Chapter Ten

Scotty was building himself the perfect woman. He sat half-naked on his crusty bedsheets, bent forward, obese and wheezing. On his tablet, he chose from a menu of physical features to define everything from hairstyle to leg length to eye color to shape of the ass to preferred curve of the bosom.

To finish off his creation, he ticked boxes in a quick checklist of personality traits. He desired ‘submissive’, ‘cheerful’ and ‘moderate intelligence’. He gave her a name: ‘Tulip’. He felt it was a pretty name.

Once assembled, she looked scrumptious – bright-eyed, eager and fully disrobed. He quickly uploaded her for a Dynamica virtual reality experience.

Sex, to be specific.

It was the cap on another glorious day of chipfeed sensations that began with Lost in a Candy Factory, continued with Mixed Martial Arts Bloodsport and moved on to the Sniper Zone. Over the course of eight hours, he had sampled a dazzling array of delectable sugar treats, beat the shit out of a series of would-be champion fighters, and then shot several hundred rampaging terrorists. It felt good. Banging the hell out of Tulip in the Dynamica Honeymoon Suite would be a rousing climax, and if rated highly, he would bookmark her in his list of Favorites for future encounters.

Poking the handheld controller, he activated Hot Sex Action and selected Tulip from his playlist. Wearing his Dynamica eye cover to shut out natural light, he leaned back against a stack of pillows and awaited the beginning of a tantalizing stimulation that would start in his head and travel down to his groin.

He smiled. A luxurious honeymoon suite filled his senses – sight, sounds, textures, smells. Tulip was presented before him in a big bed, tucked nude between pink silk sheets, waiting for him with a moist and inviting smile.

“Oh yeah,” said Scotty. In his imagination, he stood erect at the foot of the bed, equally naked. His bare feet touched shag carpeting. He could feel it between his toes.

As he stepped toward her, a rush of adrenaline raced through his body. He experienced a jumbo-sized erection of superhuman dimensions.

Then he was hit with a rude interruption. His vision filled with big, bold, blinking red letters.

ALERT.

“What the hell?” he shouted out loud.

Then he received the message: ‘DOOR BELL’.

Scotty cursed himself for not turning off alerts before initiating chipsex. The text alerts popped up periodically with annoying reminders for him to empty his bladder and bowels or eat real food to sustain his physical existence.

‘DOOR BELL’ startled him because he had experienced it so rarely – hardly anyone came to the door.

“God damn it,” he grumbled. He trusted that one of the other two roommates was also receiving the alert and would handle it. Hell, he was farthest from the front door. Let Larry or Desmond deal with it!

But they didn’t. Perhaps they had turned off doorbell notifications. Or maybe they refused to interrupt their own chipfeed experiences.

As the ‘DOOR BELL’ alert continued to flash, Scotty tried to ignore it. But then he became curious….

What if it was a delivery of Body Fuel bars or Hydration Packs? He needed those things to stay physically stable while engaging in lengthy chipfeed marathons. He couldn’t remember if his current stock was getting low.

Or— what if the caller was testing to see if anyone was home and planning to rob the place if no one answered? They had experienced trouble with brazen burglars in the past.

The words ‘DOOR BELL’ continued to flicker in his mind.

Scotty swore again and paused his chipfeed. He could not enjoy ravaging Tulip with this distraction. He ripped the eye cover from his head. He fumbled and stumbled off the bed and into a standing position. He pulled on some pants.

He went downstairs. Desmond remained sprawled in his usual spot, delirious on the couch, lost in a chipfeed, spewing drool. Scotty silently gave him the finger and then opened the front door.

A slight man in a neatly pressed button-down shirt and wool slacks stood before him. He was well groomed with slicked-back hair, smiling and holding an electronic tablet.

“Hello. I’m looking for Aaron Holt.”

Just hearing the name out loud fueled Scotty with a fresh rise of agitation.

“Aaron? He’s not here.”

“Would you happen to—”

“No. I have no idea where he is. He’s an asshole. He stays away from us most of the time.” Scotty had a difficult time spitting the words out. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in days.

“Am I correct in listing the occupants of this residence as Larry Wellington, Desmond Irving, Scott Wellington and Aaron Holt?”

“What the hell is it of your business?”

“I’m with the government agency of citizenship.”

Scotty eyed the little man suspiciously. “What do you want with us?”

“It’s only Aaron that I wish to speak with. The rest of you are in compliance.”

“Compliance?”

“Yes. You see, we’re reaching out to individuals who are not yet chipped to sign them up, free of charge, so they can enter our government database for benefits and services.”

“He doesn’t have the chip.”

“Yes, that is what our records indicate.”

“Good luck getting him chipped. He won’t do it. He hates the chip.”

“Perhaps he just doesn’t understand it. New technology can be intimidating for some people. We’re here to help. The chip will give him access to Social Security, voter registration, citizenship privileges. There’s nothing for him to be concerned about. It’s quite beneficial. As you, yourself, have experienced.”

“I think the chip is totally great.”

“Of course it is. It’s the way of the future. Why be left behind? You wouldn’t want to still be using a typewriter…or rotary phone…or horse and buggy, God forbid.”

“So what do you want from me?”

The little man handed Scotty a business card with a name and number. “This is my contact information. If you could, please ask Mr. Holt to follow up in the next couple of days.”

Scotty took the card and shrugged at it in bemusement. “He’s not going to call you.”

“The chip is mandatory.” The little man continued smiling. “He’ll come around.”

“We’ll see.”

“There’s an incentive for effective referrals. You could receive complementary credits toward future chipfeeds. Say, eight months’ worth.”

Scotty tightened his grip on the business card and gave it another look. “No fooling?”

“I would hate to place Mr. Holt on our resistance list. That would require more drastic measures. If you could convince him to be a willing participant, I’ll make it worth your while. I’m compensated for every person I enlist. I’m sure we could work something out.”

“I’ll bet we could,” Scotty said. He liked the idea of forcing the chip on that snooty, condescending asshole Aaron. Even better, he loved the idea of free credits, since his Government Survival Checks barely covered the cost of living and some of the more coveted chipfeeds, like Build A Babe and S&M Dungeon.

“I look forward to partnering with you,” said the little man. His eyes barely blinked and the smile did not leave his face. He left to advance to the next house on his list, clutching his tablet.

Scotty shut the front door. Desmond remained on the couch, occasionally twitching with some unknown delight. Scotty looked at the business card one more time and shoved it into his pants pocket. Then he returned upstairs.

In his bedroom, he loosened his belt and retrieved his eye cover and handheld controller, excited to return to the lovely Tulip. She remained paused, frozen in the exact place he had left her. “I’m back, sweetie,” he said. He activated his ideal lover and launched into a fresh adventure.