“If you had to boil down this year into a sales pitch, what would it be?”
Reed laughed and bumped their shoulder against Hanne’s. “A sales pitch?”
“Yeah,” she said, leaning briefly against them as they walked. “I’m in the market for a new year. Sell me the 2368 model. I’ve got a wide variety to choose from, so tell me why you decided to live through this one.”
“You’re a nerd. You realize that, right?”
“Tell me why I should be a nerd in 2368.“
Reed scuffed their heel against the pavement of the street. New Year’s Eve, and everyone was still inside. Bars: full. Restaurants: packed. There were a few scattered couples or groups around, but they were all walking with purpose. Champagne called. Canapes. Crudites.
And here they were, Reed and Hanne, arm in arm, strolling leisurely down the street, heedless of the passersby, to celebrate the last day of 2368, systime 244+365.
“If you’re looking for the utmost in luxury, then it’s really hard to go wrong with 2368. The ride was just about as smooth as could be.”
“How about comfort?”
“Oh, very comfortable. Cushy, even,” they said, poking themself in the belly.
Hanne laughed. “Cute. How about the exterior?”
“No clue. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve had any reason to pay attention to the world outside. I imagine it looks just as confusing as it anyways has.”
“Well, okay, fair enough. You’ve been here longer than I have.”
“I keep forgetting you’re younger than me.”
She nodded. “Robbing the cradle, you are.”
“You’re 83.”
“Barely legal.”
It was their turn to laugh. “Whatever.”
“How about, uh… Features? Amenities?”
“Well, it’s got us in it, doesn’t it?”
She laughed and shoved them away from her. “Now who’s the nerd? Gross.”
Reed stumbled to the side, laughing. They’re own champagne from earlier added a pleasant freedom of movement ey only ever noticed at two drinks. Any more and they became too loose and had a hard time staying upright. Any less and they didn’t notice that any freedom was lacking.
“Is that so bad?” they said. “Alternatively: am I not allowed to be a bit maudlin? It’s fucking New Year’s, Hanne.”
“Maudlin? Is that even the right word?”
“What? Uh…” They hunted down a dictionary on the exchange, prowled through it. “Oh. Saccharine, maybe? I don’t know. Maudlin still kind of works, doesn’t it?”
She titled her head at them.
“”Extremely sentimental,” it says. Pretty sure that fits.”
Hanne rolled her eyes, grinning. “Okay, yeah, that fits you to a tee.”
All told, a fine way to spend the remainder of systime 244, almost 102 years since they — or at least their down-tree instance, Marsh — had uploaded.
Take a human mind, crush it, compress it down to a dream, mix it all up, pour it into a system with however many billion others — billion? Trillion? — to let everyone dream within unison. Make yourself a