When I return to consciousness at last, my mind is clear and I finally feel confident enough to test the results of yesterday’s implant. One of the most important features of Nexima is that it appears completely passive to the user. It might prompt you if somebody wishes to communicate, but it will only do so when it has been cleared to disturb you and will never normally initiate any process without you asking.

Actually, the police and government agencies have an emergency override, but you’ll be grateful for that if it is ever needed.

Also, there is a ridiculously simple, but necessary first-time procedure to get a new user started. I was given a leaflet yesterday at the hospital and had plenty of time to study it with Tasha as we rode back to Ramsey together. We’d gone down into the capital after the clinic, Tasha insisting that I needed something ‘nice’ to wear for the party. It had turned into a day out for the two of us and I had enjoyed myself and bought a new shirt.

Okay, enough procrastination, let’s just do this.

<Nexima, begin initialisation.> I think, almost as if forming the words to type on a screen.

<System ready. Good morning, Mister Quilliam. Would you like to customize your personal interface?>

The voice appears to come from just beside me and is calm and neutral, neither sounding male or female. Each implant is already tailored to the new user and knows details about the person it is being implanted into, so hearing my name is no surprise.

<Yes, please continue.>

<Thank you. Do you have a preferred form of address that you would like me to use?>

<Call me Nick.>

The sensation of thinking your words is a strange one, but not difficult to master. I’ve seen that momentary blank expression on my brother’s face enough times to know that it’s because he’s interacting with his Nexima and I’m pretty sure that’s just how I look right now.

<Thank you, Nick. You can call me Nexima, or if you prefer, you can specify any name you wish and I will respond to that as well. If you wish to modify my vocal parameters, you can do that too.>

<Nexima will be fine, thank you. Could you use a more feminine voice though?>

<Is this better, Nick?>

<Yes, that’s perfect Nexima.>

I knew this would be easy, but it’s actually mind-bogglingly simple.

<Nexima, how do I make a new contact and talk to them?>

<Is the person in the room with you?>

<No, It’s my friend Tasha Reid. She received her Nexima yesterday as well.>

<Is this her?>

An image of Tasha appears, almost as if someone is holding up a photo in front of me. It’s her school identity image from her student ID.

<Yes. Am I able to send her a message?>

<Do you wish to send a text message or do you want to speak to her?>

<Oh, just a text. Send ‘Hey Tash, it works!’ please.>

<Message sent.>

Okay, this is truly amazing. I know that it’s really the power of the Mesh and machine learning that makes the interface so smooth and natural, but it really does feel just like talking to a real person. I’ve only just started and already I’m wondering how I managed without it.

I get out of bed and head towards my bathroom. I need to brush my teeth and I made enough of a mess of myself earlier that I definitely need a shower. I’m just applying a little shampoo to my hair when there’s a very weird interruption.

<Nick, you have a voice call from Tasha Reid.>

<Oh, please put her through.>

“Nick, are you there?”

“Yes Tasha. This is absolutely awesome. You sound as if you are standing right here, which is more than a bit weird as I’m in the shower!”

“How did you know how to send me a message? How do I get the right person?”

“Oh, I just asked. When I gave your name and said we were school friends, the AI simply figured it out and pulled your ID photo to check. Nexima also said something about it being easier if we were with the person. Something like exchanging business cards, I guess. You’re the only person I’ve tried so far.”

“Okay, sounds simple enough. I’ll need to set a few up and try with my parents. Do you want me to pick you up for the party later?”

“That’s sounds great Tash, I’ll see you just before seven?”

“Okay Nick. See you later. Nexima, end call.” My inner ear falls silent as the call ends.

<Nexima, can I assign a nickname to a contact?>

<Yes, just tell me who the contact is and what nickname you wish to use. I’ll refer to them with that name from now on and respond to it as well.>

<Excellent. Can you refer to Tasha Reid as Tash please.>

<Yes Nick, that’s recorded for you.>

I finish my morning routine in silence, drying myself with a soft fluffy towel and shaving carefully with an electric razor. From the moment I got the first hint of a moustache, a couple of dark wispy hairs on my top lip, I hated it. I cornered my dad almost immediately and practically ordered him to get me a razor.

Naturally, he laughed at me, or more precisely at my consternation but there was a small box on my dresser that evening. I’ve shaved every morning ever since and use a tiny amount of a soothing balm afterwards, my only care product apart from shampoo and body wash.

As I started to develop hair in other places, I similarly disliked the unruly growth of long wispy hair under my arms and around my penis. I soon acquired a trimmer and now keep myself much tidier.

With school now finished forever, I dress casually, intending to spend the day around the house before getting ready for the party later.

<Nexima, can I create another contact please?>

<Of course, Nick. Who is it you need to add?>

<My mother, Maureen Quilliam at this address. Record the contact as Mum please.>

<Contact created. Do you want me to do the same for your father and brother?>

<Oh, yes please. Record them as Dad and Sam.>

<All done, Nick.>

<Message Mum, ‘Is there any breakfast left?’>

<The reply is ‘Yes, about time you got out of bed!’>

Seriously, how did I ever manage to navigate life without this.

Feeling unusually hungry, I eat most of what is left from breakfast, several pieces of toast and some bacon. After all that has happened in the last fifty years or so, most of the planet is now primarily vegetarian, although there is still some rearing of animals for meat, it is far rarer than it used to be.

The Isle of Man once had thousands of sheep, pigs and cattle and tens of thousands of chickens, but now there are almost none. Large mammals are pretty thin on the ground. There are a few wild goats and a substantial population of wallabies that escaped from a wildlife park more than a hundred years ago. With no natural predators they thrive and have spread throughout the island. The fields, however, are now almost exclusively used for the production of grain, fruit and vegetables.

So, yes, I had bacon for breakfast, but the relationship between what I was eating and a pig is a very tenuous one. Fundamentally, most of the ‘meat’ that we eat is either synthetic vegetable protein, vat-grown meat or a mixture of the two. I have actually had real, naturally reared meat a couple of times, but I found it a little too coarse-textured for my palette, even though it tasted amazing.

We do eat a lot of fish and shellfish, most of it grown in massive offshore farms where the enclosing nets are many kilometres across; huge floating islands powered by wind turbines allow the sea to be incredibly productive. Algae seeding, part of the massive push to reverse the effects of climate change by converting carbon dioxide back into vegetable matter now generates much of the phytoplankton that is the primary source of food for these fish, prawns, crabs and lobsters.

I spend much of the day experimenting with my Nexima, finding out what she can do and adding a number of contacts to my list. There are several school friends to add, maybe fewer than I should, and quite a few relatives that also need to be contacted at least once. My grandparents would never forgive me if I left any one of them out.

While voice chatting with Jack who is similarly lazing about, he explains how to start a video stream. As soon as I accept the request, I’m seeing through is eyes as he looks around his bedroom. The image is deliberately slightly grainy, ostensibly to make it clear to the recipient that it isn’t your own true vision. With a simple thought-command I can make it appear in only one eye or shrink down into a window-like box.

“Apparently, it won’t go full-view if you are walking or anything,” Jack tells me as we drop back to just voice. “Makes sense, or you’d walk into a lamp-post or someone.”

“I’m not sure how useful it is though. It’s amazing and it looks like it could be fun, but unless you need help with something that you can’t describe, I don’t really see the point.”

“Yeah, Nick, I see your point but…”

“But what?”

“Well, there are places where you can get first person feeds, you know, porn feeds.” Even though we are communicating electronically his voice dropping down to a whisper is readily apparent. “My uncle told me about them. They’re amazing.”

“Oh, you wanker!”

“Well, yeah, of course I am, but wow!”

“Okay, changing the subject now. Are you going to the party later?”

“Of course. I heard that you are too. Good for you.”

“Yeah, Tasha told me I needed to be more social, it would help my anxiety issues.”

“She’s right. She’s almost always right. She’s one of the best, just always seems so aloof. I hope you both have a good time.”

“Jack?”

“What Nick?”

“Do you… Do you like Tasha? You know, in a romantic way?”

“Well… Oh fuck! Yes, yes, I think I do. But she’s your friend and I thought you might like her too. She would never talk to me.”

“Oh shit! Jack, I’m sorry. There’s nothing like that between Tasha and I.  She’s my best friend and that’s all. You should talk to her at the party, tell her that you like her. She’s never said anything, but she does talk kindly about you sometimes, well, kinder than she does about most boys.”

“So, you don’t like her like that?”

“No Jack, I don’t. Look, I should have told you this a long time ago, years ago. Well, I wanted to have some secrets of my own. I didn’t even tell Tasha until last week, but I’m gay.”

“Oh, I thought you just weren’t interested in dating. I don’t think I would have guessed your orientation. Fancy anyone I know?”

“No. You were right about the disinterest. I think I’m at the very least grey-aromantic. Before you ask, yes, I’m fine with it!”

“Do you want any help finding someone?”

“No. If I meet someone, then all well and good, but I’m more concerned about deciding on work at the moment.”