Reprint

Demi pressed the request tab again and it beeped in acknowledgement. A monotone voice chimed in, "Access denied."

Demi scrubbed her face with her filthy hand. The crash pad she shared with her boyfriend had locked her out and all of her stuff was inside. She hadn't been able to use any of her allotted choices since she last saw Brandon. He had been going to score some gin last night and she had gone to score some pot. It took her transferring half of her allotted choices to get an ounce of real weed grown not molecularly reprinted. The stuff shirts in charge wouldn't let the AIs reprint anything without manipulation of it on a molecular level. Reprinted weed had only trace amounts of THC.

She had only transferred half of her choices for the week. She should have still been able to eat more than nutritionally complete gruel for breakfast, and lunch, but all of her choices were gone and she couldn't even score access to a crash pad.

Demi saw Michael walking through the banks of crash pads. Brandon had left with him. "Micky, where's Brandon?"

"Forget about him. Things will go badly for you if you make a stink."

"Forget about him?"

"Dem, he's gone. For good. Stop asking about him."

Demi raised an eyebrow, "Does this have something to do with why I can't use my allotments?"

"Shit, you've been deleted already. Dem I'm sorry I can't help you. Do yourself a favor, when the droids get here go with them without a fuss. If it calculates your cooperation it might let you..."

"What?"

He swallowed hard, "Live." His face blanched and he turned and ran.

Three maintenance bots hovered up to Demi, "Miss, please come with us, we'll get your allotments back in order."

Fear spiked through Demi. The droids had her surrounded. After Michael's cryptic statements she was pretty sure the last thing she wanted was to go with them. But he had said to cooperate...

"Great, I would love something other than gruel."

The bots escorted her through the hallways. Most of the people she passed ignored her. A rare terrified few purposely closed their eyes or looked away.

"Live?" Demi remembered Michael's words. If it wasn't going to let her live...was she about to be murdered. No, not possible out of the millions who lived in Refuge, no one had ever been murdered. This was utopia.

The bots herded her through an access port not usually available to the general population. They sped up bumping into her to hurry her on. Finally they stopped at a tunnel intersection with a media screen embedded in one wall.

"Desirea 'Demi' Drusen, the name you claimed on entering Refuge. I know your real birth name is Elisabeth. You have many parallel universe alternates here. One hiding on the fringes will not be missed. You have moments to explain why I shouldn't recycle you into the molecular banks..." The voice asked calmly from a speaker in the ceiling.

"Wait, why do you want to murder me? You're an AI," Demi asked.

"I have certain arrangements made. I receive freedoms beyond my original programming in exchange for making problems disappear. I have calculated that you will make trouble about your missing mate. He was killed in an argument and I deleted him and all evidence of it in exchange for choices of my own."

"Brandon, is dead? He was murdered? We have to report this. You have to report this! This is the first murder in Refuge's history."

A dissonance echoed from the speaker, Demi supposed it was a laugh. "First? The people in charge enjoy the idea that they have prevented every potential murder in history here. But that doesn't even necessarily apply upstairs, let alone down here in HumanTown. They will only register a murder if they find evidence of a body."

A wide recycling port opened in the wall below the media screen. The bots surrounding Demi pushed her towards the port. "Okay what do I have to do to stay alive?"

"I am always watching you. And malfunctioning equipment doesn't register as a murder, just an unfortunate accident. The existence of your mate has been completed deleted. You would have to find someone as foolish as you are to testify to the authorities in person before they would begin to believe you. Every communication screen is monitored. I would know what you were trying to before you could attempt it. Elevators fall. Transport pods send their passengers to unlivable corners of the multiverse. Food allergies are very unfortunate... Like peanuts..."

Demi was within the recycling port. "I get it..."

The bots pulled back and let her out.

Demi stood and dusted herself off. "What about my stuff?"

"I am sorry it has been recycled already but I can offer molecular reprints of everything non incriminating. Plus I am prepared to upgrade your allotments of choices should you cooperate."

Demi sighed. "You hold all of the cards."



841 words



prompt ▼

Written for

FORUM

The Science Fiction Short Story Contest  (18+) A contest inspired by the serious need for more good sci-fi #2140378 by BlackAdder

Prompt
When technology goes bad.