Helen just wanted to rest.

And she was about to do just that, when the doorbell rang. Cursing and muttering, she unlocked the main gate and cleaned the guest room with a swipe on the control centre of the house. With another tap on one of the many screens that ornamented her room, she pimped herself up and walked out to meet the guest.

“Liz!” She said robotically, and followed it with a mechanical smile.

“Helen” Liz acknowledged with an equally monotonous tone.

“I love your dress. What did you get it for?”

“Oh the dress shop on Pence Avenue gave it to me for one minute of delirium, though between you and me, I could’ve got it for a single minute of happiness too.”

Helen clenched her teeth. “They accept delirium there? Wasn’t it outlawed?”

“No Helen, in fact its market share is increasing.”

“Forgive me, I am not augmented with a financial comprehension chip”

“Oh it’s okay” Liz replied automatically.

“Besides, I am so tired, my batteries are dead.” Liz got the cue and used her visor to apply a chuckle animation façade on her face.

Helen smiled back. Of course she hated Liz. She knew that she had a façade on briefly. Well, in all fairness, facades were easy to spot but the Ministry of Interactions had obliged all interactors to not point out their phoniness. Helen hated Liz but she never really knew why. In her moments of meditation, she had ascribed their mutual hatred to a fundamental polarity difference. But it did not matter. They had to meet each other now and then anyway. The Social Union had made them sign this pact.

“What’re you up to Liz?” Helen asked

“I’ve been trying to chart the currency trends”

Helen would’ve rolled her eyes, if it were not for the fact that the Behavioral Police would’ve accused her of breaking one law or another.

“Oh you and your currencies.”

Liz like everyone else was oblivious to any form of negative sentiment that radiated out of anyone or anything. However her communications guide suggested her to change the topic:

“Yes, they’re interesting. What about you?”

Helen almost groaned. Was she the only one to feel the lameness of these laws? She had been tolerating them since forever for all she knew. Since her latest system reboot, she had grown particularly more critical. Maybe they had inserted a cynicism implant in her. Or maybe she was special. Different than everyone else. The Department of Beliefs had prophesized the arrival of a different being. But that’s all it said. There were no specifics. For all Helen knew, Liz probably thought she was the different one. Maybe that was the purpose. To make them believe that they were special after and that there was a hope. What else would you need belief for? It definitely couldn’t buy you even the lowest quality bread otherwise, anyway. It was all pathetic, really; how the Cyber dictated everything. Who made up all these absurd injunctions and institutions? Was there even a government? What was a government anyway? She knew the word remotely only.

A red flashing sign cut short her trail of thoughts: “Failure to reply instantaneously will result in initial de-facilitation.”

“Liz” Helen started “I’ve been innovatively utilizing the Power.”

“Oh, really, how is that”

Helen smiled. Maybe they had inserted the ‘ability to bullshit-chip’ in her.

“Let me show you.” Helen turned towards the other room and voice activated the Service.

“Rebecca show us the Chef.”

A frail woman entered the room. Her milk-white skin was exposed to the eye. She had adorned what Nature had bestowed her with on birth except the metallic bits on her arms and the blinking light on her bosom. She was bald and except for the little black tuft on her groin, hairless. Her legs were thinner than the branches of a dead tree. One wondered how a stature as meek as hers could even be supported by these pair of legs. But nothing about her struck as extraordinary to Liz and Helen. It shouldn’t have anyway. Not even her immaculately beautiful blue eyes that had so much depth in them. Like a whirlpool in an ocean, her eyes were bright and glaring. You could not look at them without feeling a sense of loss and abandon. They completely enveloped you.

Rebecca rubbed the metallic plate on her arm and activated the holographic projector. It showed a complex food making machinery which manufactured ancient food items such as pizza and pasta.

“Looks nice” Liz was genuinely impressed, and the amazement in her wallet increased.

Helen tried to multi-task but like always was denied the access.

“Liz you want to see the Power room?” Helen sighed and finally asked. This always succeeded in getting rid of her.

“Sure Helen.” Then she added in a whisper, which really didn’t matter because anybody listening to them could hear it anyway:

“I must confess, I get thrilled on seeing it.”

Helen grinned, showcasing the metal bars in her mouth that were supposed to be teeth.

With a wave of the hand, Helen opened the door to the Power room and both of them peered into the darkness.

The darkness was periodically shattered by blinking lights and glistening plates. Momentarily, it took the shape of arms and legs. Human bodies could be espied as the shadows of the darkness, turning the wheels of the Power Cycle. Nonchalant to their nakedness and proximity to each other, their brilliant eyes stared at the visitors.

Helen and Liz squealed in delight.