Saving Time in a Bottle

The clock switched over to 9:30 AM and the house started waking up, the heating switched on automatically as the kettle activated and began boiling water for coffee. The room was illuminated by the aura of the holographic interface known as Kate.

Kate appeared in the middle of the room and spoke in a soft surreal voice that James had picked out.

James sighed and groaned. He had chosen the sexy 3D female avatar and voice to provide some audible sense of company and visual titillation, but right now ‘she’ might as well be a wrinkly bag lady with a gravelly voice and megaphone.

“Good morning James the time is 9.40 AM.”

“Good morning.”

He sighed, blinking and looking up at the ceiling as the lights slowly turned on, they were dimmer to start with to allow his eyes time to adjust.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“Tired.”

He yawned and sat up in bed, his old bones creaking as he did so. He sighed, god he hated getting old even pooping hurt sometimes. He was finding it more and more difficult to get out of bed in the mornings and was wondering how long it would be before he would need to go into a home. He was trying to put it off for as long as possible, but he could feel himself slipping. The ever tenacious presence of death as the shadowy figure, breathing on the nape of his neck, reminding him that he was always there ... waiting.

He sighed, slid back down, and rolled over to look up at the ceiling. He could hear the waves of the sea crashing against the beach outside as he started to wake up. James rolled to the side of the bed and, with a groan, pushed himself up. He swung his feet off the bed and cautiously stood up. Satisfied that he still had his balance, he made his way to the toilet to take his morning piss.

James went to the bathroom and the avatar followed him from room to room, the sensors picked up where he was and she appeared. At first, it had been disconcerting but then he had gotten used to it over time and now relied on the avatar’s company.

‘How sad,’ he mused.

She appeared in the bathroom as he tugged down his pajamas and sighed as he went into the bowl.

“Kate: morning summary.”

“Iran is causing trouble again.”

“Not surprised. Next.”

“More terrorist actions in the Islamic countries of the Persian Gulf.”

“The more things change, the more they stay the same, next.”

“President Johnson has announced that she is running for a second term.”

America had finally accepted having a woman in charge, sure they’d had a black man and that had been something special, but it had only occurred once in his lifetime. The American people didn’t have the balls yet to have a black woman or a gay person in charge yet, but things were slowly coming around.

But therein lay the problem with politics in general. Emilia was a hard-core progressive and that in itself caused issues.

Every time something would happen they’d swing a different way. When Trump had been President they’d swung hard left to Biden and what a disaster that had been. Inflation had been at its highest levels, taxes had gone through the roof, and woke - social justice warrior activists were rampant and had fucked television and tried to fuck everyone else, how dare you have different ideas from me. For a while it had gotten worse, if you said anything against pronouns, or different gender types you were evil personified, but then those people had grown up and grown out of it and things slowly returned back to normal. It took TV a good ten years to get back to a somewhat decent state where they stuck with just entertainment.

Still, it had been an interesting time as the pendulum of politics had swung each way.

He nodded as the avatar ran through the daily headlines: what was happening in the UK--the Royal Family in England was having yet another break up, right on schedule--the impending collapse of the European Union, and the latest in celebrity gossip and news.

He finished at the toilet and stepped to the sink as the toilet automatically closed its lid and flushed.

Some stars and celebrities were making speeches concerning the latest tempest in a teapot. Hollywood stars never stopped being woke and lecturing people.

James rolled his eyes as he washed his hands.

“Fucking Hollywood.”

“You say that every morning.”

“I know. It just pisses me off.”

“Why?”

He paused, while the avatar wasn’t actually a human, it was nice to have some semblance of normality and human contact. So he vented.

“They stand atop their gold plated, ivory towers, lecturing us on the proper way to think, the right way to save the planet, and telling us that we’re supposed to welcome every single refugee from every shithole in the world,” he shrugged as he shook the last of the water off. “Meanwhile, they fly around in private jets, lounge around in multi-million dollar mansions, drink champagne and wear their ten thousand dollar dresses, all while continuing to call every regular Joe who disagrees with them, ignorant scum.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

James gave the holographic avatar a droll look and she laughed. “Fair enough. Maybe it is that bad.”

“Well, there’s not a lot any of us regular people can do about it.”

“True,” she nodded as James went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. And almost as if subtly changing the subject she asked, “Are you aware today is your birthday?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Happy 83rd birthday.”

“Gee thanks,” he poured a little sugar in and stirred. “Still no messages?”

“None, sorry,” she actually looked quite sad at that. “I could reach out to your remaining family members if you wish?”

“No, leave it be.”

“Are you sure? You’ve not contacted any immediate family members in at least 25 years.”

“I know,” James nodded as he began making his breakfast. The avatar turned the wall screen on for him and he idly thanked her as he worked. While she didn’t need thanks, it was nice to have what passed for human interaction within the house. He ate while watching the news and then cleaned up.

The active wall screen changed as he went to the kitchen. There was a new scandal over a celebrity that was caught drunk and pantyless by paparazzi while getting out of her car.

He sighed and flicked the channel again. Oh look, Meghan and Harry in their eighties were still causing bullshit, he actually laughed at that one. He was still amazed that the tabloids still ranted about Princess Diana, over 66 years after her death. The Royals might have been irrelevant, otherwise.

He sighed.

“The more things change,” James mused again.

He flicked his hand and the channel changed: business news. The Dow was hot--some bears were warning about it being a bubble (again)--while the FTSE was up and down as per normal, depending on the sectors. He’d been in a few bubbles in his time, the original stock market bubble, the 2008 recession or the ‘big short,’ as the movie had called it, and then the 2022 inflation crises and war with Russia right up to the big second recession in 2030 when Russia jacked up the prices of food and energy in revenge.

Those were definitely interesting times and curiously he often wondered over the years, including during the big Bitcoin and Altcoin boom, what he could’ve done with the benefit of foresight.

Another flick, another channel, oddly he remembered his mother berating his father for constantly surfing channels.

‘Pick a channel and stick with it for god’s sake,’ she had grumbled, he smiled as the President waved as she boarded Air Force One, smiling for the cameras as she stepped precariously up the stairs in heels. Her well-preserved legs were reportedly still insured for over a million dollars.

Emilia, like all the other Presidents before her, was on social media causing a storm over something stupid and inconsequential. Whatever it was that she commented on, presumably someone’s fashion taste, everyone was taking offense to.

James groused. “She’s a fashion model turned businesswoman, for God’s sake! Making comments like that is what she does!”

Still, just like Trump before they had thought that she would look after the working class person and shake things up. Instead, they got a working girl scenario where she wiped the slate clean, only hired women and only hired men to meet specific quotas. It had caused uproar but she had shrugged and said, ‘you saw what men did.’

It was turning into an Animal Farm situation, where the pigs were worse than the humans. He chuckled darkly at that thought. But as usual, the press spent more time protecting her than identifying any faults.

‘Karma’s a bitch, Emilia.’

It was the same with all of the Presidents since Trump; now everyone was all about likes and up-votes--grabbing a small piece of people’s increasingly short attention span. Politicians were never actually interested in fixing the issues at hand. Politics was also becoming more about how much people liked the politician than what they actually stood for or could achieve, it was a slippery slope where the common thread was to let the next man or woman worry about it or blame the migrants.

He rolled his eyes.

The old TV shows like “Black Mirror” and “Orville” weren’t far off the mark, he thought wryly.

“I miss decent TV.”

“Broadcast shows still have decent viewership.” The avatar remarked. ‘The Simpsons’ and ‘Doctor Who’’ are still running.”

“Barely scraping by,” he shrugged. “An animated show and a British sci-fi. Bart has changed voice actors again and is still ten years old and they’re on what, the 25th Doctor? Oh, and she’s black, gay, and has luminous hair.”

The avatar chuckled, “You really are cantankerous today.”

“I’m allowed to, I’ve earned it.”

She nodded, “So what do you want to do today, perhaps you’d like to travel somewhere?”

“Hmm, not a bad idea.”

“I have them every now and then.”

He laughed in response.

“So where to?”

James wasn’t a particularly social person, but he still felt the need to see real people; to look at and handle real things, not just virtual salespeople and products in online stores in the metaverse, no matter how handy it was.

“Are there any flea markets today?”

“Let me check...” She paused, as she searched, before blinking and looking at him, “Yes, there is one nearby: it’s four point five miles away, are you able to walk?”

“No, not in my condition.”

“Should I call a shuttle?” She asked as he got off the seat to go and get changed, he idly waved as he walked off and thanked her.

The shuttles were all driverless cars. After the uprising about wages, the government preferred to eliminate human drivers to cut down on accidents and overheads. The shuttles were positioned in convenient locations and when anyone needed one, it could be activated and then sent to their location.

Receiving notification of his ride’s arrival, he went down to the car; the home system’s AI automatically locked the house behind him as he got into the vehicle. The door opened with a puff of air and he smelled roses, which instantly put him at ease. The inside of the vehicle smelled nice as well and was a complete difference from what cars used to be. For those like James who didn’t drive, he could just sit back in a comfy chair and do whatever. He’d heard and read stories of people having blowjobs, sex parties, and even outright orgies in these things.

Not that he could get it up any more to do that. He chuckled as he sat down in the sofa seat. Opposite was a table with a local interest flyers, he could flip through them if he wanted to, but today he was going to enjoy the scenery. This certainly made going to the shops easier or traveling anywhere he wanted. Not that he actually went and saw anyone these days.

He sighed as he sat, thinking about his 83rd birthday.

What a boring life he had led. Sure he had worked hard since he was 14, but his grades had been meagre at best, terrible at worst and because of that, he had bounced from one dead-end job to another all his life.

He had never made a true mark in the world, never climbed to the top of any of the corporations where he had worked. Instead, he had been a steady cog among the junior plebs—never making that leap to ‘upper management.’ He had put his time in and retired, old, bitter, tired and alone.

In the end he had put his time in and retired, old, bitter, tired, and alone.