TellTale - Click Agree

YOU: I have a meeting with Lindsay to open an account today. The lobby of the bank is filled with only a tulip in a glass vase of water. You're surrounded by the height of minimalistic design. The computer intercom you just spoke with now reads //One Moment Please...// YOU: Hello? The only door in the room swings open and you're invited by a professional young woman to follow her. She leads you towards another waiting room with some cheerful chatter but you're distracted by the life-sized promotional photos on the wall of new houses with moving trucks out front, families opening presents on Christmas morning; large, gorgeous weddings. The young woman asks you to wait right here and leaves you in a room the same style as before except now with a rose. You sit one chair away from HAYLEY a woman in her 70's. She leans over to you. HAYLEY: Quite the sales pitch they have. I think I made the best choice I could, coming here. YOU: Yes, that's right, isn't it? HAYLEY: My daughter insisted I open an account. Make sure everything is in order. YOU: She's thinking ahead. I wish I could have done the same for my dad. The woman's wrinkles smile. YOU: But we didn't have the money. So here I am. I'm doing it for my daughter. World's greatest dad, aren't I? You chuckle to yourself. HAYLEY: Oh, yes, we've made a good choice. But I must say they have quite the sales pitch. [[YOU: Are you ok?]] [[YOU: You already said that.]] [[You look down the other hallway...]]

YOU: Are you OK? HAYLEY: Oh, it's me. I'm so embarrassed. She puts on a brave smile. YOU: No, don't be. HAYLEY: I haven't been the same since I had to move to the residence. Some days are better than others. Other days... The old woman holds her breath. HAYLEY: I just want my daughter and grandkids to be remembered when I'm, you know. She taps herself on the side of the head. HAYLEY: Simple as that. YOU: I think they can help you. HAYLEY: When I was young it was enough to have all your posts on your phone. You hear your name being called from down the hall from the waiting room and wave goodbye to Hayley. [[You look down the other hallway...]]

YOU: You already said that. Hayley clutches her purse and looks away from you, tears welling in her eyes. HAYLEY: I'm waiting for my daughter. You roll your eyes and get up, tired of waiting. You look down the hall to see if there is anyone that could help speed things up. [[You look down the other hallway...]]

You click agree on both options. YOU: Anything else? Lindsay grins. LINDSAY: You're a rock star. I won't keep you waiting any longer. I'll take you through to the B.O.R. and you can meet the rest of the Memory Bank family. She walks you further into the building past a door labeled Bionic Operating. In the corner of the room, a vase containing a single sunflower sits lonely. The rest of the room is built on state of the art medical equipment. All of it here to support the operating chair in the middle. LINDSAY: This is Dr. Sanchez. He's the best in the biz and he'll be doing your nanochip today. SANCHEZ is no older than twenty-two with a flush complexion. He walks up close and shakes your hand. SANCHEZ: Thank you. Thank you so much for letting me operate on you today. It's going to be my pleasure. You look at the operating chair. It's a menacing, sturdy monster. By the look of it you sit chest first like a massage chair, your head clamped in place facing down. YOU: I'm eager to get it over with. SANCHEZ: I thank you. Lindsay thanks you. We're just so grateful to have you come aboard. Above the chair, mounted to the ceiling, is a narrow mechanical arm. The base of the arm is down then sharply up at the point. Sanchez wheels a small cart between you two. There are two things on it -- a long needle with most of its length the width of hair. Also, a Petri dish. SANCHEZ: Even though you can't see them, the nanochips are in this dish. Once you're under, the arm does all the microscopics; it distributes the nanos across your cortex - Voila! YOU: And when will you start the upload? SANCHEZ: The nanos begin to connect with your grey matter instantly, building old memories the best it can. Then, as soon as you start thinking we start uploading to the cloud! So beautiful? We're so lucky to have this opportunity. YOU: Do I go here? You point to the contraption that you can now see has restraints for your arms and legs. SANCHEZ: Yes, that would be so helpful. I'll secure you and put you under. When you wake up, you'll be in recovery and if Lindsay signs off, you'll be home in time for supper. [[YOU: I'll take a seat then.]]

You stare at her then turn the tablet over in your lap. YOU: I don't know about this. It's a bit out there, am I right? LINDSAY: That's OK. It's a big commitment but you know how you go here. Family. Your daughter. YOU: Uh huh. Your hands feel clammy. LINDSAY: And I don't need to remind you. The twenty-five thousand dollar deposit is non-refundable. YOU: Yes, sure, I know. I'm not going anywhere. Do you see me leaving? I need to go over it again though. Lindsay puts on a practiced grin. LINDSAY: Absolutely. Whatever you need. She pulls up your files on her screen and turns one of her monitors to you. LINDSAY: You've signed up for our Basic deposit account at Memory Bank. It's a tremendous value and our most popular plan. We'll nano you with the safest insertion equipment. We have surgeons and tech support on site to troubleshoot anything that goes wrong with your bionics. YOU: Standard stuff, right? LINDSAY: You know it! Any recollection storage is regulated by the Health and Human Services department. This provides standards for biological enhancement surgeries as well as handling sensory data of private citizens. Nothing is more important to us than keeping your uploaded memories secure and ready to access instantly. YOU: You store everything? LINDSAY: You see it, hear it, smell it or touch it. It's our job to file it away for you. Best part for you? Your benefits at work pay for forty percent of the upfront costs. [[You click agree.]] [[And the insurance?]]

You agree to the Account Contract only. YOU: I'm fine with this. I want my memories in the cloud. But what does this insurance policy cover? LINDSAY: I know what you mean. //Who wants to pay insurance? I'm never gonna use it.// I hope you don't. And between me and you, I'd be kicking up a fuss too because we're super-safe around here. But it protects you financially from memory hacks, loss of memory data in the cloud, nano disrepair and other incidentals. The only time you're not covered is for the surgery itself which you've willingly accepted risk for. YOU: But what if you know. You, like, scramble my brain? I've see it on my newsfeed. LINDSAY: These are alternative news outlets drumming up views. We sat with your family in this very office to go over the risks. Everything has risks. But the reward is that your memories literally last a lifetime. Her eyes widen and she grabs her phone to scribble that quote down. YOU: Quite the sales pitch. LINDSAY: I hope you're ready to continue. we need to start the procedure in the next twenty minutes. Click agree now. [[You click agree.]] [[You still don't agree.]]

You agree to the insurance policy only. You: Yes, yes, you're right I want my family to be covered. But I still don't get what I'm... getting. Lindsay puts on a practiced grin. LINDSAY: Absolutely. Whatever you need. She pulls up your files on her screen and turns one of her monitors to you. LINDSAY: You've signed up for our Basic deposit account at Memory Bank. It's a tremendous value and our most popular plan. We'll nano you with the safest insertion equipment. We have surgeons and tech support on site to troubleshoot anything that goes wrong with your bionics. YOU: Standard stuff, right? LINDSAY: You know it! Any recollection storage is regulated by the Health and Human Services department. This provides standards for biological enhancement surgeries as well as handling sensory data of private citizens. Nothing is more important to us than keeping your uploaded memories secure and ready to access instantly. YOU: You store everything? LINDSAY: You see it, hear it, smell it or touch it. It's our job to file it away for you. Best part for you? Your benefits at work pay for 40% of the upfront costs. [[You click agree.]] [[You still don't agree.]]

You take a seat and the last thing you remember if getting comfy in the face hole and drifting off. Your eyes hoist open and shut as you come back to the land of the living. But your view is that of spotless floor tiles. You can't move. Each word that comes out of your mouth is a slurred struggle. YOU: Can't move. Sanchez's sneakers run in front of you and he crouches down so that he is speaking to you eye to eye. SANCHEZ: Thank goodness you're alive. Please, don't try to move. You're tightly restrained and heavily sedated. YOU: What? SANCHEZ: My deepest apologies. Something went wrong with the insertion. The needle is still in your head. If you move, you die. You let out a sob. SANCHEZ: The nanos were applied but their circuitry malfunctioned. It inflamed your temporal lobe and cerebellum and stopped the needle from making a smooth exit. YOU: Now? SANCHEZ: I regret having to tell you this, but we don't have many options. I'm so sorry. Lindsay's high heels clacked into view but she doesn't crouch down to meet your eyes. Her voice booms from above you. LINDSAY: I think that's enough, Doctor. We at Memory Bank are sympathetic to your issue, but we have to act fast. It's in your best interest. If you expire in this chair, you and your family are not covered. You moan, helpless. LINDSAY: One, we remove the injector needle. You have a slim chance of survival and you and your family will claim ten million dollars from the insurance coverage -- we'll consider this settling out of court. Lindsay hands down a pink sheet of paper to Sanchez who takes it slowly. SANCHEZ: You have a fifteen percent chance to live after removal. I want you to know this. LINDSAY: Two, we sever the injector needle and sew you up. You won't be able to live long without assistance but your coverage will take care of that. Sanchez will also switch the passive connectors of the nanos on. Unfortunately, your family doesn't get paid since the coverage is spent on your health care and account maintenance. SANCHEZ: You will be in a vegetative state but re-living all of your memories over and over. Lindsay hands down a blue sheet. LINDSAY: look at the one you want to do. [[You look at the pink sheet.]] [[You look at the blue sheet.]]

Your teeth grind together and you use every guttural force you can muster. You: [[Save me!]]

You start to tear up. You can barely bring yourself to look at the sheet. Sanchez scrambles to his feet and [[your eyes close again.]]

You look down the hall and see another sharp looking woman headed down and she smiles at you. Her name is LINDSAY, she's thirty-six. LINSDAY: Great to see you! My favorite client! How are you? YOU: I'm here. Let's get rolling! LINDSAY: I'm glad you're excited! Honestly. That makes my life so much easier. Can you just say yes to everything from here on out? YOU: I can sure try, can't I? Lindsay bursts out an exaggerated laugh. LINDSAY: That's funny. But I love your attitude because we're always looking forward to new clients spreading the good word. YOU: Then straight to it, shall we? LINDSAY: You're all business today. I get it. Let's finish our agreements in my office and I won't hold you up from the B.O.R. She leads you through a row of small cubicles to her office and closes the door. Her office has a vase with a deep red snapdragon. She hands you a tablet with your personal details on it. LINDSAY: OK, that's all correct? Same address? Click Agree. You click a box that says Agree. Then another screen comes up with your finances. LINDSAY: Good? Click agree. You do. Then the screen asks you to agree to two things. Account Contract and Insurance Policy. LINDSAY: This is what we went over last month. Click Agree. [[You click agree.]] [[You don't agree to either.]] [[You agree to the Account Contract only.]] [[You agree to the insurance policy only.]]

YOU: And the insurance? LINDSAY: I know what you mean. //Who wants to pay insurance? I'm never gonna use it.// I hope you don't. And between me and you, I'd be kicking up a fuss too because we're super-safe around here. But it protects you financially from memory hacks, loss of memory data in the cloud, nano disrepair and other incidentals. The only time you're not covered is for the surgery itself which you've willingly accepted risk for. YOU: But what if you know. You, like, scramble my brain? I've see it on my newsfeed. LINDSAY: These are alternative news outlets drumming up views. We sat with your family in this very office to go over the risks. Everything has risks. But the reward is that your memories literally last a lifetime. Her eyes widen and she grabs her phone to scribble that quote down. YOU: Quite the sales pitch. LINDSAY: I hope you're ready to continue. we need to start the procedure in the next twenty minutes. Click agree now. [[You click agree.]] [[You still don't agree.]]

You still don't agree. YOU: OK, ya, exactly, this sounds all good, doesn't it. But what good is it if you squirt that stuff in my head and my brain oozes out of my eyes?! Lindsay cringes. LINDSAY: You're being ridiculous. We are a medical facility run by trained professionals. You're being morbid. I don't know why you're acting like this. You were a rock star when you walked in here. You don't flinch. She shakes her head and speaks in a quite but firm tone. LINDSAY: Worst case scenario, in the case of accidental death your benefits triple and your family is awarded joint access to your memories. YOU: Joint access LINDSAY: Well, yes, that's part of the corporate subsidy. If something were to //happen// to you after the surgery, joint access would be awarded to your family, your work and the Health and Human Service department. The only time you're not covered is for the surgery itself which you've willingly accepted risk for. Now if you're done raining on this meeting. Please click agree. [[You click agree.]] [[You walk out.]]

You take a deep breath and jolt yourself out of your chair and to your feet then dart out of the office. You turn your head one way and then another, then head back towards the waiting room. Lindsay stands in the doorway with her arms crossed. LINDSAY: I'll price match if Rekall is giving you a better offer. You speed-walk back to the waiting room and see that Hayley hasn't moved an inch. [[You race by her.]] [[YOU: You still waiting?]]

You race by her, getting out of there as fast as you can. You burst through the door into the tulip room where a woman is standing, telling the intercom she's here for her Memory Bank orientation. You lock eyes with her and, without a word, dash out the door. The city noise attacks your senses once you walk out to the sidewalk. But a moment later it's a familiar, comforting din. Your mobile phone rings in your pocket and you tap your earlobe to answer it as you stroll into a massive downtown crowd. The street fills with business people wearing tech. Kids wear augmented reality headsets. The skies are littered with drones and written across the tallest skyscrapers are the names of corporate giants - Memory Bank, Rekall and Tyrell Corporation. The End Craig Morrow [email protected] 647-286-7548

YOU: You still waiting? HAYLEY: As far as I know. YOU: Want to get out of here with me? She gets up, tucks her purse under one arm and puts her other arm out for you to steady her. HAYLEY: I'll come back next week. You take a look behind you but no one is chasing. You stroll down the hall of photos with her on your arm. YOU: Next week, you say? HAYLEY: My daughter makes me come here every couple of weeks. She hopes I'll get the surgery. She screws her face. HAYLEY: But I don't want it. It's too risky. Poking around my mind. You open the door and walk through into the tulip room with where a woman is standing, telling the intercom she's here for her Memory Bank orientation. You both nod good day to her and continue to the exit. YOU: I didn't like what they had to offer. I thought I liked it before but - She waves her hand in the air and interrupts you. HEYLEY: Right now, I know my grandson and I love him. There's no insurance that can cover that. If I lose my mind tomorrow, I guess it's my time. YOU: Sure, ya but - She buds in again. HAYLEY: Everyone these days wants to live for the future. I know I sound like an old bag, full of wind, but my mom used to say there's no time like the present. The door to a futuristic metropolis opens up in front of you. The End Craig Morrow [email protected] 647-286-7548

A small den in the back of a tiny bungalo is almost completely overcrowded by a hospital bed. Screens attached to medical equipment show a constant array of statistics as tubes run into your arm, temple and chest. On the other side of the bed is the only other piece of furniture that fits - a carved wooden chair. On the seat of the chair are two current magazines and, on top of that, a novel with the bookmark placed about half way through and, on top of that, a layer of dust. The End Craig Morrow [email protected] 647-286-7548

An emergency medical team of three stands around the operation chair, their hands in their pockets or occupied by holding equipment. The mechanical arm is retracted high above their heads, ready for another new patient. They make way for a man who flashed a badge and a man in rubber gloves to get a good view. Blood flows slowly and thick from your tear ducts and nose down to your upper lip where it hangs and then dribbles to the solidifying puddle underneath your head. Lindsay stands in the doorway with her arms crossed. LINDSAY: Sanchez, go home. Everybody go home. She turns to leave herself. LINDSAY: And somebody get that lady out of my waiting room. The End Craig Morrow [email protected] 647-286-7548