14

She leaves Max’s room. The lighting in the open plan kitchen and living area feels very harsh, the windows a black lake. She feels lonely. Don’t be afraid, her Holophin says. It starts to sing ‘You Are My Sunshine’. She goes to her room, turns out the light and wraps herself in her duvet. In the vector corridor she goes straight to the orange Nautilus door and puts her hand to it. She had almost forgotten about it. She isn’t expecting anything special: Ookami have been playing catch-up for the last five years, and there’s something distinctly average about their aesthetic. It puts you in mind of surplus stores and shopping channels, the attendant boredom and despair. Why would anyone put that in their head?

The orange Nautilus sends a warm feeling through her arm. The whole corridor floods with orange. It overflows and washes her out of the Holophin interface into a clearing of paper grass. It is dark, but brightly coloured papercuts of trees extend around her, between floating fronds of turquoise seaweed. The Nautilus interface leans rather heavily on Matisse, but there is something so crisp and present about the paper, how substantial it feels on your visualisation of your hands, the way it folds when you activate it, which Hatsuka cannot help but admire. Ookami’s silver wolf-eye logo appears in place of the moon. A little Holophin orbits the moon, towing the phrase RETURN TO HOLOPHIN CORRIDOR. It’s elegant. It’s more than elegant. No menus or commands. Everything a gesture, a thought. It’s what Takin dreams of.

You have several viruses in your memory enhancement software, says the Nautilus, calmly. Would you like me to remove them?

‘Who designed this?’ says Hatsuka.

The Ookami Nautilus is a registered trademark of Ookami Trading Ltd., says the Nautilus. Credits are currently unavailable. We apologise for the inconvenience.

‘It’s beautiful,’ says Hatsuka.

Thank you, says the Nautilus.

She copies and pastes the text of ‘The Golden Guitar’ into the Nautilus. ‘Can you do anything with this?’

What did you have in mind?

‘Can you drop me in?’

Of course.

Just beyond the papercut trees Hatsuka can make out the entrance to a white marble hallway. I am with her always. She picks her way towards it.

‘You know about the Pilot Holophin?’ she says.

Yes, says the Nautilus.

In the entryway of the white marble hallway she runs the story through me, too.

‘Do you think you can work together?’ she says.