David Marusek - The Wedding Album

VIP免费
2024-11-24 0 0 115.16KB 37 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
The Wedding Album by David Marusek
Anne and Benjamin stood stock still, as instructed, close but not touching, while the simographer
adjusted her apparatus, set its timer, and ducked out of the room. It would take only a moment,
she said. They were to think only happy happy thoughts.
For once in her life, Anne was unconditionally happy, and everything around her made her
happier: her gown, which had been her grandmother’s; the wedding ring (how cold it had felt
when Benjamin first slipped it on her finger!); her clutch bouquet of forget-me-nots and
buttercups; Benjamin himself, close beside her in his charcoal grey tux and pink carnation. He
who so despised ritual but was a good sport. His cheeks were pink, too, and his eyes sparkled
with some wolfish fantasy. "Come here," he whispered. Anne shushed him; you weren’t supposed
to talk or touch during a casting; it could spoil the sims. "I can’t wait," he whispered, "this is taking
too long." And it did seem longer than usual, but this was a professional simulacrum, not some
homemade snapshot.
They were posed at the street end of the living room, next to the table piled with brightly
wrapped gifts. This was Benjamin’s townhouse; she had barely moved in. All her treasures were
still in shipping shells in the basement, except for the few pieces she’d managed to have
unpacked: the oak refectory table and chairs, the sixteenth-century French armoire, the cherry
wood chifforobe, the tea table with inlaid top, the silvered mirror over the fire surround. Of
course, her antiques clashed with Benjamin’s contemporary-and rather common-decor, but he
had promised her the whole house to redo as she saw fit. A whole house!
"How about a kiss?" whispered Benjamin.
Anne smiled but shook her head; there’d be plenty of time later for that sort of thing.
Suddenly, a head wearing wraparound goggles poked through the wall and quickly surveyed the
room. "Hey, you," it said to them.
"Is that our simographer?" Benjamin said.
The head spoke into a cheek mike, "This one’s the keeper," and withdrew as suddenly as it had
appeared.
"Did the simographer just pop her head in through the wall?" said Benjamin.
"I think so," said Anne, though it made no sense.
"I’ll just see what’s up," said Benjamin, breaking his pose. He went to the door but could not grasp
its handle.
Music began to play outside, and Anne went to the window. Her view of the garden below was
blocked by the blue-and-white-striped canopy they had rented, but she could clearly hear the
clink of flatware on china, laughter, and the musicians playing a waltz. "They’re starting without
us," she said, happily amazed.
"They’re just warming up," said Benjamin.
"No, they’re not. That’s the first waltz. I picked it myself."
"So let’s waltz," Benjamin said and reached for her. But his arms passed through her in a flash of
pixelated noise. He frowned and examined his hands.
Anne hardly noticed. Nothing could diminish her happiness. She was drawn to the table of
wedding gifts. Of all the gifts, there was only one-a long flat box in flecked silver wrapping-that
she was most keen to open. It was from Great Uncle Karl. When it came down to it, Anne was
both the easiest and the hardest person to shop for. While everyone knew of her passion for
antiques, few had the means or expertise to buy one. She reached for Karl’s package, but her
hand passed right through it. This isn’t happening, she thought with gleeful horror.
That it was, in fact, happening was confirmed a moment later when a dozen people-Great Uncle
Karl, Nancy, Aunt Jennifer, Traci, Cathy and Tom, the bridesmaids and others, including Anne
herself, and Benjamin, still in their wedding clothes-all trooped through the wall wearing
wraparound goggles. "Nice job," said Great Uncle Karl, inspecting the room, "first rate."
"Ooooh," said Aunt Jennifer, comparing the identical wedding couples, identical but for the
goggles. It made Anne uncomfortable that the other Anne should be wearing goggles while she
wasn’t. And the other Benjamin acted a little drunk and wore a smudge of white frosting on his
lapel. We’ve cut the cake, she thought happily, although she couldn’t remember doing so. Geri,
the flower girl in a pastel dress, and Angus, the ring bearer in a miniature tux, along with a knot of
other dressed-up children, charged through the sofa, back and forth, creating pyrotechnic
explosions of digital noise. They would have run through Benjamin and Anne, too, had the adults
allowed. Anne’s father came through the wall with a bottle of champagne. He paused when he
saw Anne but turned to the other Anne and freshened her glass.
"Wait a minute!" shouted Benjamin, waving his arms above his head. "I get it now. We’re the
sims!" The guests all laughed, and he laughed too. "I guess my sims always say that, don’t they?"
The other Benjamin nodded yes and sipped his champagne. "I just never expected to be a sim,"
Benjamin went on. This brought another round of laughter, and he said sheepishly, "I guess my
sims all say that, too."
The other Benjamin said, "Now that we have the obligatory epiphany out of the way," and took a
bow. The guests applauded.
Cathy, with Tom in tow, approached Anne. "Look what I caught," she said and showed Anne the
forget-me-not and buttercup bouquet. "I guess we know what that means." Tom, intent on
straightening his tie, seemed not to hear. But Anne knew what it meant. It meant they’d tossed
the bouquet. All the silly little rituals that she had so looked forward to.
"Good for you," she said and offered her own clutch, which she still held, for comparison. The real
one was wilting and a little ragged around the edges, with missing petals and sprigs, while hers
was still fresh and pristine and would remain so eternally. "Here," she said, "take mine, too, for
double luck." But when she tried to give Cathy the bouquet, she couldn’t let go of it. She opened
her hand and discovered a seam where the clutch joined her palm. It was part of her. Funny, she
thought, I’m not afraid. Ever since she was little, Anne had feared that some day she would
suddenly realize she wasn’t herself anymore. It was a dreadful notion that sometimes oppressed
her for weeks: knowing you weren’t yourself. But her sims didn’t seem to mind it. She had about
three dozen Annes in her album, from age twelve on up. Her sims tended to be a morose lot, but
they all agreed it wasn’t so bad, the life of a sim, once you got over the initial shock. The first
moments of disorientation are the worst, they told her, and they made her promise never to reset
them back to default. Otherwise, they’d have to work everything through from scratch. So Anne
never reset her sims when she shelved them. She might delete a sim outright for whatever reason,
but she never reset them because you never knew when you’d wake up one day a sim yourself.
Like today.
The other Anne joined them. She was sagging a little. "Well," she said to Anne.
"Indeed!" replied Anne.
"Turn around," said the other Anne, twirling her hand, "I want to see."
Anne was pleased to oblige. Then she said, "Your turn," and the other Anne modeled for her, and
she was delighted at how the gown looked on her, though the goggles somewhat spoiled the
effect. Maybe this can work out, she thought, I am enjoying myself so. "Let’s go see us
side-by-side," she said, leading the way to the mirror on the wall. The mirror was large, mounted
high, and tilted forward so you saw yourself as from above. But simulated mirrors cast no
reflections, and Anne was happily disappointed.
"Oh," said Cathy, "Look at that."
"Look at what?" said Anne.
"Grandma’s vase," said the other Anne. On the mantle beneath the mirror stood Anne’s most
precious possession, a delicate vase cut from pellucid blue crystal. Anne’s great-great-great
grandmother had commissioned the Belgian master, Bollinger, the finest glass maker in
sixteenth-century Europe, to make it. Five hundred years later, it was as perfect as the day it was
cut.
"Indeed!" said Anne, for the sim vase seemed to radiate an inner light. Through some trick or glitch
of the simogram, it sparkled like a lake under moonlight, and, seeing it, Anne felt incandescent.
After a while, the other Anne said, "Well?" Implicit in this question was a whole standard set of
questions that boiled down to-shall I keep you or delete you now? For sometimes a sim didn’t
take. Sometimes a sim was cast while Anne was in a mood, and the sim suffered irreconcilable
guilt or unassuagable despondency and had to be mercifully destroyed. It was better to do this
immediately, or so all the Annes had agreed.
And Anne understood the urgency, what with the reception still in progress and the bride and
groom, though frazzled, still wearing their finery. They might do another casting if necessary. "I’ll
be okay," Anne said. "In fact, if it’s always like this, I’ll be terrific."
Anne, through the impenetrable goggles, studied her. "You sure?"
"Yes."
"Sister," said the other Anne. Anne addressed all her sims as "sister," and now Anne, herself, was
being so addressed. "Sister," said the other Anne, "this has got to work out. I need you."
"I know," said Anne, "I’m your wedding day."
"Yes, my wedding day."
Across the room, the guests laughed and applauded. Benjamin-both of him-was entertaining, as
usual. He-the one in goggles-motioned to them. The other Anne said, "We have to go. I’ll be
back."
Great Uncle Karl, Nancy, Cathy and Tom, Aunt Jennifer, and the rest, left through the wall. A
polka could be heard playing on the other side. Before leaving, the other Benjamin gathered the
other Anne into his arms and leaned her backward for a theatrical kiss. Their goggles clacked.
How happy I look, Anne told herself. This is the happiest day of my life.
Then the lights dimmed, and her thoughts shattered like glass.
* * *
They stood stock still, as instructed, close but not touching. Benjamin whispered, "This is taking too
long," and Anne shushed him. You weren’t supposed to talk; it could glitch the sims. But it did
seem a long time. Benjamin gazed at her with hungry eyes and brought his lips close enough for
a kiss, but Anne smiled and turned away. There’d be plenty of time later for fooling around.
Through the wall, they heard music, the tinkle of glassware, and the mutter of overlapping
conversation. "Maybe I should just check things out," Benjamin said and broke his pose.
"No, wait," whispered Anne, catching his arm. But her hand passed right through him in a stream
of colorful noise. She looked at her hand in amused wonder.
Anne’s father came through the wall. He stopped when he saw her and said, "Oh, how lovely."
Anne noticed he wasn’t wearing a tuxedo.
"You just walked through the wall," said Benjamin.
"Yes, I did," said Anne’s father. "Ben asked me to come in here and . . . ah . . . orient you two."
"Is something wrong?" said Anne, through a fuzz of delight.
"There’s nothing wrong," replied her father.
"Something’s wrong?" asked Benjamin.
"No, no," replied the old man. "Quite the contrary. We’re having a do out there. . . ." He paused
to look around. "Actually, in here. I’d forgotten what this room used to look like."
"Is that the wedding reception?" Anne asked.
"No, your anniversary."
Suddenly Benjamin threw his hands into the air and exclaimed, "I get it, we’re the sims!"
"That’s my boy," said Anne’s father.
"All my sims say that, don’t they? I just never expected to be a sim."
"Good for you," said Anne’s father. "All right then." He headed for the wall. "We’ll be along shortly."
"Wait," said Anne, but he was already gone.
Benjamin walked around the room, passing his hand through chairs and lamp shades like a kid.
"Isn’t this fantastic?" he said.
Anne felt too good to panic, even when another Benjamin, this one dressed in jeans and
sportscoat, led a group of people through the wall. "And this," he announced with a flourish of his
hand, "is our wedding sim." Cathy was part of this group, and Janice and Beryl, and other couples
she knew. But strangers too. "Notice what a cave I used to inhabit," the new Benjamin went on,
"before Annie fixed it up. And here’s the blushing bride, herself," he said and bowed gallantly to
Anne. Then, when he stood next to his double, her Benjamin, Anne laughed, for someone was
playing a prank on her.
"Oh, really?" she said. "If this is a sim, where’s the goggles?" For indeed, no one was wearing
goggles.
"Technology!" exclaimed the new Benjamin. "We had our system upgraded. Don’t you love it?"
"Is that right?" she said, smiling at the guests to let them know she wasn’t fooled. "Then where’s
the real me?"
"You’ll be along," replied the new Benjamin. "No doubt you’re using the potty again." The guests
laughed and so did Anne. She couldn’t help herself.
Cathy drew her aside with a look. "Don’t mind him," she said. "Wait till you see."
"See what?" said Anne. "What’s going on?" But Cathy pantomimed pulling a zipper across her lips.
This should have annoyed Anne, but didn’t, and she said, "At least tell me who those people are."
David Marusek - The Wedding Album.pdf

共37页,预览4页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：37 页 大小：115.16KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-11-24

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 动力学连接体 力的合成 配电装置 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 37
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注