MEMINISSE TE
Chapter 4- Attempero
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Can you give me back
What I left behind?
Just tell me what it takes to go back in time
I wanna stop it
"LST CNTRL" by Eralise
What I left behind?
Just tell me what it takes to go back in time
I wanna stop it
"LST CNTRL" by Eralise
A block. He only lived a block away from Mira's house. Not a long walk. No excuse to not go over there more often. Especially now. And after his abrupt exit from the scene that afternoon, Mira felt the need to check in on him.
Skeet still had his powers. That had to mean something, right?
Mira carried his well-loved skateboard in her arms, which he'd left abandoned on the sidewalk before she'd even had the chance to remind him to grab it. Along the way, she brushed bits of caked dirt and dust from the bottom. She took particular interest in the filth that had worked its way beneath the crusty edges of an Iron Maiden sticker, the oldest of all the band stickers he'd plastered all over the thing. It was the same skateboard he'd had since he was ten, and it had seen a lot of use in the five years since.
Mira constantly found herself amazed at how detailed the people, places, and things in this simulation could be. And somehow, all of it was based on memory. But it couldn't have been her memory. She'd never taken this close a look at Skeet's skateboard until today. The whole thing was so Skeet, and rendered in such specific detail, down to the individual shapes of the scratch marks. This was crafted from his memories, no doubt.
As Mira approached the house, she heard the distinct scream of an electric guitar cutting through the air. She smiled--- Skeet had picked up his hobby again. She spotted a partly-open window on the top floor, where she could just make out an elbow and the hem of a green t-shirt sleeve. She chuckled with an affectionate shake of her head. Always giving the neighbors grief with his love for rock 'n' roll. Mira knew for a fact they hated "that punk kid next door". Skeet didn't care; he'd once told her that whenever they'd knock down his door and force him to stop, he'd just play even louder next time.
And his playing was already quite loud. Mira would have called out to him through the window, but there was no way he'd hear her over that shredding. She strolled up to the front door and knocked.
Skeet's mom opened the door. There was a tired look on her face--- perhaps she'd been expecting an angry neighbor--- but she brightened the moment she saw Mira. "Mira! It's been a while. What brings you?"
"Hey!" Mira held up the skateboard. "Skeet left this behind after our visit today; I was bringing it back."
Skeet's mom squinted at the skateboard, then nodded. "That's his all right. I'll go get him. Good to see you again, by the way!" She smiled and went back inside, letting the door fall mostly shut, save a six-inch gap. Mira peeked through the gap. Skeet's mom hurried to the stairs. "Skeet!" She waited a few seconds--- Skeet hadn't heard her. She marched halfway up the stairs and shouted louder. "Bernard!" Still nothing; he just kept on jamming. Finally, she lost it.
"BERNARD!! WILL YOU QUIT PLAYIN' THAT THING FOR A HOT MINUTE AND GET DOWN HERE?!"
The guitar squeaked to a cold stop. Mira heard a muffled "Ugh... fine," from the open window. Moments later he came trudging down the stairs. "What is it?" he grunted.
"Come say hi to your friend; she was good enough to bring you your skateboard back. Least you can do is come say thank you."
A few seconds later, Skeet pulled the door all the way back open. He gave her a cool smile, but still seemed to be in a dour mood. "Hey, Meerkat. Thanks for bringin' it back." He got a grip on the skateboard, then paused. He puffed a raspy laugh. "Not that I'll need this old thing anymore."
Mira pushed it into his hands. "Keep it anyway. For the memories." He took it from her and tucked it under one arm, then began to close the door. Mira caught it before he got very far. "By the way, you've gotten pretty good with that guitar."
Skeet beamed a genuine smile this time. He ran his hand over the back of his hair. "Aw. I ain't that good," he said. "Compared to the greats, I got a long way to go. I mean, look at somebody like... like Yngwie Malmsteen. That dude is insane!"
Mira was about to respond, but something stopped her. A thought. He's so accurate. How is he so accurate? Mira had enough questions as it was; if only there was some way to communicate to the outside world. Maybe then she'd have an answer.
Skeet waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello? Mira? You there?"
Mira jolted back from her thoughts. "What?"
"You zoned out on me," said Skeet. He leaned into the doorframe, one eyebrow raised. "Did your digital brain glitch out or somethin'?" He set the skateboard against the indoor wall.
"No... just thinking." She took a good, long look at Skeet--- not to scrutinize him this time, but to drink in the sight of him. Here he was--- narrow-faced, tall and solid-built, wearing baggy clothes. And to top it all off, messy golden hair sticking out of the roughed-up beanie he just couldn't part with, even to wash. Mira loved that he was here. Not dead. Yet that somehow felt so... so wrong. Nobody else who'd lost a friend had ever gotten that friend back.
Granted, nobody's friend had ever been a digital clone before. Maybe this was normal for a digital life... not that the entire concept of "digital life" was normal by any stretch of the imagination.
"About?" Skeet's tone was impatient... yet curious. He stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.
"About... all this." Mira paced away and stood facing the street, arms folded. "It's all so... surreal."
"So the world is digital," said Skeet. He ambled to her side, hands shoved into his pockets. "And we're digital. I got it." He sat down on the porch steps. "And I'm not the first digital Skeet." He folded his arms to his knees and rested his chin in them, a tight frown on his face. Mira thought he looked tired, and a bit miserable.
Mira sat down beside her friend. "Maybe not, but... you're pretty cool too." She smiled.
Skeet only seemed to frown deeper. "Yeeaah. 'Pretty cool too'. Don't I feel special."
Mira's smile dropped. Ouch... sarcasm. "Did... I do something to upset you?" she asked.
Skeet sighed. His features softened, but there was still frustration written all over his face. "Not you, specifically. It's just that earlier today, I felt like I was the subject of some sorta lab experiment. And you've been tellin' me I'm not the real Skeet. Not only that, but I'm a... a copy or a reboot. There's the real me out there somewhere, and there's another digital me out there, dead. I'm just the backup."
The backup. Something about that statement stabbed Mira right in the gut. It felt personal, somehow.
"Skeet, no. Don't look at it that way."
"How else am I supposed to look at it?" Skeet held out his hands in a question.
Mira sighed. How could she put this? She didn't want to risk further offending Skeet; she'd never seen him this stressed out before. And her reaction to that fact was visceral. "Skeet... you are what you are. Neither of us can change that. And..." She set her hand on his shoulder. "No matter how many of you existed before, you are Skeet. You are not a third-rate person. Especially not to me." She looked into his eyes as a guilty hand clutched her heart. A tear threatened to burst from her eye, but she held it back. Her tone softened--- dropped to a near whisper. "You're the only Skeet I've got."
Skeet half-smiled. But it was a good half-smile, like what she'd said had genuinely touched him. Mira half-smiled back.
"Well... I'll tell ya one thing I've got that real-world Skeet doesn't." He smirked. "I can play the guitar waaay faster than he can." He formed an air guitar and supersped his fingers over the invisible strings, a corny grin on his face.
Mira laughed and gave him a playful shove. "You'll be playing with the best of 'em in no time, I'm sure." A warmth rose up and filled her chest. She'd forgotten how naturally they vibed with one another. Why didn't she hang out with him more often?
The door opened. Skeet's mom stepped out and stood in the doorway. "Skeet? It's time for dinner."
"In a minute," said Skeet. "I'm talkin' to Mira about somethin'."
Skeet's mom folded her arms. "Hmm. Mira, since you're here and you two are having such a great conversation, why don't you come in and have dinner with us?" She smiled invitingly. "I just happened to be making a vegetarian dish."
Mira held up her hand and started to get up, smiling apologetically. "Oh. Uh, thanks, Mrs. Bronson, but... no thanks. I've probably got dinner waiting for me at home."
"It's veggie lasagna."
Veggie lasagna? That was always her favorite as a kid! Mira needed no further convincing. "Well... you drive a hard bargain. OK. But I'll have to call home and let my parents know."
"You're stayin'?" Skeet had risen to his feet and now smiled down at her, surprised. "You haven't stayed and had dinner with us since, like... fifth grade!"
He was right! How had it been that long? "Sure. I mean... I'm here, I'm having a good conversation with you, and your mom made veggie lasagna." And a little more time with Skeet was all Mira really wanted right now. Besides--- he seemed like he could use the company. "What's not to stay for?"
Skeet laughed as the two teens disappeared inside the house. "I can't think of anything."
Skeet still had his powers. That had to mean something, right?
Mira carried his well-loved skateboard in her arms, which he'd left abandoned on the sidewalk before she'd even had the chance to remind him to grab it. Along the way, she brushed bits of caked dirt and dust from the bottom. She took particular interest in the filth that had worked its way beneath the crusty edges of an Iron Maiden sticker, the oldest of all the band stickers he'd plastered all over the thing. It was the same skateboard he'd had since he was ten, and it had seen a lot of use in the five years since.
Mira constantly found herself amazed at how detailed the people, places, and things in this simulation could be. And somehow, all of it was based on memory. But it couldn't have been her memory. She'd never taken this close a look at Skeet's skateboard until today. The whole thing was so Skeet, and rendered in such specific detail, down to the individual shapes of the scratch marks. This was crafted from his memories, no doubt.
As Mira approached the house, she heard the distinct scream of an electric guitar cutting through the air. She smiled--- Skeet had picked up his hobby again. She spotted a partly-open window on the top floor, where she could just make out an elbow and the hem of a green t-shirt sleeve. She chuckled with an affectionate shake of her head. Always giving the neighbors grief with his love for rock 'n' roll. Mira knew for a fact they hated "that punk kid next door". Skeet didn't care; he'd once told her that whenever they'd knock down his door and force him to stop, he'd just play even louder next time.
And his playing was already quite loud. Mira would have called out to him through the window, but there was no way he'd hear her over that shredding. She strolled up to the front door and knocked.
Skeet's mom opened the door. There was a tired look on her face--- perhaps she'd been expecting an angry neighbor--- but she brightened the moment she saw Mira. "Mira! It's been a while. What brings you?"
"Hey!" Mira held up the skateboard. "Skeet left this behind after our visit today; I was bringing it back."
Skeet's mom squinted at the skateboard, then nodded. "That's his all right. I'll go get him. Good to see you again, by the way!" She smiled and went back inside, letting the door fall mostly shut, save a six-inch gap. Mira peeked through the gap. Skeet's mom hurried to the stairs. "Skeet!" She waited a few seconds--- Skeet hadn't heard her. She marched halfway up the stairs and shouted louder. "Bernard!" Still nothing; he just kept on jamming. Finally, she lost it.
"BERNARD!! WILL YOU QUIT PLAYIN' THAT THING FOR A HOT MINUTE AND GET DOWN HERE?!"
The guitar squeaked to a cold stop. Mira heard a muffled "Ugh... fine," from the open window. Moments later he came trudging down the stairs. "What is it?" he grunted.
"Come say hi to your friend; she was good enough to bring you your skateboard back. Least you can do is come say thank you."
A few seconds later, Skeet pulled the door all the way back open. He gave her a cool smile, but still seemed to be in a dour mood. "Hey, Meerkat. Thanks for bringin' it back." He got a grip on the skateboard, then paused. He puffed a raspy laugh. "Not that I'll need this old thing anymore."
Mira pushed it into his hands. "Keep it anyway. For the memories." He took it from her and tucked it under one arm, then began to close the door. Mira caught it before he got very far. "By the way, you've gotten pretty good with that guitar."
Skeet beamed a genuine smile this time. He ran his hand over the back of his hair. "Aw. I ain't that good," he said. "Compared to the greats, I got a long way to go. I mean, look at somebody like... like Yngwie Malmsteen. That dude is insane!"
Mira was about to respond, but something stopped her. A thought. He's so accurate. How is he so accurate? Mira had enough questions as it was; if only there was some way to communicate to the outside world. Maybe then she'd have an answer.
Skeet waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello? Mira? You there?"
Mira jolted back from her thoughts. "What?"
"You zoned out on me," said Skeet. He leaned into the doorframe, one eyebrow raised. "Did your digital brain glitch out or somethin'?" He set the skateboard against the indoor wall.
"No... just thinking." She took a good, long look at Skeet--- not to scrutinize him this time, but to drink in the sight of him. Here he was--- narrow-faced, tall and solid-built, wearing baggy clothes. And to top it all off, messy golden hair sticking out of the roughed-up beanie he just couldn't part with, even to wash. Mira loved that he was here. Not dead. Yet that somehow felt so... so wrong. Nobody else who'd lost a friend had ever gotten that friend back.
Granted, nobody's friend had ever been a digital clone before. Maybe this was normal for a digital life... not that the entire concept of "digital life" was normal by any stretch of the imagination.
"About?" Skeet's tone was impatient... yet curious. He stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.
"About... all this." Mira paced away and stood facing the street, arms folded. "It's all so... surreal."
"So the world is digital," said Skeet. He ambled to her side, hands shoved into his pockets. "And we're digital. I got it." He sat down on the porch steps. "And I'm not the first digital Skeet." He folded his arms to his knees and rested his chin in them, a tight frown on his face. Mira thought he looked tired, and a bit miserable.
Mira sat down beside her friend. "Maybe not, but... you're pretty cool too." She smiled.
Skeet only seemed to frown deeper. "Yeeaah. 'Pretty cool too'. Don't I feel special."
Mira's smile dropped. Ouch... sarcasm. "Did... I do something to upset you?" she asked.
Skeet sighed. His features softened, but there was still frustration written all over his face. "Not you, specifically. It's just that earlier today, I felt like I was the subject of some sorta lab experiment. And you've been tellin' me I'm not the real Skeet. Not only that, but I'm a... a copy or a reboot. There's the real me out there somewhere, and there's another digital me out there, dead. I'm just the backup."
The backup. Something about that statement stabbed Mira right in the gut. It felt personal, somehow.
"Skeet, no. Don't look at it that way."
"How else am I supposed to look at it?" Skeet held out his hands in a question.
Mira sighed. How could she put this? She didn't want to risk further offending Skeet; she'd never seen him this stressed out before. And her reaction to that fact was visceral. "Skeet... you are what you are. Neither of us can change that. And..." She set her hand on his shoulder. "No matter how many of you existed before, you are Skeet. You are not a third-rate person. Especially not to me." She looked into his eyes as a guilty hand clutched her heart. A tear threatened to burst from her eye, but she held it back. Her tone softened--- dropped to a near whisper. "You're the only Skeet I've got."
Skeet half-smiled. But it was a good half-smile, like what she'd said had genuinely touched him. Mira half-smiled back.
"Well... I'll tell ya one thing I've got that real-world Skeet doesn't." He smirked. "I can play the guitar waaay faster than he can." He formed an air guitar and supersped his fingers over the invisible strings, a corny grin on his face.
Mira laughed and gave him a playful shove. "You'll be playing with the best of 'em in no time, I'm sure." A warmth rose up and filled her chest. She'd forgotten how naturally they vibed with one another. Why didn't she hang out with him more often?
The door opened. Skeet's mom stepped out and stood in the doorway. "Skeet? It's time for dinner."
"In a minute," said Skeet. "I'm talkin' to Mira about somethin'."
Skeet's mom folded her arms. "Hmm. Mira, since you're here and you two are having such a great conversation, why don't you come in and have dinner with us?" She smiled invitingly. "I just happened to be making a vegetarian dish."
Mira held up her hand and started to get up, smiling apologetically. "Oh. Uh, thanks, Mrs. Bronson, but... no thanks. I've probably got dinner waiting for me at home."
"It's veggie lasagna."
Veggie lasagna? That was always her favorite as a kid! Mira needed no further convincing. "Well... you drive a hard bargain. OK. But I'll have to call home and let my parents know."
"You're stayin'?" Skeet had risen to his feet and now smiled down at her, surprised. "You haven't stayed and had dinner with us since, like... fifth grade!"
He was right! How had it been that long? "Sure. I mean... I'm here, I'm having a good conversation with you, and your mom made veggie lasagna." And a little more time with Skeet was all Mira really wanted right now. Besides--- he seemed like he could use the company. "What's not to stay for?"
Skeet laughed as the two teens disappeared inside the house. "I can't think of anything."