Chapter Text
The side streets near the Port of Alanticus teemed with chatter. The crowds gathered dressed in filth and rags despite the whispered rumor that the Emperor Lucius Verus and his young wife, The Empress Samantha were to personally see to the auction of the newly conquered Persian war slaves. This was a great victory for the Roman Empire. The Persian army was as feared as it was admired and the victory was a costly one-
“Stop!” Images whirl and blur. Blinding light fades to black. I am unimpressed.
{WAS THAT NOT TO YOUR LIKING?}
The Machine It asks. This is an idea I had. Figured I could use a mental vacation.
{SHAW-}
I cut It off.
I’ve asked It to stop using all caps. Stop using her voice. It sounds like her. It’s yelling in caps. It’s making me angry. It’s not a she or a her, It’s well, It’s an It and that is all It will ever be. It does not listen. I mostly tolerate It using her voice because I kid you not It sounds like It will cry…never stop crying really if I tell It not to use her voice. We have an understanding. This thing. This machine. I got stuck with It once they all died off. Leaving me with It. It has new minions running the numbers now. I just roam the Earth. Haven’t found my purpose. Haven’t cared to keep fighting.
The war was over. The other It was destroyed.
It’s a long story.
This here is another story.
Its about halfway to nowhere where I am now. The Machine, It won’t leave me alone. So I’ve learned to live with It. It talks me constantly. It won’t let me move on with anyone else. I kind of think It’s jealous. Like if I met someone new at a bar in Morocco for example, It would find me there. It would arrange through a set of mathematical calculations all manner of distraction to keep me from engaging anyone to move on with. Fires, jilted former lovers, arrests, all planned and organized to keep me from having even a moment with someone new.
It said, says.
{ITS WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED}
Me I’d shake my head and down my drink and move on to the next city never quite believing It. It would start all over again. It says that Thornhill Industries was all over the world. In every city was someone just waiting for me. With an envelope and money and car keys and anything else I would ever need. It says again, {ITS WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED}What about what I want? So I ask one night in Rome. It’s been three years since she was killed. Three years since I ever felt anything close. Three years since It started whatever this is. I wonder if she would have been jealous of It talking to me? So close in my ear...
{“PRIMARY ASSEST SHAW. WHAT WOULD YOU WANT IF I COULD GIVE ANTTHING TO YOU?}
Back then I was Primary Asset Shaw. Now I’m just Shaw. Never quiet understood the all caps thing… It also knows that I really can’t take her voice this early on a Monday morning.
{ITS WEDNESDAY}
There’s a lot of deep breathing I do. I do it to remain calm. To attempt calm. Because truthfully I hate that my life has been reduced to this. I use to be somebody. Now I’m just this…lost empty thing…that talks to an artificial super computer. Deep breaths are all that keep me from throwing this phone out of the window. Not like it would really matter, peace and quiet would be interrupted. It would just send someone new to find me and bring me a new phone.
“What do I want? I want some music playing right now.” I say. In her voice The Machine laughs and plays The Cure for me. “Let’s Go to Bed” starts playing on the satellite radio the hotel provides. It has her sense of humor. Her sense of flirtation.
{ANYTHING ELSE? SOMETHING EXSISTENTAL MAYBE?}
Its my turn to laugh. A real hearty laugh because how can I not laugh? Is laughter an emotion? A reaction? These are the kinds of questions I ask now. I was never supposed to care. Never supposed to feel. Never supposed to let her in. Her of all people. How in the hell did this all happen again? I lay in this expensive hotel in Rome. Staring at the ornate features that line the ceiling. Elaborate figures of sculpted men and women with swords and shields and armor. I laugh because one of the last things I did with her was watch Gladiator on TV while I pretended not to notice how good she smelled after 9 months of forgetting what she smelled like. That heat of her near me, the scent of her all around, it grounded me. Reminded me that through all those 7 thousand simulations there was never scent. Her scent reminded me that this was real.
Little things…
She leaned in closer than close. That smile. That smile. Just a deep breath cause I couldn’t think long enough to feel. She said to my ear, leaned in close that one day and whispered and licked and hot breath... “When this is all over, I’m going to chain you up in a leather gladiator outfit and punish your rebellion, your willfulness…”
Lick, suck, bite, lick, suck, bite…She was going to make me hers and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. That’s the kind of woman she was. All take, mostly give... And after 7 thousand Sims I was so eager to let her have anything. To give her all of it. Even if it meant dressing like a Halloween character to get it.
“After three years of wandering this planet...well I’ve come to the conclusion that…” I drifted off. Again…this happens a lot. Lots of times actually. It may not be all Its fault that I can’t move on. But It doesn’t need to know that. I mean It probably knows everything...
{SHAW?}
{5 MINTES HAVE PASSED? DO YOU WISH TO NOT CONTINUE THIS CONVERSATION?}
“I want you to build me a simulation...” I sit up in bed. Run my hands through my hair. I know It can see me through the camera that is housed in the phone. I look right at the phone. I want It to see I am serious. I am committed. I want this.
{SHAW…SAMEEN…ROOT wouldn’t have-}
“What did I say about using her name! I…I don’t…I don’t want to hear it. Can you do this for me or not?”
{SAMEEN, THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA. NOT ADVISABLE. IT TOOK 2 YEARS 9 MONTHS 36 MINUTES AND 12 SECONDS FOR YOUR REALITY TO RETURN TO NORMAL SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE LEVELS. I CAN NOT IN GOOD CONSCIENCE INTRODUCE YOU INTO A WOLRD OF UNREALITY}
Haunted When the Minutes Drag comes on next as The Machine and I have a stare off. The music is fitting.
“Yes you can. And you will. You know what will happen if you don’t.” The Machine It sighs. It uses her voice to sigh. For a moment a second really. It’s almost like talking to her. Almost…
{SAMEEN. THREATNING… YOUR…FINE… I WILL BUILD YOU A SIMULATION}
This is how we really begin. With the Machine building me a better world. Building me another life. A ultraverse. Everything I am, was, ever will be is in this simulation. She will be there. She is alive. I can feel her. I can feel. It’s just well…
It takes a long time.
-
“It’s not a good beginning. It should start in the colosseum. The crowd the blood the spectacle. She needs to see what I can do. That’s the only way this will work. She needs to see me in combat, she needs to know what I am capable of. What her jackoff husband will never be able to give her. She needs to be repulsed by my violence, and wet for it at the same time. Do you understand this? What I’m saying? This has to begin in the arena. In front of the public. It’s the only way it’s going to work.”
As I rise from the Simulation Chair. I swear the Machine sighs again. It’s been doing this a lot as of late. The monitors in the lab all show the same paused image. It’s Root. She’s dressed like a goddess. White flowing silk, gold embroidery. She’s sitting high in the parapet of the arena. Slaves fan her with large peacock feathers, her idiot husband laughs at the carnage the arena has displayed. There is an evil glint in her eyes over the brim of her wine goblet. She’s perfect. The changes I’ve asked for are perfect.
{SHAW, IS THIS A MORE SUITABLE BEGINNING?}
I stare at the paused image for a long time. Just taking her in. It’s Root. And she is perfect. “I think you finally got it right. Now start from the beginning. I really want to get into this fight.” I strap myself into the Simulation Chair. I re-adjust the IV Line. Thanks to The Machine thinking so well in advance I won’t need sustenance while I’m under. I can be under for a long time. The VR goggles actually fit now. The new sizes It ordered have made this much more comfortable.
“It’s a perfect beginning. Thank you.”
{SHAW?}
“What?” I answer tense. I wanna get on with this. There might be drool like an hungry animal would have if dripping meat were around.
{….HAVE FUN. YOU KNOW THE TRIGGER MECHANISM IF YOU WISH FOR YOUR RELEASE BEFORE THE EXPERIATION TIME}
“Yes…ugh… you couldn’t pick something less cheesy?” Goggles in place as the drugs and nutrients mix into my blood. The Machine, It laughs again at Its own personal joke on me.
{WHATS WRONG WITH THIS IS SPARTA?}
TBC…