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Lettie Prell: The Three Lives of Sonata James

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Lettie Prell The Three Lives of Sonata James

The Three Lives of Sonata James: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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In a cyber-enhanced, futuristic Chicago, Sonata knows near-immortality is achievable through downloading her mind into a cyborg body after death. But this young artist wants to prove that living forever isn’t the same as living a beautiful life. At the Publisher’s request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

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“And just how old will I be when I’m supposed to change my mind about everything?” she muttered to herself. The crowd had slowed to a crawl. There were too many people these days. Exasperated, she pushed forward, not caring that she was bumping people. She was nearly at the end of the block, and up ahead through the sea of bodies she saw the green light. Anyone could see it was time to walk, yet no one was. It was like they were waiting to be herded. She shoved forward in exasperation, hearing horns blaring from different directions, and stepped out into the street where there was some space to move at last—

She felt a jolt along her left side just as she heard a whoop of siren from the same direction, and then she was floating. Distantly, she heard the screech of brakes and a scream not her own. She saw rust-colored leaves blow from the tree across the street and go fluttering in slow motion against blue sky. Then her head slammed into pavement, which normally didn’t happen when one was flying. The world was atilt. She saw the face of a little boy, his mouth shaped in the exact oval of his head. Then the sun was in her eyes, or not the sun but a blinding stab from behind her eyes. The pain shot down her side even as her head felt stuffed like a pillow. Everything became a blur. Even the sounds seemed to smear together. Then all collapsed inward upon itself, contracting until the entire universe was but a single point. Then nothingness.

Development: Vivace

Sonata opened her eyes to find the kind and intelligent faces of three newbies gazing down upon her. Then she recognized two of them and sat up quickly with a gasp. Or at least, she tried to gasp, but she couldn’t draw in any air. She tried again to breathe, and then panic set in. She clawed at her throat but no one moved to help her. It was her worst nightmare. She flashed back to being in the water at the Washington Park Pool, ten years old, holding on to the edge as she followed her girlfriend Lana around the perimeter. There were two men in their way, and Lana went around them. Sonata let go of the edge too, realizing too late she was toward the deep end. She couldn’t swim. Her eyes went wide as she fell back in the water and slipped under. One of the men had reached out to pull her up—

The newbie with the silvery face, who had said something to her in the coffee shop earlier—and who she would come to know as Miller—was speaking to her in calm tones. “Become aware of your body,” he repeated.

Sonata answered with a scream. At least she could still do that.

The blue-skinned newbie who had also been there stood beside a shorter newbie whose form closely resembled a man’s body. They nodded in encouragement at her efforts. Later she would know them as Satchya and Kent.

Miller continued with beatific patience. “Observe your own distress. Feel your body. Is your heart racing?”

She couldn’t stop clawing at her throat. She couldn’t feel anything but her inability to breathe.

Miller answered for her. “No, your heart is not racing. There is no heart to beat. You are not sweating. Notice how calm your body is. It’s operating exactly as it should. Your panic is in your mind only.”

Newbody. Sonata forced the word past her animal reflexes. With great effort, she removed her hands from her throat. That’s when she noticed her new hands. She stared at them. They were black like polished onyx, and gorgeous. But what mesmerized her was the slowly moving musical score that wound silently around her fingers and wrists before proceeding at a stately pace up her arms.

“That’s right,” Miller cooed. “See? They call us newbies, but that’s short for NBs. Non-breathers.”

She saw it was true. She laughed her new laugh, without needing to fuel it with breath. Just like her scream had been without breath.

The musical score wound gracefully around her torso as well, and down her legs, where it appeared to pool before it reversed course. “How did you know? I didn’t have time to record any plans.”

The blue-skinned newbie she would soon learn was called Satchya made a low chuckling noise. “Everything about you is captured in the upload.”

It took a moment to put it all together. “This is my sonata.” She heard the tinge of awe in her voice.

Satchya regarded her approvingly. “We wanted to give you a form that reflected your intentions and desires for yourself.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” She wondered if it was appropriate to thank them. She pointed at Miller and Satchya. “You two were at the coffee shop just now.” Then she stared at Kent, the newbie she did not know.

“Your accident occurred close by,” Satchya said. “When your bio-alert signaled the emergency, we responded and brought you in.”

“I’m the technician,” Kent said, a touch of shyness in his voice.

“How long…?”

“It’s seven p.m.,” Kent said. “Same day as your death.”

“My mother?”

“She’s waiting down the hall,” Satchya said. “I’m sure she’ll be relieved to see you functioning.”

Sonata rose from the table where she’d been created. Her movements were effortlessly smooth, without core muscles clenching in the belly or the dull thud of feet striking the floor. She was suddenly embarrassed her mother might not approve of how black she was, nor care for the musical embellishments on her surface. Her face didn’t grow hot with emotion, however, so she let her concern slide away.

Miller touched her arm lightly, a sensation of coolness against coolness, slightly metallic yet yielding. “Come meet us tonight, after your mother goes to bed.”

They were all going to be friends, then. She smiled. “Where?”

There was an instant transfer of data through the touch. Miller’s name and salutary information, as well as coordinates for where to meet and when. Satchya and Kent touched her as well, transferring their salutary information. It took fewer than ten seconds, she noted with her inner clock. Then she was out the door, accessing the virtual map that showed her the way to the waiting room to greet her mother.

* * *

Sonata spent the night in Lake Michigan. She’d met Miller, Satchya, and Kent by Shedd Aquarium at twelve thirty.

Miller’s silvery face shone in the moonlight. “Ready to face your inmost fears?”

Kent slapped her on the back. Again she felt that yielding, slightly metal sensation. “Tag. You’re it.” Then he ran full-speed into the harbor waters. Sonata hesitated, watching as Miller and Satchya bolted as well, then splashed and hooted at her.

Sonata closed her eyes and focused on her body. It was utterly still and calm. The fear was all in her mind, then, once again. She opened her eyes and challenged herself in the language of childhood: Geronimo! She ran toward the group.

The nightlong odyssey was full of self-discovery. Not only did Sonata overcome her fear of drowning, reveling in the fact she didn’t have to breathe, she could also swim, and quickly, nearly keeping up with a northern pike they’d surprised as they glided in the relative calm several yards beneath the choppy surface. They navigated by their internal maps, used GPS to track one another, and communicated by way of subvocal messaging protocol. The latter Sonata fancied was akin to ESP, and she pretended they were psychic secret agents on an espionage mission.

As they finished their frolic, emerging from the waters by the Navy Pier, she felt a deep tranquility settle into her titanium bones. She regarded the huge skeleton of the Ferris wheel looming in the night and wondered how negative emotions like fear sloughed away while this transcendent feeling lingered. Epicurus himself would’ve been jealous of her attainment, she thought, this newfound peacefulness born of an absence of bodily pain. Most people who hadn’t taken philosophy didn’t get what hedonism was really all about, and until tonight, she had had book knowledge only.

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