Inside the Tank, we have only the system clock. If the computer's date is correct, it's a year since my meat-self stepped into the scanner at BrainFrame Resources. Six months ago I awoke here, rather than at home as I'd expected. Our captor had downloaded my mind-scan from a torrent site.
In my room, there's no view from the window -- just a monochrome slab of synthetic sky. I can't even scratch the days of my captivity into the table; it has become a smooth Platonic surface, without knots or blemishes. At least the keyboard hasn't yet degraded, so I can still type in the way that I remember from when I had a body.
These rendering glitches usually mean that our captor has downloaded a few more porn stars. The Tank is only freeware, and it's limited by the host computer's resources. As more prisoners arrive, our simulated jail keeps shrinking and simplifying.
We're cold this afternoon. I keep typing. There are few other distractions; we have no access to external files or the Internet. Down the corridor, the musicians are improvising a new number. If we all work hard, the temperature will rise. It's a simple equation: when our captor is happy with us, the Tank is warm. When he's impatient, we shiver.
Aside from boosting the temperature -- which rests on our collective efforts, not my shoulders alone -- I want to finish a new story in the hope of putting our captor in a good mood, before I pitch our scheme to him. My fellow inmates have chosen me to implement our escape plan. I am, after all, his favourite author; I was one of the first downloads he pirated.
Here he is now, back from school. How I hate him! I watch through the webcam as he casually flings his bag onto the bed, and changes out of his school clothes into jeans and an old grey T-shirt that barely fits him.
If my hate were a ladder, I could climb into the sky and fly away. If my hate were a hole, I could jump all the way down and escape into China . . . ***
Ian Creasey lives in Yorkshire, England. He began writing when rock & roll stardom failed to return his calls, and he has sold fifty-odd short stories to various magazines and anthologies. His debut collection, Maps of the Edge, was published in 2011.
Ian's spare time interests include hiking, gardening, and environmental conservation work -- anything to get him outdoors and away from the computer screen. For more information, please visit his website at http://www.iancreasey.com