Head in the Clouds

John held the pliers in both hands, on the table were a selection of tools he used in his working days taken from the old satchel beside the coffee table. 

  “What are these for?” He asked the empty room. It was the strangest thing, he knew there was a reason he held them in his hands but in that moment his mind blanked. He put the pliers down and frowned as he tried to remember the reason. He clicked his fingers and realised he most likely set a reminder to do a job that needed them.

  “Medi-pal, what jobs have I listed for completion around the house today?” He smiled and sighed when he remembered that. About time technology earned its keep. John heard the small click inside his ear and waited for the answer. 

  “Your scheduled daily tasks will appear shortly but first this message from our sponsors.” The announcers voice said in pleasant enough fashion. Thanks to the additional retinal implant his daughter insisted he should purchase a vision of a calming blue ocean swam before his eyes. The animated waiting icon let him know he would soon be able to see his schedule. He relaxed into his chair and for a moment considered using his media provider to stream a soft piece of classical jazz.

  His eyes and ears near exploded with neon splashes of colours and a man’s voice roaring voice.

  “Invest in cloud storage now! Your precious memories deserve security and for a limited time only you can secure rapid access priority” John waved his hands to silence the rest of the advert, but the slogan echoed in his mind long after.

  “I don’t need fucking cloud storage. I don’t have anything to store in the damned cloud to start off with.” He slapped the side of his head hoping the impact might correct some deficit in the medical implant behind his ear. I’ll have to call the doctor he thought, and the device obliged his intent by flashing up images of his GP’s booking calendar.

  “Your next free appointment slot is next Tuesday at 08:45.” The voice of the woman announcing this haughty and stern.

  “Close Close Close!” He said aloud to the empty room. Its not the GP I need. He recalled the instructions for the implant. He knew he did not have to say the words out loud, but he had yet to master the subvocal command system.  

   “Contacting Medi-pal customer service.” Another window popped open. The windows were usually translucent so he could still see around him as normal but now there were three screens open his field of vision everything blurred. He felt outraged and asked of the silence and the empty room; What if I was out walking when all those screens popped open? I’d be blind that’s what. He bit down on the familiar stirrings of outrage and determined that he would do something about it. He flailed his hands before his eyes until the screens slinked away. He kept blinking until he could see again. John heard the melodic call waiting jingle reverberating inside his head.

   I didn’t even think that yet! Bloody thing’s gone haywire! John wondered what else the implant could predict, the idea of it alarmed him.

His e-wallet flashed open. The call charge counter rang up a contact fee and displayed a sliding scale of costs for each inquiry. Ah no, not more debt! He winced at the thought of what this would do to his pending health insurance premiums.

  “While you wait to connect, please listen to a message from our sponsors.”

  “Invest in cloud storage now!” The words and jingle echoed their way through his skull yet again.

  “Stop Stop Stop!” He almost shouted into the bare white walls of his sub-let apartment. They must have me on the wrong account! he thought, and he heard a beep as the implant’s sensors picked up the words in his head.

  Ah! That must be sub vocalising. This time he was conscious of the minute movements of his throat and larynx. Nonetheless his silent words called up the retinal video link and he saw his call to Medi-pal customer service paused and the device’s options screen danced before his eyes.

“How do I stop these ads?” he said aloud again. He had yet to master these ridiculous subvocalising techniques. A thought cloud icon appeared and cycled through its animations.

  “Reticulating Answer.” The woman’s voice, a stern and irritating posh English accent, said.

  A message popped on screen but the text was too small to read and scrolled across his field of vision too quickly in any event. The voice continued to speak.

  “You are currently registered on an NHS sponsored coverage plan. Under this contract you have agreed to receive targeted adverts and sponsored messages. Do you wish to upgrade your contract to premium? With premium you can automate your responses to incoming messages and data recovery requests. You can skip adverts and receive a private cloud account for content and application storage.”

Jon didn’t remember the doctors telling him any of this prior to the procedure and the nurse, what was her name? She just told him the basic plan would be great.

  “It’s better than the alternative John, believe me, early onset Alzheimer’s is nothing to joke about. You’ll have many more years to enjoy life.”

  “Yeah, Like I’m really enjoying this.” He said aloud with a voice rich in sarcasm.

  “Thank you.” Said the voice ringing in his ear. “Your compliment has been recorded. You have been entered into our monthly prize draw you could win a six month retin-cast or even a couple’s trip to France!”

  “Can’t I switch this damned thing off?” He nearly shouted this time and slapped the side of his head three or four times. The device emitted a sharp whistling tone, a hiss of white noise that irritated even after it stopped.

  “Are you okay? The device has detected an impact. Have you fallen? Do you require medical assistance?”  

  “No, I’m fine.” John thought of his meagre bank account. Isn’t this covered by the basic plan? The memory, hazy though it was, shimmered in front of him. The device, however it worked, summoned the memory and replayed it like a movie on the retinal implant in his right eye. This on account that his vision deteriorated in his left and he could not afford the whole package. He remembered now, the conversation with the nurse. What was it she said? He felt the Medi-pal vibrate behind his ear and a recording of the event played out.

  “Do I have to pay for this?”

  “No John.” Said the nurse and it was like he could see the ghost of her, a pale indistinct pool of shadows and light standing before him. “We give these to patients on the sponsored plan, remember to ask Lucy.”

  Lucy! Of course, she’d know.

John calmed a little knowing his daughter would pick up and he could ask her what to do. He blinked and sub vocalised, he even said aloud; “Call Lucy.”

He tried his best to ignore the pop-up screens that aside the real world and left vision blurred and his eyes aching.

  “Hi this is Lucy, this is a recorded message for Dad. Dad, I’m busy right now, remember we said I needed to prioritise my own time. I will call you after five o clock when I get home from work. If it’s an emergency call your health services hotline, they will decide whether to patch the call through to me. Love you Dad, byeee!”

  The cold hard voice of the implant’s service operator cut in. “I have the number of the health services customer service, would you like me to make a connection. This is a free call service and you will not be charged.”  

John did not know what to say, the thought of his own daughter pawning him off with a pre-recorded message left him cold.  

  With so much to concentrate on, John felt a palpable fear that he would forget what he needed to do. In the meantime a page opened up inside his eyes and a list of his recent implant activities scrolled up, again too fast to read. They only ended when a new advert appeared.

  “Life moving too fast? Everything is overwhelming, contact us now.”

  “Bloody ads.” He muttered.

  “Do you wish to resume call to customer service?”

  “No,” he said “I’ll wait for Lucy, she’ll know what to do.”

The call ended and then the next page appeared in his field of vision, his bank details with the fees for the implant highlighted in red.

  “This is your automated accounts advisor. You are paying for a basic package, you will receive better services and value for money if you upgrade your package now. As a pensioner you qualify for a discount if you use the following promotion code.” A pulsing neon cube danced before his eyes.

  “Ah bugger this!” John said, he remembered then what he needed the pliers for as he tugged hard on the implant behind his ear.