2052 / Year 39

June

One year later.

"Which animal used to be extinct?" Hannah asked, pointing to the row of holographic creatures roaming Princess's lap.

"The Wooly Mammoth!" the girl declared, then touched the animal.

Chester, Princess's virtual guardian, bounced on four hooves. "Way to go! That mammoth looks like me, doesn't she?"

Princess agreed with exaggerated nods.

"Next question," Hannah said. "Which animal is still extinct?"

"That one!" Princess pointed to the dinosaur.

"What's his name?" Chester asked.

"Tyrannosaurus rex!"

Hannah gave her a high five.

It was a cozy evening in the Cardella's dormitory. Aimee was treating Storm to a night on the town, Jon was working from home on their biggest theater yet, and Hannah got to spend quality cuddle-time with her favorite almost-four-year-old.

"Which animal needs to be protected by conservationists?" she asked, rubbing Princess's itty-bitty shoulder.

"Umm... the whale!"

"What kind of whale?"

"Blue!"

"Very good!" said Chester, and the whale disappeared from the lineup.

"Next question!"

Hannah smiled. "Which animal is still used for human consumption?"

"The cow!"

Chester quipped, "That was a dairy good answer!"

Princess giggled. "Hey Hannah?"

"Yes, kiddo?"

"Cows live on farms, right?"

"That's right."

Princess squirmed beneath the sheets.

"You look a little sad," Chester said, his trunk dragging on the ground. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She shook her head. "Go away for a minute, Chester."

"Okay, Princess. I'll disappear so you can't see me, but I'll still be watching in case you need anything." The widget bowed, then vanished with an animated pop.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" Hannah asked.

"Are there monsters on farms?"

"No, baby. Cows aren't monsters."

"I mean are there real monsters."

"Why do you think there are monsters on farms?"

"Madox said that only monsters live outside the city. And that's where farms are."

"Did Madox say what the monsters look like?"

"He says they're like normal people, except their brains leak out their nose like bloody worms." She crinkled her cheeks. "He says they want to eat my brains too."

"I think Madox has a big imagination."

"They're not real?"

Hannah considered her response. "Have you asked Chester about the monsters?"

"Yeah, but he says it's a strange question and I need to talk to an adult."

Hannah chose her words carefully. "The people who live on farms are different from you and me. But I promise you baby, they're not monsters."

"Different how?"

"Well, they think about different things. You and I think about holo-stories and art and spaceships—"

"And homework?"

"And homework."

"What do they think about?"

"They think about things that happened a long time ago. They think about strange things like ghosts and dreams—"

"But ghosts aren't really real."

"You're right. But not everybody knows that. That's one of the things that makes them different."

"They don't want to eat my brain?"

Hannah rubbed her nose against Princess's. "No, kiddo. Your brain is safe."

2060 / Year 47

December

Seven years later.

The Christmas spirit was alive in the home with the purple door. A real tree stood in the center of the living room, its metal branches and fabric needles adorned with ornaments and white lights.

Amelía chattered with her mother and Sophia as they deftly navigated her old kitchen to prepare Christmas dinner. Cicely even brought her own bulky tools for the home-cooked meal. Every so often another family member would pop in via holo-chat to work between the ladies. On the living room couch, Princess vegged out behind her new occs.

Jon greeted Michael and his girlfriend at the front door. The woman nearly blinded him with her all-white getup from her platinum hair to her snow-covered boots. Even her irises were white, separated from the sclera with outlines of near-perfect circles.

"The kids are here," Jon said with the couple in tow.

Hannah hugged Michael. "Good to see you, Mike. Tryouts are going well?"

"Nope," he said.

"Oh..."

Jon pushed through the awkwardness and motioned to the woman. "And this is Candle—"

"Welcome!" Hannah said. "It's nice to finally meet Michael's wife."

The woman's face turned sour. "Michael's wife is Veronica, and she's with her boyfriend in Florida."

"Of course," Hannah said with a furrowed brow. "I'm so sorry."

Jon snickered and shook his head.

"I forgive the presumption," said Candle, then took a huff of a White breather.

"Alabaster?" Hannah asked attempting to mend her mistake.

"Pearl. It bestows even the blandest events with enlightenment."

Hannah almost nodded, then excused herself to the kitchen instead.

Cicely was squeezing a lemon over a platter of raw meat, releasing a hearty aroma Hannah only associated with the holidays. "Es todo lo que los nietos querían para la Navidad este año," ["It's all the grandkids wanted for Christmas this year,"] "así que él se aplacó!" ["so I relented!"]

"Thanks a lot, Mamá," said Sophia. "My kids are in their thirties and you've got them playing video games."

["Don't act like that. You'll use them more than they do!"]

"Princess got one too?" Hannah asked.

"It's in the car," the girl said from the couch. "I asked for a bio-printer to study the correlation between quantum physics and biology... but Mamá thinks I'm gonna poison her."

Aimee rolled her eyes. "You can print all the 'bio' you want in your PEC. I'm not going to catch my first cold in fifty years because my daughter's a genius."

The Christmas feast covered the dining room table with scoops of sherbet floating in punch, green beans doused in cinnamon, and sliced chicken with peppers and carrots. A variety of positive emotions hovered around the guests: ["Strong anticipation,"] ["Anxious delight,"] ["Contentment."]

Cicely stepped forward. "Grace should be spoken in the language of the house," she said, then bowed her head. Aimee and Sophia followed suit while the others exchanged looks of confusion. Then—one at a time—they closed their eyes too. "Dear God, we come to you on this perfect Christmas day with open hearts and open minds. As we gather with family and friends, we feel your presence binding us, enlivening us, and showing us how to love."

["What in the world is Grandma talking about?"] Princess asked.

Hannah peeked through the slit in her eyelids and caught the girl peeking back. ["Be respectful, kiddo."]

Princess rolled her eyes, then gave Hannah a giant grin. ["Yes ma'am."]

Cicely continued. "Be with our loved ones who are no longer with us. Comfort the childless families who will spend another holiday alone. And most of all, work in the lives of our brothers and sisters who wither in the wilderness instead of working to better our world. Keep us in your perfect balance; for every death, a life, for every demon, an angel. Let us not take our blessings for granted. Amen."

"Thank you, Cicely," Jon said, and dinner commenced.

"The salmon is delicious," Michael said to Cicely.

"No trague un hueso, Hombrecito. Esta es la cosa real!" ["Don't swallow a bone, little man. This is the real thing!"]

"Where do you get real fish?"

["I buy my seafood from a mortal butcher. I don't eat that printed rubber you call 'meat.'"]

Candle choked. Her face turned from white to green. "This is real animal?"

["Yes, dear. It swam in a real lake, then it was snagged, gutted, and grilled."]

The girl's cheeks ballooned like a puffer fish. "Ex... excuse me." She stood, banged her knee against the table, and bolted to the bathroom.

Cicely shook her head. "Kids."

Sophia nudged Aimee. "Has Isabella slipped you any insider info about LE?"

"Isabella Birke is a pretty face," Michael said. "Nothing more."

"And she lives in Switzerland," Aimee added. "We don't bump into each other too often."

Sophia pouted. "Well, are there any new developments we should know about?"

"I can't keep track anymore. T4.2 is probably the most interesting, but it's still in the early stages."

"What's new with .2?" Jon asked.

"The rumor mill's been talking about increased bone density, better oxygen flow throughout, and faster tissue regeneration."

"Is there a release date?"

"They're aiming for Year 50."

"So Princess," Hannah said, "did you have a birthday party with your friends from cycle four?"

She shook her head. "We celebrate everybody's birthday on March fifteen."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"It's not. But it's also not fair that I get my upgrades three months before they do." She flashed a cheesy, food-covered grin.

"Wha'd you get this year?" Sophia asked.

"IDPs and occs."

Mrs. Cardella shuddered.

"Grandma doesn't like my new eyes." Princess pressed her lids with her fingers and rolled her implants around.

The old lady grimaced. ["They pulled her real eyes right out of her head!"]

"They wouldn't let me keep 'em. I wanted to cut 'em apart and see inside."

"Sounds like you have some advantages over the other kids," Jon added.

"For the next three months I can see farther, read faster, and know about a quintillion more things than all of Cycle Four combined."

"Looks like the IDPs made you a know-it-all," Sophia said.

"She was a know-it-all long before the IDPs," Aimee added.

Hannah said, "It must get pretty boring staying in the same building all the time."

"It's sooo boring," Princess replied. "Same dorm, same mall, same classrooms... and we're only allowed to go outside for Christmas and field trips."

"Five years until graduation," Aimee said, "then you can go wherever you want."

Princess dropped her arms on the table and leaned forward. "Why don't you have IDPs, Hannah? I bet you could download every fact in the world to be the smartest person on Earth!"

"Honestly, I don't think I'll ever want one."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm an artist, and I would argue that too much knowledge can hinder art."

"How?"

"If I knew everything, what would be left for me to explore? How would I see the interesting aspects of life when my mind is filled with technical information? Would I be able to focus on the content of my piece? Or would I be distracted by a thousand boring realities related it? Plus, all that knowledge could destroy important things... like faith."

"But faith is dumb. If you know something isn't true, you shouldn't believe it."

"That's one opinion. And a lot of times, belief does hinder innovation. But sometimes, the eccentricities that come from faith are more interesting than certainty, don't you think?"

"But how can you reject scientific facts?"

"I don't. But when it comes to my artistic sensibilities, I prefer conjecture. Maybe God did create the universe. Maybe he was a giant squid. Maybe we're all just part of an alien's dream. Are these plausible scenarios? Not really. But they're all more interesting than a big bang."

"Hmm..."

"I know it sounds backwards, but I think it's the eccentricities that keep us grounded."

Princess nodded. "I changed my mind. You're already the smartest person on Earth!"

Hannah blushed. "I'll leave the brain power for the geniuses like you and Michael."

Michael scoffed.

Jon raised his eyebrows. "Something you wanna say, son?"

He hesitated, then dropped his fork on his plate. "I practice twenty hours a week, and a twelve-year-old can be better than I'll ever be."

"I don't have the sports bundle," Princess said.

"All you need to do is ask."

"Why don't you get IDPs too?"

"I'm not one of the elite. Nanobots are literally thousands of dollars for the rest of us, even though they're virtually free to make."

Hannah said, "If you think IDPs would improve your game, your dad and I—"

"You're sweet, Hannah, and I'm glad you're with my dad. But I'm not interested in your money."

"I didn't mean to offend."

"It's a matter of principal. The big corporations keep prices artificially high so the public can't do what they do."

"But that's never been the case," Jon said. "Technology might always starts in the hands of the rich, but it always ends up in the hands of the poor. We worried about the same thing when we were kids, but every revolution proved us wrong. When cell phones became popular, the poorest people in the country carried around the exact same models as the richest. That's important to remember."

As Michael continued his rant, Hannah noticed Aimee's attentive posture; eyes fixed on the passionate boy, mind grazing the pasture of some pleasant memory.

2062 / Year 49

April

Two years later.

It was April when Jon brought home the couple's first pair of Generation 7 PECs. His was blue. Hers was red.

As predicted, the release of the Home Edition spurred a decline in theater attendance forcing PEC Corp to temporarily lay off all external human architects. The bosses showed their appreciation by offering them the opportunity to work as worldbuilders on the inside.

"I need help from an artist," Jon told her the night he brought the cubes into their home. "They want me to familiarize myself with the system, but I get overwhelmed every time I'm inside. The possibilities seem endless and I freeze up—"

"It's called 'freedom-induced paralysis,'" Hannah said.

"Did you just make that up?"

"Yep."

"It describes the feeling perfectly."

Hannah hated the idea of losing Jon to the inside for eight hours a day, but she heard about his depression when he was only working two hours a week.

so much had changed since her martian forays. the digital menus were gone and she only had to think to create an object. also, the interaction with physical materials was much smoother. in past generations, a silk robe may have felt like silk, but hannah could always sense the programers intentions when discerning the subtle tangibility of the underlying mechanics. but now, every material blended seamlessly with other objects, the environment, and the tips of her fingers.

as hannah led jon through the white plains of the worldbuilder and the basics of art 101, a new object appeared in her peripherals—an object she didn't create with her conscious mind—blue, round; her brother's urn.

she continued her instruction, teaching jon philosophies and techniques no IDPs could hope to provide. she showed him the effects of color; how a certain tint could bring warmth to his elaborate, frigid designs.

but the vase was persistent. wherever she soared, it followed, always hovering at the farthest corner of her vision.

finally, she excused herself from her partner with a lie about needing to pee, then changed her settings to private mode and confronted the urn.

the object felt in hannah's hands like it was forged from iron, dipped moments ago in the cooling tank with a hiss and surge of steam. she fingered the lid and found it was loose. she almost removed it—almost glanced inside—but at the last second, she threw it into the white abyss.

between teaching, hannah experimented with her own little world where the walls, furniture and stairs were liquid.

"holy shit," jon said. "how'd you learn to do this?"

she shrugged. "intuition?"

they swam up the brick to the highest tower. at the top, they made love.

when the urn appeared in her water world, hannah opened it. she ran to the godforsaken vase and plucked open the lid and peered inside. demons; gavin nightly with his head thrown back and his eyes wide, naked, looking up through that hole and screaming so fucking loud that the sound bypassed hannah's ears and reverberated only in the core of her mind. her mother was there too, trembling in that paper blue gown, arms stretched and tied like a straight jacket, spasming like a lunatic in the shadows of the urn.

"I can't do it," Hannah said in the sanctuary of their living room.

Jon opened his eyes, rubbed away the headache, and said, "My God... I'm recommending you for the same job! Everybody already knows your work—even the bosses—but when they see what you can do... they'll hire you on the spot."

"I said I can't do it."

"Think of it as painting... or film! You can be creative again! We'd be working side by—"

"It's not art."

"Of course it's art. You're creating unique experiences for millions—"

"I see things." Tears formed but didn't fall.

Jon's excitement waned as he realized she was serious. "Oh, sweetheart..." He touched her knee. "I didn't—"

"It took me so long to get here, Jon... I can feel it crumbling..."

"I would never put you in that position. If it makes you uncomfortable, we'll never go back."

"I want you to take the job. I'll do everything I can to help you succeed, but I can't make this a regular part of my life."

He nodded. "I understand."