This choice: No time like the present. • Go Back...Chapter #6No time like the present. by: Yote   You've been reading a lot of Old Earth literature on how to seduce women recently, and the only advice the texts seem to share is that women love nothing more than daring, dynamic, reckless actions. In a culture as cosseted and protected as Earth, hundreds of light years from the nearest hostile alien where every action was watched over by a benevolent AI, it is hard to be reckless. But swapping bodies with a girl you've known for a few weeks seems like a good start.
"No time like the present, right?" you say with weak enthusiasm.
Implanted in the skin behind your right ear is a small, metal nodule. You touch it, activating your connection to the Earth AI. "Týr, I have a bit of a... strange request."
There is the scrape of rollerskates coming to a sharp halt on the chequered black-and-white floor. The diner is period mid-20th century, made up like an old Old American diner with vivid red-seats, a jukebox and simple food served up by waitresses on rollerblades, one of which careens to a stop beside your table. She straightens a lock of bleached blonde hair beneath her cap and smiles down at you. "So what can I get you for?"
You hold up a finger to shush her, the other still touching the nodule, which remains silent. "One second, I'm busy." The connection to Týr is usually instantaneous. "That dumb AI thinks at the speed of light. What the hell is keeping him."
The waitress clears her throat, tapping her name badge. [Hi, my name is Týr.]
"Sorry, Týr," you mumble.
The avatar giggles. "Don't worry about it, Bruce, you wouldn't be the first. Most humans lack the visual acuity to discern my robot bodies from the real thing. At least you're not hitting on me like some of the other customers. So what was it you wanted?"
"We, uh... that is me and Annie were wondering if we might be able to swap bodies."
The Týr avatar arches an eyebrow but brandishes a pad of paper from within the front of its apron. "Sure. Is that with-or-without memories?"
"We want to keep our own memories."
"And do you want an ID swap too?"
"Yes," Annie says before you have a chance to. "We want that, don't we, Bruce?"
She reaches across the table and squeezes your hand. "Uh, sure. I guess."
"Excellent!" Týr says brightly. "That'll be $0.00 and I'll be right back with your order." The avatar zooms away, skirt tails billowing out behind.
You wait nervously, trying to pass the time by pointing out the historical accuracies in the retro design to Annie, who seems only politely interested. Týr returns, depositing a pot of steaming black coffee, milk, sugar, and a bowl piled high with fries onto the table, and two slim metal circlets onto your heads. Annie reached across the table to squeeze your hand.
"Transfer beginning in 5...4...3...2..."
"Thank you, Bruce."
"...1..."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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