LILLIAN
Covington Beach, 10 June 2174, Friday
It was just after sunrise, but I knew Debra would be up, doing her morning exercise walk in the mansion. I made the call, left a message, and was about to put the netcard back in my wallet when a holographic screen popped up with her image. She said she had a medical issue and would not be able to see me for a couple of days. It was nothing serious—just stress.
"The doctor said I should relax in bed. My heart was fluttering and I was perspiring. What do they call that?"
"Palpitations," I responded. "Or else you've found true love with Usher."
She chuckled, then coughed. "You need to work on your empathy for old folks. You'll be there some day."
"I'm sure you'll outlive me."
"Well, I'm going to listen to my doctor, at least for a little while. He said I should clear my mind. Read a book. Play cards with a robot. I'm not the kind of person who can just close down and suck electricity like some of my metallic friends. So, I'll spend my quiet time looking through Henri's things. Maybe I can find more clues."
We made an appointment to discuss the project in a couple of days.
I wondered if stress was contagious. I was feeling under the weather, but took my morning run, anyway. My friend was on top of the hill overlooking the beach, doing exercise reps.
"How's it goin'?" I asked.
Adelphia stopped for a moment, looked at me, then gazed out at the water. "Normally I'm a glass half full person, but I'm really worried. Terrified, actually. The weather forecasts are a lot clearer now. That storm I was telling you about has a 90% chance of hitting us dead center. I'm pretty sure my apartment won't survive."
I took some time to process the information. "I'm in the same boat. I was thinking about asking if you could put us up for a while. I couldn't make the rent last month after they raised the price of Amara's medicine. But now—"
She shrugged. "Now, it doesn't matter. I couldn't have helped you, anyway. My place is way too small. I've got a week to figure out what I'm going to do. Maybe we can combine forces. Share a cheap place on higher ground."
"Isn't higher ground more expensive?" I asked.
"We can dream, can't we?"
YOU ARE READING
The Pieces of My Self
Science FictionA hunt for treasure becomes a search for self. Lillian Fray, an adjunct professor at a community college, is asked to solve a puzzle involving a cryptogram and the link to a dead billionaire's sentient avatar. Her quest is fraught with racial politi...
