Extinction 6

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AUSTIN awakes.

Another dream about Olivia.

He rubs his eyes and looks around his apartment—empty beer cans on a decrepit sofa, capped metal tubes where a refrigerator and stove once stood, an old desk with a pair of Vision smartglasses.

Olivia, where are you?

He rises out of bed and dons his jacket, rubbing his palms to warm himself. He reaches for the glasses and places them on his face.

“Isaac,” he says, his breath visible in the cold air, “Call Olivia.”

His A.I. replies through small speakers embedded in the smartglasses. “Austin, you told me to delete your ex-wife’s contact information four years ago.”

Austin stands at a window peering into San Francisco. “I need to speak with her, Isaac. I had another dream about her last night.”

“Are you feeling sad?”

“Yes.”

“Shall I contact your psychiatrist?”

“No, no need for that. I just want to speak with Olivia.”

“Your medical appointment is overdue. This may be why you feel sad.”

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