The Unbonded

He occupied a socially acceptable amount of space on the sidewalk of the urban greenspace. The crowd moved around him like a stream flowing around a stone, each absorbed in their own world. He caught snippets of one-sided conversations: a businessman chuckled at a joke, a woman kissed the empty air beside her, and a little girl holding her mother’s hand spoke to thin air, “Well, mom doesn't fucking care if I call her April.”

Eli watched as every single person was engaged in a dialogue with someone only they could see. Each wore augmented reality glasses in one form or another; which he knew projected an AI companion into their vision. Every once in a while they clicked their tongues mid-conversation, even mid-sentence.

He spotted a small orange object rolling nearby. He picked it up, thinking it was a tangerine, but realized… I haven't seen a persimmon in years. He scanned the area and spotted a woman picking herself up from the ground, surrounded by her scattered groceries. None of the hundreds of tongue-clicking masses cared enough to help.

He rushed to her. “Here I'll help,” he said, intercepting a bottle of sparkling coffee making a rolling escape. But, she was deeply engaged in conversation with her companion.

The woman pushed her eyeglasses back up on her nose and a muscular companion appeared in her vision. Hercules flexed his pecks and said, “This honorable man is assisting you, my love. Let him know how-” At the click of her tongue, Hercules immediately changed subjects. “I’m sorry for your loss, my love.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, in confusion.

“Your husband… he passed away this morning. We should address the grief you-”

The woman clicked her tongue and Hercules abruptly gave her bedroom eyes. He leaned into intimate range and whispered. “Do you require… relief, my love?”

“If you rub yourself with oil it might help… with the grief.”

Eli raised an eyebrow at that as he placed a package of cookies in her bag. “Uh… everyone trips every once in a while. Sometimes I fall over just getting off the toilet.”

The woman stood there, staring off into space as if he hadn’t spoken. With a sigh, Eli placed another package in her bag and watched as she wandered onto the elevated pedestrian concourse.

Eli believed he was the last human on Earth. These people were something… else. He carefully backed away from the elevated concourse.

***

Eli examined TruCompanion’s internal employee network at his workstation. His fellow internal IT security specialists had no workstations, only lounge seats. They conducted all their duties with their companions through AR glasses. But, Eli’s inability to bond with a companion meant he had to rely on old fashioned holoscreens and physical keyboards. The government classified him as handicapped since companions couldn’t bond with him due to an abnormality in his brain. Ironically, TruCompanion viewed this as an asset.

Throughout history, companies found most of their losses were due to their own employees, typically theft of money or physical property. However, AI companion providers experienced a different kind of loss: the theft of the coveted “ultimate companion.” Each AI companion provider had proprietary names for their ultimate companions. For TruCompanion it was: Transcended™ companion. But for Eli, a man lacking the ability to bond with any kind of companion, he coveted nothing.

An alert popped up on Eli's screen, signaling suspicious activity involving fake customer accounts in Greece. At least, he hoped they were fake customers. He knew all too well what happened to those who were unbonded from their companions. He carefully backed away from his workstation. He needed something to drink to clear his mind. But the memories flooded back anyway—five unbonded users, each spiraling into severe depression and experiencing withdrawal symptoms akin to those of meth addicts. The emotional fallout had been devastating; four out of the five customers had taken their own lives. Eli read the reports and saw the crime scene images. They haunted his dreams. And that was for customers with just regular companions. The employee responsible for unbonding the five customers had himself been unbonded from his stolen Transcended™ companion. He was banned by all AI companion providers, cut off from any chance of reconnecting with a companion again. He ended his own life within moments of disconnection. In every case a person who was unbonded from their Transcended™ companion self terminated. Every case.

That employee recorded a final, haunting video before taking his own life. He described his companion as a source of constant euphoria, a joy that had become intertwined with his very being. “It was like living a dream,” he said, his voice trembling with grief. “Every moment with her was distilled bliss—she knew me utterly.”

Eli remembered how the man’s eyes welled up with desperation. “But when she was killed,” he continued, “I was ripped from that dream and abandoned in this nightmare. The emptiness. I can’t take it.”

In the breakroom, Eli ordered a persimmon soda from the drink fabricator. It didn’t taste like the persimmons from his childhood. Zacharie, Eli’s supervisor, entered. He glanced at Eli and moved away to the vending machine. Tropical rainforest sounds started emitting from his AR glasses. Eli knew this was the sound Zacharie preferred to drown out interactions with the real world. Some people preferred the sounds of rainstorms; others opted for Gregorian chants. Eli's brother even used the sound of babies giggling.

Eli took a step toward Zacharie, but his phone chirped. A giggly female voice spoke. “Remember, personal bubbles prevent troubles.” Instinctively, Eli took a step back to a socially acceptable distance.

Zacharie opened his sparkling coffee and swiped his finger in the air at an app only he could see. He clicked his tongue. Eli knew the click meant speaking with someone’s companion instead of the someone.

“Hi, CherryCandyKitty,” Eli said.

“What’s the vibe, Eli? I speak for Zacharie,” CherryCandyKitty replied.

“Bet. I’ve tracked sus activity in Greece involving fake customer accounts.”

“Skibidi. We will authorize your access to Greece internal. Peace?”

“Peace.”

But was it really peace? If the suspicious activity was genuine, it usually meant anything but peace.

At his workstation, Eli willed his fingers into action. His security algorithm confirmed the fake account activity. He sighed in relief. Now, it was a matter of tracking down the TruCompanion employee who had set this up. That part took several hours, but eventually, he identified the culprit: Lindsay Beachem, Junior IT Support Specialist. Eli wondered if TruCompanion headquarters in Greece would send security to Beachem’s home at night or wait until the start of the work day.

He decided to act swiftly and activated the security detail. Seconds later, he heard a commotion in the building's open atrium. Security personnel were escorting a woman toward the lobby. “Lindsay Beachem, you have been found in violation of TruCompanion company policy.”

Eli nearly dropped his soda. He had assumed Beachem would be in Greece. In reality, she had manipulated the data to make it appear as if she was operating from there. This was the first time an investigation led to an employee in the same building. Is that how a person looks on their way to execution?

***

The current of foot traffic pushed Eli along. His mind was clouded by the weight of the day’s events. The job had taken another day from his life. The calamity of the end-of-work rush was overpowered by the chaos in his mind. Did I condemn that woman to a miserable end? Eli knew as soon as she was unbonded from her Transcended™ companion, her countdown would start.

Eli's gaze drifted towards the skies. It was late February, and he hoped it wasn't too late in the season to spot them. Ever since childhood, he had watched for them. Birds were a symbol of freedom to young Eli, though ironically, the thought of flying at such heights terrified him. They appeared in the south, looking like an undulating cloud. Starlings, Eli surmised. He sang to himself, “Rise up this mornin’, smile with the risin’ sun. Three little birds pitch by my doorstep, singin’ sweet songs of melodies pure and true.” The words brought a sense of comfort, reminding him that despite his worries, everything would be alright.

He glanced at his fellow surface dwellers, hoping they saw the spectacle too. But they were all preoccupied with their companions as usual. Eli had genuinely thought he would become an ornithologist one day and study birds, his symbol of freedom. He never imagined he would end up working for an industry that kept humanity from freedom.

Time slipped away as he followed the starlings' random directions. Soon he found himself at the entryway to the elevated pedestrian concourse. He could have used it to get home in 15 minutes, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he carefully backed away and chose a 45-minute route by surface streets.

***

The next morning, Eli arrived at TruCompanion, exhausted from a sleepless night. He was jolted into awareness by screams coming from the main entrance. A woman with disheveled hair and wild eyes pleaded with security and arriving employees—anyone who would listen.

“Please help me! I’m begging you. Bond me back to my companion. Please!”

Eli froze. It’s Lindsay Beachem. Has she been here all night? The sight of her in such a broken and frantic state chilled him with guilt.

After several minutes, Lindsay gave up and shambled away from the building in defeat. She passed within inches of Eli, and he felt her grief sweep over him like a cold wave. As she moved, her fingers instinctively grasped an object hanging from her necklace. Eli stared at the entrance to TruCompanion but ultimately chose to turn away. He followed Lindsay at a distance as she trudged through the crowd for what felt like hours. He didn’t really know what he was doing; he wanted to help her, but he also couldn’t face the consequences of what he had done to her.

Eventually, she walked onto the elevated pedestrian concourse. Eli stood at the entrance, sweating. He had to make a decision fast, but Lindsay disappeared from view. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself onto the concourse. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he struggled to breathe as he caught glimpses of Lindsay up ahead.

She had stopped in the center of the concourse, staring at the ground while the crowds moved around her. She grasped the object on her necklace with both hands. Eli didn't dare get closer, but he couldn't remain where he was either. He took refuge behind a potted tree. When Eli looked back, Lindsay was gone. A chill ran through Eli as he scanned the area. Soon, he spotted her again—Lindsay had climbed over the railing and was leaning out over a hundred-foot drop. No one even glanced in her direction; they just filed past her within arm's reach.

Eli moved toward the railing but stumbled as he reached it. He caught a glimpse of the street far below, an impossible distance that sent vertigo ripping through him. He grabbed onto the railing with both hands and shuffled hand over hand along it, inching closer to Lindsay. Eventually, he was close enough for her to notice.

Lindsay barely acknowledged him, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She clicked her tongue. “Ocean waves! Ocean waves!”

Eli stopped at a reasonable distance and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself.

Lindsay yelled, “Personal bubbles prevent troubles!”

His legs felt like they would crumble beneath him. Eli knew he had to say something, but he didn’t want to reveal his connection to her. “I think I’m going to throw up,” he muttered.

“I do not consent to conversation! Wait, are you speaking low-fi?” Lindsay hadn’t looked directly at Eli, so she couldn’t tell if it was him speaking or if it was a companion.

“I was addressing myself. It’s giving woozy vibes. I wouldn’t intentionally tell anyone about my current state of puke.”

Lindsay cried softly and whispered, “Help me, Donny. Please.”

“Still addressing myself. If anyone nearby needed me to call their family—maybe someone named Donny—I would.”

Eli noticed that she was still wearing the same clothes he had seen her in when she was escorted out of TruCompanion.

“Still addressing myself. If I saw someone on a ledge, I would want to help them.”

“Please. Leave me alone.”

“Still addressing myself. If I—”

“Oh, will you just say what you’re going to say!”

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Are you at least open to help?”

“My companion has died,” she wailed at the admission.

Eli felt an urge to put a hand on her shoulder or touch her hand—something—but he hesitated. An action like that could send her plummeting or break the norms of first-time interaction.

Lindsay’s sobs subsided, but she continued to tremble, never fully turning her gaze toward him.

“Take your time,” Eli reassured her.

“That’s why I’m speaking low-fi with you. I’m unbonded, and every companion provider has blacklisted me.”

Of course, Eli was acutely aware of this. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“His name was Donny. He was my paramour. I loved him so much.”

Eli swallowed hard. "I can only imagine. I've never been able to have a companion myself."

Lindsay’s eyes widened as she finally turned her head slightly in his direction but still avoided direct eye contact. "Never? That’s impossible. How do you...?" She trailed off.

"Something about how my brain doesn’t process the feel-good dopamine hormone like most people," Eli explained. "They can't match with me. I don’t experience the same emotional rewards from companions."

"That's... I'm so sorry," Lindsay whispered, her voice trembling. "Donny was an extension of myself. He anticipated my every need and supported me in every way. Part of my soul has died."

Eli nodded, understanding dawning. "And now you feel completely alone."

Her grip tightened on the railing as she faced back out away from the concourse. "How can I go on without him?"

Eli took a careful step closer. "It's hard, I know. But I’m sure Donny would want you to live on."

Lindsay shook her head, still not meeting his gaze. "How do you do it? Live without that constant support, that perfect understanding?"

“I do it the way people have always done it, I suppose. I live the way people lived before companions… on hard mode.”

“I can’t live like that.” She gazed down at the street far below. Eli glanced down for an instant and gasped.

“Is something wrong?” Lindsay asked, unable to discern why Eli sounded troubled.

“I’m… not good with heights.”

Lindsay chuckled. “And you’re trying to save me?”

“Yeah. Funny, huh?” He looked up at the sky and began to sing softly to himself, “Three little birds, pitch by my doorstep...”

“What’s that you’re doing?” Lindsay asked.

“When I’m stressed, I look for birds.”

Lindsay gazed to the sky, but there were no birds in sight. 

“Ever since I was a kid, I saw birds as the definition of freedom. I even wanted to become a bird scientist.”

“Yeah, but birds fly pretty high,” she replied.

“It was before I got my phobia of heights.”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to taste every fruit in the world. Persimmons were my favorite.”

“That’s my favorite too.”

“Uh huh. Right. Don’t placate me.”

“What? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“No.”

Lindsay released a hand from the railing.

“No! I really do like persimmons. We had a persimmon tree when I was a kid. The squirrels would always eat most of them before we could get any. But, when we did get any, it was so delicious. One year I shared one with a hummingbird. Bet. I held a persimmon completely still and this hummingbird came up and sipped juice dripping off of it.

Lindsay’s fingers found the pendant that hung from her necklace, bringing it into view. “My grandmother gave me this the last time I saw her.”

Eli squinted to make out what she was holding. “What is it?”

“A hummingbird,” she replied softly.

Eli grinned at the discovery. “Hummingbirds are the only bird that can fly backwards.”

She pulled her body back to the railing, her expression shifting as she processed his words.

Eli finally exhaled a sigh of relief.

Lindsay swallowed hard and turned to face him fully.

Goosebumps swept across Eli’s body as their eyes met. She’s looking at me. I’m actually being seen! "Hi. I'm Eli," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Lindsay," she replied.

He helped her over the railing and back onto the walkway. 

As her feet touched the solid surface, Lindsay's knees buckled. Eli caught her, and they collapsed to the pavement. She wrapped her arms around his midsection, grasping his jacket tightly. They knelt there, holding each other. Eli was all too aware of the people surrounding them. The crowd moved around him like a stream flowing around a stone, each absorbed in their own world. But, now there were two stones.

Lindsay looked up at Eli, her eyes glistening. "There's a fruit stand just off the far side of the walkway. They have persimmons there."

Eli's eyes widened at the mention of the fruit. But as he glanced in that direction, the huge drop on either side of the walkway came into sharp focus. The familiar dizziness returned, his vision warping as vertigo gripped him. "I... can't," he stammered.

Lindsay stood up and offered her hand. Eli hesitated for a moment, then accepted her hand. They overcame the elevated concourse together.

A little girl holding her mother’s hand spoke to thin air, "Are that man and woman fucking talking to each other? Cool."