Fabricated

MEGANJACOBS

PROLOGUE

How,exactly,doesonebeginastory?
Itsafairlysimplequestion.Butasitstands,Imonlydrawingblanks.
The near-universal answer is as follows: You start with a hook, something that
draws thereader in.That answer, as simple-worded as it may be, doesnt help much.A
hook could be any number ofthingsit could involve throwingthe reader right into the
story,leavingthemtograpplearounduntiltheyfindwheretheyvebeenplaced.Itcould
takeformofastatementthatissooutlandishthatthereadercandonothingexceptread
on.Or,perhapsitcouldbearhetoricalquestionthatinitsbeing,answersitself.
Whostosayforsure,really?
The beginning isnt even the most difficult part in constructing a story, though.
There are always more questions. The most important one is as seemingly
uncomplicatedasthefirst:Whatcomesnext?
Thisiswhereevenmorepossibilitiesareopenedup.However,regardlessofwhat
directionistaken,moststoriesarethesameatthecore;aformatisfollowed.Thereisa
heroorheroine.Aproblemarises,andtheymustovercomeit.Atwhatcostthisproblem
isovercometendstovary.But,inmyopinion,agreatcostiswhatmakesagreatstory.
Of course, a good story does not solely lay in the characters struggles. A certain
leveloforiginalityisrequired,whetherthatoriginalityisachievedbybreakingawayfrom
theaboveoutline,orperhapsbydoingsomethingsoradicalwithinthatformat,or even
bybecomingsoentwinedwithitselfthattheformatisnolongerdistinguishable.
Or, it could be something else. It depends on the story, and there are no
guidelinesforbreakingawayfromtheguidelines.Thatwouldberathersilly.


IsupposeIshouldgettothepoint.Imnot actuallyheretodiscussthestructure
of fictional tales, unfortunately. Nor to discuss anything to do with fictional tales.
Thankfully,thestoryImheretodiscusshasalreadybeenwritten.
Yes,helloreader.Itsme,thenarrator.Nicetomeetyou.
Now,pleasedonotletmynarrationleadyoutoworryaboutapotentiallackofa
happyending,becauseasIsaid,theendhaslongsincepassed.Ididnotfullyauthorthis
story,thecharactersdid.Theywrotethestory,inametaphoricalsense.NowImwriting
theirstory,inaliteralsense.Ifyouwishtoblameanyoneuponreachingthisstorysend,
Imnottheonlyonetoconsider.
The main metaphorical writer of our particular story is a sixteen year old girl by
the name of Evelynn Grace. Its a very beautiful name, if you ask me. Just be sure to
refrainfromaskingher.Shellthrowquitethefit.
However,regardlessofhowshefeelsaboutpeoplecallinghernamebeautiful,itis
still the name she calls herself by. Her feelings do not change that fact, nor do her
feelingschangewhatherfutureholds.
No, regardless of her feelings on the matter, soon Evelynn will stand in front of
herneighborsyard.Inthisyard,therewillbeadoghousewithavintagemailboxsticking
outthetopofit,andnothingshewantsorfeelswillpreventthisfromhappening.
But,theresnotmuchthatanyonecandoaboutthat.

CHAPTER1

LiamWalkerisinnowayaresponsibleperson,andIwillbethefirsttotellyouthat.
Some of the facts about him may mislead you into thinking otherwise, but I can
assure you that they are indeed misleading. For example, Liam, a year older than our
protagonist, has known his career path since he began his current life. But, he did not
choosehiscareer.Thechoicewasmadeforhim.
His lifetime job, chosen based on his personality and projected physical
capabilities,involves fixing glitches. It isa job that has come to bedubbed as fixer. But
thisisnotentirelyspecific,asafixercouldrefertooneoftwojobs.Amoreaccurateterm
forhisspecificjobwouldbesomethingakintoterminator.However,forsomereason,no
one calls it that. It could be because everyone has a clear picture of what they expect a
terminatormightlooklike,andthatimagemayormaynotberelatedtocyborgs.Itcould
alsobebecauseitsoundsabitstupid.
LiamWalker,aboyconcernedwithlittleotherthanhimself,looksasifheistrying
to grow into the great something that hes meant to be, but cant quite get there. The
stubbleoffacialhairthathehasstillgrowsinpatches,buthekeepsitanyway.Hismouth
is perpetually turned upwards at one side. His pupils are too large for his small, closely
seteyes,solargethatthereisonlyasmallringofbluesurroundingthem.Hiseyebrows,
lowonhisforehead,givehimalookofconfidenceanddetermination,buthismessylight
hair gives him a childish look. He is well built, but short. He seems like he has the
potentialtolookimposing,butjustdoesnt.
And,backtomypreviousstatement,Liamisirresponsible.Thismanifestsitselfin
manyways,whichImsurewellgettolater.Yetitdoesnotmanifestitselfinthetimehe
choosestowakeupinthemornings.Liamdemonstrateshiscontroloverthatparticular


aspectofhislifebyhittinghisbestfriendandroommateovertheheadwithapillowat
exactlyfiveinthemorning.
Wakeup,beautiful,hesays.Itstimetogo.
Hisvictimgroans,butLiamcontinueshisassault.Isaac.Wakeup.
Mmphnng.
Ididntgetawordofthat.
You do this every damn day, Isaac grumbles, rolling over in an effort to shield
himself.
Andyoudothiseveryday!Liamretorts,tuckingthepillowunderhisarm.Up,
comeon!Breakfastissoon.
Ugh,fine.Justgivemefiveminutes,please.
Liamcontemplates,andthensays,Fine.Fiveminutes.
Four minutes and forty-eight seconds later, Liam is hitting Isaac over the head
withapillow.

Ateightthirtyonthedot,IsaacandLiamgetbriefedbytheoverseeingadvisoroftheir
sector of fixers, as they have been doing for two years now. Their advisor, Mr. Ian
Jackson, slowly paces from one end of the room to the other as he talks. Isaac listens
attentively, though Liam does not. And because theyve been doing this for two years,
the man in the front of the room is aware of Liams inattentiveness. He continues on
anyways.
Now,asyouhave allprobablynoticed,theresbeenaspikeinglitchesallacross
theboard.Doyouknowwhatthismeans?
He asks his question with a face and a voice that rings with how long hes been
doingthisjob.Hestopspacingandcrosseshisarmsbeforecontinuing.
It means we all got to work. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothings changed,
kids. He scans the room,but doesnt seek eye contact.That would be too personal for
thissetting.Well,whatreyallwaitingfor?heasks.Gettowork.
Thenewestsetoffixersgetsupquickly,stumblingovereachothertorushoutof
the room. They arent used to him yet. Next, the rest get up and stretch, talking with
theirrespectivepartnersastheyexit.Isaacgetsup,lettingoutayawnwhilehewaitsfor


Liam to get up as well. When Liam doesnt do so, Isaac sighs impatiently before
speaking.
Why is it, Isaac starts, looking down to glare at his friend, who in turn is
examiningacallousonhishand,ThatImnotallowedtosleepuntilareasonabletime,
butyoucantevengetoutofaseatinlessthantenminutes?
Calm down, Liam says, ignoring Isaacs already existing state of calm. Liam
removeshisgazefromhishandandmotionstoJackson.IjustwanttoaskCaptainJack
aquickquestion.
Isaac hums, but makes no move to leave. Neither does Liam. Liam sighs and
throwshishandsupintheair.Yougoonahead,hesays.
Whatever, Isaac says with a wave of his hand. He makes his way towards the
door,andJacksonspeakstohimonhiswayout.
Payce,hegreetswithanodofhishead.Whyarentyoubringingyourpartner
withyou?Finallysickofem?
No,notyet,Isaacsays,anamusedhuffofbreathescapingwiththewords.He
needstoaskyouaquestion,apparently.
Isee,Jacksonsays.Well,goodluckoutthere.
Thankyou,sir.
Jackson turns his head to face Liam at his spot in the center of the room. When
Jackson doesnt make any further acknowledgment of his presence, Liam jumps out of
hisseatandstrollsovertohim.
Whatdoyouwant,kid?Jacksonasks.
Lots of things, Liam says, sporting a grin. Jackson gives him a look that is
nothing short of unimpressed. When it becomes clear that Jackson is not going to say
anything,Liamsighsandspeaksupagain.Whatsgoingonwiththeglitches?
Jacksonseyeswidenbriefly,beforeheschoolshisfeaturesintohisusualgrumpy
look.
What dya mean? he asks, voice gruff. He scratches at his beard. Theres just
morethanusual.Itsnotlikeithasnthappenedbefore.
You know its never been this bad, Liam says, already impatient with the
conversation.Then,headdsmoreurgently,Andoneofourssawthem.Theyneversee
them!


Jacksonsfaceblanks.Theywhatnow?
They noticed their glitches! Liam says, gesturing wildly. Isaacs pretty sure
shesseenthesourcetoo.Whenhasthateverhappenedbefore?
Jacksons eyes widen once more, and this time he doesnt bother in trying to
adjusthisreaction.WhatsherID?heasks,voicelowandquick.
Liamattemptstonegotiate.Tellmewhatsgoingon.
WhatstheID?Jacksonrepeats,unwavering.
Liamtriesagain.Whatsgoingon?
Liam, Jackson says, tone warning. When he doesnt get a reply, Jackson nearly
growls.TellmetheID.
Liam gives up, shoulders slumping. Evelynn Grace, he says, trailing off with a
sighwhenhecompletesthename.
And the number? Jackson demands. He doesnt give Liam a proper chance to
reply,poundingonceonthewallbesidethem.Thenumber,Liam.
Iwastryingtoremember!Liamexclaims,holdinghishandsupdefensively.And
then, before Jackson can yell at him again, Its 000024...uh, he pauses, 92...831. I
think.MaybecheckwithIsaac.
Jacksonstalksoutthedoor,andLiamcallsafterhim.
Hey!heyells,Whereareyougoing?
Jacksondoesntgivehimanswer.

CHAPTER2

Evelynnsagesuggeststhatsheisahighschoolstudent,andthisisentirelyaccurate.She
attendsalovelyschoolinMichigan,wherealltheschoolsbudgetgoestoupgradingthe
teacherscomputers.Thespecificlocationofthisschoolisnotrelevanttothestory.You
may think it relevant, and you may think some details I choose to tell you irrelevant. If
that ever be the case, the only things that are irrelevant are your thoughts. But, if you
mustknow,theschooliscalledMontgomeryHighSchool.Imsureyouareblownaway
bythisuniqueandwhollygenuinename.
EvelynnthinkslivinginMichiganisasexcitingasitssounds,whichistosay,not
at all. If asked, she would claim that she does not like anything or anyone. But, as
someone in my position, I have something approaching omniscience regarding Evelynn
and her life. It is with this knowledge that I can inform you that Evelynn does indeed
enjoycertainthings,suchas,butnotlimitedto:complainingaboutpeople,browsingthe
internet, complaining about things she finds on the internet, arguing, eating unhealthy
foods,andhistoricalfiction.
Evelynn will not be winning a weightlifting competition any time soon, and her
appearancereflectsthis.Standingtallatfivefoottwo,themostimposingthingabouther
isthefacethatshechoosestowear.Evenifthecornersofhermouthwerentconstantly
turneddownwards,youstillwouldnevergettheimpressionofafriendlyface.Hersharp
features are to blame for this, and they serve well to stand out. Her eyes, burning and
accusatory, have beena strikingly bright green her entire lifeup tothispoint.With the
knowledgethateyesdonotchangecolor,wecanprobablyinferthattheystillaregreen.
Herhaircolorcouldbedescribedasbeingsomethinginbetweenbrownandred,without
spending too much time talking about it. The fact that it always manages to look wild,


despitebeingstraight,isnotsomethingthatshecaresaboutintheslightest.Asshesays,
quiteregularlymightIadd,shedoesnotexisttoimpressanyone.
Accordingtoher,thepermanentlookofirritationonherfaceisperfectlyjustified,
andtheentiretyofthehumanraceisatfault.Peoplesuckisherpersonalmotto,andshe
makes it knownto anyone listening. Coincidentally, the ideathat peopleonly cause her
grief happens to be directly related to Evelynns current hindered mental state and
situation.Notsocoincidentally,sheiscurrentlydwellingonherdistasteforpeople.
But here I am, diverging from my monologue of questionable importance to
launch into a different monologue of even greater questionable importance; that of the
habitsofmoodyandentitledadolescents.Letsgetbackontrack,shallwe?
Incaseyouforgot,ourcurrenttrackisattheaforementionedschoolthatEvelynn
attends.Theaestheticsofthisschoolarenotimportant,becausethesettingofthisstory,
or at least this part of it, is merely a fabrication. It is the characters that are, however
debatably,real.
Icouldgoonaboutwhatisanalmostabnormallyaverageinstitutionofeducation
with school colors of blue and gold. I could spend paragraphs describing the lockers
lining both the first and second story halls, and how they still fall short of providing
enoughstoragespaceforeverysingleoneofthetwopointthreethousandstudentsthat
attend.Icouldgointodetailabouteveryteacherinthemathdepartment,andthehalfof
themthatcouldstilllearnathingortwoaboutteaching.ButIwont,becausethereisa
storytotellhere,andthankfully,itdoesntrevolvearoundthemathdepartment.
Anyways,asitsohappens,itisinthisparticularschoolonthisparticularTuesday
morningthatthepreviouslymentionedpredicamentofEvelynnstakesplace.Icouldtell
youdirectlywhatexactlyEvelynnhasgottenherselfinto,butyoumighthavefiguredout
bynowthatIamnotaverydirectorkindperson.Instead,Iamgoingtotellyoualittle
bitaboutEvelynnsclosestfriend,Gabriel.
GabrielEvansis,asoftwoweeksago,seventeenyearsofage.Heisrathertolerant
in comparison to his friend Evelynn. Hell actually admit to enjoying the presence of
others,becausebeingrudeisntactuallyascoolasEvelynnthinksittobe.Gabrieldoes
well enough in school to keep his parents from pestering him. In his case, this means
passing. He spends most of his free time playing video games with his friends. His


criteriaforthesevideogames,whetherheisawareofitornot,isthattheymustcontain
atleastonedragon.
Gabrieldoeshisbesttofloatthroughhighschool.Andhesucceeds,forthemost
part.Initially,thisdidnotworkoutsowell,consideringhewasnearlysixfeettallwhen
coming in as a freshman. He quickly became known as that tall kid with the Jewfro.
Gabriels not one to get angry at muchif at anythingand when his peers realized that
they were not going to get a rise out of him, it became less of an attempted insult and
moreofanidentifier.Andthus,soonGabrielwasfulfillinghiswishtogounnoticed.
GabrielbecamefriendswithEvelynnbackwhentheybothhadnofriends, which
waswhentheybothmovedintownatthesametime.Sixthgradewasunderway,avery
precariousyearforyoungchildren.Theymadefriendswitheachother,whichwasquite
thefeatforEvelynn,evenatthetime.
ItdidnottakelongforGabrieltomake additionalfriends,butEvelynnhadabit
moretrouble.Aspreviouslymentioned,GabrielisEvelynnsclosestfriend.Thisdoesnot
mean, however, that they are close friends. There was a time when they were, but
Evelynns superiority complex and constant negativity lost its charm on Gabriel
eventually. Their strong friendship slowly dissipated into something closer to an
acquaintanceship.Despitethis,GabrielstillholdsuptheburdenoflisteningtoEvelynns
tirades.Occasionallyhemanagestofindthemamusing,thoughonlyifhetries.But,this
ismainlybecauseheonlyhastolistentohercomplainingonschooldays.
Unfortunately for Gabriel, it is a school day. Doubly unfortunately, as Gabriel
makes his way over to his locker, he sees that Evelynn is leaning against it. She looks
around nervously, and by the time he gets there, she is already talking too fast to be
understood. Gabriel is only able to make out two things: the name of a mutual friend,
Victor,andsomethingaboutdoghouses.
Whoa, Gabriel says,flinching when her frantically wavingarms come too close
forcomfort.Canyouletmegettomylocker?
Evelynntakesastepback,butherpanickeddemeanorturnsintomisguidedanger
in record time, Why didnt you answer your phone last night? By the end of the
sentence, her voice has risen to a shout, and she barely manages to resist the urge to
physicallyshakeherfriend.Ievencalledyou!Icouldhavebeendyingforallyouknow!


Studentswalkingpastshootherweirdlooks,andsheglaresbackatthefew shenotices.
Gabrielinthemeantimeshuffleshischemistrybookfromhislockertohisbag.
Well,youarentdead,Gabrielsaysslowly,shuttinghislockerbeforeturningto
lookather.SoIthinkwesolvedthatmystery.KnowingEvelynnstendencytobeeasily
offended,hecontinuesonbeforeshecancutin,AndIhaventhadaphoneformonths.
Ifyoutriedtextingmeonceinawhile,youdknowthat.
Insteadofapologizing,shejuststaresathim.
What? Gabriel asks, uncertain. She still doesnt reply, so he ducks his head to
lookintohereyes.Hello?
Sheletsoutarushofair,seeminglyrelieved.Ithoughtyourfacewasgoingtoget
stucklikethat,shesays.
Nowitshisturntostareblankly.
Gabriel is not sure when, exactly, Evelynn lost her marbles, but he thinks it was
fairly recently. Although he is correct in the time frame of her change in behavior, he
doesntrealizethathisfriendhasmoreofamindthanhedoes.
Evelynn, instead of explaining her fit, chooses to dart her eyes to something on
thewallbehindGabriel.Sighing,heturnsaroundonceagain.Heseesonlyanintercom
highuponthedirtywall,and,hopefullytonoonessurprise,lockers.
ThisbehaviorofEvelynnshasbeengoingonforweeksnow,andGabrielsusual
hightoleranceforbullshitisstartingtowearthin.HefacesEvelynn,andthistimeheis
theonetoraisehisvoice.
Whatareyoulookingat?hedemands.Hisfaceheatsupwhenhenoticesafew
peopledownthehallwayglancingathim,andhedipshisheaddownslightly.
Dontyouhearthat?sheasksinarush.Sheremoveshereyesfromthewallto
lookatGabrielinconfusion.
Lynn, Gabriel starts, squeezing his eyes shut, Do you need to talk to
someone? He says someone instead of me, because he would rather Evelynn take her
problemselsewhere.
WhenEvelynnspeaksagain,hervoiceisloudandstrainingtobeheard,almostas
ifshehasheadphoneson.Icanthearyou!
Gabrielstartstoformulatearesponse,somethingalongthelinesofaninquiryas
towhatkindofdrugsEvelynnison.Butbeforehecanspeak,sheraisesherhandstoher


ears and begins yelling in earnest, repeatedly asking about a noise that only she hears.
Thefewstudentsinthehallwayhavestoppedtalkingtoeachotheraltogetherinfavorof
staring at Evelynn. Gabriel stands there with his mouth slightly open, too shocked and
too embarrassed to try and do anything. As Evelynns shouting evolves into something
closer to full-out screaming, she takes off down the hallway, nearly knocking over the
agitatedgray-hairedteacherthatcametoinvestigate.
Gabriel is still gaping like he belongs in a dentist lobby aquarium by the time
Evelynnmakesitoutthefrontdoors.

***
Nogreatdistanceaway,coincidingwithbothLiamsandEvelynnspast,yetseeminglyat
radically different times, Liam is standing behind a chair in which Isaac is seated in.
They are in a room that can barely be called so, as its much closer to a hall in its size.
Therearecolumnsandrowsofcomputers,andtheorganizationissoexactthattheonly
thingsmissingarethewallsseparatingeachstationintoitsowncubicle.
People sit in chairs in front of their own computers, completely unconscious.
Those people have electrodes attached to their heads, and their partner works beside
themdutifully.
Nonetheless, the room buzzes with conversation. But for the moment, Liam and
Isaac are silent.They are watching a monitor, or rather, who is onthe monitor. In case
youhaventguessed,itsEvelynn.Evelynnisonthemonitor.
Isupposethatnowwouldbeasgoodatimeasanytoexplainsomethings.

Alongtimeagoinagalaxyfar,faraway,whichistosay,ourgalaxy,theworldwasabout
toend.
Yes, the impending apocalypse was truly remarkable. That is, the impending
apocalypse was just about as remarkable as you would consider your impending
apocalypse,becauseinthiscasetheyareessentiallythesamething.
Impending apocalypse, you may ask? What impending apocalypse? Well, since
youre asking, you arent very observant. I can answer your nonexistent question by
askinganotherquestioninreturn:Whatisthreateningtheendofyourtimes?


Here,IcanevenanswerthequestionforyouintheroundaboutwaythatItendto
do.Takeyourpickofsources.Theresglobalwarmingandeverythingassociatedwithit,
other natural disasters, nuclear weapons, threats of viruses being used in biological
warfare,etcetera.Theissueswereincrediblyvaried,butwhenitcamedowntoit,most
oftheseissueswereissuesinthefirstplacebecauseofapopulationthatwastoolargeto
handle.
These issues may all sound familiar to you, because they are all issues that you
face,orhavethepossibilityoffacing.Theamusingthingis,despitethattheseproblems
growsignificantlyinthattime,hundredsofyearswillpassbeforeanythingisdoneabout
them,bywhichthenyouwillbedeadandunabletoseethesolution.
Butthenagain,maybeamusingisnttherightword.
Regardless, the combined efforts of the governments around the globe lead to
something known as the Alternate Reality Movement. Artificial Realities would have
been a more accurate title, but in order to convince the majority of the worlds
population to plug their brains into a computer, they needed a name that sounded
somewhatpleasant.AfewgroupstriedtodubitARM,butitdidntreallycatchon.
TheMovementwasasolve-allideathat,whiledoable,seemedalotlessintelligent
than dealing with each problem individually. But, it was the easy solution, and when
international politics are involved, matters involving the avoidance of an apocalypse
shouldbeassimpleastheycanpossiblybe.
Bythetimethismovementtookplace,asinglelanguagewasinuse,forthemost
part. Thousands of years of technological influence and cultural blending, forced or
otherwise,tendstoblurlines.Itwasnotlonguntiltheinfluenceofprominentlanguages
mixed and overpowered the rest. Slight differences in dialect and appearance still
remainedofcourse,althoughsignsofmonoethnicitywereemerging.
The Alternate Reality Movement itself was not something that was easily
advertised. At its base, it essentially involved plugging an individuals brain into a
computer, archiving all of their experiences and knowledge to be accessed and used by
everyone else. Their sense of self would remain, but their experiences would change to
reflectwhattheirbrainpulledfromtheNetwork.


Convincing billions to upload their life onto a community network would have
beennearlyimpossible,ifitdidnotinvolvetwothingsthatmanycrave:immortalityand
aworldtailoredtothem.
Thats right, folks. Let the government mess with your brain and you can live
forever! Theyll freeze your body too, so if you ever needto wake up, you can, piece of
cake.Thebestpart?Youcandowhateveryourbraindecidesitwantstodo.Wanttofly?
No problem! Just make sure you get your brain to let you do that. Sounds believable,
doesntit?
Obviously, there werea few skeptics.However, when all their friends and family
decided to take the chance and they were left behind, they changed their mind. Then
there were the people whose religious beliefs spoke that it was wrong somehow, which
was curious in itself. But even religious government officials were on board, and most
wereeventuallypersuaded.
As for the others, they were volunteering themselves up for maintenance by
stayingconscious.
Ofthosewhodidnotfacethesameobstaclesthathaddraggedsomanyonboard,
most were willing to change their mind when they realized what staying behind would
entail. If they were to stay behind, they would be working on maintaining the Network
fortherestoftheircurrentlives.Funnywhatmotivatespeopletotrynewthings.
Theonlypeopleleftconsciousontheearthwerecertaingovernmentworkersand
afewverystubbornsouls,allofthemvolunteers.Theywerelefttomakesurethatallof
thefabrications,asthealternaterealitiescametobecalled,wererunningsmoothly.
Thepopulationwaskeptlowinthehundredthousandstopreventtheapocalypse
theywereattemptingtoavoidinthefirstplace.Occasionally,oneoftheirownwouldgo
downunder to be submersed in their ownfabrication, this usuallyoccurringwhen they
wereontheirdeathbed.Butsomethinglikethatwassorarethatitwasmadeintoahuge
event,almostlikedeathitself.Therewasneverreallyanexcessofpeopleaftertheinitial
Movement;infact,ifanything,theyexperienceashortageofpeoplefromtimetotime,
but even that was rare. However whenever it was expected to occur, they just woke up
groups of people who signed themselves up as future volunteers. Usually those people
were former soldiers, police officers, or anyone that felt that they have a duty to the
people.Inthecaseofchildren,theirparentssignedthemoff,withorwithoutconsent.


What are these volunteers even for, you ask? Thank you for asking so many
questionsbytheway,yourereallyhelpingmeouthere.
There are, of course, people necessary for basic upkeep. There are those in
charge, those overseeing power usages, those feeding and caring for everyone else. But
thereareotherjobs,too,andtheyaremuchmorespecifictothesituation.
From the start, there were bugs in the system. Glitches. They were never things
that were noticed by the person that hosted the glitch, even though an outsider would
spotthemrightaway.Andalways,withoutfail,thesourceoftheseglitchestookformofa
person, which is not something anyone thought to figure out the reason behind. But
unlike everyone else in any given persons fabrication, these people dont actually exist
outside of the fabrication. They wouldnt exist in the records, because theyre simply a
sideeffectcreatedfromalltheinformationinthearchives.
So, to eliminate the glitch, one fixer in a partnership of two has to go into the
fabrication where the glitch is located and identify it for deletion, after the other fixer
spots it in the first place. Its a dangerous job, despite the fact that fixers do not
physicallyenterthefabrication.Thisisbecausebeingmentallylostinaseaofcodeisno
betterthansufferingphysicaldamage.Ifsomeonewastogetstuckinafabrication,orin
the Network itself, their body may as well be with them. Without a mind, a body is
nothing.
Now,withallthisinmind,wecanfastforwardanotherfewhundredyears,which
bringsustoIsaacandLiam.
Isaac, compared to Liam, appears rather tall. He likes to think himself
exceptionally tall, but in truth, he isnt. His nearly black hair is neatly combed to one
side. His eyes are protruding, wide, and dark. His glasses, despite their normal size,
appeartoobigonhisnarrowface.Ateighteenyearsofage,heseemsabityoungerthan
heactuallyis.Untilhestartsspeaking,atleast.
Watchingthemonitor,theybothobserveEvelynn,whoisbundledinaheavycoat.
Sheisstaringatadoghousewithamailboxstickingoutofit,orperhapsamailboxwitha
doghousearoundit.Itdependsonwhichwayyouspinit,buteitherway,nothingabout
thesceneisnatural.
Huh,Liamremarks,scratchinghishead.Thatsinteresting.
Isaacnodshisagreementbeforeadding,Moreimportantly,shenoticesit.


What?Liamasks.Howdoyouknow?
Isaac turns around in his chair to shoot Liam a look of disbelief. What do you
meanhowdoyouknow?Shesstaringrightatit.
Maybe shes just admiring the doghouse, Liam argues. Whens the last time
youveseenadoghouseinperson?
Isaacshakeshishead,retuninghisattentiontothekeyboardinfrontofhim.Ive
neverseenadoghouseinperson.Andneitherhaveyou,hesays.
Exactly.Liamleansforward,rubbingathischinidly.WhatstheID?heasks.
Evelynn Grace, number, Isaac glances down at the corner of the screen,
000024928310.
Did you find the source? Liam asks. Hes already anxious to enter the
fabrication,andIsaacrollshiseyesinresponsetohisenthusiasm.
Im still working on it, Isaac replies, pressing on the keys a little harder to
emphasize this. Im tracing it back. This ones been around for a while, Im surprised
thecomputerdidntpickitupbefore.
Youneedstepupyourgame,Liamstarts,grinning,Ifyoucantpickupaglitch
beforemailboxesstartcomingoutofdoghouses.
Ok,firstofall,youknowthatIdontpickuptheglitchesbymyself,thecomputer
hastohelp,Isaacsays.Andthen,conversationally,Also,youreanidiot.
Liamsighsthroughhisnose.Justhurryup,hesaysimpatiently.
ImworkingasfastasIpossiblycan.Isaacsays.Ipromise.
Ugh, Liam mutters, flopping down on the floor. Isaac continues to click and
type on the computer, ignoring him. Liam sitting on the floor is not an unusual
occurrence.Anyoneinmaintenancesittingonthefloorisnotanunusualoccurrence.
Why cant they get supply to build more chairs? Liam asks. I mean, is it so
weirdtowanttositdownonsomethingthatsactuallymeanttobesaton?
Isaacsnorts.Thechairsarentmuchbetterthanthefloor,Iassureyou.
Ofcourseyousaythat.Youalreadyhaveachair.
IsaacturnstoglanceatLiam.Dowereallyhavetotalkaboutthechairs,orlack
thereof,everyday?heasks.
Liamsighsonceagain.Heenjoyshisjob,toapoint.Helikesseeingtheuniverses
constructed from others, and he likes taking down the glitches that threaten to


deterioratethemfromtheinside.Mostofwhathedoesnotenjoy,suchasthedetectinga
glitchinthefirstplace,Isaachandles.Therearesomeproblemshehaswiththejobthat
notevenIsaaccantakecareof,though.
Ijustwantachair,hesays.
Iknow,Liam.