Qualityland

PARTNERCARE

After work, Peter and Sandra meet in a restaurant that Sweetie has suggested. Nobody didn’t agree with the choice and thinks the restaurant is awful, so Peter has switched him on to silent. The restaurant was the first in the city to have only cultivated meat on its menu, or in other words, laboratory-generated meat.

“The meeting was so exciting!” chatters Sandra. “We’re doing a big campaign for QualityPartner. Did I already mention that I’ve jumped up two levels? Have you heard of PartnerCare? It’s a really exciting program. It can save people a lot of time that they would otherwise have to spend working on their relationships.”

Peter holds a forkful of steak up against the light and says, “Who would have thought that one day our food would be more cultivated than us?”

“You really don’t have any ambition whatsoever, do you?” asks Sandra.

Peter sighs.

“You’re at Level 10,” says Sandra. “If you drop down one more level, you’ll be Useless. You need to get your ass in gear!”

“I know, I know,” says Peter. “You’re right. But…”

“But what?”

“I mean, recently we were talking about having a baby…”

Sandra sighs. “Peter, I’ve just been promoted!”

“Yes, but I could look after the baby. It could hang out with me in the shop. I mean, for the most part there’s nothing to do anyway.”

“I have to keep at it now.”

“Yes, but…”

“We can’t afford an optimized baby anyway!” snaps Sandra. “And there’s no way I’m ruining my child’s life with a natural birth.”

“We could scrape the money together for the genetic improvement,” says Peter. Sandra is just about to respond when she receives a message. Her watch, her glasses, her bracelet, and her earrings all vibrate. She twitches her nose, and the message appears on her glasses: “A new notification from QualityPartner PartnerCare: ‘Hello, Sandra. A new, better partner at a higher level is now available for you. If you would like to connect with him, choose OK now.’”

Sandra looks at Peter. He gives her a friendly smile. She smiles back. Then she focuses her pupils on OK.

Sweetie whispers to her: “A good decision, if I may say so.”

A follow-up question appears on Sandra’s glasses: “Would you like QualityPartner to automatically set the time and location for a rendezvous with your new partner?” Sandra fixes her pupils on OK again.

“Is everything all right?” asks Peter. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”

“I’m fine.”

The next question appears: “Would you like QualityPartner to inform your old partner about the dissolution of the relationship?”

Sandra hesitates briefly, then selects OK.

Peter’s QualityPad vibrates inside his rucksack.

Sandra suddenly feels kind of bad.

“Shall we go back to yours afterward?” asks Peter, “and maybe… listen to some soft rock?”

“Why can you never just say ‘have sex’?” grumbles Sandra. “Fuck, bonk, bang. I mean, there are so many words for it. You could even say ‘make love’ for all I care. Why do you always use that euphemism? ‘Listen to soft rock.’”

“And? Shall we?”

“I don’t know.”

Yet another question appears on Sandra’s glasses: “If you like, you can make the separation easier on your former partner by gifting him with a voucher for a new QualityPartner partner of his level. This would only cost you 100 Qualities. Would you like to do that?”

Sandra selects OK. She immediately feels better.

Peter’s QualityPad vibrates once again. He leans over, rummages around in his rucksack, and pulls out the QualityPad. By the time he looks up again, Sandra has disappeared.

Two new messages are blinking on his QualityPad. He reads the first. “A new notification from QualityPartner: ‘Hello, Peter. Your relationship with Sandra Admin has been unexpectedly terminated. We apologize for any inconvenience and hope to be able to greet you again soon as a QualityPartner customer.’”

Peter wants to press No, but the only option available is OK. So Peter presses OK, and reads the second message. “A new notification from QualityPartner: ‘Hello, Peter. Good news! Sandra Admin has gifted you with a QualityPartner voucher. If you like, we can immediately suggest a new partner in your level for no extra fee.’”

Peter sighs, then selects: Ask again tomorrow.

His QualityPad informs him, by means of a short sequence of sad tones, that he has just dropped down a level. Everyone around Peter looks at him, so discreetly that it is blatantly obvious. His relationship status has presumably just been updated. He is now officially useless.

Peter activates his personal assistant. “Nobody, send a message to QualityPartner. Request a reduction of the importance of appearance by 50… no, wait, 25 percent.”

“Your request has been denied,” Nobody reports back instantly. “It doesn’t correspond to your genuine wishes.”

Peter sighs again, opens the TouchKiss app, and selects the dinner from the list of open tabs. Sandra’s dish is already marked as paid. Well, there’s that, if nothing else. Pressing his lips against his QualityPad in order to pay the rest, Peter thinks: I guess that was the goodbye kiss. It tastes stale. He reminds himself to clean the screen.