Written by Paul Gamlowski
It was Tuesday morning, or so I thought.
I couldn't sense my Macro's internal chronometer.
Developed centuries ago, they coined it the Macro.
Shorthand for the 'Macro Chip Device.' It executes instructions and controls our worldly interactions. Embedded in all of us, universal, virtual, and shareable. With our minds free of physical labor, we can think and create at will.
Yet, I woke up, disconnected from my Macro world.
I ran diagnostics, which showed me plugged into the virtual plane, while at the same time, I occupied the physical world. A definite glitch, it made no sense. After many painful tests, I also concluded that I was the real me in the real world.
Strangely enough—it felt cold and empty.
————
I sought out Linda, my girlfriend.
We met for the first time, face to face, during the most recent Reset.
Every five years, the Reset takes us offline for a while. It allows us to repair what's broken and modify our mundane routines.
It keeps us sane by wiping our Macro memories, therefore, eliminating existential angst. It also clears our minds of undesirable worldly interactions.
Thankfully, the Reset encouraged us to continue our Macro relationship.
————
I entered Linda's home, and there her body was.
They once claimed: "Humans make the most agile robots." So we turned our bodies into machines. Her body performed the regular pre-programmed movements controlled by the Macro. It took care of her daily tasks, and learned to adapt.
Meanwhile, a lucid dream encompassed her mind. She thought, created, and did whatever her imagination wanted—without limits.
————
Outside became dark, so I slept at her place.
Till a bunch of noises woke me up …
Linda's body behaved awkwardly—picking things up, manipulating some, while dropping others—as if it were performing a dexterity test.
Her body then stood up, opened the front door, and exited.
I wasn't sure why she was leaving her house at night. It wasn't typical for a Macro routine. In fact, it violated curfew and safety protocols.
So I followed her …
————
She entered a strange building. Then, she went upstairs to a laboratory full of equipment, where she opened a safe by using a gadget I'd never seen before.
"No, Linda. Stop!" I tried yelling at her, but she couldn't hear me.
"Linda, I can't believe you're a thief!"—Of course, she didn't react.
I simply gave up and left for home …
————
I observed a bright light in the distance.
As I walked closer to it, I heard mutterings, then I saw them ...
Two men under a spotlight dragged a large duffel bag. Each grabbed an end, swung it upward, and tossed it into a dumpster. They lit up cigarettes, and one of them mentioned something about a long night. After some time, they flicked their cigarettes, shut the light, and went into a building.
I hid around a corner till I heard no more—
Then, I came up, turned on the lamp, and looked inside the dumpster. I saw a pile of duffel bags, and they smelled putrid, like rotten meat. So I panicked and turned the light off. I wanted to escape, but I couldn't without knowing more.
So I snuck around the building toward the street. And I peeked around the corner.
Rows of people lined the sidewalk—motionless and without facial expressions, like mannequins.
A siren blared, and their legs moved. One by one, their stiff bodies entered the building. Like an assembly line …
Then, I thought about the duffel bags.
And that's when it dawned on me—the unspeakable.
————
I promptly arrived home and hid inside my bedroom closet, where I fell asleep and dreamed of reawakening in my Macro bliss.
————
The next morning, I returned to Linda's home.
I blocked every doorway. Then, I hacked Linda's Macro login and issued a series of commands. It sat her down and disconnected her.
"Linda, are you okay?"
Her lips trembled. "Wait, what, what's happening? Why am I here? I'm cold, and it's so empty here."
"Cold? What do you mean? It's warm, Linda, and there's furniture all around us."
She rocked back and forth. "No. No. There's cold and darkness. I'm so alone."
Her eyes stared upward. "It was like riding a rainbow. Oh, it was so beautiful, and the light, so gentle, and warm, with a cozy embrace. It loved me. It truly did."
I snapped my fingers. "Linda! Wake up! That was just a Macro trance, you're here now with me, in the real world."
She covered her face with her hands. "No, take me back! This is awful! This is a cold and empty place."
I gently pulled her hands back. "Linda, look at me. Your Macro has been hacked. It made you do weird things. I caught your body stealing.
"And I saw something horrific—people assembled in lines to be processed. They were in a Macro trance, but not of their own programming."
She patted me on the cheek. "Oh, dear, your Macro's broken, making you see things."
I said, "Linda, I'm here, you're here, we're both here in the flesh."
She frowned. "No! This isn't real. This is cold and empty. We're in limbo. We're not awake! What did you do to me?"
"No, Linda, this is the real world, don't you see? I'm offline, and so are you. I can't rejoin the Macro. I experienced that same cold and emptiness too. Before I realized what happened."
She cried and sobbed. "No, this is a lie! This is a nightmare. It can't be real!"
Fearing she'd have a mental breakdown, I reconnected her Macro.
————
Years later—anticipating the next Reset.
I haven't gone outside except to fetch for resources. I've seen bodies behaving in horrific and unmentionable ways. And, today, I wonder if Linda was right about our real-world—
If it's now become a cold and empty place.
Comments