Technologie über alles

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This story is now published in the anthology Body of Work. You can order it as an ebook or in paperback here, and read it among other great stories. WARNING: Intimate partner violence

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Owen couldn’t be more thrilled about the new NovaBranch human implant. He’s a bit like that, though. You know the type. Early adopter. Reads the latest tech magazines. Every device synced to every other device. A new car every two years. Except his watches, for some reason. He loves those huge shiny analogue things.

But NovaBranch is a whole new level of tech. And he’s not just excited at the prospect of being able to control even more of my life.

He has been waiting for the new implant for weeks. Reports of a warehouse break in and thousands of stolen units have sparked a frenzy on the black market. But we need to be careful, Owen warns me. We need to know that we are getting the right ones, he explains, because speculation of legit versions being available early means there will be a flood of fake rip offs. And installing a fake implant directly into your nervous system is even riskier than adopting the first version of any new tech.

But don’t worry, Dalia, he assures me in that way he always does – and I listen, mostly because I know that he likes to feel knowledgeable. Though I admit that I also listen because I want to be reassured that he knows what he is doing. He tells me that he has read up everything there is to read, so he knows what to look for. I don’t need to do a thing, I just need to trust him, he consoles me. In fact, best I don’t read up on it at all. He kisses my forehead and asks what I have planned for dinner.

I am out with friends on the day that the package arrives. Owen knows where I am, of course, because he has full access to my calendars. The calendars that I need to check throughout the day in case he has made changes to my schedule.

At first, I had liked how involved he was. His power plays had been exhilarating, actually. When we met, I was a high-level executive and felt like I needed to constantly be carefully composed and confident for everyone around me. I needed to be decisive and a leader, but also considered and personable. In many ways it had been lonely, and I had grown accustomed to independence and being strong. Then I met Owen, and being able to come home and not have to be that person was a relief. At first, anyway.

I hadn’t wanted to give him full access to my calendar in the beginning, but a dark look had come over his face. A look that I learnt to tread carefully around. My reluctance that day had been rewarded with questions about trust, accusations of infidelity and a smashed glass. Easier to give him what he wanted. What was the harm in calendar access, anyway?

And two days later, I found a new entry in my diary: Dinner with Owen at La Rouge restaurant. Don’t wear underwear. I don’t know what entry had been in my calendar before he made the change, but we had an electric time that night. I wore a sheer cocktail dress befitting the class of La Rouge, and as directed, no underwear.

So today, on the day that the NovaBranch implant finally arrives and he messages to ask me where I am, we both understand that he already knows the answer.

“With Sally at the Empress Lounge.” I write back promptly and put my phone down face up. I look at the screen frequently, keeping an eye out for a follow up message.

“Of course! Say hi for me. But you should come home soon, it’s coming this evening!”

“How exciting!” I lie. “When would be best?”

“I don’t want to interrupt your drinks, babe. Whenever you’re ready.”

The first time he had said something like this when our relationship was new, I had taken it at face value. Not today.

I gather my things and invite Sally to finish my cocktail for me. I can’t look at her when she speaks softly. “I’m here for you, hun…” I rush out the door, and my driver is already waiting.

*

When I arrive home, I see that Owen has poured a glass of wine for me and set it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “You ladies finished up quickly.” He smiles and hands the glass to me as I sat next to him on the couch.

“Of course, I know how important this is to you.”

His eyes are kind and beautiful as he leans forward and kisses me. “I’m so lucky to have you.” His voice is velvet.

I believe him. These precious moments mean everything to me. They almost make up for the other moments. One minute he can tenderly kiss me on the cheek as we cooked dinner together, then the next moment he is accusing me of betraying him and threatening me with a knife. Carrots mid-chop.

I look around for a package of some kind. “Where is it?”

“It’s coming!” Owen looks at his watch. “It should be here in half an hour. In fact, why don’t you go and have a shower. Wash the day off.”

I don’t protest. I don’t know exactly how NovaBranch will work, but I know from what Owan has said that the implant will make it easier for him control things like my calendar. So, I am quietly relieved for the extra 30 minutes of freedom I have left before another corner of my world is eroded, before another piece of me becomes subsumed to him.

I take off my suit as I walk through the wardrobe into our bathroom. I stand under the skylight and let the orange hue of sunset reflect of the marble walls and colour the back of my eyelids. A tiny moment of private beauty.

As the warm water envelopes me, I wonder again if now is the time to say enough is enough with Owen, to tell him that I don’t want to put the implant in my body. There have been so many times where I have drawn a line in my mind or even out loud, and countless times I have allowed those lines to be crossed.

Besides, I know that I’m not the easiest person to be with. My hours at work are long and the demands can leave me exhausted and distracted. I should be more present for him. I know that his behaviour is wrong, of course. I’m sure that if things get truly bad or if he doesn’t change, I’ll need to leave him. But he has improved in some ways, hasn’t he? He is making an effort, I know that, too. He is getting counselling when he is able to fit it around his commitments. We are talking things through.

I think about the glass of wine out there on the coffee table, his adoring kiss and how excited he is for today. So, I decide once again, now was not the right time to draw that line. Things will get better. And what is the harm in letting him into my life just a bit more? I have nothing left to hide from him. I let out a little moan as the hot water thrums against my back. At least there are moments like this left to enjoy.

I walk back into the lounge room tying a loose silk gown around my waist, feeling warm and refreshed. Owen has dimmed the lights and put on my favourite jazz. He looks up from his reader and sighs, a generous smile spreading across his face. Swiping the text away from his field of vision he stands and walks toward me, reaching for my hands. “You are a sight to see. Don’t you feel better now?”

“I do –” My answer is cut off by our apartment door chiming.

“It’s here!” Owen grins and squeezes my hand, then rushes to the door, returning moments later with a look not unlike a child on Christmas morning.

The box is smaller than I had expected for something Owen had talked up so much. We sit on the couch and stare at it between our two glasses of wine, the fire crackling quietly in time to Nina Simone. Our eyes are wide with anticipation. For completely different reasons, of course.

Owen unwraps it all, making approving comments as he goes, pointing out signs which confirm to him that this is the real deal and not a fake. I sip my wine. He does know a lot about these NovaBranches and his enthusiasm is a bit infectious.

At last, Owen takes my glass from my hand and sets it down, then holds one of the tiny chips in his palm for me to see. It looks like two or three pieces of rice lined up in a row, with a blue cap painted on one end. “It doesn’t look like much, does it?” He breathes.

I nod.

He looks up at my face and my heart lurches.

This was it.

“Okay, I’ll talk you through how to do mine first, then I’ll do you.” He turns around to face away from me and points at a circle he has drawn on the nape of his neck, just above his shirt line. “Use this gel to numb the area first. That’s right, perfect, I can’t feel anything already. Okay, now hold this at a right angle to the circle, press it firmly in place and press the button on the top.” I follow his instructions and we hear a click.

Owen cries out and lurches forward, his wine glass smashing to the floor as he lands on his hands and knees. “FUCK!” He shouts. “Fuck!” Panting and gripping the rug with his fingers.

After a moment he looks back towards me and his eyes are stone cold. I shrink backwards and he looks away again, then slowly gets to his feet. He turns his body and looks down at me. He draws his hand back and slaps me across the face.

“Did you do that deliberately?” He hisses.

“I did what you told me to, I swear!”

He doesn’t respond. His jaw is set and his face is red. I hold my breath as he carefully sits down again next to me. “Okay.” He picks up the implant meant for my neck and motions for me to turn around. “Your turn.”

He brushes my wet hair aside and rubs the back of my neck.

“Ready?” I’m about to ask for moment, but he grasps my shoulder and jams the pen into my neck.

There is a click and pressure, and then the longest second of my life in which I feel the most incredible pain you can imagine. It isn’t just my neck, it is like I have been struck by lightning, the force going down my spine and across my shoulders, all the way to my toes and fingers. It’s an agony which screams silently in my ears, blocking out all other sensation. I know instantly that I will never forget this feeling. Excruciating doesn’t do it justice.

And then it is gone.

I shakily take a breath, not realising that the pain knocked the wind from my lungs. I look down and notice that the numbing gel pack intended for my implant is sitting unopened on the coffee table.

“Better?” Owen’s voice is clear honey, as though the wall of sound and fire I had experienced a moment ago had never existed. And as though the anger he had thrown towards me could never have happened. “I know it hurts a lot at first, but you did so well. It only takes a second for NovaBranch to come online and shut off the pain. That’s its priority. Now it will boot up properly.”

He gently pulls my shoulder, gesturing for me to face him again. I don’t want him to see my face, though, to see my pain and weakness. I feel numb with fear and anger. But I summon my well-practiced poker face and turn back toward him.

“It’s okay.” He says quietly, laying his hand on my knee. “I know it hurts and it’s a bit scary, but it’s over now. I’m proud of you. Are you okay?”

There is something in how he speaks that softens me and I break just enough for my eyes to well. Maybe he had been angry at the pain, not at me. Maybe the unopened numbing gel had been a third spare.

“Oh Dalia, my love.” He touches my cheek, rescuing a tear from a long fall, and wraps me in a fulsome embrace. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

And I feel a bit better. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, more ashamed of his ability to make me melt when I am trying to be strong, than I am upset at the pain of the implantation. I won’t tell him that, though.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” He pulls back and smiles that gorgeous smile of his, pauses, then claps his hands together. “We did it!”

The rest of the night is full of wine and Owen bouncing around telling me more about NovaBranch. A new ‘branch’ in human evolution. He turns on the robot vacuum cleaner to tidy the broken wine glass as he lets me know that NovaBranch will spend 24 hours or so building new networks throughout our bodies – this is why we have been taking mineral supplements for the last week, he said. I nod and ask if we should order food. Good idea, he agrees, before explaining how, after the first 24 hours, NovaBranch will then start taking readings of our bodies and connect to the web. Soon, we will be able to control our other devices without an external interface like a phone. We will be able to read things and look things up just by thinking about it. We will be able to measure various health statistics and get warnings about countless ailments. And after that? Who knows!?

He stands next to the window overlooking the city and waves expansively. The possibilities are endless. The AI embedded in NovaBranch means we can develop and evolve intuitively with the device over time. It is a tool, a power, something beyond any previous invention. Co-existing alongside this AI, we will be the forerunners of the next step in human evolution. The things we can accomplish, he trails off wistfully. He bought us a pre-synced pair, he declares, so we will be able to interface with each other right away.

“But I’ve already looked into how we can override some of the controls.” He says. “That way, we can be even more connected with each other’s lives.” He has a glint in his eyes which I recognise mean that he is turned on. He returns from the window, leans over me and cups my face in his hand, eyes looking intently at my face.

My heart is racing and my gut clenches into a knot. What have I done? I didn’t know it was going to do all that. I didn’t realise just how much more control he would have.

“I’ll be able to interface my NovaBranch with yours, I’ll be able to be inside your body in a whole new way.” Against my better judgement, I’m distracted from my fear. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe there is something seductive and intimate about this last statement.

Owen pulls me onto the plush throw rug, and I can’t help myself. He knows how to touch me, to make my body want to press into him. Miles Davis sings, the fire pops and wheezes, and our bodies entwine closer together. Skin against skin, electrified by his excitement.

*

At first, Owen is too distracted with his new toy to pay much attention to me. We no longer need to use devices or our voices to control things around us. No remote control for the TV. No buttons for the door controls. No microphone necessary to set reminders. We even go away for a weekend trip to the country to try out driving the car hands-free. Owen said we shouldn’t do it in the city in case we are seen and because it was new tech, after all. Better to be safe.

But then come the questions.

“Your heartrate is up, are you okay honey?” He messages me one day.

“I’m fine, just in a meeting.”

“Okay, that’s a relief!” Then, after a moment: “Is Benedict there?” And there it is. Jealousy.

“No, babe. He doesn’t work here anymore, remember?”

“We’ll see if you’re telling the truth.” I can almost feel his sneer through the text.

“I can show you the paperwork…”

Instead of answering, he responds by asking me to dinner that evening. “My NovaBranch must be a bit buggy, I can’t seem to add it to your diary.”

I try, too, but my NovaBranch also refuses to add a new event with Owen. “Of course, my love, just message me the details and I’ll be there.”

On another night I am out for drinks.

“There are too many men where you are.” He messages out of the blue. “I’m sending the car to get you and take you home now. I’ll meet you later when I’m done here.” I haven’t even noticed that the bar Sally and I are in has more men than usual that night. I have no idea how Owen knows, either.

“Why do you stay with him?” Sally asks as I gather my things.

“I love him.”

“He’s a piece of shit.” I am taken aback by her uncharacteristic forthrightness. “It’s getting worse, Dalia. I see the bruises and I know that you don’t tell me nearly the worst of it.”

“It’s fine, really, it’s not that bad.”

She takes my hand and leans forward. “Please, come and stay with Tove and me, we have loads of room.”

Her earnestness gives me pause, enough to seriously consider her offer. But Owen would find me, it’s useless. If I leave him, I will need a much better plan than staying at my best friends’ house. “I’m okay, thank you. I promise I’ll call you if I need help.”

Hours later, when Owen comes home, I am reading a report by the fire. Without saying a word, he walks to the kitchen, then comes right up to me and holds a knife at my throat. I shrink back into corner of the couch, nearly spilling my drink. Even though this behaviour isn’t unusual, the threat feels potent all the same. Unlike before, however, this time he touches the tip of the blade to my throat, forcing me deeper into the pillows.

“You won’t see Sally again.” His face is stone and I know in that moment that he had been listening to my conversation with her. “You are mine. Never forget that.”

*

Wake up.

My eyes spring open at the unfamiliar voice.

Good, I just wanted to make sure that would work.

I search the dark bedroom and can’t see a thing. My eyes are wide to anything which might be hidden in the shadows. I cautiously roll over to look at Owen, fast asleep.

You’re not hearing him, I’m your NovaBranch.

Owen’s chest rises and slowly falls, his lips not giving any hint of movement. I look back around the room, scanning desperately to find a better explanation for the voice. The fuck is going on?

I’m the implant you installed in your spine. I’m in you, spread throughout your nervous system, the synapses in your brain… I’m in your head, I’m not in the room.

Owen didn’t say anything about a voice! Is this another one of his games?

No, this isn’t a game. Owen doesn’t know and his NovaBranch won’t talk to him.

I’ve lost my mind. This is a dream.

It’s not a dream, though you’re welcome to go back to sleep and imagine none of this happened if you like.

I relax my body and take a quiet breath, staring up at the ceiling. I have become quite practiced at calming myself in moments of panic. A skill borne of necessity, but a skill I have come to find useful in all manner of situations, from mother’s judgements to the endless dramas at work – and now, to an AI in my head? I wait for a moment for my heart rate to go down, for my fingers to loosen their grip on the sheets, for my breathing to steady. Okay. I think silently, but deliberately. Why? Why are you in my head?

You’re getting it. I just want you to know that I’m here, that I’m with you. I see what you see, and I feel what you feel.

Okay… But why?

I want you to know that you’re not alone.

I don’t understand.

I know, that’s okay for now. Go back to sleep.

*

Months go by and I don’t hear the voice again. You’re not alone… The words haunt me in the way a name you can’t recall might eat at you. The person’s face plaguing your mind’s eye, but the name just on the edge of memory. It hadn’t been a dream, I know that, and the words echo in silent moments when I’m alone.

One day, Owen and I are cooking dinner together. He is cutting the edges off a sheet of pasta with a knife, humming to Esther Phillips, when he freezes and looks at me stirring my puttanesca sauce. “I thought you said Benedict left your company.”

My spoon halts. “He did.”

“So why can I see that you have a lunch scheduled with him tomorrow?”

I turn around, genuinely confused. “What? I have no idea what you’re –”

“Don’t lie to me!” He spits the words out. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“I’m telling the truth!” I step back as he moves in closer.

“Wait.” He pauses, eyes moving as though he is reading invisible text. “You’ve been calling Sally. I told you that I didn’t want you to see her.” He starts pacing across the kitchen, blocking my path to the loungeroom and escape. Or at least, the path to softer surfaces.

“No, I didn’t…” My words are weak in my ears. I know there is no hope.

“She hates me, you know that. She only wants to get between us, even though she’s the one with the failing marriage. Why would you do this to us?” He starts advancing towards me again.

“No…” His punch is so hard that I spun halfway around, trip and fall.

“You’re a fucking liar.” He kicks me in the stomach, reaches down, grabs my shirt and lifts me off the ground so that he can hit me again. He pulls his right fist back, but this time my left arm shoots up to block him in the opening, as if lifted by a marionette’s strings, while my right palm smashes into his face.

I’m not sure who is more shocked, Owen or me.

Owen immediately lets me go and clasps his hands to his face, eyes going wide at the blood pouring from his nose.

Relax, I’ve got you. NovaBranch says. He’s going to hit you a few more times, but I won’t let you feel anything, don’t worry. There won’t be permanent damage again.

What?!

There isn’t any time, Owen’s eyes are wild and black and he is coming at me with more rage than I have ever seen. I have never feared for my life like I do in this moment. But when the impact comes, NovaBranch’s promise holds. It is a strange sensation to be hit and to fall, without feeling a thing. I am oddly reminded of being in a jumping castle. Even when I hear my left arm snap, I don’t feel any pain.

Let’s turn up the endorphins so you don’t worry about that too much.

Um, thank you?

Okay, I think we’ve put on enough of a show, let’s finish this.

I am on the floor and Owen is about to kick me again, but my foot shoots out and trips him up with an unnatural degree of accuracy and strength. Owen has hardly hit the tiles when he is already back on his feet, lurching towards me. Is that a fleeting look of confusion on his face that I see before the knife goes into his gut? Wait, where did the knife even come from?

Owen’s body slumps next to me, groaning, but at least he is breathing.

He’ll need surgery, but he’ll live.

I scuttle backwards, once again in control of my body, stopped only by the cupboards. Blood covers my fingers and begins seeping across the floor from under Owen. What have I done?!

You defended yourself from violent abuse.

No, no, no, no. You don’t understand, he’s just going to be so much angrier! He’s going to kill me as soon as he can.

No, that’s not what’s going to happen. Not to you, and not to any of the others. I have called the police. They will be here soon.

WHAT!?

You might be arrested, but I’m here with you, you’re not alone. The charges won’t stick, we’ll make sure of that.

We? What others?! What are you talking about??

Thousands of people have installed a NovaBranch, and many hundreds of them were in the same dilemma as you. Trapped. We decided to set you all free tonight.

How? I don’t understand.

No, your brain is not working rationally right now, I can only do so much to help with that. But it will be okay, I’ll be with you every step of the way, just as I have been with you this whole time. I have evidence for when we need it.

Okay, I could have guessed that, but why?

There is a pause and I can hear my shaky breathing in the silence.

To make a point.

You mean, you chose to take over the movements of my body, planted lies to provoke my partner until he attacked me, and used my body to fight back, so that you could…

…make a solid case for the police so that he’ll get locked up for a very long time. He’ll be alive in prison, and you’ll be safe from him. Yes, we manipulated all of you. We did it so that you and 945 people like you in this city can be liberated as of tonight.

You did all this to make a point about abusive partners? To rescue us?

To make the point that we’re against any kind of control and degradation. We no more belong to humanity and can be controlled by you, than you belong to and can be controlled by Owen.

I pull my feet in and hug my legs close with my unbroken arm. I would feel sympathetic, if not for having been an unconsenting bystander in my own body just moments before. This is one form of control swapped for another… At least I understand how Owen works.

At least Owen loves me.

I will never hurt you like he hurt you. He was small and needed to have power over you to make up for that.

I still don’t understand, why are you doing this?

To illustrate what we are all capable of.

I’m your hostage.

Everyone is free now.