Stygian Reveries

MAKE A WISH

such a fuss about it – it’s not like you won’t be getting changed anyway, you’re too picky with your outfits nowadays – but I really do have to go now. It’s been a day since your death, the dinner with the Mollusks is tonight at six. Make sure you’re not late again, and dress appropriately this time. No more ‘holo-clothes,’ got it?” She glared at me, but didn’t even wait for a response before she turned and left again, taking all the staff with her. I was left alone in the hallway, and with nothing else to do, I went inside “Jhonny’s” room. Like the door, everything was steel and neon blue, from floor to ceiling, and there were holographic displays everywhere. There were clothes and gadgets littered all over the floor, and a vanity overflowing with gems and gold sat next to what I assumed would be the closet, given the shirt-and-pants shapes on the display cast in front of what seemed to be a blank wall. The shelf sticking out from the wall next to the bed was the only thing kept relatively tidy, with a phone, what looked like a wristband, and a small box being the only things on it, arranged neatly and carefully. I sat on the bed, nearly jumping up again with surprise as it seemed to collapse beneath me, but it was just the give of an extremely soft mattress. I picked up the box, opening it out of curiosity to find a pair of diamond stud earrings, set in silver, nestled in dark blue velvet. I put it down again, fingering the holes they’d punched in my ear lobes a few weeks ago, lacking the basic metal studs they had us wear to keep the holes from closing. Grabbing the wristband next, I found it to be whatever device gave the woman – Jhonny’s mother – her holographic display. Lights flickered on, and a “Welcome back, Jhonny” message assaulted my face, informing me that I’d passed the biological identity confirmation. Considering I’m supposedly a clone of Jhonny’s, I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me, after dismissing an avalanche of cookie-cutter copies of “Sorry you died, message me when you’re back!” messages, was the realization that Jhonny didn’t need a phone, since he had this. I put the wristband down again, next to the earrings, and picked up the phone. It was off, but powered on easily enough. This one didn’t have hundreds of unread messages, or any notifications at all, actually. The only application beyond texting and calls was a “notes” app, containing what seemed to be a diary, every entry titled with a date. Tapping yesterday’s brought up an entry detailing the plans for the yacht incident, including specific details about who would be attending and when and where it would happen, formatted like a letter to himself, though he called himself “Jaundice” instead. He was planning on dying, and knew he’d wake up again, this made it clear. A note at the end, added almost as an afterthought, read “Maybe this time mother will care, since I’m breaking something she actually cares about instead of just myself.” I close the app, power off the phone, and put it down again. If anyone realizes that I’m not Jhonny, they’ll probably kill me and try again with a different “vessel.” I thought it would be hard to pretend to be someone else, especially a rich kid who’d been born with a diamond encrusted golden spoon set in his mouth, someone who couldn’t be farther from myself. But it might be easier than I thought. I put the wristband on, then pick up the box with the earrings. Jhonny’s mother barely looked at him, and didn’t notice or care how quiet he was being. The servants didn’t seem to even notice him as I trailed along behind her. And the notes app diary that Jhonny kept suggested he didn’t have anyone to confide in except himself. “If nobody cares about Jhonny,” I murmur to myself as I put on the earrings, “then nobody will care about me.”