Page 109 of CHOICE Lover
Before he realizes what’s happening, his back hits the wall, and he’s sliding down it. No tears fall, but a pulsing numbness radiates from his chest, eclipsing everything else.
He lies down on the floor, curling into a ball. If he lies here for just a little while, the feelings will pass. It’s funny, isn’t it? He almost said he loves her. But that’s ridiculous. The only person he’s ever loved is Jerme, and Jerme, like Electra, is gone.
December 25, 2390.
Someone is shaking his shoulder. The room is too dark to make out the figure, but their touch is firm enough to tell him it isn’t her. Still, he stupidly says, “Electra?”
“No, it’s me, Jerme,” the body double says.
“You’re not Jerme,” he mutters. He must have fallen asleep. Res6 slumps back onto the floor, the cool concrete beneath him a stark reminder of how alone he is. A feeling he should be grateful for, considering he momentarily forgot the precise reason he invented manupartners.
“Here, let me help you up.” It fumbles around before latching onto his arm and tugging.
He allows the unit to ease him to his feet. He thinks the command: Time Check. 03:56. Then he thinks the command to start the slow morning light sequence. A dim glow from the ceiling illuminates the room.
“The woman left,” it says.
He groans. “It’s better this way.”
“Where did she go?” it asks.
He stares at it for a long time before coming to a determination. “I need to recycle you and start going to my FRIENDS appointments on my own.” He needs to recycle it before it starts individuating like Chryl did.
The manupartner gives him a pitying look. “I just want you to be happy.”
He quickly readies himself for the day then grabs a pick-me-UP nourishment packet, and a VitaShot for good measure. When he’s ready to walk out the door, he forces himself to glance over at the manupartner who’s docilely sitting on the couch with a blank stare.
A handful of overnight employees stare as he and his identical replica pass, but he pays them no heed. He’s too tired and wrecked from the last few days to care. He takes ten minutes to lead the unitto the recycling station in his main lab. There is a single lab tech on duty who’s in the process of decommissioning a few test units.
“Hello, sir!” the man, whose sleep schedule must be better than his, greets brightly.
“I need to decommission this unit.” He gestures to the manupartner beside him, who he’s been talking to as if he’s his twin brother. He should never have started calling him Jerme. That was a mistake, regardless of which of their DNA it was made from.
The tech’s hazel eyes widen behind his protective lenses. “Of course, sir. I will take care of that for you.”
Res6 shakes his head. He needs to do this himself this time. And what’s a little more suffering? He can’t even feel the thumping organ in his chest anymore. “I’ll do it. Please prepare an extra dose of the deactivation serum.”
He slips on gloves and the rest of a PPE kit.
When he finishes, the tech has two syringes set out on a tray resting on the stainless steel counter. He guides the unit over to a metal table. “Please lie flat on your back.” The manupartner does as the tech says.
Res6 steps up to the side of the table and the tech holds out the tray for him. He takes the first syringe to put the unit to sleep. It’s been a while since he’s done an injection. Fortunately, the drug doesn’t need to be given intravenously.You deserve this, so do it, he mentally chides. He doesn’t hesitate as he leans over the manupartner and sticks the needle into the meaty flesh of his left forearm.
As he’s about to depress the plunger, Jerme speaks—not Jerme,the manupartner. “I could help you if you wanted.”
His heartbeat ratchets up, and he has to clench his teeth to keep the tears at bay. Instantly, his jaw aches. He cannot allow himself a single tear in front of the employee standing so close.It’s just a body double. Not Jerme. Besides,the only person who can help me doesn’twant anything to do with me.He presses down. A second later, the manupartner’s eyes close.
He takes the second needle—the one that stops the heart—and repeats the act, this time without pausing. The manupartner’s chest rises one last time before it stills.
He sets the used syringe on the tray, noting his trembling hand.
“I’ll have it recycled with this morning’s first batch,” the tech says.
Res6 nods, removes his PPE, and flees to his office. Once safely behind the closed door, he lets the tears fall. That manupartner was the closest thing to a friend he’s had in almost a hundred years—because of Electra, he can see how sad that is now.You had her until you fucked that up.
If absence were a trauma, it would feel like this—a temporal scar left by the wound that sliced his life in two. When he lost his brother, it split into before Jerme and after Jerme. Now there’s before Electra. Is she gone for good? Is this truly the after? He can hardly wrap his mind around it.
There is one gaping truth he can fully grasp, however. He’s never been more alone.
