Recovery Life

By Rose Pierson

Welcome to Recovery Life, what we offer is immortality.

At this flagship of the American high-tech industry, users are flocking to the Grail. Emma, a thirty-year-old living in Boston, is about to enter one of their laboratories.

The desire to escape the race of time is in her blood. If Recovery Life fulfills its promises, the world in 2065 is at a standstill. Societies are breathing on the embers of their agony and a war is about to break out...

What is the link between this technology and an unprecedented world war?

How will Emma find herself in the middle of a conflict she knows nothing about?

This novella was entered in a literary contest and came in first place. Discover the story that captivated 4000 pairs of eyes!
Come and shake the arrow of time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Aug 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667411514

Book preview

Emma

"Start the year 2065 with Recovery life! What we offer you is immortality. »

I leave the metro and its swarming train when the video ends. No one can escape their ubiquitous publicity. The expansion of this company has not been matched over the past decade. This aggressive communication allows them to be present on all media, social networks, on every screen. Recovery Life evokes the renewal of American technological power. I settle into my desk, my seat squeaking, adding an annoying screech to the surrounding hubbub. Annalize, my colleague and friend for eight years, questions me with caution.

— Emma, ​​are you really going to do it?

— Five years of drastic savings. Yes I will do it !

The night operators have completed the haunting morning transmission. The lively forces replace the worn ones… In this monstrous open space of 300 m2, we do our best to take every emergency call diligently. The bells are already ringing. Erupting like anguished cries. Avalanches of calls for help. And this carries on throughout our morning of work until the hasty lunch break.

— Doesn't that scare you a little? adds my friend when we take our meal trays in the refectory. They have access to your whole life after the injection ...

I slide the plastic onto the rail. The rustles make the fine down on my forearms bristle. With a knot in my heart, I let go with the end of my lips:

— When Thomas died, I couldn't say goodbye to him. He never knew I was pregnant. That we have a son. If he had joined Recovery Life, we could still share our life.

— With a computer and an app ...

— With him. Because he would be in the cloud. He would have seen Stan when I returned from the maternity ward. When he took his first steps. When he said his first word. Thomas would still be there. How I want to be there for our Stan at every moment of his life.

She opens a soda without saying a word and nods in annoyance. The escaping gas will be the only noise disturbing the meal's silence. We will not exchange another word until we leave the building. I go home. Ready to face the next day. Its promise of future and eternity.

Upon my arrival at the clinic in the early morning's pale light, I am warmly greeted. Around me are examination rooms. Machines echo their discordant sounds to the heartbeats rhythms of other users. A woman sits me down on a beige leather armchair.

— I'm Caroll, she introduces herself. The care technician who will perform the injection. How do you feel today?

— Anxious and relieved at the same time.

She gives me a benevolent look while trying to open each sterile bag to uncover the syringes and needles.

— I will put these sensors on your chest and your head. Did the doctor explain the procedure to you? She checks as she brushes the brown strands off my forehead.

I just nod my head. Hypnotized by the neon of silver light in front of my eyes. The sweet jazz melody which I hear is muted.

— Will I be in pain? I ask in a voice betraying the intense emotion overwhelming me.

— We are in the order of nanotechnology. She reassures me, showing me the little midnight blue capsule. The needle is an intra-dermal one. Take a look.

She rolls the treatment cart up to my hips. The needles are tiny. I was however not talking about the pain of the injection. Rather of the deployment of this chip. She understands that easily.

— When it settles on your nerve fibers you won't feel anything at all. No electric shock. No muscle tension. No migraine. In a few days, you will even forget its existence by resuming your daily routine ...

She breaks the capsule with a sharp gesture between her fingers. She looks like a seasoned professional who knows her stuff well. I sink into the seat. Totally at peace. The sensors broadcast nuances of my heartbeat. A constant beep. Effortlessly. Barely excited about the situation. The relaxant taken before leaving my apartment does its work. I notice the television in the guard room. I focus on the diffuse voice of the presenter. A very thin stream of voice.

Our president has for the moment refused any preliminary discussion with a view to technological sharing, arousing the anger of other countries. In retaliation, various states have dismissed our American ambassadors. And the European and Russian federations have affirmed their desire to deprive our federation of space expansion by destroying our European launch bases.

— Can I go? Caroll asks me as my eyes fall on her immaculate blouse again.

The syringe is ready. My EKG is going a little crazy.

— Yes, go on.

— There. She takes off her gloves. The latex snaps and rolls. You will be here for three hours. This is the usual charging time. You can close your eyes and rest. I will be by your side if needed. Would you like a drink?

— I have the impression that things are heating up ... here?

I point my index