Proceed to the Route
Part One: The Dog
The moment Mara stepped into the elevator after her annual wellness review, she received a notification on her phone—6 health credits. Relief bloomed. Last year, she only received 4 credits, but she had since reduced her baseline cortisol levels through a recommended daily mindfulness practice.
Mara had scheduled her appointment late enough in the afternoon so that she wouldn’t be expected to return to work. She’d been looking forward to having an extra hour and a half to kill and it was too nice outside to go straight home.
She’d been craving one of those strawberry Napoleon deserts from Café Dulce on 7th and Cherry, where she could people watch from the outdoor patio. It would cost her at least 2 health credits, but hell, she’d been good. She earned it.
Mara entered the cafe’s destination into her phone and a blue line threaded its way through familiar downtown streets on her phone screen, not that she needed the directions, but she couldn’t leave the building without a confirmed destination.
Mara relished the sun’s rays on her face as she strolled unhurried toward the upscale cafe. Her physician did recommend a bit more vitamin D. He was a cute one, and he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. She couldn’t help but blush as he slid the stethoscope just inside her blouse, worried he might deduce the reason for her increased heart rate.
She smiled despite herself as she strolled through the city streets. Her phone’s haptic vibration indicated a right turn at the next intersection.
Mara slowed her pace when she heard a high-pitched whimper. A dog tied to a railing in front of a vacant retail space stopped her in her tracks. It’s white fur had been tarnished by the city streets. When the dog made eye contact, it tried to stand from a laying position, but was restricted by the tangled leash. It re-settled and whined pitifully.
She looked around the immediate area for the dog’s owner and even asked passing pedestrians if this was their dog. One shook his head and continued walking. The other ignored her completely. The dog was clearly in distress as he tugged against the shortened tether, whipping his head back and forth in futility.
Mara slowly moved toward the dog with her hand extended, palm side down. He sniffed her knuckles and she knelt beside the dog to loosen the leash when she received a notification:
Proceed to the Route.
“Yeah, yeah, just a second,” she muttered to herself. She knew she had only a limited amount of time before they’d require facial recognition.
“Hey buddy,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Where’s your human?” The dog sniffed her hand. “How’d you get so tangled?”
Her fingers worked quickly at the knot in the leash and found that in order to undo it, she’d need to unclip the leash from the dog’s collar so she could thread it back through the knot fixed to the railing. But once she did, the dog darted into the alley.
“Wait!” Mara called after the dog, and to her surprise, it stopped a few yards away and turned to her, tail wagging.
Proceed to the route.
Mara kept her eye on the dog as she unzipped her bag to search for a half-eaten protein bar. She was already getting dangerously close to the edge of the sidewalk and hoped the dog would be lured by the snack. He lowered his head and raised it.
“That’s it. Come here. It’s peanut butter! You like peanut butter?” She took another step toward the dog who lowered his head and let out a quiet whimper.
“That’s it, boy.” She took another step, slowly. Then another, holding the snack out toward the dog, whose nose twitched with intrigue.
Her phone blared an obnoxious alert and the dog ran further into the alley. She pulled her phone from her pocket to see a red banner across the home screen:
Out of compliance. Proceed to the route in 17 seconds. The number was descending . . . 16 . . . 15 . . .
Mara dismissed the alert to end the audible assault and re-doubled her efforts with the dog. “Come here, boy! Come here!” She bent over at the waist and patted both thighs.
She broke off a corner of the protein bar and tossed it into the alley. The dog took a step and paused to look back up at Mara.
“That’s it.”
The dog sniffed the treat, then scarfed it down.
She looked at her phone: 6 seconds.
“You want some more?” She held out the remaining bar. “Come here! Come here, boy!” She chirped pleasantly, trying to keep the rising anxiety from her voice. She debated if all this was really worth losing mobility credits? It was her fault after all. It might have effected travel plans if she’d had any.
2 seconds.
“Fuck it.”
Mara took two careful steps toward the dog, who timidly wagged his tail. His eyes moved from her face to the protein bar in her extended hand. His tongue lolled from his mouth.
The phone blared another alert, scaring the dog even further down the alley. This time the dog didn’t turn back. She tried to dismiss the alert but it could not be disabled until she verified her location with facial recognition and was back on the route.
Mara stomped her foot, turned, and marched back onto the sidewalk.
Out of compliance. You have been debited 5 mobility credits.
The words sat heavy in her chest. Mara looked back down the alley. The dog was too far now. She threw the rest of her protein bar down the alley in frustration.
Her shoulders hunched as she continued her walk toward Café Dulce, but when she stepped into the crosswalk at the next intersection, her phone buzzed.
Proceed to the route.
“What?” Mara looked at her phone screen. Her route had been altered. The blue line had re-routed back home. She manually entered the cafe’s location again, but the device shuddered to indicate the location was outside of her allowed perimeter.
Next episode . . .