Chameleon

Alone again. Better off this way, for everyone.

I was left alone for the rest of that day, so I had ample time to rethink my approach to the facility and its staff. When the visits resumed the next morning, I spoke cautiously and superficially to those who came to see me (Bobbi and Blue were notably absent). A few days later, Dr Fisher offered to begin with me a ‘psychiatric evaluation protocol’, for the purpose of starting my release process to society, as he conceded they had no reason for keeping me there anymore on a physical basis. I presented as calm, maintained I had been confused probably because of the reintegration and the shock of losing my family (and that was true enough) but I didn’t trust anyone too much in the facility based upon my own traumas, and was working towards my release into the community. Don’t give them any excuses not to let me go free.

My anger had been channelled, not dissipated. I was still seething below my cordial surface, but I had plenty of ‘reasons’ to pin that on. At least physically I was in excellent shape. One evening, I ran for a hundred kilometres straight, just for the challenge. Not going to lie, it did hurt afterwards – but my fake, false body just didn’t want to break down at all. Sadly.

Blue was brought up with me by a psychologist I hadn’t met previously, and I just rehashed what Dr Fisher had said to me: I just needed someone to ‘save’ me, it was infatuation on both sides and better to move on and heal, then one day possibly seek a mature relationship with someone I didn’t ‘need’ but simply chose to be with. I said it all flatly and tried to block out all thoughts of Blue while I talked about her. Thankfully, that was that. It wasn’t even my own heart I was breaking anyway…

I don’t know if Blue kept her job or not, that was up to her now, but it remained an area fenced off in my mind – a no-go area that maybe one day I could have the wisdom and perspective to deal with. Or not. My policy of keeping my mind as empty as possible continued. Thoughts were just inconsequential clouds that came and went – less and less so, thankfully. I never really used the computer console to find out more about the outside world and the 'Adem obsession'. When I logged in to record my physical training data, I noticed more and more emails piling up in my inbox. I marked them as read and that’s as far as it went.

Dr Fisher had philosophical books sent to me – actual physical books from the University Library archive – as he knew that was the reading form I had grown up with. I really appreciated that sentiment, but I mostly skimmed the tomes. However, I liked reading the chapters about purpose and higher calling. If I was going to have any reasonable life in this world, regardless of how ‘Shiny’ it was, I needed something beyond being a Gym Cyberbunny. I had learned the basics of the Kazikawa contract – if I was relatively well, and no danger to anyone else, then I would get half of my inheritance as a lump sum, and half as monthly payments based upon interest accrued over the years, for as long as I lived. I was going to be very wealthy indeed. Honestly? I didn’t care. I hadn’t earned a penny of it. I wasn’t sure if being wealthy in the modern society would be all that amazing anyway, in a body and a life that still didn’t feel like my own.

When the final evaluation came, I passed it comfortably. I just told people what they wanted to hear, stated my obvious trust issues and presented congruently: job done. And I said that yes, I would consider being some sort of ambassador or working in historical studies. Dr Fisher mentioned there was quite an important project he thought I would excel in, but he was willing to see how I went before discussing it with me. I’m glad he left it like that.

I was introduced to technology which would help me: a holomask, which was a band placed around my head that generated a top-quality ultra definition ‘visual distortion’, making my face seem radically different. It would only hold charge for four or five hours, I was warned, plus a strong electromagnetic force might scramble the signal. Still, it promised me a disguise from people who might get a little crazy at the sight of meeting me, as I had already witnessed with the Juliet incident. I felt sad for them: I was nothing special, nothing at all.

Also, a bank account that had been set up for me many years ago was activated and I was given starting accommodation in a nice but not too extravagant apartment in the Northern Quarter, near a happy social club called Day and Night. I was shown a few pictures of the residence, and they looked impressive enough. I was given the latest holophone too – a very impressive device, chock full of features that were practically useful, not mere selling points. It could wirelessly track my heartrate and my anxiety levels, if I so wished. Once again, I appreciated that not being forced on me. I phoned Malik – a technician I had encountered before and had become reasonably friendly with during my internment – and watched a four-inch replica of him dance out of my screen and weightlessly climb up my arm. I asked him what the cost was and resolved to donate double to the hospital’s Scavenger fund.

Adaptive clothing – Chameleonware – was also given to me. It wasn’t anything like the t-shirts of yesteryear which changed colour against body heat: raggedy hand-me-downs from Da. No, it was a bioplastic suit infused with nanobots which could mould to your skin and change shape on instruction, within certain limits, and could also change texture and colour as well. It also ‘ate’ sweat, being part-powered by it, so no need to wash! It was very useful for travel and practically indestructible – and not affected by electromagnetic forces too, thankfully. I loved wearing it. However, I was definitely going to get more traditional clothes and the funkier cybersmartwear I saw amongst the local populace of around my age. Why not?

I had so much more to learn about the 2118 world, but my holophone had an interactive app that would explain everything to me, if I needed it to. It also was full of counselling and therapy programs. I’d keep an open mind on that score, but I just wanted a break from all of that for a bit.

It got to the night before my release. I had a bag packed, ready for the morning. Staring up at the ceiling, I lay stretched out on the bed. It had finally come to this – I almost expected there to be some last-minute reason to keep me caged, for ‘Optimal’ benefit for everyone. Dare I hope? Sleeping that night would surely prove to be impossible.

I got a holocall from Dr Fisher. A tiny desk appeared on top of my screen, and he was sat at it. I could pretend to squash you with my finger, ha! “Congratulations Adem, it’s been a long journey for you, and I don’t need to tell you that you’ve still some way to go. We are here for you if you need us, but we understand if you don't want that now, or in future. The media have been briefed, and they will tell people to be calm and respectful if they approach you. Given the city’s crime rate has totalled zero cases for the past twenty years, plus having the holomask in your possession, we trust you won’t experience too much of a problem.”

I replied, as cordially and succinctly as I could. “Thank you doctor, it’s been...an experience. I don’t know what else to say.”

“As I mentioned before, we may have something in the pipeline for you in future. We can discuss things down the line – or not at all – but the world’s your oyster really. And, once again, I must apologise. I had to act as a director of Operation Phoenix, and at times maybe in ways not always squaring with my private beliefs. The 'Myth of Adem' was a big reason behind my career choice – like many who have met you, or even yet to meet you. You’ll come to see your importance in this world. And Adem.”

His tone changed.

“You are not an abomination. We’re very proud of you. I know your father and family would be, too. I’m sorry we caused you to lose trust in us. And – about Belinda Blue. I know you said you didn’t want her to be in contact with you, but if you ever –”

“– Goodbye, Dr Fisher.”