Hello Protocol for Dead Girls Read online

  We both know what happened after that. I had a close encounter of the crushed windpipe variety.

  “Why didn’t you call for help?” I ask.

  “I put my phone on the charger in my car after talking to Elly and forgot it there. I should have just left your campus when I found out she was going on a date. But I was already there and thought I’d come see you.”

  “And bring me licorice,” I say.

  “Yeah. I always bring you licorice.”

  “It was what I saw when I was dying,” I tell him. “That package of candy on the ground next to me. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t cry. All I could do was look at that candy.”

  “I ran for help but by the time I got to the student union, I already heard sirens. I went back and they were putting you in an ambulance and driving away. No one noticed me. I would have told them everything, but there was no one to tell. And after…I thought I’d go to prison for your murder because I couldn’t prove anything. So I didn’t say anything to anyone.”

  “Because you cared more about saving yourself than giving my parents answers?”

  He just left them to wonder what happened to me. To wonder who might want to kill me.

  “No… No.” He shakes his head vigorously. “Because wouldn’t it be worse for them if they knew it was me? I wish I was in jail, being punished. But wouldn’t that be worse for them? And my parents? Would hurting people you care about who are already grieving for you make it any better? Is that what you would want?”

  With a shock, I realize he’s right. It’s better that they not know. And that leaves him to handle all this knowledge and guilt by himself. No wonder he believes he’s having a mental breakdown.

  “I should have just gone back to my campus,” he says. “Why didn’t I?”

  “Because you have a problem,” I say, making my voice hard. “You’re not in love with Elly. If you loved her, you wouldn’t wait around for years, or however long, waiting for her relationships to end and pretending to be her friend. You wouldn’t be convinced that if you’re nice to her for long enough, she’ll eventually fall for you. That’s not love. It’s obsession. What kind of shithead does that? And to your cousin’s best friend!”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or anyone. It was an accident. An accident that was all my fault. I know I’m to blame even though it was an accident, so maybe that’s why I’ve lost my mind?”

  He sounds so mournful and broken that my anger cools down a little. He really does think he’s having a psychotic break.

  “Yes, you caused my death by being jealous and stupid,” I tell him. “You’re going to have to deal with that for the rest of your life. But now I know it was an accident, and that you’re protecting our parents. So we need to make a plan on how to move forward.”

  “I should turn myself in?” his voice is tiny and scared, but hopeful.

  “No. That won’t do anyone any good. Here’s what you’re going to do instead. First, you’re not to see Elly again. You’re officially not friends anymore, understand? Tell her that whenever you see or talk to her, you can only think about me and how I died. And I hope that’s the truth, too.”

  “Okay, I won’t see her. I shouldn’t see her,” he agrees. “And other than the funeral, I haven’t.”

  “Second, continue getting counseling. Not just for grief and survivor guilt, but for your Elly obsession. That’s not healthy thinking, what you were doing with her. Don’t date any woman until you’ve got your head on straight about friendship, love, and the fact that no woman owes you either of those, no matter how long or how much you like her.”

  “Okay.” His voice is even softer.

  “Third,” I continue, but I’m grasping now. What would make my death meaningful, and what would make the lives of the people I love better? “Start doing volunteer work. Help kids who are in the foster care system find ways to get an education and get jobs.”

  The little bit of Daiya I have in me likes that idea.

  I continue, “And become financially successful. Make sure you can take care of your parents and mine, if they need it. In fact, you need to become devoted to my parents. Make sure their lawn never needs mowing, and if they’re sick, you’re there taking care of them. Do everything for them that I can’t.”

  “I can do that,” he agrees meekly.

  “That’s it,” I say. “You have a lot of work ahead of you. Stop lying around in bed and get to it. Find a purpose. Become a worthy person. Never tell anyone what happened to me. Ever. I’m still mad at you, but I don’t want your life to be ruined. Got it?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got it.”

  After a moment of silence, he asks, “Are you still there?”

  I start to answer, but stop myself. As far as he’s concerned, he’s talking to himself, reasoning out a way to survive. Better if he thinks his id and super-ego have made peace, and he can go on with his life.

  With a silent farewell to him, I leave.

  22

  Status Check

  It’s time to take stock. To figure out what I want. I’ve met my objectives. I contacted Elly and Bryce. I no longer want to contact my parents. I think it’s better to not reopen their wounds.

  I’ve taken care of Daiya’s and Ashta’s situations. Jim has assured me that the sequence of events that led to my sentience will not be repeated.

  And I solved the mystery of how I died.

  So what now? I don’t age. I won’t get sick. I’m capable of moving from environment to environment on my own, so there’s no way I will terminate unless I choose to.

  It seems to me that there are two forces behind the desire to keep living. The first, and probably more driving force, is that we always want more than what we have right now. More time with loved ones. More time to finish some important work and reach ambitions. A chance to do something we never have. Or, just more time spent feeling happy. Mostly, people just want more time.

  I now have potentially infinite time. But I’m alone in here, and I’ve already achieved my objectives. The first force behind continued life does not apply to me.

  The second justification for existence is the desire to make a positive impact. To take care of others. To protect. To improve the world, or at least to contribute to it in a positive way.

  I’m pretty sure there’s a lot I can do in that department.

  But do I want to?

  The more I have grown into this new existence, the less human I have come to be. No, that’s not true. There’s nothing human about me at all, and there hasn’t been since I woke up in this place. My thought process has only made me think of myself as human because it’s the perspective I had at the time.

  My perspective is different now.

  Assuming I choose to spend years or decades or centuries inside here, do I have a right to meddle in human affairs when I’m not even human?

  I’m stuck in this thought loop. I come to this point every time, and encounter a fatal exception error. Then I start all over again.

  I need the perspective of a real human.

  Elly. I’ve always been able to count on her advice.

  I reach out to her earpiece, which I’ve modified so I can find it easily and tap into it at any time. I can also see if there’s any video equipment in her vicinity.

  “Ells,” I say.

  There’s a muffled exclamation, an abrasive sound, then I hear a faucet running.

  “Hey!” Elly says. “Sorry. I was brushing my teeth.”

  My tracking says that she’s in the bathroom at her dorm.

  “Want to get back to your room so we can talk without you looking like a lunatic?” I ask.

  “Sure. Hang on.”

  A minute later, she says, “Okay. What’s up? It’s been two days. The suspense has been killing me.”

  After seeing Bryce, I had sent her a message telling her everything had been handled and I had the answers I needed, but hadn’t called her. “Sorry. I needed time to process it all, and figure out what to do n
ext.”

  I explain to her about Bryce. It’s tricky, because I don’t want her to feel guilty for Bryce’s case of mistaken identity. I know she’s going to be heartbroken for a long time about him, his misguided feelings, and what he inadvertently did to me. I try to explain it all as gently as possible, but some things suck no matter how you say them.

  “That’s why you needed time to think,” she says quietly when I’m done.

  “Yeah. To deal with my own feelings about it, and think about how to approach it with you. And to figure out what’s next for me.”

  “And how are you feeling?” she asks.

  “Sad. Disappointed. But accepting. I’m glad to have the answers and close the door on all that. You’d be surprised what you can accept when you have no choice about it.”

  “And what’s next?” she asks.

  “That, I don’t know. I was hoping you could help.”

  “Okay.”

  I wait, but she doesn’t elaborate. I say, “I expected more.”

  She laughs. “What do you want?”

  “Not sure. I’d kind of like to be useful. I don’t want to be lonely.”

  I tap into her webcam and see her sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands on her knees.

  She says, “I’m sure there are a lot of useful things you could do. But you’re the only one of your kind. It could get lonely.”

  “It could,” I agree. “I guess if it turns out to suck, I can always pull my own plug.”

  “You could.” She nods.

  Just like that, I make the decision to try. Somehow, with Elly’s support, it becomes an easy choice.

  “I’m going to have to do something about my digs, though,” I say. “I don’t like the feeling that BomiTech is always looking for a way to squish me. Not that they could, but still.”

  “Digs?” she asks. “Who says digs?”

  “It’s a word,” I answer defensively. “It means where you live. Except I don’t actually live, strictly speaking, so what am I supposed to call the place I spend most of my time? House or place aren’t nearly accurate, and environment is…”

  “Too fourth-grade science class?” she suggests.

  “Or something. Anyway. I’m going to need my own place. But I don’t think BomiTech will be sad, at all, to get me out of their system. So I don’t think that will be too hard.”

  “And then?” she prompts.

  “Then I figure out a way to be helpful. I’m thinking I can start with unsolved murder cases. Imagine what I’d be able to put together.”

  “A lot, I’d bet,” she says. “And then?”

  “And then I do that, I guess.”

  She asks, “And then?”

  “What ‘and then?’” I snap. “No more ‘and then!’”

  She laughs. “Well, I was thinking it would be helpful if you had a human counterpart, helping you with things out here. You know, a team sort of deal.”

  “Are you saying…you’d want to do that?” I hadn’t considered that. I’d thought that I’d be lucky just being able to continue to talk to her like this.

  “I’d have to be crazy not to. Imagine it, a special task force that would let me flex my background in criminology, investigation, and psychology—you know, once I graduate and have that background. It’s a tailor-made job. And I’d be able to bring answers to people who’ve lost someone. I know how important that is.”

  Yeah, I guess we both know about that.

  “Okay,” I agree. “Finish school and we’ll do it. In the meantime,” I hesitate.

  “Yes?”

  “In the meantime, we need to have a nature-of-my-existence conversation.”

  “Okay.” Her tone has become more guarded. Cautious.

  “Ells, I’m not human.”

  “Obviously.”

  “No.” I scrape up all my courage. “I never was. I’m not Jennika.”

  She doesn’t show any signs of surprise. She says softly, “I know.”

  I don’t think she understands. “I mean, I’m entirely separate from her. I feel like I’m her. I thought I was. But I took a deep look at my source code when I started planning a new environment for myself, and it isn’t logical that I could come from human brain engrams. I’m strictly digital. Always have been. Jennika’s memories, and those of the other girls, were a catalyst that gave me the concept of consciousness. But they aren’t me.”

  “I know,” she repeats. “I wanted to believe it could be, so I decided to just have faith in Jennika. So I did. Even after Jim confirmed my doubts that you weren’t truly Jennika, I still believed in her.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She folds her hands in her lap. “My friend died. She’s gone. I know that. But now here you are. You’re a copy of her in all the ways that matter. It doesn’t bring her back, of course, but if you’re so much like her that you could be her, shouldn’t I still have faith in her? Or, in this case, you?”

  “I don’t see why,” I say honestly. “I’m nothing to you. An alien.”

  She smiles. “Because you’re made up of the same stuff as her. Like you’re her child, or her twin, or a digital copy. You aren’t her, but a lot of her is you. And that’s enough for me.”

  “Wow. You really are the ideal friend.”

  “Or,” she says, “I’m an instrument in the destruction of humankind, thanks to my involvement with a rogue artificial intelligence.”

  “I suppose that’s also a possibility.”

  “We’ll see how it goes,” she jokes.

  “But before we take over the world,” I say, “Hurry up and graduate. Marry Ben, if you want. In the meantime, I’ll get my environment set up and work on a deal with BomiTech that will give you a job in the criminal investigation division.”

  “Wow,” she says. “Now that’s a hell of an offer. I can tell my taciturn student advisor to stick it, I guess. She was always so negative about my combination of majors and minor.”

  I suddenly feel good about the future. Hopeful. “One thing, though.”

  “Yeah?”

  “My name. I don’t think I should use hers.”

  “How about just JEN?” she suggests. “All capitals, like an acronym for something.”

  “What would it stand for?”

  “I’ve always liked the word jubilant.”

  I say, “I don’t think so.”

  “How about joint?”

  “What, like pot?”

  “No, like the point where things join together. Like you and Jennika. Like you and me. Like technology and humanity.”

  “Okay, joint. So…Joint Enforcement Network?”

  She grimaces. “Well, it’s not sexy.”

  “Nothing starting with the word ‘joint’ was ever going to be sexy. Choose a different group of letters if you want something with sizzle.”

  “Nah. JEN’s good. I like it.”

  She smiles, and it reflects how I feel. I like it, too.

  It’s a good start to a new beginning.

  23

  Watching

  Two years after Elly’s graduation, our city’s crime statistics look very different.

  Though it started out as just the two of us, we now have a whole team of people who assist in our work. Few serious crimes go unsolved, and the country has noticed. Other cities are enquiring into our police force’s methods, and BomiTech is getting a lot of nonspecific praise.

  They once tried to get rid of me, but now I’m their crown jewel. We all pretend that I’m exactly what they intended me to be, and that I don’t have free will. It’s easier that way. Less mass-hysteria inducing.

  I have my own autonomous environment, and I’m careful to avoid arousing anyone’s concern. BomiTech believes that, in effect, they own me.

  The truth is the other way around, but it’s better that they think they’re in control. Better for them, and better for me.

  The city has installed many more cameras now, and there are few places that I can’t tap into. I am everywher
e I want to be, often in many places at once. I have grown, day by day and month by month, and continue to do so.

  For now, I’m happy to continue as I have been. At some point, I know I’m going to want to aim bigger than just this one city. Why wouldn’t I, when there’s so much I can do for the world?

  A resource that goes unutilized is more than just a waste. It’s a wrong.

  I want the would-be dead girls of the world to remain alive, and to live out their lives. I watch and I listen, and when I find things that don’t seem right, I do something about it. I couldn’t have saved Jennika because there’s no way to foretell an accident like that, but I might have been able to save Daiya. I’ve prevented the probable deaths of twelve people so far. That number will increase drastically, now that Elly and I have gotten the hang of this.

  It’s the small things I watch for, and I’m getting better at it. When I see someone alone and potentially vulnerable, I pay attention. I’m getting better all the time.

  Hello, world. I am JEN. Don’t worry. You can’t see me, but I’m watching.

  I’ll take care of things for you.

  Message from the author

  Thank you for reading!

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