Through a grime-smeared window, the copper sky simmered.

Alice had her back turned towards the glare. She was too lazy to draw the blinds and wanted very much to get back into the dream she had been having.

The radio clock on her nightstand crackled into life. The last few notes of The Girl from Ipanema sounded, and a crisp voice female DJ started to talk about the origins of the tune. It was almost noon.

Crawling out of bed, Alice sat for a moment at the edge and stared out into the sky, letting her eyes adjust to the light. Her body still ached from the accident. The doctor told her it would take a while for the drugs to clear, and stiffness and numbness would persist for as long as two months after.

Outside, the day’s business was picking up. Mark’s Delicatessen across the street was just starting to fill up, while the corner Starbucks already had a line inside. A dog barked on someone’s balcony somewhere along her floor.

Pulling the cords gently, Alice closed her blinds, and began taking off her clothes. Slowly, she peeled away her camisole. Bruises the size of baseballs covered her chest, lower back and stomach, already yellowing in recovery. They did not hurt. None of her injuries did.

Alice examined herself in the bathroom mirror as she removed the rest of her clothing. Similar bruises marred her right upper thigh. On her face, dry skin flaked around the scalp, like dandruff. She peeled a piece off and looked at it, fascinated. It was grey and hard, like scales.

Another side effect.

As she stepped into the bath tub, the phone rang. The machine picked it up. A thin female voice spoke.

“Alice, it’s Ping. Just wanted to check if you wanted to go to the mall today. I need a new dress for tonight. Call me.”

She hung up noisily and the machine beeped.

Alice let the water run over her body. The sensation was always a little bizarre, a little fascinating. It was as though she had grown new, thicker skin. She could feel every droplet of water and yet, with the heat full on, the water did not scald. Yet another side effect.

“You have to be very careful not to hurt yourself because you won’t feel things normally for a while. It just takes a little work to keep reminding yourself not to drink anything too hot or do anything dangerous like stick your hand into the garbage disposal,” Dr Menaka had warned her.

Wrapping her towel around her, Alice stepped into her studio and some old Miles Davis jazz was on. Drying her hair, she listened to Ping’s message again. Alice picked up an S-shaped device from her nightstand and pressed it against her ear, before pressing a button to return her friend’s call.

“Hey. You called?”

“Hey! So how about it? I am evidently a man, because I have no dresses.”

“Come pick me up?”

“Oh so I’m your driver now?” snorted Ping. “Be ready in an hour.”

Alice hung up and thought about lunch. She should be ravenous after 16 hours of no food, but she only felt a tinge of hunger.

“You won’t feel a lot of things normally, for example hunger. You will need to remember to eat regularly, and your stomache will need smaller portions, which is great if you’re thinking of losing weight,” Dr Menaka had said.

She decided to get dressed for a latte and a croissant at Starbucks. Throwing on training pants and a tank top, Alice grabbed her keys and opened the door.

 

“Hey Alice!”

A bleach blonde in a black apron and the signature Starbucks t-shirt greeted Alice cheerily as she joined the long queue that had filled out the tiny Starbucks.

“Hey Pam. How are you?”

“Oh, can’t complain. How are you feeling, dearie?” Pam said, tilting her head back, holding Alice’s right shoulder gingerly, inspecting her from top to bottom with concern.

“I’m just a little stiff, you know. Otherwise, everything seems to be working.”

“You know what’s so funny? A close friend of mine from Tucson just had a similar thing happen to him? He’d been walkin’ around near the river, minding his own business, when this Harley on the road above him went out of control and sort of dove INTO him!”

“Oh my. I hope he’s okay.”

“Well, we weren’t at all worried, until his mom told me that Charlie – that’s his name – had accidentally triggered his SecondLife just two months before when he’d fell into the river during a damn rafting accident? I know, he’s crazy. But he’s fine, really. The thing worked as it should’ve.”

“Oh, I’m glad.”

“Well I gotta go back to work. You take care now.”

“Thanks Pam. You have a good day.”

“Don’t forget to eat!” Pam called back as she waded through the crowd toward the back of the counter.

“Yes!” Alice responded, smiling at her parting friend.

After Alice picked up her coffee and croissant, she decided to stop by the used book store next door to see if a book she’d ordered had arrived. The store was owned by a family friend, Kim and her husband Donald. Today, their son Saul was manning the place.

Saul had been flirting on and off with Alice since she’d moved to the apartments across the street a few months ago, but they’d never dated. And then the accident happened. Saul visited the hospital once and brought her roses. She didn’t know if that was some sort of signal but she liked Saul a lot, and hoped that he would ask her out soon. Last night, he called and had set up a double date “just to get her back into the swing of things”. Hence the dress Ping needed to buy.

Alice entered the cool confines of the store, breathing in the familiar, musky scent. The red afternoon sun filtered in through dusty windows to paint the store in tangerines and browns. Ella sang a crackled tune about blue skies somewhere in the store, which was otherwise deserted. The gentle tinkle of a bell had announced her entrance.

Saul walked out from behind a shelf. Seeing Alice, he smiled widely. Fingers brushed salt and pepper hair nervously, as he moved to the front of the store carrying a stack of books.

“Hey Saul. Did my book arrive?” Alice asked, her eyes scanning the some of the books on the counter and then settling on Saul as she sipped her latte.

“Oh yea. It arrived this morning, actually.”

Saul disappeared behind the counter and emerged with a golden brown book entitled Life After Death: A History of the Afterlife in Western Religion by Alan F. Segal.

“I could’ve brought this to our date tonight,” said Saul in the quiet, softspoken baritone that often made Alice wonder if he was not a serial killer in the making. She also wondered if he could sing. She’d noticed a guitar sometimes in the store.

“Oh, I had some time. Thanks, Saul,” she said shyly, opening her wallet for some cash.

“Oh no, it-, don’t worry about it, Alice. It’s a gift.”

Alice looked up, and found his intense green eyes, looking fondly at her. She could not help but smile.

“No, are you sure? This is a $25 book, Saul.”

“No, it’s my gift. To you. Sort of a welcome back present.”

“Well, thanks Saul. I-…Thank you,” she said, touching Saul’s hand briefly. Alice let it rest for a second before picking up her new book and her coffee. As she walked out, Saul crossed his arms and his generous smile returned.

“I’ll see you tonight. Seven?” she asked, giving him a parting shot.

“Can’t wait,” he said, nodding.

 

The evening turned out splendidly.

Ping and Jason, Saul’s geeky friend from the hardware store a few blocks down, decided to visit a club while Alice and Saul settled on a bottle of viognier back at her apartment. Half a bottle went by before Saul drummed up the courage talk about Alice’s accident. They sat across from each other comfortably in mismatched armchairs, their socked feet on Alice’s badly scratched mahogany table, heels and toes resting against each other, touching, wiggling sometimes, listening to Peter White on Saul’s shiny black Pandora.

First contact. Footsie on top of a table.

“How did you know I like Peter White?” she asked, a little tipsy.

“I like Peter White.”

Alice sipped and snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Saul asked expectantly.

“The wine. Usually, I’d be floored by my third glass. Now, I’m just happy,” Alice giggled, taking another sip.

“Here’s to SecondLife,” Saul held up his glass. Alice responded in kind. Alice curled her toes and touched its tips to Saul’s big socked soles.

“Your feet are huge,” she teased, looking at them through her wine glas.

“Those are toaster covers, not socks.”

Alice laughed openly. Taking another sip, she stood up and started to move to Ken Navarro’s The Sky Today. She looked at Saul and held out her hand.

“Dance with me.”

A small smile played on Saul’s lips. He set down his glass and took her hand. And then he pulled her over gently.

Alice fell on his lap, her wine glass almost spilling. His arms reached around her, and Alice straddled his long legs.

Outside, night fell reluctantly.

 

Perhaps she should’ve waited a while before having sex. It was, after all, their first date. At least she should’ve waited until she got all her nerves back.

Still, it was nice. But nice was not nice for Saul.

Alice giggled.

“What is it?” asked Saul worriedly, bringing her thigh up to his under the sheets, stroking it.

“I can’t wait for my next medical. You know, they’d injected some sort of device in me to check my stats constantly. I’m guessing it shows I had sex.”

Saul frowned.

“Is it bad?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not infectious, Saul.”

“Not very appropriate after-sex talk, baby.”

They laughed softly and kissed and pretty soon, Saul was in her.

“You don’t feel anything?” he asked, moving gently.

“Oh I do. Like I said, I feel every little thing. Just that, it’s a little intense.”

Alice kissed the beautiful man in front of her.

“Is it painful?” he inquired.

“No, it’s not. Like I said, it blocks out all those kinds of sensations. Which is why you have to be gentle with me,” she smiled lazily.

“My pleasure,” Saul said, before taking her into his arms until they became one.

 

“How was it?”

Ping’s eyes were as wide as satellite dishes as they munched on salads the afternoon after.

“It was great. He was…very good.”

“Wow, ‘grats,” Ping said, eating hungrily.

“How was Jason? Where did you guys go?”

“We went to Machi’s, and then parted ways. He’s a nice guy but someone should tell him he might be gay.”

“Why didn’t you?” Alice asked, sipping cold tea.

“I didn’t feel like leaving and didn’t want to be alone,” Ping said after a big bite, looking at Alice cheekily.

“You had sex?!”

“At Machi’s. You know that little phone booths they have? It was nice. You should try it.”

“I think we might wait a while before we do what we did again,” Alice shifted her seat.

“That wild huh? Good for you!”

“I’m sure something somewhere tore but I can’t feel a thing. Maybe I should go check with the doc today,” Alice picked at the remains of her salad.

“I would LOVE to see what Dr Menaka has to say,” laughed Ping.

“You had sex after you almost died. It’s a natural, life-affirming thing to do.”

“But I didn’t. I wasn’t even in emergency. They’ve stopped sending out emergency crews to what they call Code Yellow emergencies. I was out probably two hours before someone called me in and picked me up.”

“Wow. So what is a real emergency?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a heart attack?”

“It’s so strange. A few of my cousins back in Vietnam just had like a bunch of babies, and they JUST had their SecondLifes injected. I mean, I’m almost 25. How backward is that?”

“A whole new generation.”

“Right. Apparently they have even more advanced ones these days, that I guess would make a heart attack a Code Yellow, I dunno. They had to pay extra for those.”

“Wow. I wished we had upgradeable ones. Or ones that reset faster.”

“So you can have wild sex sooner?” smirked Ping.

Alice threw a crouton at Ping.

 

A visit to the hospital always unnerved Alice, because she had to pass the geriatric wards on her way. After all, old age was the only thing that killed people these days. That was what the Code Reds were for now. Saving the human race from their natural expiry dates.

An old man hobbled past her tied to a drip. He nodded at her and suddenly started to cough violently. Phlegm shot out and onto the floor, dark green and thick. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He wiped his mouth feebly with a bare hand and looked around helplessly for a nurse.

“I’ll get that for you, mister,” Alice said kindly, pressing a button on the wall. A male nurse down the hall touched something on his wrist and looked up, before walking toward them.

“You’re very kind. Thanks miss,” the old man said, looking at Alice fondly. She smiled and continued on her way. Reaching Dr Menaka’s office, Alice knocked. A dark, Indian lady looked up from a clipboard around a bunch of machines.

“Alice! How are you? You’re not due for a checkup are you?” Dr Menaka asked cheerfully, touching Alice’s arm. She’s one of those women who should be a mother but is not. Which is great for the hospital.

“Oh no. I just wanted a zap to see if everything’s okay.”

“Oh. Why? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I might’ve.” Looking around, she whispered.

“I had sex last night. A lot of it.”

Dr Menaka raised an eyebrow, the ends of her brown lips quivering with a restrained smile.

“Okay. Wait here.”

Dr Menaka came back with a device that looked like a phone. On it was a touchscreen that made little bleeps when she touched it. Alice sat on the exam table. Dr Menaka tapped the device a few more times.

“Looks like you might’ve just had a small vaginal tear, nothing serious. The tracker indicates you’re going to be fine.”

The good doctor leaned forward.

“But don’t push it.”

Alice grinned.

“Thanks doc. See you in two weeks?”

“You bet. Have a good day, Alice.”

Her phone rang as she walked past the geriatric wing again, her eyes pulling away from people she imagined should’ve died a long time ago but for their SecondLifes. People who could’ve withstood anything had their systems not aged.

The US was the first country to adopt the SecondLife program on a large scale, simply because it was an American scientist, Sandy Masterson, who’d come up with the solution to end one of life’s biggest problems: death. That was 30 years ago. Today, a whole generation of SecondLife implanted babies had become adults. Alice is one of them.

The device, a combination of minute wireless biomechanical devices implanted in the brain and other vital parts of the body, could force the body to withstand any impact, virtually turning a human being into a superhero in a split second that lasted for a couple of hours, with neural effects lasting a couple of months. Skin and other protective tissue thickened. Blood vessels enlarged. Senses became acute.

The device tapped into a once unchartered region of the brain now called The Seventh Sense or the Survival Sense to create the chemicals necessary for the full process. What made it so ingenius was that it could only be triggered by a unique unmanufacturable chemical reaction, a condition we know as fear of imminent death. It is a state not easily manufactured, which made the device fool proof.

Naturally, the science triggered many ethical debates and soon, lawmakers began restricting how SecondLife was used and how the science should advance, to avoid abuse. All SecondLife could do today was to save a person’s life in the event of a vehicle accident or an unpredicted condition such as a person’s first heart attack or a stroke. Upon discovery of an illness, the device would be reprogrammed to only protect during imminent harm. Yearly health checks became mandatory. It was a small price to pay for life preservation.

 

“My doctor thinks we should lay off the sex for a while,” Alice muttered into Saul’s chest that afternoon, as they sat together at the couch, reading. She breathed in the clean scent of his shirt, and looked up.

Saul thumbed his glasses and smiled.

“Okay. How’s an hour?”

Alice chuckled, and turned a page on her new book, snuggling deeper into Saul’s chest.

“I’m glad you’re back, Alice.”

Saul kissed her hair and closed his eyes.

“Me too.”

Outside, the afternoon sun began its descent, making long and sleepy shadows on the burning pavement. Somewhere, a car screeched. Someone yelled. And then, the gurgling cries of a neighbour’s newborn took centerstage in a symphony of life’s little sounds.