. Did he have to do it?

He found himself at city hall. He looked up at the imposing structure before going in. Going through the door, he heard a female, but obviously artificial voice in his head through his aural chip. ‘Welcome Robert Thomson. Please follow the directions on your HUD. Have a nice day.’

He slowly trudged through the corridors until he got to where he was going. A sign above the door said, ‘Register of births, partnerships and deaths.’ He went inside when the voice in his head said, ‘Please report to room twelve.’

He was shuffling now, his internal dialogue battling inside his head. This isn’t what I want. Can I avoid this? But I must. My family expects it. Society expects it.

Before he knew it, he was at room twelve where the door slid open ahead of him. Inside, his family waited, sitting in rows of chairs with their backs to him. Ahead in the centre of the room facing them was a throne with a smartly dressed middle-aged man standing beside it.

‘Welcome Robert. I am the registrar. Please come and sit down.’ He gestured at the throne.

Robert’s mind was reeling now but he was unable to do anything except as he was told. He staggered forward and slumped onto the chair to face his family, who all watched with stony faces, except for a woman in her mid-thirties who wept softly.

The artificial woman’s voice spoke. ‘Robert Thomson, you are a titan of industry. You have achieved so much more than we expect from our citizens. You have greatly helped with the rebuilding of our nation. For that reason, you have been granted the maximum lifespan available. A full fifty years. Now that time is at an end. Do you have anything to say before you are de-chipped?’

Robert reached into his jacket and pulled out the locket. ‘Put the chip in here and give it to my wife to remember me.’ He pressed the locket into the registrar’s hand.

‘As you wish.’ He turned to the gathering. ‘And now, we say thank you and farewell to our brother Robert.’ With that, he pushed a button on the side of the throne. Metal sheets erupted from the floor, encasing the chair. A muffled roar could be heard for a few seconds, followed by a brief whoosh. The cocoon retracted into the floor again, revealing the empty throne.

The registrar reached behind the throne and pulled out a small computer chip. He slipped it into the locket and approached Robert’s widow with a sombre expression.

‘Something to remember him by.’ He then smiled. ‘I’ll see you in two years and eighteen days.’