Unplugged

"Session logged out. Please lie still while the neurometers eject."

The sensors attached to Irez's forehead fell away like the wisps they became when not in use. Every tendril cast its own kind of allure in the great web of the Scape—and everything it allowed its users to access while they were Plugged into the experience.

Irez glanced out the bedroom window to see the blank white sky that no longer bore the cover of clouds.

She stifled a sigh and ran her fingertips over the heart-shaped locket she wore as her one tie to the material world. Everything else—the clothing, the make-up, the shoes—were throwaway things that could easily be replaced with new shipments from the Sectors and their stockpiled warehouses.

Irez thought of tonight—the party with the Sector officers, all the time she'd rather be losing herself in the wonders of the Scape—and frowned.

Being Unplugged was the worst thing you could be in this squandered world.

*

Her partner, Nevva, tapped her shoe against the smooth surface of the kitchen floor. Irez could see the vine-like strands that made Nevva's eyes go unfocused, like she was concentrating on something no one else could see. Nevva had always been a fan of opinion pieces on the structure of the Ascension Project and what it had spawned in the aftermath of the Great War.

Irez shook her head, an impatient sigh at her lips, before she waved her hand in front of Nevva's face. "I thought you said we weren't using the Scape tonight."

Almost immediately, Nevva's eyes flickered back to attention, and the micro-strands for temporary use receded from Nevva's scalp. "Sorry, I was reading something for work."

Irez wanted to roll her eyes. Work. Right. She had secretly gone through Nevva's stash of neurometers before, only to find all matter of conspiracy theories and rebellion sympathizers who wanted to see the Ascension Project fail. But Nevva couldn't say a word: Irez was one of the proxies to have volunteered from day one to inhabit the Scape and report her findings.

And honestly? Being in the Scape was better than existing in a partnership that had outstayed its welcome a long time ago.

"Are you ready?" Irez asked, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice even as she held out her hand for Nevva to take.

Like all appearances they did outside their dome-shaped home, Nevva took Irez's hand only once they were in the public view—never before. Such was the way of a successful, if boring, partnership for all the feeds on the Scape.

*

At the meeting with all the higher-ups from the twenty-one Sectors that made up the Ascension League, Irez kept to the outskirts of the party-going while Nevva tried to network with her new surveillance of freedom fighters in the areas outside the Sectors. The Scape had yet to go worldwide, and other landmasses still didn't have the technology grid and simulation records to make a pleasing and palatable Scape for everyone. But soon. Irez had hope that the Scape would be the last great triumph of the human race.

She fiddled with the heart-shaped locket, twisting it on its chain and wishing more than anything that she were walking the Scape right then. When she needed to be grounded, she centered herself with the feel of the cool metal against her hand. Each moment was a breath, a sigh, or a heartbeat. She counted them forwards, backwards, going all the way from one to a hundred, all of the monotony bringing her a sense of peace.

"You look ravishing as always, Irez," a man from her test group said as he leaned in to brush a kiss against her cheek. She hated the feel of touch now, especially when everything felt feather-light in the Scape, and most nights she couldn't stand to sleep in the same bed as Nevva anymore.

Overly familiar men were a scourge of all generations, she had learned through her studies of social constructs in her Academy days.

"I think I make even more of an impression in the Scape," she said, a titter of a laugh bookending her words just to make him think she was being friendly with him. But she hated the largeness and solidness of people, especially when they were within breathing distance. At least in the Scape she could narrow her senses down and mute certain sensations like sense of smell. No such thing was available to her in the Unplugged world.

"You do make an impression," the man, whatever his name was, said—and she could have gagged for the edge of flirtation there. Didn't he see the marriage brand on her wrist? The two lines parallel, the now-universal sign of a contracted partnership?

"How kind," Irez said, not meaning the words at all, before she added, "I have to go find Nevva, my partner, now."

She had no compunction with walking away, even though it made her seethe that he probably watched her with every movement as she exited the conversation.

Outside, in the cool manufactured air of the dome, she took a bundle of micro-strands from her purse and placed each thread along her temple. Immediately, she was able to control her senses, and she blocked out scent, taste, and hearing until all she could do was see and feel.

It was like basking in a pool of her own making, and she almost could have drowned in the sensation. How had anyone ever lived a life where they were assaulted by the myriad of their five senses? It was maddening, utterly maddening...

But the calmness was replaced by chaos when someone ripped the neurometers from her head. Irez gasped, as if she were coming up for air after having been underwater, as all her senses returned like waves crashing over her.

"You tell me all the time about the Scape!" Nevva said, holding out the micro-strands and shaking them in front of Irez's face. "But I'm not the one who has a problem! You do! You're addicted!"

Almost immediately, as soon as she was assaulted by the smells of the artificial garden and the noise from the party inside, Irez drew her fingers back to her locket. Center yourself. Don't get angry. Breath, Irez, breathe...

But the look on Nevva's face—of betrayal and hurt and frustration—told Irez that this wouldn't be just another argument smoothed over by a long talk about Scape semantics.

Nevva might really leave this time, but Irez wasn't so sure she'd miss her.

After all, what was a partnership if she could have the Scape and all its capabilities all within reach?

"I don't know what you want me to say," Irez said.

The lines in Nevva's face grew deeper as if she were aging right in front of Irez. "Try to get help. For us, Irez, please,"

It should have been an easy decision, but it wouldn't be. Not for Irez.

*

Hello. My name is Irez. I'm thirty-one years old. I have qualifications in the areas of Data Science and Scape Analytics.

I'm here because my partner Nevva believes I have a problem. She says I spend too much time in the Scape. But it's part of my job. And doesn't the Scape exist to offer us our greatest dreams made into reality? I get so tired of being disappointed, you know? And the sensations—sometimes it's all too much that I need to get away.

I just don't want to live a life Unplugged. To live that way—it's like I'm denying myself miracles and wonders and otherworldly phenomena.

Don't you see? We can make the impossible possible all through technology and the power of our minds. Isn't that amazing?

Can you really say your life is better Unplugged? Can you? I don't think so.

Try to prove me wrong.