I sat in my cushioned seat with my arms and legs encased to the elbows and to the knees in the comfort of the Neuro Tubes. My head is supported by a headrest and the control inputs plugged into data ports in the back of my head. I was in the loving embrace of my Everything Chair, or EC. It cradled my body as a loving mother would. I had a nice model, which was a sleek, smooth gray, and had 1 white plastic chair pedestal. It had two helper arms and four folded traveling legs, like a resting robotic centaur.

I never had to think about what my body needed. The EC fed me, helped me sleep, the black codpiece with a built-in catheter removed my waste. I never asked how the rest of my biological function was taken care of. The Neuro Tubes stimulated my sense of touch, enhanced the Virtual Reality system, and prevented muscle deterioration. The Data Inputs that were plugged into the lower right side of my skull, would allow me to control what was on the terminal, one of the best features of my EC. I was sold on the feature when they introduced it in an upgrade. Some folks actually had to vocally give a command, but my setup gave me more freedom. I could sit here being entertained or analyzing the data that was sent to me. Everything was as advertised. I worked for the Stilwell Corporation which was one of three Mega-Corporations. The System was provided by the Corporation. This network of connected resources was everything. It provided useful products, food replications, entertainment, and pleasures. All suited to me and what I wanted. The lifestyle, the perks, and all I had were provided by The System and my Corporation.

I was feeling warm, something that was unusual for me. The blue skintight Environ Suit was sluggish today. The EC was usually quick to respond to this type of discomfort. I must have waited a whole minute before the cooling air enveloped my body.

“Com,” I said.

“Com,” the feminine voice of System echoed. I’d chosen the voice, it was warm and comforting to me.

“Maintenance,”

“Maintenance,” the voice confirmed, “Maintenance has been notified.”

I watched the holographic images bounce around before me on my terminal. Followed by a flurry of corporate advertisements. The show I was consuming always fascinated me, the concept of going to off-world. I mean nothing ever went off-world, it was drones or off to Mars for retirement. I was far from that. It would be hard to give this up but once in a while, I wished I could be there among them. My mother always thought that I had an adventurous streak. She was afraid I would be a purist. Devoid of enhancements, shaming her status in this world. My parents bought me the best EC. The best education implants and eye augmentations that they could afford. I was not considered affluent growing up but look at me now. The eye augmentation makes analyzing data-efficient, plus it gives me an edge when gaming.

I used to dream, but the EC now dumps drugs into my system, not only helping me sleep but sleep peacefully. I remembered as a kid I had nightmares but now I only have darkness. Which I prefer. I am not even sure if I can dream anymore, or if I had dreams at all. Maybe to me, it is a concept that we all have in childhood, but maybe it never existed.

A red circle began to pulsate in the far corner of my screen. An alert made me aware that someone was trying to contact me.

“Com, Answer,” I commanded.

The avatar of my friend Robert bounced onto the screen. It was a cartoonish caricature of him. My avatar represented me well, at least I think it looks like me. I don’t think I have ever seen his face before or if that mattered. I have not seen a real face in many years. “Rico my man, it looks like we have a grudge match tonight,” Robert’s big-eyed, manic avatar spouted out.

“Whattaya mean,” I replied with a jovial tone.

“Theodore and Mackie have challenged us in Slaver,” Robert responded.

“Slaver? We totally kicked his ass last time.”

“That’s what I said, but he insisted.”

“Whatever, when?”

“Tonight at eight, Zeta 133 room 6.”

“Gotcha, Zeta 133 room 6.”

The game number appeared on the screen and then floated over to a task schedule on the bottom right.

“Right, see you in Slaver, and don’t be late this time,” Robert said as his Avatar waved and shrank into nothing.

“Right,” I replied.

My show started back up where I left off, I looked at the task appointment that I had created just for a second and my show paused.

“Do you wish to continue to watch?” System asked.

“Yes,” I replied as the show started again.

I needed to give my attention to the show. My Corporation and their sponsors demand that my attention be given or they could lock me out. I suppose that is fine, but I can get agitated if my mind wanders off. It’s ok though, I like it when the System dumps in a nice cocktail of remedies that soothe the agitation and send me instantaneously back to evenness.

The show ended as it always does, on a cliffhanger and a series of ads. The holographic images faded into nothing and I am left in silence. My eyes felt heavy and tired. The System helped me along with a sponsored sleep aid. I felt the drug enter my body and watched the sponsor as I started to drift off.

“This sleep period is sponsored by Ambtrex. Rest is the key, Ambtrex.”

I was startled by the door entry bell, I almost did not recognize the sound. My eyes blurred as I try to regain my composure. My EC instantly calmed me. It had been many years since I last had a visitor.

“Enter,” I said trying to shake off the deep sleep.

The door to the room slid open, my apartment was large considering how small others could be. I liked the space and the bright white plain walls. It felt like I had more room to breathe, but it came at a premium. Most people don’t care. They lose themselves in the virtual worlds, I like to look around once and a while, it makes me feel connected. My EC turned my body to face the open door. I could feel a rush of air and my Environ Suit made adjustments to my body temperature.

A man walked in, it was startling. He did not come in under power and was not in an EC, he was using his own limbs. He was, in fact, devoid of any augmentations of any kind, or that I could see. He had clothing, like I have seen in eBooks, the network or vaguely remember as a small child. Coordinated work pants, shirt, and boots. He stood upright and smiling. He held a large toolbox in one hand and a tablet in the other.

“Who?”

“Maintenance,” he replied, “Jon.”

I stared at him not sure what to say, I’d only seen purists in shows or the news.

“You are,” I stumbled over my words.

“I am, yes, a purist,” he replied with a smile. “Now according to this work order, it seems your Environ Suit is responding a bit slow,” he said as he reviewed the information on his Tablet.

“Yes,”

Jon walked over and crouched down at a panel by the back of my EC, he pulled a tool out of the toolbox. The room camera flickered on the screen in front of me so I could observe him at work. He opened the lower panel on my EC and started to scan the EC systems. The green optical beam shot out and made a connection to my EC.

“If you are a purist, then why do you work on machines?”

Jon stopped for a second and then looked around the EC and smiled.

"Good question, in fact, most folks just sit there with their mouths open. It is pretty simple really. I’m good at it and these things don’t fix themselves.”

“Do EC’s break often?”

“They have little things here and there, but they have so many fail-safes,” he replied as he started to look closer at his diagnostic device and then poked at the small screen that illuminated his face.

“Are all maintenance people purist?”

“No,” he said. He reached into the EC and tugged on something. “There are some, you know, equality for all, a program for my disabilities.”

“I’ve seen your type on the news, protesting.”

“My type?” He chuckled, “I think some folks don’t like the word “disabilities”.”

Jon put his diagnostic and tools back in his toolbox. He closed the panel on my EC and stood up.

“Well, that should do it, just a little fine-tuning,” he said dusting off his hands. “It looks like it’s been a few years since you left this structure.”

“Ah…yes, is that unusual?”

“No, just that this EC has traveling legs and they need to get used once and a while, maybe every few months,” he replied, “otherwise the joints could freeze up, or worse, require maintenance.”

“I guess I never thought about it.”

“Yep, no one ever does, use it or lose it,” he proclaimed. “Well I am off, and you have a nice day.”

“Thank you.”

He left my home, the door sliding shut behind him.

I sat in the silence of the room quietly thinking. My alert went off and my screen flickered to life.

“The System has detected that your thought centers are currently very active yet it detects no current activity with the System. Do you need a Med Check?”

“No,” I responded, “I would like to watch current events surrounding purists.”

The screen flickered and the daily news brought up images of purists protesting while being watched over by large spider-like armored police units. For the most part, it looked peaceful as I listened to the commentary.