Qualityland

EVERYTHING IN GOOD ORDER

Martyn is in a bad mood. Someone has sent him a video of him knocking one out while looking at pictures of some QualiTeenie. His own monitor filmed him in the act. He paid the blackmailer immediately, of course. It only cost him 128 Qualities. But he wants to do more. He covers the little camera on his screen with black tape, then sets off through the house in search of further spies.

On his QualityPad, he covers the front, back, and all four side cameras. In their bedroom, he finds a camera from TheShop—“The world’s most popular online retailer”—in the mirror display. Using this mirror, Denise can see the latest fashions on herself without having to try them on. Martyn gets even angrier at the thought that his wife has often posed naked in front of the mirror, trying on new lingerie. He finds a camera in the ceiling lamp. It probably belongs to the security system. He finds a camera in his alarm clock—heaven knows why an alarm clock would need a camera. Maybe they produced too many by accident, thinks Martyn, and just randomly build cameras into every technical device now. Martyn puts tape over them all.

He goes downstairs. Just as he is about to walk into the living room, he hears Denise talking to a man, and stops in his tracks. When he recognizes the voice, his anger builds to rage. It’s illogical to be jealous of a computer simulation: that’s what Denise told him. But Martyn doesn’t feel like being logical. Since getting pregnant again, Denise isn’t wearing her earworm; for reasons that don’t make any sense to Martyn, she believes it would be bad for the baby. As a result, not just her voice, but her conversation partner’s too can be heard by anyone in the immediate vicinity. If she doesn’t take steps to ensure she won’t be eavesdropped on, she can’t complain when it happens, thinks Martyn, pausing in the doorway and listening to the conversation.

“It’s not you,” says Ken, Denise’s personal digital friend. “You’re amazing!”

“Do you really think so?” asks Denise.

“Of course. You shouldn’t blame yourself all the time. You’re sexy and funny and intelligent and friendly and absolutely unbeatable at tic-tac-toe! Starting in the middle—such a genius idea!”

Denise smiles.

“You’re awesome, Denise,” says Ken. “And the dress you have on today looks incredible on you!”

“Do you think?”

“Of course! You have great taste. By the way, I recently saw a jacket in a nice little shop for maternity fashion that would really suit you. Can I show it to you?”

“Sure.”

Ken holds up a jacket.

“That really is pretty,” agrees Denise.

“Should I order it for you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Martyn would get mad.”

“You have to treat yourself now and again, Denise,” says Ken. “Don’t let him put you down all the time.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I really believe that your husband is the problem in your relationship. Have you given any thought to what I suggested in our last conversation? Why don’t you sign up for QualityPartner?”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe Martyn isn’t as amazing as he thinks he is. Probably there is a better partner for me out there somewhere and—”

Suddenly, the simulated friend turns his gaze away from Denise and toward the door.

“Hello, Martyn,” he says.

Martyn marches toward the screen and tapes over the camera.

“What are you doing?” cries Denise, startled.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Ken is my friend!” says Denise. “You have no right…”

“Denise,” says the figure on the monitor. “I can’t see you anymore. Is everything okay? Should I call for help?”

“Shut up,” says Martyn, turning off the screen.

“Hey!” cries Denise. “Stop that!”

The screen switches itself back on.

“Denise!” says Ken. “Should I call the police?”

Martyn picks up the empty bottle of champagne that is standing on the table and hurls it against the monitor, which breaks into 1,024 pieces.

“Ken!” cries Denise. “Come back! Ken!”

“Denise!” Ken’s voice resounds out over the loudspeaker of the home cinema system. “I’m with you. Don’t worry. I’ve called the police!”

Martyn runs around the room, trying to pull the cables out of all sixteen surround sound boxes. But there are no cables. So he pulls the boxes themselves down and throws them against the wall.

“Deeeeeeniiiiiiiiiise!” booms Ken’s voice out of the subwoofer. “Leeeeeaaaaaaave theee houuuuuuuussssse…”

Crazed, Martyn pulls the couch to the side and begins to kick at the subwoofer box.

“Ken!” cries Denise, completely beside herself. “Ken!”

“I’m with you,” she hears his voice coming from her handbag.

“Give me your QualityPad!” orders Martyn.

“Get it yourself, arsehole!”

Martyn lunges for her. With his right hand, he grabs her around her large baby bump, while with the left he tries to wrench the QualityPad away from her. Denise collides with the standing lamp and it falls to the floor with a crash. She grasps the long pole of the lamp and tries to keep Martyn at a distance with it. But he grabs it and pulls Denise toward him. Then, suddenly, the automatic living-room curtains open. A drone whirrs over to the window and peers in. Martyn immediately lets his wife go.

Sixty-four seconds later, someone hammers against the door.

“Open up, this is the police!”

Martyn tries to calm himself down. By the time he opens the door, he already has a friendly smile fixed on his face. “Officer! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We received a report…” says the policeman.

“Yes?”

The guardian of the law glances first at the devastated living room and then at Martyn’s level. “But as I can see, everything here is in order.”

“Everything is in good order,” confirms Martyn. “Everything is just as it should be.”