The Atopia Chronicles (Atopia series)

3

 

“Nothing more than a simple panic attack.” The doctor’s bald pate reflected the overhead panel lighting like a shimmering, sweaty halo above his radiantly clean lab coat. A stethoscope hung uselessly around his neck. He leaned forward over his desk and clasped his hands, bringing them up to support his chin in what I assumed was his thoughtful pose. “Are you still smoking?”

 

A stupid question. Of course he knew.

 

“Yes, but I stay fit.”

 

He nodded and looked at his notes, sensing this was a fight he didn’t want to get into. “This could be fixable via medication—”

 

“I’m trying to keep on an organic farmaceutical diet,” I interrupted. “I need to limit the medications.”

 

Something about him reminded me of the endless string of men my mother had dated after my father left. My parents’ relationship had been doomed from the start—trying to mix a Greek and a Scot was a surefire recipe for disaster.

 

The doctor stared at me, considering what to say next. “Stress and anxiety are the big killers these days. You really need to take care of this.”

 

They’d had me as an excuse to try to justify their angry entanglement, a glue that hadn’t worked despite their best attempts to argue and fight their way through it. In the process, neither of them had paid much attention to me. I’d taken my mother’s name, Onassis, as an adult. It was the only thing I wanted from her anymore.

 

“Olympia, are you all right?” The doctor had noticed my attention wandering.

 

“Yes, yes.” I just wanted to get out of there. “But there must be something else. What about more nanobots?”

 

“Those still use medications,” he explained. “Mostly they’re just delivery systems.”

 

“So I have to figure this out myself.” I rolled my eyes. “Meditation, relaxation.…” What a load of bullshit, I didn’t need to add.

 

“That would probably work best in the long term, but I’m not so sure in your case.”

 

“So what are you suggesting?” Why couldn’t he get to the point already?

 

He took a deep breath. “I think we have something perfect for you, but I’ve been weighing the options.”

 

“And?” I waited for his revelation. He struck another irritatingly thoughtful pose.

 

“Stress and anxiety are deeply rooted problems in society,” he replied calmly. “While they respond to drugs, these don’t correct the underlying issues. Medical science has found ways to fix most major diseases, but the mind is a tricky thing.…”

 

He adjusted himself in his seat. “There’s a new synthetic reality system that we’ve been testing with select clients,” he began, raising his hands to fend off my objections. “Before you say anything, there are no implants, nothing surgical anyway. You’ve already used the delivery nanobots, and this is just one step further.”

 

I wagged my head. “Okay.…”

 

“All you do is swallow a pill with a glass of water. Nanoscale devices in the pill called ‘smarticles’ diffuse through your body and attach themselves to your neural system. They’re able to modify signals flowing through your neurons—”

 

My attention began to wander again and the doctor could see it. I hated technical mumbo-jumbo.

 

He stopped and looked at me before continuing, “If you ever decide you don’t like or want it anymore, a simple verbal command deactivates the whole thing and it washes back out of your system and is excreted. It’s as simple as that.”

 

He smiled, but now I smiled back. I’d realized what it was that he was describing.

 

“And it’s been tested?” I asked.

 

This must be the new Atopian Cognix system we were pitching at the office. It wasn’t on the market yet, but I knew they were doing restricted trials. I brightened up. It looked like someone on top had given me the nod. Maybe I would win the account after all.

 

“The system has been in clinical trials for years already and is fairly well understood. I can’t give you the brand name, but that shouldn’t make any difference. Does it?”

 

I was sure he knew I knew what he was talking about, but he had to go through the motions anyway. I played along, knowing that all this would be reviewed by someone at Cognix as soon as I gave my consent.

 

“No, not really, but if you say it’ll help,” I replied, trying to conceal my glee. I wondered if he would be feeding me any of my own marketing spiel.

 

“One of the major causes of stress and anxiety is advertising.” He paused, knowing I was an advertising executive. “My recommendation is that you should use this system to remove advertising from your environment for a time; see how you feel.”

 

“Sure, that sounds like a good idea.”

 

He seemed unsure whether I was being sarcastic or not, but he could sense my mood lightening. “Should I write you a prescription?”

 

I nodded. “So I’ll have complete control over it?”

 

“Of course.”

 

A pause while we looked at each other.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

“What, now?”

 

“If you’re ready.…”

 

Another pause, and then I nodded again. The mobile, still in my ear, chimed softly as it received the electronic prescription from the doctor’s automated assistant.

 

The doctor filled a small paper cup from a bottle of water in the cabinet behind his desk and handed it to me along with a small white tablet.

 

“Just swallow this. It includes a sedative to help keep you immobile during the initial data-gathering session.”

 

I took the pill and cup from him. He looked me in the eye.

 

“Olympia, do you give your consent to give your personal data to the program?”

 

I nodded once more.

 

“This includes background personal data, you understand?”

 

“Yes,” I replied.

 

“We won’t be able to activate it today. You’ll have to come back later in the week, but we can install it now.”

 

I studied the pill briefly, popped it into my mouth and washed it down, then handed the empty cup back to him.

 

“Follow me.” He stood up and led me out of his office and into a smaller room containing a human-shaped pod. It looked like one of those old tanning beds. “You’ll need to completely undress.”

 

I lazily complied. The sedative was already taking hold and my brain had started swimming peacefully. I lay down in the pod, and the gooey gel inside it conformed around my body.

 

“Now just relax.” He lowered the top of the enclosure.

 

It suctioned onto me, completely enveloping my body. In a dream-like state I felt tiny fingers probing and tickling me, lights and patterns flashing in my eyes, and sounds like some kind of hearing test. My muscles twitched as small electric shocks raced back and forth across my body. Sweet and salty liquids washed through my mouth as my nostrils filled with acrid smoke, and the whole thing cycled from hot to cold and back again.

 

I fell asleep and dreamt of flying above fields of golden daisies with sunshine filling a perfect golden sky. I dreamt of babies with blue eyes, alive but never living, their blue eyes filling blue seas with blue pain.

 

 

 

 

 

Mather, Matthew's books