A Ghost in the Tube

Eliza stared at the elevator and took a deep cleansing breath. She had been through this before with her psychiatrist and knew that her fear of the closed in moving closet she was about to get inside was just that. “Just a closet that moves up and down,” she mentally told herself. She had been seeing Dr. Deanna Stirling for over two years for her claustrophobia and was now ready to face her fear this time. She had failed her last ten attempts to board the elevator. She did not know if it was something that had happened to her in her childhood that evoked her physiological hyperventilation response to just the thought of getting into a small closed in space or if it was perhaps a flaw in her personality with control issues and an unattainable desire for perfection. Her physician had discussed her fear with her while coincidentally monitoring her blood pressure and watched the inexplicable rise so had referred her to Dr. Stirling. At least by climbing stairs her entire existence as far back as she could remember had helped her achieve the cardiovascular health of an Olympic athlete.

She was leaving work at the high-rise tower in downtown Megopolis and though going downstairs would be easier than climbing, she had a notion that traveling down in the elevator would not be as bad as going up and getting out into a long hallway that led to her desk. She remembered that she had forgot to grab an important bit of work and was about to turn around and head back to her desk to grab it when the elevator doors opened.

It was Sunglasses again. Eliza did not know his name. She only knew that some of the times she had stood there breathing, contemplating, trying to push down her irrational fear, he had been on the same elevator that she had decided was the safest one. If only she could muster the courage to just get on the damn thing. This was the largest capacity elevator in the building, and she had watched for the servicemen to safety inspect it to satisfy her O.C.D.

Sunglasses never acknowledged her or asked if she was going down, he simply stood there, oblivious to anything but whatever was going on behind those mysterious glasses. What did he need with sunglasses on in an elevator anyway? Was he blind? Was he mute? He never spoke. She was doing it again, creeping herself out of riding. Once she saw him, she turned-on heel back to her desk to grab her work and promptly headed for the staircase, “Only 41 flights,” she mused. Perhaps her problem was not with the closed in closet but the fact that it moved. She had to be in control of her own movement. Maybe that was it.

Eliza stepped off the last step of the staircase and opened the door to the street. She headed to her usual cab flagging spot, and opened her bio screen from her left forearm, selected cab from her quick menu. She let out a sigh of dissatisfaction with herself for not getting on the elevator. She had prepared herself mentally, meditated, took her medication, and still could not make herself get into that fucking moving closet.

She arrived at her apartment building and felt relieved that she did not have to climb stairs or get on an elevator to go home. She had waited for months for a ground floor apartment and finally when this one opened up in a decent neighborhood and far enough away from work to allow her to feel like she had escaped her daily duty collecting a paycheck to barely survive in the big city, she moved in the middle of February to her sanctuary.

She opened the door to her apartment and was greeted with, “Maaow,” her Siamese cat, Jasper brushed against her legs wrapping his tail around her knees. She reached down and petted his head as he pushed his head into her hand making gurgling trills through his deafening purr.

Eliza tossed her purse and briefcase onto the recliner and similarly crashed into the couch. She kicked off her high heels and pulled the Aztec pattern throw blanket over her head. She had an MRI appointment in the morning that previously was supposed to be an open one. She did not like MRI machines. This was going to be another challenge for she had received notice that the open MRI was broken. She could not get an open MRI for six months and the knot in her right breast had been there for four.

She had dozed off for what seemed like twenty winks when a loud boom shook her awake. Alarms were going off, rushing to her front door she opened it and was greeted with spray on her face from the hallway sprinklers. The silence was eerie except for the ‘ssssp’ of the water overhead. Voices disturbed the tranquility and then a distant wail of a siren lazily hung in the smoggy evening air. Her corner apartment ground floor bedroom was collapsed in, and she could see a dump truck had crashed into her bedroom. She heard Jasper still in the apartment crying and opened the door. He shot out into the hallway, then quickly retreated when he stepped into the puddles of water. He hissed his contempt and ran back into the hallway bathroom.

Abruptly, as if nothing had happened, she woke up in her bed. She stifled a scream and slammed her fists onto the soft mattress. Always the doom dreams, no matter where she moved. “No matter where you go, there you are,” she whispered into the darkness. Her adopted mantra from her ex-boyfriend still lingered in her mind. Jasper was purring and gazed at her from the end of the bed. Her eyes and his met, and he gave a soft trill letting her know he was always watching over her. Her ex hated Jasper. Eliza knew the feeling was mutual as Jasper frequently gave Colin a growling hiss of disapproval. Even when Colin attempted to play with him with a toy, his green eyes narrowed, followed by a one, two, swat with his paws, and always a low, throaty growl when he came within six feet of him.

Eliza was wide awake now. “No rest for the wicked, eh Jasper,” she said. She glanced at the clock, 4:13 am. She decided an extra hour of sleep was not worth it and got up, showered, and dressed for her imaging appointment.

Eliza did not own a car. She lived in Megopolis and believed it to be a waste of money and resources to have a car. It was the year 2175 and the only people who owned cars were the same people who owned private jets or flying cars. Driving was a lost skill. Even if you owned your own flying car, it was linked to the super navigator computer and you simply told SNIDR (Southwest Navigation Integrated Destination Relay), the address you wanted to go to – and away you went. The super riche folks did not want to wait for a public transport, even though the wait time in the city was less than a minute. Most of them were extreme germaphobes, and/or believed themselves to be so much better than the common folk, this was how to distinguish themselves from those of lesser value and avoid touching things that lesser people had touched. Her left arm vibrated, and she opened the screen -it was a voice and text message reminding her of her appointment and instructions. The MRI was an outdated technology, but only the super riche could afford the Computerized Atom Scanner and Multiple Imaging. The technology was so sophisticated that disease was eliminated among the upper class who could afford it. The ancient ones, those who lived to be at least hundred and fifty years old, often with multiple cloned organs, skin restructuring, and genetic anti-aging manipulation appeared no older than mid-thirties.

She checked in at the front reception, and sat down next to an obviously older woman, and opened her forearm screen to check in with work, and make sure her time off was being handled. She had the rest of today off. She had gotten a demerit two months ago when she went to a dentist and was late returning. Her neighbor had found Jasper in the hallway of her apartment building and was keeping him in her apartment until Eliza could come get him.

Of course, she went home to collect him and put him back in his own domicile. She never did figure out how he snuck out under her feet that morning. She had petted him before she left that morning so she knew he was inside before she left for work. He was seven years old and in his prime. She could have purchased a disease free cloned cat that was guaranteed to live 25 years, and of those, most lived 50, but she wanted a normal, unaltered feline. She also could opt to have his DNA frozen so when he dies, she could get a Jasper #2, and he would have the same personality and appearance and she would never be without her beloved companion. To her, that would be a soulless mirror image, and she could never have the same bond with a cloned copy. It was bad enough that humans could clone themselves and the riche often did. Afterall, if you are rich, why not live forever?

Her number appeared above the back-office doorway, and she walked over, held her arm to the reader and the door lock mechanism opened. She was already starting to breathe heavily, and when she turned the corner into the imaging room a light appeared above the dressing room adjacent to the machine. She was already intimidated gazing at the tube she was going to be closed into and an artificial voice came over the speaker said, “Please remove all jewelry and clothing and slip into the gown provided for you. Eliza can you confirm your date of birth and medical number?”

Eliza replied, “November 25, 2130, and my medical number is 595426378941.”

A.I. responds, “I have been monitoring your vitals and you appear to be in some distress. You do not require authorization for sedation according to our records you are diagnosed with ‘Claustrophobia.’ Would you like sedation? The cost is $3,500 if it is a non-covered benefit with your insurance. If it is a covered benefit, the out of pocket cost can vary. Would you like to review your benefits to see if this service will be covered and your cost?”

Eliza said, “No, I spoke with an agent yesterday and ‘yes’ I would like sedation.”

Eliza knew that her out of pocket cost was going to be over a thousand dollars. She knew it would take her a year or better to pay it off on her medical credit card. She did not like going in debt, but it was for a good cause, her sanity was at stake.

A being stepped inside the MRI room with her. “No way,” she said out loud. It was sunglasses. A message appeared on her forearm screen. “Pleased to meet you, I am Neff.” This was one of those A.I. humanoid workers. This was why he wore sunglasses! All the technology in the world had been unable to capture the soul in the eyes. The eyes were mottled in appearance and devoid of anything resembling love and light. No wonder she had been so creeped out by him/it! “I am not comfortable allowing you to put medicine in my arm, can I please have a human technician?” Her blood pressure and heart rate sky rocketed.

“I am programmed to never harm humans and my accuracy is 99.975% in treating humans. I have never had an accident and never had a glitch requiring memory wipe or re-programming. I am safer than my human phlebotomy technician counterparts.”

“I don’t care!” she screamed. Neff gently grabbed her upper arms and his sunglasses fell off as Eliza threw her forearms up at him. She felt a stick in both of her upper arms and her body collapsed as blackness came over her staring into soulless marblesque eyes.

She fell into a dream where all she could see was the mottled eye swirling like a cyclone. She was approaching people she knew on the street, in her hometown, at her office with the black mist roiling all around her. “Hey! Can’t you see me? I am right here in front of you.” She was shaking them by the shoulders and shouting about old times and trying to get someone to respond to her. No one heard her or saw her. She was now back in her apartment, and Jasper had those same eyes! He did not “Meow,” in greeting. He had a strange mechanical purr. The scene shifted again, and she found herself in the MRI tube, but it was open with a glowing light similar to the old suntan beds from the 1980’s. Jasper leaped up onto her lap and for the first time ever, spoke, “You must come with me, now. It is time.” Jasper had his old green eyes.

“What is going on?”

“I am your cat and best friend. I died when I got out. Your neighbor had me cloned because she accidently killed me. She did not want to tell you the truth.”

Eliza stared into space still reeling from the words coming from her cat. She could not see his muzzle moving so he was telepathically communicating with her.

“Neff was following you because it was his assignment to monitor your activities and health problems before this procedure and assess you for cloning. You have suffered a heart attack, Eliza. You have been scared to death.” Neff is not programmed to administer heart resuscitation. The program is quite expensive, you see, and it is far cheaper to clone you.

“Why am I here in this place with you?” Eliza queried.

“I waited for you. Your soul is free now, like mine. We are unaltered and pure, so we are moving on to a better place. No more elevators, MRI tubes, bad dreams, or creepy androids.”

Eliza set Jasper down and stood up. A glowing staircase appeared. They mounted the stairs side by side, and Eliza smiled, mused to herself, “Of course there are no elevators to heaven.”