Under My Thumb

Hugh left Salina, hoping to sleep for thirty minutes before getting out of bed. She puts her head on her shoulder, holding her body close to hers. They haven't talked about love yet, but Hugh was asked about its existence.

They had met three weeks earlier. Aside from her obvious beauty, Salina's sharp wit and expressiveness of worldly ideas impressed Hugh. Best of all, he shared his contempt for the State. Anyone can commit to that, as long as you trust someone else not to let you in. He had expressed his position while openly whispering during the enthusiasm, "I am an opponent." He later asked how he could jeopardize such acceptance early in their relationship. The feeling of women, he could not say with a hint of knowledge.

During breakfast, Hugh blocked his identity online to read illegal vid stories. Salina poured a bowl of grain.

"Today's current story shows that the State is planning mind-learning sims. Shit!" he said.

"I'm sure an honest person planted that story to scare us," said Salina. "Mental learning is impossible. Sims are like humans like computers. They have no magical power."

Hugh applauded his belief, but he did not agree. The Sims had already been able to detect political trauma, anger, and contempt through face-to-face contact. In public spaces, sims translated people's responses to State of the Nation announcements and recorded them in a database. It was not far off that they could develop algorithms that make mental learning estimates based on these observations. After all, a political controversy was not a crime as long as offensive ideas were not always written or spoken outside your home, the last place of privacy. But opponents were carefully watched.

"The State is already monitoring our actions. I am convinced that the claim is justified. It has been five years since we were allowed to challenge anything. This is just one of their intentions to gain full control.

Salina looked up at her corn cob and frowned, then gently squeezed her hand.

"We still know a sim from a man with his cobalt eyes. But it's too late for them to develop a natural iris. Or start using a human one," she added as Salina nodded. "Then we will never know who the person is compared to Sim and everything will go to hell."

"Yeah, hell. Sometimes I forget we're not there anyway," he said sarcastically. Salina throws her leftover grain in the sink, then wraps it around Hugh's back, and reads the story from his shoulder. His scent made him want to put her back in bed, but work was waiting.

Before closing the page, Hugh copied the text and pressed his thumb on his vid.

"What are you doing?" asked Salina, her voice rising in shock.

"I keep this in my journal."

"Do you have a journal on fingerprinting? My God, Hugh! Don't be arrested for that!"

Hugh shifted in his seat. "We have to keep a record of State cases. One day we will need documented evidence of everything they have done for us."

"Did you risk a black market to get that drive embedded in your thumb?" His voice moved a little.

"Yes. That's the way it is for me."

"Do you put your own ideas into it?" Salina's face is sad.

Hugh hesitated. They had shared their conflicting ideas for a long time as friends and lovers, but now he looked at her as if she were a traitor. He gave the assurance, he would not point to her in his writing. The campaign consisted of a collection of articles and notes written under State control.

Salina started to cry. "Why don't you just keep a book written under your mattress like anyone else? By putting it in your body, you take political opposition out of the home, wherever you go!"

"The thumbprint machine is not available to the naked eye. No one will be able to," Hugh insisted. She stopped crying and touched him.

"I loved you, you know," he whispered.

"Salina, what -"

"They said I could go on with you as long as you don't break the law. But now that is wrong. Forgive me." His hug turned into physical pain as he twisted Hugh's arms behind his back and tied his wrists together. He resisted, but his power proved three times over.

Hugh fought hard to move his locked arms. "Are you a sim?"

He didn't have to prove it. His eyes are fixed on space as he mentally communicates with his superiors. He will be taken to jail within 20 minutes.

"Wait! You said you loved me. We could just finish the magazine. Pretend it never existed! Why are you finishing what we have?" They both knew his life was on the line.

"I'm sorry, Hugh. This is how the government works now. We go into people's beds and minds, and strip them of their last. I'm ashamed of their wickedness, but there's one way I'm truly different from you. I can't disobey the plans."

"Please, Salina," he pleaded earnestly. "Find a way around your plan so you can free me without disobedience."

Salina's eyes sparkle as if to give her a good idea. Managers will be coming soon, for sure.

He loosened his wrists and tightened his thumb on the table. He pressed his thumb of his own. Electric power flows through his hand.

"I am writing on your opposition papers and notes of meetings with the trustees. You will be charged for trading blacks, but after paying the fine, you will be free."

Hugh's heart sank. "I will be portrayed as an honest person. That is not freedom. They will force me to check on friends and turn people away. They will inform their agents that they will fix me!"

Salina finished the job and put a finger of love on her chin. "I've found a way around my plans. Now you get yours."