Love in a Lift

It was Bobbi, after all. She sat beside me, dressed in smart office wear, her dark hair up in a scruffy ponytail like when I had first seen her. I tried sitting up but couldn’t quite do it.

“No need – please just rest. You were asking for me?”

“Yeah. I wanted to vibe with the facility kuudere,” I retorted sleepily.

“Funny. Would be funnier if I knew what that meant.”

“Have you brought me my lunch money?”

She did laugh at that, her professional façade relaxing somewhat. “I really – it’s amazing how you can still joke around. I think survivors need a sense of humour.” She ruffled my hair, which caught me by surprise.

Suddenly, I craved being held. “Blue –” I blurted out.

She smiled conspiratorially. “Oho. Baby Blue. Another time for her. Good news first: We’ve finally been able to start reducing your sedative levels, as your nervous system has adapted better to external stimulus. You’ve probably noticed being more compos mentis...with touches of eccentricity, shall we say. It’s all about the stats – and you’ve gone weeks without being elevated. So, the numbers are good. Keep them that way.”

“And now, I get a cookie?”

“No, Adem, you don’t get a Millipede Megaquake Circle Cake, but good things will come. I think we can start telling you much more. And you’re in a bright shiny new world, to you. It’s a good world, I promise you. It’s almost time for you to see it and join it. We all want you here, and in many ways, we need you…” She tailed off for a moment. “We were thinking to give you a quick peek outside, as perhaps it would be easier for you to reintegrate if you actually saw you were in the 22nd Century. But we don’t want to push you too far. We could always –”

“– I want to go out. Now. Or as soon as.”

“Okay –”

“– I’ve been cooped up here for ages. I want to see out. And you all tell me it’s a nice place to be.”

“It’s a utopia. Everything is great, or inevitably on track towards it. Considering how things were about 80 years ago, it’s nothing short of a miracle. But yes, you need to see it yourself. I agree. So…”

She stared at me. Then produced her ‘holophone’, and started talking to various people in 3D, a few inches tall, that came out of the phone screen. I was mesmerised.

Presently three guards and a technician appeared, pushing another wheelchair with some sort of equipment attached to it that resembled a small analogue synthesizer with all sorts of buttons and dials on it. Also, there was an oxygen mask and some sort of headset. My bed rotated and raised, the guards got me out and put me in the chair, clipping me into the headset and attaching the wires to my wrist. Metal spikes pressed into either side of my neck, taking my breath away. “Don’t worry,” said the technician named Malik, “It’ll just inject you with tranquilisers or whatever you need to keep you on an even keel.”

I nodded my agreement, carefully, as I was very aware of the presence of those needles.

We began. I was wheeled out of the room, along a long concourse lined with plants. Light beamed in from big glass windows; outside was an Alpine panorama: a grassy meadow with trees, flowers and even a stream. I half-expected some bulky bell-toting Holstein cows to come lumbering forth. “We’re two floors underground, sorry, so it’s AI-generated,” Bobbi said. “As this is an area for recovery and some staff sleep here, we found things like this help with well-being. The light that comes through to your room, through the glass ceiling – it’s artificial, just like that light.”

I felt a stab of disappointment, but we were in a city after all, not some Swiss retreat. My rural yearning for cows evaporated. “Okay. So, what’s outside?”

“I can show you.” Bobbi went over to a console, clicking switches. The lifelike vista faded, along with the sounds. Replaced with a new reality.

The first thing I noticed was: there were long, straight avenues, marked by poplar trees every 20 meters or so. Driverless cars, hovering past about two feet above the ground, moved orderly up the road like a harmonious colony of ants, keeping perfect distance with each other. I didn’t see any billboards, but I saw a huge monitor in the distance beaming down the news highlights, weather and positive affirmations: “Stay lovely and beautiful, New City People!”

I then saw handfuls of the local citizens walking along, mostly with metallic-covered caps, repelling a strong sun from above. Like the cars were, they moved at a serene pace, with expressions of happiness, even bliss, and the ones in groups cheerfully chatted to each other. They were in really good shape, mostly quite young and particularly attractive, wearing the day’s fashion that seemed to be a little more plastic-looking than the materials of my time, with glyph-like markings in various colours as patterns. There were no discernible slogans or brand names. Some had what looked like a glassy, shiny patch over their left eye – perhaps some sort of augmented reality.

No litter. No graffiti, no dirt. Neat, orderly and efficient, pleasant and streamlined.

Minutes passed and I was just content in soaking it all in, finding it as reassuring as an infant’s first swimming lesson when they gradually clamber down the steps into the shallow end.

“I bet that’s pretty awesome for you,” Bobbi said. "Let’s take you up to the roof, so you can get a bird’s eye view of New City.”

As I was wheeled off again, I felt the needles press into my neck quite firmly – I must have been given a tranquiliser shot. Things seemed to darken, and maybe I was only vaguely conscious for a little while. I gradually perked up and noticed that we had entered the main hospital section. We were moving through narrow corridors, with plenty of side doors linking to medical bays and other waiting rooms. I saw diminutive robots come out of one, busily lugging crates of medical supplies. We passed some nurses, then patients, who all seemed like they were enjoying a holiday home rather than enduring a sterile hospital. Their peaceful faces were devoid of all stress and fear. I got waved at, smiled at, and a lot of hellos. The amount of eye contact was truly overpowering! Everyone was noticing me and wanting to be noticed by me.

We entered a big lift, full of other patients, many voicing their excitement at seeing the imminent view. There was a little girl with very angular-looking plaits, dressed in a fairy costume, excitedly tugging at the sleeve of an elderly lady whom, presumably, was her grandmother. “She tripped and knocked three front teeth clean out, this morning at the Cyberpark.” The girl gave me a perfectly natural and complete smile, with nothing out of place. “Hey Mister! I’ve seen you on TV.” I shook my head, trying to speak up but couldn’t. The grandmother, noticing my tied tongue and probably wild eyes, beamed at me and then patiently ssshed at her. Little fairy girl couldn’t be discouraged, though. She darted up to me and collapsed into me with the biggest hug her tiny frame could muster. “You’ll be okay soon, Adem.” How did she know my name?

Bobbi looked down, gave me a happy smile, and spoke quietly to me: “Relax. Nobody thinks the worst of anyone of any gender classification being reasonably affectionate towards children. There hasn’t been a recorded case of abuse for over 60 years.”

The lift went ding and we were on top of the building.

I took in the fresh breeze, then the force from the incredibly hot sun, as I was wheeled closer to the edge.

The hospital was one of the tallest buildings in the city, allowing for a perfect panoramic view. What struck me most were the bullet-shaped, super-streamlined flying cars, not manically tearing across the sky, but moving somewhat more haphazardly than their Formicidae cousins down on ground level, amongst the skyscrapers that heavily dominated New City. It was a vast city, no doubt – and considering we must have been a hundred plus storeys up; well, that made its scale completely mind-blowing. As I scanned the skies, I saw no aeroplanes or jets at all, and no evidence of an airport.

In the distance there were mountains, then vast expanses and fields, then lots of glass domes, and then back to the city again…maybe a sports arena here and there, but plenty of parks amongst the expansion: a vast, tall expansion in all directions. Engulfing me.

“What do you say to that?” Bobbi asked me, with a smile.

I felt myself shaking. Then, I heard an alarm. I couldn’t reply quickly enough before the neck needles activated, and their venomous care sent me into darkness.