Cat's cradle.

Lonnie waited at the counter for the store-serving person (non-android) to notice him. Artfact was the kind of shop Lonnie tended to avoid. ‘HISTORY IS NOW’ was their logo, written in the golden glow of faux-Cyrillic script that wound its way round the apple- bright walls in a natural way like the torn page of a diary. The store-serving person (non-android) stood mesmerised by the wash of a screen. She was young in a way that Lonnie, with hair that looked as if it had been chewed by Zelda his cat, could never remembered being. Her skin was baby-lotion and the dart of her smile shark’s teeth, as she switched her attention from the screen to Lonnie’s baggy grey jacket, greenish trousers with a hint of blue and socks that screamed clown because they were white and therefore not right.  

            ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I wasn’t aware of you, but now I am, I feel better for it. How can I help you?’

            ‘I’ll just wait for the robot,’ said Lonnie, scratching at the back of his neck, his watery grey eyes skittering away from the gold-flecks in sea-green irises, that had him thinking of implants and all sorts of thoughts he didn’t want to consider, certainly not in female company. He was aware of a musty-old-man smell and he was sure she could smell it too.

            ‘Let me see,’ she said, holding her hand out. The wristband he was modelling glowed a gold colour, as if she could read his thoughts.

            Lonnie sighed and passed his hand over his wrist, separating the band from skin. ‘The Wisdom Apps not working right,’ he said. ‘But it still works,’ he was quick to say, in case he got accused of disharmony and punished. ‘It just…  I get muddled. Everything I say and everything I do is no longer as sweet at you.’  

            ‘You know today is like yesterday only with the scent of roses,’ she said, pushing his wrist band under the pulsing lights of a scanner.

            Lonnie sniffed at his ochters again and took a step back from the wrap-around counter. He wondered if he had farted, something was off, and since there were only two of them in the gallery section, he figured it must have been him.

            ‘That’s funny,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen that before. Not even the day before. Your courage levels are down. There’s a synaptic reduction in ambition. Your pride level is below the recommended dose for optimal health and self-esteem.’ She nodded as the wrist band glowed green. ‘That’s better,’ she concluded. ‘You’re behind on your rent and you’ve lost your job. Challenges like that can only produce a new and brighter you.’  

            Lonnie tried to think of something to say, to make her feel better, but without the wrist band and the app-support it provided he was stumped, and stood slumped, leaning on the counter for support and sweating like a menial dork. ‘I have struggled to be free,’ he said, trying out his voice. ‘But all I can think of is my new life isn’t going to be any better than my old life. Same shit. Different day.’

            ‘Oh no,’ said the girl, ‘that’s a mistake you’d never make. We can increase the voltage on the ontological continuum to the max. At first you’ll feel a little depressed, but you’ll understand better why you’re depressed and that knowledge will empower you to be the person you want to be.’

            ‘I’m not sure I want that.’

            She gave him a few seconds to change his mind before she switched off the smile. ‘I really shouldn’t be telling you this but when you get to your age the wisdom app loses its spark. We can give you an upgrade, but that wouldn’t be wise as I can see from your wristband that you can’t afford it. You’ll never be able to afford to upgrade even if you live a standard 510 years. I’m going to introduce you to one of my android assistants and they’ll take you through all of the things you need to do next. I’m sure you’ll be happy when you’re not sad.’

http://unbound.co.uk/books/lily-poole