Sky burning the colors of aluminum and ash. A sight of sparks rising from twisted wires only to be silenced by shouts and curses. Yeah, that’s how the city was. It was as if we’d gone back in time pulling witches out of their homes again to set them on fire.

I draw at the cigarette and get lost in the mist that leaves my lungs. I hate the smell. The air recycler in the cafe comes online and sprays a hiss of fresh air, quite audibly too.

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t smoke here.” I hear the automated waiter tell me. It’s a holograph of a young girl with blonde hair. I don’t know whose brilliant idea it was to set the same cliché –young female college graduate- setting for the waiter. But it looks real. If I didn’t know for sure, I’d think it’s an actual human.

“Sure,” I smile and stub the cigarette out. What the hell. “Not smoking doesn’t kill, right?” I hear myself say.

The holographic girl smiles politely and nods. “Anything you want me to bring for you?”

I wait and think. Why am I here? Oh right.

“Two cups of coffee,” I say.

“Do you want a refill or two cups?”

“No, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Alright, then.” The waiter fades away slowly and I turn my face from her.

Outside, the riots are taking a leap. People are shouting in front of a wall of peacekeepers robots in riot gear. They’re just waiting for excuses to piss down boiled water on their heads with their brand new experimental drones.

Experiments are what brought out the riots. I’ve seen protests like these before. They start out with a few people voicing their strong opinions and before you know, everybody’s tearing each other a new one. Doesn’t take long for it all to just go away. For all I care they had a right to do it as long as they’d left me out of it. But these ones… they lack something, I can’t put my finger on it.

Thanks to the fully automated lines, no one needed a job anymore. Themis Station was the first place to put this economical doctrine to practice. Automated machines ran everything, so us humans could live freely twenty four seven. Some had too much free time on their hands. It made them think.

I think a lot. About my 69 Stingray back on Earth. Sometimes, I look out the window and see Earth spinning around itself and I just can’t get the images out of my head. I used to drive in that car night after night when I was fired from the publication. Funny, I haven’t drawn a single thing ever since.

“Does it scare you?” I remember Aricia had asked one time.

We were hotbox-riding through the anti-augmentation protests in the 69 on a main street, Aurora, east of Tokyo. She was relaxing beside me, her feet on the freshly waxed glovebox. I was pretty choosy over how others sat in the car. No touching allowed, specially the glovebox. The car was more than a century old and if it weren’t for the countless weekly adjustments by Cozy Clara, it would flat-out fall apart. But Aricia? She was different. She could sit in that car and do whatever she damn pleased and I wouldn’t ever bat an eye.

We met back on Sy-Fy J’s, where she worked. On days, she tended the bar and at nights, she was all over the place. Everyone wanted a piece of her, and she was more than happy to provide for all. I was unemployed and drained my savings day and night in that place. I was ready to go when she brought me back.

I seemed lost in the Synth-Pop music on the radio, but really, I was just buying time to come up with a clever answer. Something new. You’re so beautiful was too cheap, not me. The beat on the radio ended on a clattering stump of bass and the singer’s voice faded in gibberish. I shifted the gear and sped down the street. Just when I found my answer, a protestor lost his balance and fell on the street. I pushed the brakes so hard the tires whined outside and Aricia jumped on her seat.

“What happened?” She asked, gasping.

That was it. I lost the chance to give the clever answer I searched so hard for. It was gone.

“Nothing.” I sighed and shook my head. “Mobs jumping in front of the car.”

She relaxed back again and dropped her head. She was kind of a pacifist, you see. If it were peaceful protests with people gathering around and voicing their complaints, she wouldn’t be upset. But they were taking extreme measures and that clearly bothered her every time we were outside.

“I hope mom’s alright.” She said. “My sister called, said mom got herself some new upgrades. She sounds sixty but looks nineteen. Even younger than me. Pari says she’s gonna fix the voice too, another surgery.”

“Black clinics huh? Dangerous place.” I said. “Saw it on the news, some of the extremist assholes raided one of those places… horrible.”

“The stuff they use,” She leaned forward sitting on the edge. “it’s cutting-edge tech, right off Jupiter’s Orbit. Does wonders, you can fix yourself up however you want. Be your own sculptor. You know, I understand why they’d be against it. They’re controlling something that’s only in God’s power. Before we know, we’re shooting for the stars, out of our own system. Can you imagine a world like that? No one believing in God and his original plans and designs. It’ll all be arbitrary. You can negotiate everything.”

“Honey,” I said. “If the only thing that keeps a person sane is God and a reckoning day, then why even bother? We’ve come so far haven’t we? That means something. We’re our own gods. I’m sure if there was a God somewhere out there… we killed him.”

“That’s not the point.” She said.

“Then what is?”

“We can’t even live with our own minor differences. That’s written in our genes. I don’t think reaching new stars is going to change that. We’re not little boys in the dark at night, suddenly coming to an epiphany. New tech, reaching stars or being gods isn’t going to change who we really are. That’s what’s horrible. That’s what needs changing. It’s true, we’re not ready for whatever we are accomplishing.”

“So you’re also against augmentations?”

“The opposite, actually.” She turned her face toward the window, where a light breeze touched her face. “I think it’s exciting, but not every excitement is followed by happiness.”

I chuckled at that and she squinted her pale blind eyes. That was what I talked about. That was her original design. Banned from seeing the world because of what? Some invisible entity we couldn’t even wrap our heads around. And if she were to change that… some asshole on the streets had something to say about it. They’d go as far as killing her, stripping her naked of all dignity and placing her on a pyre.

Aricia was the kind of girl who bottled a lot of her emotions. But she didn’t know that I could read her face as much as she could read my voice. When something bothered her, I knew. It wasn’t that she was upset about the protests. It was about her. She wanted to change. She wanted to see so bad not because she hated the constant darkness she lived in –that was normal. She thought she wasn’t perfect. So she got thinking. More and more every day. And I know that parasite well enough. It leaches onto you and before you know, you’re crawling with it on the ground.

With the protests taking up the space on most streets, driving around Aurora wasn’t a bright idea. We holed up in my room on a hotel in the Plaza District and busied ourselves with sex and drugs. The odor and smell of sweat stiffened the air. The air freshener was broken and I had no intention of fixing it so I left one of the windows open instead. She laid naked on the bed, listening to magazines and I smoked by the window.

Heavy rain hit the window and deformed the view of the Metropolitan Plaza. With each wave of running droplets, the arcologies shifted and took new shapes like images in a kaleidoscope. The fractal towers and buildings standing in the rain like fortresses spawned from space. The view used to inspire me to draw. It was perfect. I never needed drugs or other stimulants to boost my creativity for drawing. The face of Aurora from my room was all I ever needed. But it never clicked after I was fired. I couldn’t see the perfection in it. The view I held of the city in my mind was maimed, crooked and malformed. It just wasn’t the same anymore.

I see Earth the same way now.

“Garret,” I heard Aricia call me. “Check this.”

I stubbed the cigarette and turned to see her. She laid on her stomach and held out her holoscreen, one earbud still in her ear.

“What is it?” I leaned over to grab the screen. She felt it and retracted her hand.

“Come here,” She tapped on the bed, her eyes staring aimlessly at the window beside me. “Read this.”

I sighed and took the screen. It was a written newsfeed filled with stories of protests and abroad news. The news wasn't happy. Everywhere you looked, you’d see something horribly going wrong. But somehow, the world kept on going.

“What about it?” I asked. There wasn’t anything special in there.

“Down the screen, read the ad.”

Ad. I threw my brows up out of instinct. No one read those!

“Are you reading yet?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Well? Read aloud.”

I got the whole idea from the moment she gave me the screen. I wasn’t a fool, I knew what it was about. So after a moment of hesitation I finally read it to her:

Makica Oculus Si6: Brand New Augmentation from Cyberantique

After reading the headline the image of a cybernetic eye, supposedly Oculus Si6, expanded and took the entire screen. It was an interactive image, I moved it around and looked at it from different angles. The image shifted between the Oculus Si6 in and out of an eye socket, demonstrating its natural aspects –even though it still bore the company logo all over the iris. The eye had all sorts of options. Custom iris color, recorder, direct magnifying and even access to search engines and the net-of-things. But what was important, what had forced Aricia to show me the ad, was a postscript in a smaller font.

*With ability to restore and fix visual impairments of all types

This was the cutting-edge tech she talked about. They could give her everything she never had. For a moment tears welled in my eyes. Was it true? Could she really see? Be that perfect image, that inspiration?

“No, this is bullshit.” I said and tossed the screen on the bed. “besides, we can never afford such a thing. Too expensive.”

“We can go with one,” She said and grabbed my hand as I was getting up to leave. “Garret, this is good news. I can finally see. You can draw me and I can see it, think about that. Everything will be better. You’ll get back to working.”

“We’ll find another way to get me working, Aricia. You’re already perfect. It’s not about you.”

She sat up with that. The dim light in the bedroom illuminated her smooth skin and she waved her brown hair around on her shoulder.

“You don’t really believe that.” She said in a serious tone. Before that she was soft and kind. Her face changed. I was afraid, she was right. “Garret I love you, I don’t want you to be sad when you look at me. I can feel your gaze sometimes. I know what goes in your mind, I can sense it in your words.”

“Honey—“ I started and sat back down in front of her on the temper foam bed, but she cut me off.

“Don’t,” She said with a soft voice again. “please, baby. Is this too much to ask? I’ll pay for it myself.”

I’m not gonna lie, she had me there. That word was my weak point. I could only smile and kiss her forehead.

That was why everyone at Sy-Fy J’s called her Aricia. That affection wasn’t just an act she was paid to provide. She bore the name of a butterfly and acted upon it. And that’s why I still remember her as Aricia and not Claire.

But her pale face faded quickly. I was back in the 69 Stingray, speeding down an empty alley in rain. The headlights were off and I slowly let the speed die too. The Corvette stopped and I killed the engine. I lowered the volume on the radio without turning my head. My eyes were dead focused on the street. I still couldn’t look at her.

The last thirty minutes had been the most intense and craziest times in my life. Everything we had worked for, everything we stood for was slipping away in manners of seconds and I could see my life flash before my eyes. I couldn’t even imagine how it was for her.

I leaned back and let my muscles relax. I should think this  through. My right hand was still stained with blood and it had left its marks on the steering wheel. Back then I didn’t think about the leather. To calm myself, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Smoke settled inside the car and I felt haunted in those hours past midnight.

I bought silence for as long as I could and avoided looking at her. It was wrong. It was all wrong. She didn’t even weep or squirm. The silence was suffocating. I finally decided it was time and turned my head, reaching out for her face with the back of my hand. Her hollow eyes were locked on the dashboard as she trembled. The morphine was short-lived and she was obviously in pain, but she didn’t say a word. I touched the surgical plates, left around her empty eye sockets. She withdrew her face at first but then let me feel them. Cold silent metal that bruised her skin. Blood ran down the sockets and dried on the chromatic plates.

Seeing my angel like that boiled my blood. They had taken away my city, my job and my inspirations. Now my love too? The heaviness of my rage was unbearable. I couldn’t contain it. I punched the steering wheel so hard I didn’t even feel the pain in my hand until moments later.

She twitched beside me and gathered herself. I knew she felt just as shameful as I did, but she was more scared than I was. My butterfly was scared.

“Cutting-edge tech!” I yelled, and that calmed me down a little. “look what they’ve done to you. This was wrong. We shouldn’t have done it. Everything was fine until we ruined it all. Congratulations, now we gotta live the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders.”

“Easy for you to say.” She whispered, clearly not meant for me to hear.

“What was that?” The yelling had helped. I already felt calmer. “It’s all on me now, isn’t it? Suddenly, I’m the bad guy.”

“That’s not what I said.” She couldn’t hold back anymore and burst to tears. But only blood flowed from her empty eyes. “You can’t even imagine how it is for me.”

“Actually, I do.” I sniffled and drew at the cigarette. “And you know what I realized? It’s better that way. It’s better not to see all this bullshit. To be immune to it all than let it drive you crazy. I wish I couldn’t see. I’d gladly make you a deal.”

“Well then we’re both greatly disappointed with our realities.”

She fell silent and whipped the blood tears away from her cheeks.

“Ah, son of a bitch.” I cursed. She thought I meant it at her, but it was for what I saw in the mirror.

Two men parked behind us. They were the same men we saw at the black clinic. The same men who killed the surgeon and took Aricia’s brand new Oculus eyes right there and then as she got them installed. They barged in, the three of them, with razors in hands. I lost it. I cut one of them open with a scalpel. The fact that only two of them sat in the car meant I had done the third one in. Dead. Reduced to a lump of meat.

“Fasten your seatbelt and sit sight, babe.” I told Aricia and adjusted my seat, pushing the ignition. For a moment I was going to stub the cigarette, but I stopped and left it on my lips.

“What is it?” She asked while locking the harness.

“Anti-Augment assholes.”

I shifted the gear in reverse and once Aricia’s seatbelt was locked, I pushed the pedal as hard as I could. The Stingray sped backwards, engine roaring in the rain. Before the other men had the chance to do anything, we hit them hard. Their car crumpled and went backwards a few meters, the hood popped out and flew like a piece of paper. I ruined the back of my 69. But that didn’t matter.

Their engine stalled and in the heavy rain they miserably crawled out of the car. The impact had taken its toll. That was my calling. I left the car and felt the rain against my skin. Aricia called me back but I decided to ignore her just once.

“Stay in the car.” was all I said.

The driver’s face was broken and bloodied. Miserable bastard crawled away trying to get away but he knew what was coming as well as I did. The other one had gone up to heaven right there after the impact. His ugly face was crushed on the windshield. I grabbed the crawling guy by his collar and dug my hand deep in his pocket. It wasn’t hard finding what I was looking for. The razor was still there with Aricia’s blood all over it. Just the sight of that crazed me.

I said nothing. He didn’t plead either. Just groaned in pain and crawled away when I let go of his collar. I stalled and took the rain in. He wasn’t going anywhere so I didn’t rush it.

“Garret, stop, please.” She said.

She hadn’t listened. I glanced at her and In that bleak senselessness for what felt like a lifetime but only passed as seconds, I saw the face of cosmos in the empty sockets of her eyes. A million stars glittering in the dark, returning faint glances at me. And they inspired me with their silent voices.

The guy was fainting by my feet. She wouldn’t even know. Everything was perfect. The rain, the man, the razor. Everything from that night was washed away by the rain. I was cleansed.

The horrors we faced that night faded away in a short time. We fixed her eyes a little while after that and to celebrate, dined at Sy-Fy J’s again. She looked her happiest that night. I couldn’t say whether it was because of the drugs, the drinks or sheer excitement of seeing the outside world for the first time. But she didn’t sit still for a moment and wondered about the shape of everything.

The new eyes cost us something extra. I decided to sell the car –its rear needed serious work- and pay for the debts. But the catch was… she would always have to wear glasses to hide the logos on her eyes. At least until the protests were over.

Back on the highway lamps and headlights raced in and out of view. All I could recognize was the brightness which paced past us. It urged me to push the Corvette to its limits. That was supposedly our last ride in the 69. I didn’t want to be left behind, so I turned the radio on and went with it. Aricia danced to the tune with her hands flying around and laughed. In those moments, when I saw her dance, something I had heard a long time ago came to my mind.

Those blessed with the name of butterflies are doomed to fly about a hopeless flame and burn with it.

The protests had taken a leap, but you could say everything was about to end. Police rolled out new tech to control the crowds but even with that, the streets were still filled with pyres and angry mobs blocking the way.

They didn’t have anything against us so they opened the way as I slowly drove through them. I could sense Aricia was unsettled, again, as soon as we were back on the streets. But behind those glasses no one would’ve seen her eyes.

I looked at her and then this idiot jumped on the hood out of nowhere. I pushed the brakes so hard, Aricia twitched on the seat and her glasses fell off. The guy gave me a glance and then stared at Aricia. He lost his balance and as he slid off the hood yelled, “Sinner!”

The crowd around the car turned at us, focusing their eyes on Aricia. I had enough, so I sped up and ran them over. I didn’t care if I hit one or ten. There was no way in hell I’d be trapped. They threw whatever they could at us. One guy sprayed the car red as we passed him. Just when I thought we were in the clear, out of nowhere came this long and narrow iron pole like a javelin. It came right through the windshield from the passenger side.

I left the car there in the alley. It was thrashed anyway, so I moved out.

That’s right… I’m on Themis Station, in a café waiting for her. The protests outside seem familiar but they’re empty, soulless and dead. No bonfires, no pyres and no poles coming through windows. Yeah, the answer to Aricia’s question came back to me now.

I wasn’t scared back then. But I am now. Not of Themis Station’s political climate. Not from the mobs and their bullshits. Not from the fact that it’s been six years and I haven’t drawn a single line. I’m only afraid of her.

Aricia is gone. I just remembered, she’s been gone for a long time.