9
Oouf, my head hurt.
I groggily lifted it off the sheets and waited while my blurry vision adjusted to the semidarkness of my bedroom. It was still early. Wait a minute, it’s Saturday. I didn’t need to go to work. Memories seeped into my brain, and I realized I had a pass from work the whole next week, perhaps longer. Flopping my head back onto my pillow, I called out weakly for Mr. Tweedles.
“Hey, kitty kitty.”
He didn’t appear. That’s odd. Ah, well. I conked back out.
What seemed like moments later, bright light was streaming in through the window. I flopped out of bed and made for the kitchen to get a glass of water.
Mr. Tweedles was still nowhere to be seen. In a sudden panicked thought I tried to remember if I’d let him out the night before. I usually didn’t, but I had been a little drunk. I looked out the front door and the windows, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was hiding, I thought guiltily, remembering shoving him off the couch.
Maybe I should go for a run.
That’d get the gears going. There was nothing like a good run to fire up the imagination, and my mind was already cycling with ways to get back at Bertram. If Mr. Tweedles was out, he’d be back by the time I returned, and if he was hiding, maybe he’d have forgiven me by then.
Walking into my bedroom, I pulled on some sports gear. Moments later, I was bounding down my front steps. I drank in the cool morning air, enjoying the crisp bite of the rain of the night before as it burned off in the early sunshine.
I admired the scenery, which was completely devoid of any ads, the streets sparkling and walls scrubbed clean, with no vagrants to spoil the view or inspire guilt. It was perfect. I jogged along Seventy-Fifth toward Central Park.
Gradually, I began to get the feeling something was wrong.
There was a complete lack of other people on the streets, or even in cars. It was early morning on the weekend, but even so. As I made it to the corner of the park, I decided I’d better check in with Kenny to make sure my pssi was working properly.
“Kenny, could you check the pssi system for me?”
No response. I slowed up my jog. Maybe he was hungover, too.
“Kenny!” I called out again, stopping and waiting for him to appear.
“Kenny!” I yelled, and then screamed, “Kenny!”
My voice echoed back from the empty space of the park.
There were no sounds at all except for seagulls squawking in the distance. I turned around and began to sprint back to my apartment, calling out people’s names.
“Pssi interface!” I screeched as I ran.
No response.
“Dr. Simmons!” I pleaded, but there was no answer.
Maybe the pssi is broken—I’ll try my mobile. I burst through my front door, grabbed my purse, and rummaged around in it for my earbud. I popped it in and began pinging people. Still nothing.
Alarm settled into my gut and I fled back outside in a panic, purse in hand.
Cars lined the street, but no one drove them—there were no people anywhere, and no Mr. Tweedles. How was it possible I could be walking right down the middle of Seventy-Fifth Street and not see anyone, anywhere?
My mind raced. Last night I’d told Kenny to set the system to erase anything I found annoying. I’d given him root executive control—and I certainly found Kenny annoying lately, as well as my doctor.
My God, what have I done?
I ran down the street, my eyes watering and my chest burning. My office, I thought. Someone will be there even on the weekend. They would see me, they could fix this. My legs tired, and I slowed to a walk. This is ridiculous. Don’t panic. Stay calm, I told myself.
Eventually, I rounded the last block before my building, and turning the corner, I tried to tell myself how I’d soon be laughing this off with everyone. Then my heart fell through my stomach. My office tower was gone, replaced by some other morphed amalgamation that looked similar but dissimilar at the same time.
I began to weep. Of course I’d found work annoying. In fact, I found almost everything and everyone annoying.
“Please, someone help me! I’m stuck in the pssi! Please someone help me!” I cried out into the empty streets, utterly alone in one of the world’s most densely populated cities.