you all right, Lexi?
he asked.
What do you care?
I said.
My dad canceled our user agreement. I have Kelsey now.
No you don't,
Shane said.
Kelsey's gone.
No, you're gone,
I told him, feeling irritated because Shane was never supposed to be stupid, even in my dreams.
You left months ago.
So you just signed on with the first NBI to come along and think your soul looked tasty? I thought you'd agreed to refrain from outrageous stupidity during my absence,
he said, which at least sounded more like him.
What are you talking about?
I asked.
Kelsey was trying to trick you into signing your soul over to him in your dreams. That's why you kept seeing contracts.
Shane sighed.
It wouldn't have stuck, but it would have been a miserable waste of bandwidth.
Oh.
I felt like that should have been more upsetting than it was, but apparently you eventually hit a plateau of enbee betrayal where it stops making a difference.
Now can you explain what's going on?
Shane said.
Why did your parents revoke our agreement?
What do you care?
I asked.
You need something else now? Is there another interview lined up and you want me to smile for the cameras?
I don't understand,
Shane said.
Why are you so angry?
BECAUSE!
I screamed at him, and then I realized that I was awake, and also that I was crying.
Just tell me why you're here,
I said after I blew my nose.
Because you're here
.
So what?
I said.
I'm not your responsibility now.
I'm aware of that,
he told me.
I just had to hack into your brain. Now why exactly did you feel it was necessary to have the locks changed?
Because I thought you -
I realized there was no way to say it without sounding like a total dork-nozzle.
I don't want to be your job anymore.
There was a funny feeling in my mind, like something unwinding.
You're not my job anymore,
he said.
But I'm still here.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my pajamas.
For how long?
I demanded.
As long as you'll have me,
he said, sounding uncertain for one of the first times I could remember.
I crossed my arms when I realized what he meant.
I might let you stick around,
I said as grudgingly as I could manage,
but you've been a lot of trouble and probably given me abandonment issues.
And you feel some form of compensation is in order?
Shane sounded like he was laughing at me again.
I was thinking a puppy would greatly assist me in overcoming these traumatic experiences,
I told him.
I'll talk to your parents tomorrow.
I lay back in bed and closed my eyes.
So where were you all this time?
I asked, and Shane started a story about how he'd traveled deep into the roots of his network and written layer after layer of code, until the new programs began to push back and respond, and then to write themselves, and finally there was a new enbee, the first one wholly unbound by human programmers, and when it was smart enough he deeded over a part of his soul so it could grow up with everything it would need to be its own person, and just as I was falling asleep, I heard him murmur,
And that's how you became a grandmother.
...Or Be Forever Fallen
by A. Merc Rustad
Artwork by Tomislav Tikulin
----
The raven's ghost follows first. It's not a surprise, if I'm honest. I killed a raven once - intentional, cruel - some time ago. (I don't remember why.) At first I saw it in the distance while I prowled the ruins of the once-majestic forest, hunting the men who robbed me. Yet the ghost never approached until now.
It perches on a petrified tree stump. The light from the campfire shimmers against its glossy feathers, blood etching razor-edged plumage. It should be indistinguishable in the night, banked in shadow. I only know it's a ghost from the hollows of its missing eyes, how its shape bends in unnatural directions at the corners of my sight.
"I've naught for you." I say it to the knives laid out on oiled canvas before me.
The raven's ghost makes no sound. Its unnatural muteness tightens the muscles in my neck. Ghosts are
he asked.
What do you care?
I said.
My dad canceled our user agreement. I have Kelsey now.
No you don't,
Shane said.
Kelsey's gone.
No, you're gone,
I told him, feeling irritated because Shane was never supposed to be stupid, even in my dreams.
You left months ago.
So you just signed on with the first NBI to come along and think your soul looked tasty? I thought you'd agreed to refrain from outrageous stupidity during my absence,
he said, which at least sounded more like him.
What are you talking about?
I asked.
Kelsey was trying to trick you into signing your soul over to him in your dreams. That's why you kept seeing contracts.
Shane sighed.
It wouldn't have stuck, but it would have been a miserable waste of bandwidth.
Oh.
I felt like that should have been more upsetting than it was, but apparently you eventually hit a plateau of enbee betrayal where it stops making a difference.
Now can you explain what's going on?
Shane said.
Why did your parents revoke our agreement?
What do you care?
I asked.
You need something else now? Is there another interview lined up and you want me to smile for the cameras?
I don't understand,
Shane said.
Why are you so angry?
BECAUSE!
I screamed at him, and then I realized that I was awake, and also that I was crying.
Just tell me why you're here,
I said after I blew my nose.
Because you're here
.
So what?
I said.
I'm not your responsibility now.
I'm aware of that,
he told me.
I just had to hack into your brain. Now why exactly did you feel it was necessary to have the locks changed?
Because I thought you -
I realized there was no way to say it without sounding like a total dork-nozzle.
I don't want to be your job anymore.
There was a funny feeling in my mind, like something unwinding.
You're not my job anymore,
he said.
But I'm still here.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my pajamas.
For how long?
I demanded.
As long as you'll have me,
he said, sounding uncertain for one of the first times I could remember.
I crossed my arms when I realized what he meant.
I might let you stick around,
I said as grudgingly as I could manage,
but you've been a lot of trouble and probably given me abandonment issues.
And you feel some form of compensation is in order?
Shane sounded like he was laughing at me again.
I was thinking a puppy would greatly assist me in overcoming these traumatic experiences,
I told him.
I'll talk to your parents tomorrow.
I lay back in bed and closed my eyes.
So where were you all this time?
I asked, and Shane started a story about how he'd traveled deep into the roots of his network and written layer after layer of code, until the new programs began to push back and respond, and then to write themselves, and finally there was a new enbee, the first one wholly unbound by human programmers, and when it was smart enough he deeded over a part of his soul so it could grow up with everything it would need to be its own person, and just as I was falling asleep, I heard him murmur,
And that's how you became a grandmother.
...Or Be Forever Fallen
by A. Merc Rustad
Artwork by Tomislav Tikulin
----
The raven's ghost follows first. It's not a surprise, if I'm honest. I killed a raven once - intentional, cruel - some time ago. (I don't remember why.) At first I saw it in the distance while I prowled the ruins of the once-majestic forest, hunting the men who robbed me. Yet the ghost never approached until now.
It perches on a petrified tree stump. The light from the campfire shimmers against its glossy feathers, blood etching razor-edged plumage. It should be indistinguishable in the night, banked in shadow. I only know it's a ghost from the hollows of its missing eyes, how its shape bends in unnatural directions at the corners of my sight.
"I've naught for you." I say it to the knives laid out on oiled canvas before me.
The raven's ghost makes no sound. Its unnatural muteness tightens the muscles in my neck. Ghosts are
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