Land of the Free, Home of the Brave

[Robotic Voice]: I welcome you, dear Reader. I am Mimi, your Personal AI Assistant. I am tailored to your individual wants and needs. A story, you ask? Sure thing. I'll add it to the shopping cart. Now, I will transfer the requested information into your headDevice.

[Request Pending... 28%] 700 words

Lindsey woke up to her self-tailored, original theme song by Mimi. Living in the best Society, Lindsey felt lucky. She didn't have to be subjected to the torturous lifestyle of The Others.

She was free.

"What would you like to own this morning?" Mimi asked Lindsey the usual greeting.

"Everything, naturally," Lindsey replied the polite response. "But for now, please add lavender jumper and fire to the shopping cart."

Mimi hovered closer to Lindsey's bed, her soft, mechanical hum filling the air as she followed the instructions.

"It's wonderful you're able to Dream so much."

"Speaking of which, how much Life do I have left?" Lindsey inquired.

"Currently, you have Ļ700. This would be a wonderful time to do some Living!"

"Oh, good thinking! I almost forgot to take my Will to Live's. Can you add them to the shopping cart?"

"No problem."

Switching to the Living Theme Song via headDevice, Lindsey beamed at her personal assitant. She was having the perfect day. Quickly checking her goal to upgrade to Capital Max, she looked straight ahead to see the image in her headDevice.

A sharp sound of icicles tapped on Lindsey's window as a drone flew off her rooftop. Jamming the near frozen window open, Lindsey exclaimed, "Wait! I need to feel expressive."

It didn't need to be asked twice. The drone turned, wooshing into her bedroom, opening its eyes and ears.

Lindsey took the microphone and adjusted the camera to her personal liking, but she felt that her headDevice was blocking the perfect shot. Maybe I could slightly adjust it.

Mimi instantly became brown, Lindsey's least favorite color, and hovered closer.

“I just wish it were more individualistic stylish,” Lindsey joked, tucking her light hair behind her ear. "Everyone wears them the same."

But she kept her headDevice on, of course. It hadn't been moved since birth. And she wouldn't be able to do Living without it, which would mean she couldn't add things to her shopping cart.

How else could she exercise her freedoms?

"Hey guys, today we are looking at why people say Mimis are like ancient mothers! Personally, I think it's disgusting that anyone would degrade Mimis in such a way. The Others think the only thing that matters is putting others before yourself, unless it comes to actually important things like Living. I mean, really! Mimis are here to help us Live, not love–"

"Oh we are going to have to cut that," the Drone said.

"Oh, Drones! I must have said something very Deadly. I'm so grateful for the censor settings, not that I can adjust them or remember what you censor..." Lindsey trailed off.

Something was at her window.

Something was moving.

Nothing ever moves. This is her own property that she Lived very hard passionately for. The last time she saw something move was when she dropped her Ļ500 Feel Good Glasses and had to Live for five more days just to add a personal drone to her shopping cart to pick it up and fix it.

Decidedly not a good memory.

Laughing it off as a glitch of her headGear, Lindsey finished her video. After publishing it, she saw on her Dashboard that it was performing even better than yesterday's. Making Ļ50, Lindsey added her food to the shopping cart, and finished the rest of her morning routine.

The Truth Channel played on the right corner of Lindsey’s visual field. She was happy to have such easy and constant access to everything she needed to know. The thought of what hoops The Others had to jump through just to access information made her shiver. They read different kinds of–what were they called again?–oh, papers and even had to choose between different channels.

Thankfully, this amount of overwhelm had been eradicated.

"At precisely morning time, the terrifying pigeon, an ancient creature believed to be a harbinger of Death, was spotted near Skyscraper Park. Discoverers are baffled at the sudden appearance of a previously eliminated danger, known centuries ago as disease. For now, Lifers are Living passionately to get to the bottom of this horrid event. According to current data, no creature has been spotted for the past 150 years, making this an unforeseen miracle curse."

The Truth started a ricochet in Lindsey's mind. A strange word wandered to the tip of her tongue. Something like amulet or abysmal. Animal?

Lindsey felt a chill run down her back, to which Mimi quickly responded.

"Your personalized breakfast, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mimi. Glad I can count on you."

"Anything to distract you, Lindsey."

[Request Pending... 62%] 1550 words

Unexpectedly, Lindsey’s morning was disrupted. A brightly colored, unidentified flying object burst through her window.

Remembering the Truth Channel’s report, Lindsey’s heart sank. She recognized the creature.

The bird, seemingly sentient, flew straight for the hovering drone, knocking it into Mimi. Sparks flew as the two collided, and Lindsey was thrown backward from the explosion.

As she braced for impact with the open flame of the fireplace, something strange happened: the fire extinguished before she could even scream.

The bird, flopped down on the back of a desk chair, and made its comfortable perch there, like a job well done.

Lindsey was disoriented.

Her home, once pristine and comfortable, was now smelly, cold, and filled with chaos.

She was without her headDevice.

Attempting to start her Soothing Song, the one she last played during childhood, she was shocked to find that only Silence was generated.

Thinking she must've run out of Life, Lindsey tried to express her opinion about the pain of falling from explosions, but nothing changed.

Becoming desperate, the headDevice-less woman mustered:

"A–add Sense of Peace to the shopping cart!"

Nothing.

Her attire was missing an enormous piece of metal.

Her visual field, once so neatly curated, was now wide and natural, giving her unaccustomed brain a true Thanksgiving meal of Too Much Information.

Lindsey, for all intents and purposes, felt blind. Her side vision was so underused, she had no experience focusing on things herself.

And of course, she never saw another living being before this moment.

The spacial, social, and any kind of awareness that is required for another breathing creature, was not part of her etiquette. That word itself was not part of her vocabulary.

She only knew commands.

"And you are?" shrieked a cracking voice.

Focusing her eyes to much difficulty, Lindsey turned her head, staring at the monster she heard about on the Truth Channel.

"AAAAAaAaAAAAaAaAaAaaAaaaaaaAaAaAggGHhHhHhHHH!"

This was the first time Lindsey made a sound of her own, without artificial intelligence assisting, purifying and censoring her words.

"Is your speech impaired? Surely, humans still remember how to talk!"

Lindsey blinked at the awfully colorful, foot-long being on her chair.

"You—you can talk?? How is that possible?"

"Oh, good, words. That's a relief. I was worried I'd have to pull this fiasco again somewhere else." He rolled his eyes. "And as for me... science experiment," came the lazy reply. "Do you recall what that means?"

"But you're not coded."

Consciousness creeping back, Lindsey cried out at the debris on the floor decorated by her only companions for the past 32 years.

Grotesque. Unrecognizable. In pieces.

"Please... add repair to the shopping cart!"

Nothing.

Lindsey couldn't access the InterTruth either to ask how to put them back together

or to ask has this ever happened to anyone

or to ask how to stop the weird streams of water on her face...

Wiping it off with an arm seemed to do the trick.

Lindsey froze.

How many emotions and sensations did I add to the shopping cart? Surely half my Life is used up by now. Should I panic or self-soothe? Which one costs Ļ50? Not that I can afford that...

Lindsey experienced her first headache. She wasn't fond it. She'd heard stories on the InterTruth about people who added these sensations to their shopping cart purposefully. Capital Max subscribers had a million privileges like access to these drugs these drugs to profit off the viewership.

Wait, did I just say drugs? Where did I learn this word?

Lindsey's thoughts spiraled quickly without assistance. How to reach her dream Tier with a broken headDevice? Where does one go to get such a thing fixed?

With a sigh at her confused expression, the bird changed tactics.

Waving its wings, accompanied by, "HelloOooO?" He introduced himself, "I'm a parrot—Rainbow lorakeet, to be exact. We used to be common to Australia, that your species renamed OceanaCorp. Like many other birds, I have wings that can fly, and a beak that loves nuts and fruit. But I am decidedly not a pigeon, although they are wonderful creatures that your species destroyed like mine. Can't believe your algorithm thinks you'd be more interested in a pigeon as opposed to a parrot."

Lindsey opened her mouth, but the bird interrupted.

"My name is Ylberi. I need your help."

Help?

[Request Finalizing... 99%] 2475 words

Lindsey never anticipated leaving her apartment. She couldn't image the Life Balance that would require. But Ylberi was a very convincing guy–bird, whatever–telling her (rather sarcastically) that moving past the horrors of what happened to her could be easier if she were to distract herself with something new.

The word distract felt safe and familiar, therefore, Lindsey figured it wouldn't drain her Life Balance.

With shaky hands, Lindsey stepped into her new reality. But before crossing the threshold, her chest tightened, a sharp sensation pressing at her ribs.

"Wait," she gasped, clutching her chest. "I should bring my headDevice."

Ylberi’s stayed silent, like he knew something Lindsey didn't.

She glanced one last time at her dreary apartment containing a broken Mimi and a discarded drone. She whispered a goodbye, hoping the action wouldn't bump her down to Life+.

Taking a hesitant breath, she stepped outside.

"I think I liked my apartment better."

"And my kind preferred the rainforest," Ylberi snapped, voice dripping with impatience. "But it looks like we can't all get what we want. No snow in Australia when I was born either. Stupid weather enhancers." His wings flapped forward. "And I couldn’t have lived 400 years back then."

Lindsey squinted at him. "Why is everything so..."

"Ugly?" Ylberi asked.

"Well–" she shook her head slightly to get accustomed to the word she's been censored from her whole life. "I remember skyscrapers, flying cars, bright screens everywhere. Everything was supposed to be breathtaking."

"News flash: everything is running on auto-pilot. The USL is gone. It's just technology doing what it was programmed to do."

She couldn't believe him. And two blocks in, Lindsey’s breath came short.

Sweating, freezing, and exhausted, a grim thought surfaced.

"Are you... getting me sick?"

"Ha! I'm surprised you even know what that means!" Ylberi laughed, eyeing her as she staggered. "How much exercise did your Mimi make you do?"

"How much what?"

"I see. Well, now you’ll get plenty! Your immune system will thank you."

Certain the parrot was speaking a made up language, Lindsey stepped over another cracked part of the pavement filled with trash.

A blonde girl sat behind a shattered window, drooling in her headDevice. Drones circled above her armchair, responding to expression requests, spraying something into the air.

Are they cleaning? Stopping disease? Whatever it is, it sure isn't working.

Lindsey’s stomach lurched. Her Life Balance was likely at the Life Pending status now. But she couldn't stop thinking.

Was everything she saw in the virtual world a lie? What happened to OceanaCorp?

Hours later, Ylberi said, "You must climb over this fence."

After fighting over what the word 'climb' meant and that Lindsey could, in fact, not fly the way Ylberi could, Lindsey bit the inside of her cheek as she jumped down the concrete wall into another world.

Unknowingly, she crossed into Signal Shadow Territory.

Grab.

Keen.

"Green!"

Ylberi laughed at her realization.

Lindsey's breath hitched. The sweetness that filled her lungs was heavenly. Clean air.

Real air.

Dreamily, she asked, "Can I own this?"

"Certainly not," Ylberi grew cold. "This way."

Through a mossy forest, Lindsey marveled at the beauty of it all. But the peace didn’t last. They soon encountered a group of humans: darker-skinned, ragged, and without headDevices.

The blood froze in her body.

"They're... Others!" Lindsey yelled at Ylberi accusingly.

He flew on her shoulder. Despite her struggling, he grabbed onto her tightly, and looked into her eyes, pleading.

"Marisa is dying. I need your help. You have the cure, we only need–"

"No, no, no!" Lindsey ran as far and fast as she could, but soon fell into something soothing and wet.

As she shook herself, frustrated at her clumsiness, she saw her reflection in a puddle next to a roaring stream. Parts of her face were torn apart and red. The traces of her removed headDevice were imprinted on her body forever.

With a hesitant breath, she turned back toward where she came from.

Toward danger, toward the unknown.

"Told you she'd be back," Ylberi smiled.

"I think you might need this," she said, handing her headDevice over. "Save her."

Dr. Sana lit up and said a gracious, "Thank you."

He worked quickly, his hands steady as he used the chemical compounds from the headDevice to craft the cure. The flickering light of the fire cast a glow on his face. And the clock kept ticking.

Marisa's condition was critical.

The weight of Lindsey’s actions hit her then. The ease of the life she had known, the comforts of her premium existence, suddenly seemed embarrassing. She asked, "Is she sick?"

"Not for much longer. She's my daughter."

Drinking something that resembled algae water, Marisa regained her color and energy. The group, elated, gathered around her. Ylberi nuzzled Marisa's cheek lovingly.

"You brought her back to life," he thanked Lindsey.

An ancient language surrounded them in a warm embrace. Words that meant nothing to Lindsey, but goosebumps formed on her skin in understanding. The melodious speech was mystifying, Lindsey finding herself swaying and humming with the others to take part in it.

She began to feel that they knew something she had long forgotten.

Finally, Lindsey did not worry about her Tier or her balance. She noticed the connection around her, and didn't flinch at the forbidden word.

"Maybe I didn’t need to own everything," she whispered, almost to herself. "Maybe I just needed… this."

A radiant flower with seven hues caught her attention. She wasn't mindful of it before. But it reminded her of someone special.

"It looks just like you," she told Ylberi.

He flew on her shoulder, and made a perch of it, like a job well done.

"You know, you're starting to resemble it too."

And with that, Lindsey felt alive.

[Request Complete]