Part 3: Routine

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Angeline lay with her head hanging upside down, staring at the ridges on the ship's metal floor. It had been three long, boring days on the transport ship. She had done her best to keep her head low, avoiding the other passengers as much as possible.

It was much to her chagrin that she learned there were a total of 34 people on board, including herself.

33 strangers.

33 potential victims.

Collateral damage, the old caregiver would have said. She closed her eyes in a wince, planted her hands on the ground, and swung her legs up into the air before landing on her feet and straightening up.

There was a soft chime from the room's speaker. "Attention, passengers. Your meals will be served soon. Please return to your quarters."

It was another few minutes before the autonomous service android rolled down the hall, sliding trays of food through a slot in the doors. Angeline picked at her plate of plain pasta and bread. Carbs on carbs — cheap processed grains because the travel company couldn't be bothered to pay for real food.

Once her hunger was satisfied enough to stop gnawing at her, she set the half eaten plate back on the tray and returned to fiddling with her wrist device. The metal contraption was long, covering most of her inner forearm, with small prongs embedded beneath the skin in six places. Dubbed the ComWatch, it was an all-in-one solution for Midelianites. It offered communication, social media, internet, GPS, drug testing, identification, medication, payment processing, medical records, birth control, and more.

It had been almost two decades since Corel Solutions, Midelian's biggest provider for consumer-friendly technology, had convinced the Azurian senate to allow the device to be required for most day to day interactions. It had become nearly impossible to purchase anything or even be considered for employment without one. Children over the age of fourteen were automatically fitted with one.

The skin on Angeline's left arm was raw from trying to pry the damned thing off. It was only a matter of time before they would use it to track her down, but any attempt to break it would trigger the device's alarm. It was surgically installed and needed to be surgically removed — though she had heard of rare cases where it had been broken just the right way to permanently disable it.

Frustrated with her failed efforts, she swung her arm down against the corner of the bedside table.

"Warning: violent impact detected," the device said.

A hologram of a pale woman with platinum hair appeared. "I am Elsa, your Electronic Life Support Agent. The violence detector on your ComWatch has activated this transmission. Your ComWatch sustained heavy impact, and your heart rate is elevated. Is everything all right?"

Angeline rolled her eyes. "You're not even real, you're a fucking robot," she grumbled.

"I assure you, my Artificial Life status does not prevent me from providing assistance. Are you in an emergency?"

"No!" she snapped. "Fuck off! I'm fine!"

"You seem agitated. Allow me to administer a calming sedative."

"No! I don't need your fucking—" she slammed her fist against the device as it hissed. The sedative seeped quickly through her veins, slowing her heart and relaxing her.

"Has this solved your issue?"

"Yes," she answered drowsily.

"Thank you for choosing Corel Solutions. Please rate this interaction and complete our optional satisfaction survey."

She rolled her eyes and swiped her finger through the holographic thumbs down mark.

"We're sorry for your poor experience. Please provide us with feedback on how we can improve our services."

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