Dale, Chandra and James - Saturday, May 21st, 2073 - Evening - Bainbridge Island
"And you madam?" asked an immaculately dressed, blonde haired, blue eyed, elven waitress, "What will you be eating tonight?"
Dale watched his girlfriend, Chandra, frown prettily as she looked at her menu in augmented reality. They hadn't opted for a physical menu and so her stylish AR glasses lit up with text that Dale could see from the other side. It didn't scroll and so he knew she'd found what she wanted, but was hesitating.
"Maybe I'll just have the salad," she hedged, but didn't sound certain.
"If the lady doesn't know what she wants I can come back," said the waitress deferentially.
Waiters and waitresses these days were something of a throwback. When you could order whenever you wanted wirelessly and have your meal delivered to your table via drone, they no longer mattered. It made the wait staff ornamental, and what an ornament she was. Lithe, leggy, cream skinned, with short, styled hair and beautiful in a way that had more to do with going under the knife or gene therapy rather than what she was born with. And from the way that she looked like so many other beautiful women, it'd come off the rack. Beauty at a bargain.
On the other hand, Chandra was an ork, with her pointed teeth jutting up from her lips, her "tusks" and her pointed ears that were different than an elf's as they were slightly more blunt on average. She was a bigger girl, both in height and curves. Her skin was tan, her eyes a beautiful brown and her hair was thick, dark and elegantly braided. Tonight she wore her best, a red dress with a long slit up the side and despite looking the best that Dale had ever seen her, she looked nervous. He wondered if she knew or at least suspected what he had in store for her.
"You know what you want," said Dale, a bit of laughter dancing around in his chest, "Live a little."
Chandra blushed and leaned forward a little which showed off her considerable cleavage, which Dale briefly appreciated. She caught him staring, gave him a look that spoke of bemusement, exasperation and a bit of pride that he was looking at her and not all of the beautiful people serving them or enjoying fine meals at other tables. After all, his love made her beauty without compare. And he knew that save for a bit of makeup, her beauty natural was totally her own.
"It's so expensive," she whispered, openly fretting.
Dale sat taller in his seat, a smile on his lips. Not only had he saved up for the ring he planned to propose to her with but he'd saved up for a meal at the best restaurant in the metroplex. At least the best outside of a corporate arcology, but they wouldn't have even let two orks work there, much less let them inside.
And honestly, diamonds weren't all that expensive these days anyway. New lab grown diamonds were indistinguishable from real ones no matter what that jeweler had tried to tell him. No, it was the meal that was going to be expensive. He'd sprung for this realmeal at the best place in town. No soy, krill or mushrooms were on the menu. There was real meat, real fruit, real cheese and real vegetables for those who could afford it. It'd taken two months of backbreaking overtime and eating little else but ramen noodles, but he'd saved enough to spoil his lady for a single dinner.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure," he said, confidently.
She bit her lip prettily, took a deep breath, smiled and then looked up to the waitress.
"I'd like to have the two inch thick bone-in ribeye," she said, with a slight quaver to her voice.
Someone, somewhere was likely salivating at the thought of bone-in ribeye. Meat could be faked, but meat attached to bones were harder to counterfeit. A bone was like having the tag still attached on newly bought designer clothing and the larger the bone, the harder to fake.
"Very good," said the waitress, "And you, sir?"
Dale smiled mischievously. He already knew what he wanted. He'd known for months. A pound of lobster seasoned with old bay with red potatoes, corn and drawn butter.
"The New England style lobster boil," he said, as if money was no object.
And tonight it wasn't. He wirelessly checked his bank account and he had more than enough not only for the meal but also for their honeymoon and the down payment on that dream house they'd been talking about for months.
Somewhere, someone who'd been drooling, frowned at some little incongruence. Dale had scrimped and saved to have this meal but now he had enough money for a honeymoon and a house? That didn't make sense. But the beautiful waitress was already bringing the wine that was paired with their meals as well as bringing them a plate of real fruit and cheese as an appetizer. That someone smiled as Chandra's face lit up from the dark wine she sipped. She covered her face for a moment, her blush and her love for Dale deepening.
"So..." said Chandra, "Here we are."
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"Do you like the view?" asked Dale.
Realmeal aside, he was also paying for the view. It was a view over the Puget Sound at night, the moon in its fullness illuminating the water. They were on Bainbridge Island and the sights, sounds and smells of the metroplex were far away. The only sounds he could hear were pleasant conversation from patrons at nearby tables, the waves on the beach and someone playing the piano not too far away.
"I love it!" she exclaimed, "It's perfect. Everything is perfect. I haven't had real fruit or cheese in...Oh, and this wine...You know it'll go to my head."
Dale looked down at his hands. Again, the faintest bit of disapproval. They'd never seen Dale. What did he look like? Ork, they guessed from the large hands and thick fingers, but they really didn't know. Though he knew Dale had dark skin. But it was only a faint disapproval, nothing more. With fruit and cheese to tide them over, wine on their lips and delicious food on the way, they waited. And it was such an easy wait too. After all, the woman of their dreams looked at them like they were the only man in the world. The feast for the senses drowned out those tiny criticisms.
"You know I like it when it does," said Dale, his voice throaty.
Chandra playfully slapped his hand with hers and then looked away, as pleased as she was embarrassed.
"You know I do too," she admitted, and bit her lip. "At least when I'm with you. But...I don't want to drink too much tonight. Not before..."
"Before?" asked Dale, innocently.
Again she frowned, this time in confusion, but not for long as Dale stood up from his chair, fell to one knee, pulled a tiny box from his pocket and opened it. Chandra's mouth fell open, lips parted prettily.
"Chanra, would you..."
"Yes!" she squealed, "Yes! Yesyesyes!"
She was vibrating with excitement. Dale stood up and they kissed passionately in the best restaurant in the metroplex, whose name failed to come to mind for some reason, under the fullness of the moon. Customers at other tables clapped for them, briefly taking part in their happiness as Chandra slipped the betrothal ring onto her finger and they both returned to their seats.
"Oh my gosh," she whispered to herself, eyes closed, tears welling up in them.
"Did someone tell you?" asked Dale, "Who told you?"
Chandra shook her head.
"No one told me," she said, "I just knew. And...Well, now I can start drinking."
"We should get a bottle."
"Oh," she said, obviously pleased, and she purred, "So you want to get in trouble."
"Only if it's with you."
The went perfectly from there. A sumptuous meal, delightful conversation, a barefoot walk on the beach under the moon, a quick air taxi ride home and a night of passion. Dale held Chandra in their bed and she looked up at him, a deep and profound love in her eyes, mixed with sleepiness.
"I love you so much, error, name not found," said Chandra.
And Chandra fell asleep in error name not found's arms.
Dale, Chandra, the bed, everything was ripped away. What was left was an addict in a dissociative state that came with better than life drugs. BTL, or beetles as they were called, were the single use computer simulation drugs that were popular among those wishing for an escape. It burned as it popped out of the cybernetic chipjack in the man's temple. Out of habit, he grabbed the tiny computer chip even though it scorched his fingers. BTL dealers sold chips that burned particularly hot after fusing and a number of other addicts had problems with the chips fusing in the jacks. Single use BTL's were how they kept customers coming back. At least until they stroked from redlining their brains or starving to death.
The chip clattered to the floor among heaps of other chips from other nearby addicts in the hallway. And if you walked across a place particularly thick with BTL addicts, the beetles tended to crunch underfoot, another reason why they were typically named after the insect.
None of this mattered though. What the addict cared about was one thing. One thing alone.
"Chandra?" he asked, his voice rough from disuse, "Where are you?
He quested about with his heavily emaciated arms and hands for the love of his life, but he did not find his Chandra. Nor did he actually know Chandra or Dale, nor had he eaten lobster before. Though if you were to ask James, for that was his name, he would tell you that he'd lived hundreds of different lives. He'd eaten the finest of meals. He'd loved and bedded the most beautiful of both women and men, along with those from every metatype: Human, elves, dwarves, orks, trolls and while he'd gone to bed with them all, he'd been all of those different metatypes as well. He'd visited multiple different countries. And, though this had been a mix-up from his dealer, he'd even experienced the miracle of birth. Not as a passive observer, but he'd been a pregnant woman who'd given birth to a child. A healthy baby boy.
The fact that they were enjoyed in normally snippets didn't matter. The fact that he was starving to death did not matter. The fact that not two feet away from him, another addict lay dead from a stroke on a pile of trash did not matter. The blood that had trickled from one nostril was crusted over.
The truth, or at least James' truth, was that this horrible life in the ACHE wasn't real. His raggedy, disposable clothing was in fact not stained with his own excrement as bladder and bowls voided themselves from him checking out of his body and into some new BTL. And he certainly wasn't going to die from a stroke.
James wasn't living his best life. In fact, James hated being James, which he always returned to after a few minutes or an hour or on one occasion, a full day in his newest best life.
James didn't want to live his best life. Not only did he not consider it real most days, it was just too restricting. He wanted to live every single best experience that metahumanity had to offer. Likely he'd never see Chandra again unless he bought that same BTL from the dealer down the way, and he considered it, but there was just so much more to experience. After all, Chandra was just the latest woman that he'd loved and bedded.
The man who did not want to be James didn't just want his best life. He wanted something better than life. And for another five nuyen, he could have it. And though his body was failing him, his addiction got him unsteadily to his feet for another hit. Perhaps for the last time. After all, he noticed the thin trickle of blood from not only his nose, but his ears, and was the left side of his body more numb than it was the last time he checked?
It didn't matter. James didn't care anymore. All that he cared about was living better than life.
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