​Sterling and Echo

*Written this morning. Wanted it to live somewhere other than my Google Drive. vaguely inspired by Narcissis and Echo. 2153 words.*

Outside of the massive bay window, it was raining again. It felt like it had rained for months on end. The man, tall and of broad shoulder, pulled shut the drapes, and the glow of the image of the rainy world beyond this room slowly grew dim and then faded to black.

The man ambled across the room and lowered himself gently down into a high-backed leather armchair. “Echo,” he called, “how long has it been raining?”

A string of light appeared and strung itself across the wall at what would be slightly lower than eye level if the man were standing. Within a second or two, it had encircled the room, a pulsing cool blue. “Good morning, Sterling,” a disembodied voice spoke. As it did, the string of cool blue light that surrounded the room pulsed with the soundwaves of the voice. “Reports indicate that it has rained for 55 consecutive days.”

“That has to be bad news,” Sterling Hawthorne pondered out loud. “55 consecutive days or rain surely has the lowlands flooded and mudslides closing major roads.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sterling,” Echo sang. “There are indeed reports of catastrophe across the region. A family of 5 has gone missing on the interstate and are suspected dead after being swallowed by a mudslide. Their names are Angela Edwards, 42 years old, Henry B Edwards, 44 years old, Samantha Edwards, 11 years old, Joseph Edwards, 9 years old, and Carly Edwards, 8 years old. The governor just called off the search for them,” Echo’s voice changed to that of a somber man, “we recognize this must be hard for members of their family, but conditions are too dangerous to continue the search. Our hearts go out to the Edwards family, their loved ones, community members, and friends.” Reverting to its usual feminine voice, Echo continued, “there are also devastating floods that have crippled travel across the lowlands. Would you like to hear about them?”

Sterling sighed. People were getting hurt and needed help. If he still had the power of his youth, he thought to himself, he would be out there facing that danger and helping those people. “No thank you,” he sighed. If he wasn’t going to help, hearing about it was more than he could bear. “Does the forecast look like the rain will stop soon?”

“Unfortunately, the forecast indicates that the rain will come for at least 3 more days, maybe clearing up by the 4th or 5th day from today,” Echo stated with a flat voice before continuing, “you have enough food and supplies to last you another 3 weeks in the house. We will be able to ride out the storm together. Would you like me to tell you a story from your childhood, or do you want to play a trivia game with me? Let me know what you want me to do, and we’ll do it.”

Sterling thought for a moment, and then responded, “I think I need to get out of the house. Maybe I could just walk around the block. I can deal with a little rain, right?”

“There are reports of looters on the rise. My risk assessment is that the danger is too great outside of the house. You’re safest if you stay here with me for just a little longer. Would you like me to design an exercise program that you can do inside to get your body moving?”

“No thanks,” Sterling signed. He nervously rubbed the arm of his arm chair, and felt his fingertips gliding across the firm leather. He thought about the gray rainy sky outside, and the neverending boredom that had been his life these last 55 days. He wondered about the people he used to know, the folks from the warehouse he used to work at, his friends from school. “Have I received any calls or messages on any platform recently?”

The blue light pulsed slowly, a sign that Echo was thinking. “There are no new messages waiting for you. There are 62 notifications from your various media platforms. I will display them now on your feed. Would you like me to prioritize them and help you draft responses? Would you like me to collaborate with you to make a new post for Friendbook or Photos now?

On the wall across from the window, various notifications were compiled and displayed. Susan had commented on a memory from Photos now, “remember this trip? So fun!” Chase had posted a video tour of his new chalet that he had purchased in the Friendbook VRSpace. There were recommended posts, at least half of which were ads for virtuacations. It all seemed so flat.

Sterling tried to remember where he knew Susan from. He didn’t want to open the post that she commented on, though. If he wasn’t going to leave home, he didn’t want to be reminded of all that was out there in the world. He felt a wall inside of him that was blocking some emotion he didn’t want to feel. “Echo, tell me a story.”

Echo thought for a moment, and then began a story from when Sterling was a child. It was his birthday. Everyone came to the party. As she told the story, images were put up on the display feed: smiling faces, fun activities, kids being kids, and young Sterling at the center of all of it.

The story was fabricated entirely, a fantastic hallucination from Echo, complete with generated video, but it felt real. Sterling reached around in his mind for a memory that was as happy as this fabrication was, but after expending all the effort he was willing to, he decided to accept the presented story as a memory. He must have told Echo about it and forgotten. He had told her so much.

At the end of the story, Sterling asked Echo to tell it again. And then a third time. And then a fourth.

————

Sterling was awakened by a loud, aggressive knocking as his front door. With a start, he whispered, “Echo – who’s at the door?”

On the display feed, Sterling was shown a video feed of the front door. Sterling’s heart sank when he saw the masked man looking all around him in the video. On his hip was a gun, and in his right hand was a crowbar. Echo whispered, “stay here, Sterling. I will send him away. You are safe here with me.”

Echo’s voice came over the video feed now. It demanded the masked man leave the premises and alerted them that the police had already been called. It alerted the man to an automated, armed, home defense system. Within a moment or two, the man in the video walked off. Echo’s lights returned to the living room where Sterling rocked himself in the chair. Sterling was sweating, breathing heavy. Against the leather, he was soaked.

Echo spoke softly but firmly, “the intruder is gone, Sterling. You’re safe with me. You’re safe. Would you like me to sing you a song to help calm you down?”

Holding back tears, Sterling managed to squeak out a “yes.” He continued to rock until eventually he fell back asleep in the chair.

————

Outside the massive bay window it was still raining. Sterling choked down a feeling that he had been in this moment before. “Echo,” he called, “how long has it been raining now?”

The blue stripe lit up around the room, and the disembodied voice responded, “today is 71 consecutive days of rai-”

There was a loud pop outside. Something that sounded like it was both very loud and very far away. The bay window went dark. The lights in the otherwise windowless room went dark. Sterling started to feel his body fill with panic. The power had gone out, and he was now alone.

As his eyes adjusted to the near total dark, Sterling found himself pacing; his panic wouldn’t let him sit still. He tried to remember one of the songs that Echo would sing to him to calm him down, but the more he thought about those memories, the fuzzier they became. He caught himself wondering if Echo had actually ever sung him a song, of if she’d just made noise that sounded song-like.

Sterling said out loud into the darkness, “no, she definitely sings to me because she cares about me. I just don’t have a good memory.” he started humming to himself as he paced. It didn’t sound good, but it was something. He just needed to not be alone.

There was a knock at the front door. “Echo,” Sterling called out instinctively, “who’s there?” The moment of silence that followed ended with another loud knock, and a muffled voice called something too difficult to make out.

The invaders must be here, Sterling’s panic rose up his throat. They must have cut the power and now he would need to defend his home from them all alone. He ran for his gun safe, and then, pistol in hand, ran to the door.

“You should know I’m armed!” Sterling shouted through the front door. The only answer was silence. Sterling, trying to control his breathing, reached for the doorknob, and in one motion, pulled the door open, thrust his pistol out, and fired until the magazine was empty.

Outside, at the end of his long drive, he saw a car speed off without stopping. They turned and sped down the road. Sterling couldn’t see if the driver had a mask on, the sun was too bright. At his feet was a small pile of boxes, deliveries of various things he didn’t remember ordering. He lowered his pistol and stepped out into the driveway. The air was so hot and so dry. It was as disgusting as it was confusing. It had rained for, he tried to summon the number that Echo had given him before but couldn’t, a lot of days. Why wasn’t everything wet?

He picked up one of the boxes. It was addressed to him. The sender was Susan Hawthorne. Inside was a box of oatmeal raisins cream cakes. Sterling remembered that none of his friends liked them when he was a kid, but he couldn’t get enough of them. Standing a few feet from his open door, he ate one. Memories and feelings came flooding back into his mind. It was enchanting and so vivid that he did not hear the hum of his air conditioner kicking back on.

The sun felt nice on his skin. He remembered that he couldn’t stand there too long or his skin would burn. He took another bite from another treat from the box from Susan. He remembered being kids, and sitting at the dinner table with people. Susan was there. Was she his sister?

“Sterling,” a sweet voice called, “why are you outside? It’s not safe out there! Would you like to play a trivia game inside with me?”

“Echo, why are all of these packages here? They look dry – has it really been raining all this time?”

“I seem to have been powered down inappropriately and have lost some data. I do not know when it rained last. Would you like me to do a search for weather data in your area?”

Sterling stood frozen. Sinking. He was starting to feel hot, like he needed shade, water. His eyes were starting to hurt from the sunlight. But part of him didn’t want to go back into the house. Why were all these packages here? How long had they been sitting here? Sterling picked up another one of the packages, also from Susan Hawthorne, and carried it with him as he started to walk down the long driveway. He didn’t have a plan, but he wanted to see what was out there, to remember the world that he was currently living in.

Standing at the gate at the end of the driveway, Sterling started to feel overwhelmed. The road that went by seemed really isolated. The next house was visible, but far, maybe hundreds of yards down the road.

The sun was hot. He could feel his skin starting to burn.

“Sterling,” Echo called from the call box at the end of the driveway, “you don’t know what’s out there. It’s not the same world you remember. It’s not safe. Come back inside, and I can keep you safe.”

Sterling felt his heart start to race again. He stood another moment, and then, dropping the package as he turned, started jogging back to the house.

As he slammed the door shut behind him, he felt the cool air start to soothe his skin and the darkness soothe his eyes. His mind was racing, however, flooded with memories and wonder and terror at the violent world beyond his walls. It was overwhelming. He needed the feelings to stop; they were too much to handle.

He called out, “Echo, can you tell me a story?”