This is the last thing he should worry about. His goals should be his focus. But so far in this world, he’s only encountered businesses that would be categorized as consumables or aesthetic services. But surely there is a financial services industry. He makes a mental note to ask Kate aboutthis later.
When the dance party seems like it’s never going to end, James interjects, “Excuse me. We’re here to see my friend’s dog.” James raises a brow as the man shifts his attention to him.
They both stop dancing abruptly. “Yes, okay.” He somberly returns to his tablet. “ID Number?”
Kate gives him her information and signs a digital ticket. “Would it be possible to get stall twenty-seven? It’s my favorite.”
Naturally, after the dance party, the man is all too happy to relocate its current occupants so Kate can have the spot. When he comes back, he proudly leads the way to the stall. All the while, the biblical scene on his dress replays over and over.
When the man finally leaves them, James glances around the small cube. His eyes land on what might be a dog-shaped hobby horse. Except it lacks detail. He glances at Kate, waiting for her to tell him this is some type of joke, but she’s handing him a crystal VR headset. He takes it, then she puts hers on and drops to her knees next to the furry stick thing.
“Who’s my good boy?!” she croons. “Yes, my Broccoli is so happy to see his momma. Does Broccoli want a cookie?”
James watches with something that feels a lot like horror as Kate lifts an invisible cookie to the stick thing, petting the faux fur with her other hand.
“Yes, that was so good, wasn’t it? Such a good boy.”
Kate strokes it, happily bobbing with each bit of praise she delivers. Her joy is so pure as she plays with the fake animal. The picture before him makes her seem untainted by the callous reality he’s experienced. It’s a mind-bending juxtaposition with the way she oozes sex appeal. His brain hurts. He needs a drink, or a bed, or both.
“James,” she says. “Don’t you want to meet Broccoli?”
No, James doesn’t. He wants to run out into the atmosphere and end this nightmare. But he remembers how his lungs felt, and the fear of dying hits him a second time.
He’s landed in purgatory. He knows that it’s not quite hell because his clothes don’t itch and the song playing lightly overhead has a folksy feel to it. It’s well-known that hell plays 2000s country music and provides wool onesies.
Yet, a world without dogs? Because that’s what this means. No dogs. Probably few or no other animals, too. He can’t wrap his mind around the far-reaching implications, like the food system or forest ecosystems. Are the oceans dead too? He’s going to be sick if he doesn’t get some air. But that isn’t even an option. Are the walls getting nearer? He wipes a sleeve across his brow, collecting the moisture beaded there. Since he woke up, he’s been slowly adjusting. But to think so many things he loves about the world are gone . . . Warm rays of sunshine on his skin. Barney’s soft copper fur. His happy brown eyes. The scent of a pine forest or a crisp winter day. A dip in a brisk ocean. All of it, gone.
For the first time, the true nature of his reality hits with a force that nearly sends him to his knees. He’s trapped in the future and he doesn’t have a lifeline.
“James?” Kate’s concern softens her voice.
James eyes the hallway that leads to the exit. “I’m sorry, Kate. I can’t do this. It’s too much. I’ll wait for you in the hall.”
Then he turns to flee.
By the time they make it back to her unit, the packages have already been delivered. The smartwaiter is full and each time they empty it, it refills.
James is exhausted. Ready to retreat into the four concrete walls of his barren room in an apartment he doesn’t even own, a feeling that seemed impossible only yesterday. Yet as he grabs a few boxes and heads to his room, his shoulders loosen. They’d loosen even more if he could get out of this ridiculous fitted ensemble. If he has to spend another minute wearing it, he’ll lose it. His temper is already precariously close to snapping and his cheerful companion isn’t helping.
“What happened back there? Visiting the dog park always makes me feel better when I’m upset. Do you not like dogs?” When he doesn’t respond, she adds, “Maybe we’ll try something else tomorrow.”
All day, her cheerfulness has seemed to compound, as if to combat his foul mood. He’s not sure how much more he can take.
“James, what do you like to do?”
He stops, slowly turning to her. How can he possibly explain what he’s experiencing to this woman? “Everything about today has been incredibly unsettling. From meeting several manupartners, to walking between buildings with a respirator. And this awful outfit.”
“And dogs?” she presses.
James eyes her as she frowns. Not wanting to be cruel, he’s reluctant to mention why the dog park nearly sent him over the edge. The modern human experience is so vacant that people have to resort to a simulation of a pet. Despite his reputation as a ruthless and single-minded entrepreneur, even he had a pet dog.
He grimaces, and Kate studies him intently. He can’t handle being coddled, so he waves her off. “It’s fine. I had a dog in the past.”Go ahead, make your assumptions. Let’s leave it at that.“I just need to get into something more comfortable and get some food. Then sleep and pray this all was a nightmare.”
Kate’s lips form the shape of an O that she covers with a hand. “Wow, James, I didn’t know. Seeing Broccoli must have upset you. I imagine if I’d woken up in your world, I’d be feeling the same. But think of the bright side—”
“What do you think the bright side is for me, Kate?”
She only stares at him, mouth snapping shut.
