L.I.F.E.; or the Latent Integrated Fantasy Experience, was something my great-great-grandfather had designed when Humanity fell into a massive depression. The loss of seeing the sun on a daily basis had both a physical and a psychological impact on society; so, they needed something to distract them. My ancestor decided that a virtual reality experience, where you could go and do what you wanted, was the best thing for the human mind to have.

People didn't have to worry about hard radiation, traveling, or even had to leave their house. It had been the thing that all of humanity had needed... 200 years ago. My mind was filled with all of the information about it and the process of it's construction. I knew all about how it was more of a future technological innovation than it was a modern game system, and smiled as I thought about that. It was a tech innovation, but it was also a game system. Everyone played it; but as the world changed, so did their needs.

The L.I.F.E. system started to change, but not for the better. The more people that accessed it, the worse it became. More and more filth seeped into the system over the years as people modded updates for it and uploaded hacks to manipulate it to the point that it wasn't what my ancestor had envisioned at all. At that point, nearly a hundred years ago, no one ran it anymore. It was impossible to keep track of all the information needed to keep the thing stable, and it eventually broke down then faded from existence.

All the old machines used to run and store the information had been re-purposed and harvested for parts. No actual machine existed that had the original program on it; except for one. It was the last bit of information that Dennis, the archive AI, sent to me. I was pretty sure he intentionally did it that way, so I would know the significance of the data only after seeing everything else.

Thoughts of my mother were pushed to the back of my mind as I started to unravel the sheer complexity of the L.I.F.E. system, the beauty in the coding, and the simplicity in it's design. Of course, I immediately started to see where I could change it, improve it, and fix it. The only problem was, the machine the program was on wasn't physically attached to the System as it existed now. What I was seeing were copies of copies, generations later of the code that wouldn't work properly without the base of the original to reference.

I contemplated just building from scratch, since I could probably do that; but, if there was something subtle in the code, options you wouldn't see unless certain things were done or accessed, then anything I made would be a poor imitation. I sighed when I realized I would have to go and get the machine from where it was being stored.

It was in my family's old vacation spot at the edge of the Cavern.

I looked at Dennis and nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Dennis said and started to fade away. “I'm glad you took it so well.”

“We can go and get it tomorrow!” Amanda said once the connection with Dennis ended.

“You mean that I can go and get it tomorrow.” I said. “You can't physically go anywhere.”

Amanda laughed. “Jack, I'm piggybacking on every device in the Cavern.” She said. “I can follow you anywhere, unless you take Rusty with you.” She smiled. “Then I'll be right by your side.”

I laughed. “I can't remember the last time I took old Rusty out.”

“It was 1 year, 3 months, 8 days, 17 hours, 5 minutes, and 10 seconds ago.” Amanda said. “Give or take a few nanoseconds.”

“Damn, it's been that long?” I asked rhetorically. “Okay, I'm definitely going out tomorrow... and I'll take Rusty with me.”

“Want me to book the tour?” Amanda asked.

“Only if you can get Sandra's shift.”

“I already checked and booked it.” Amanda said.

“Great.” I said. “Now, let's get to work.”

“Yes, sir!” Amanda said and saluted.

“Cut that out.” I said, and closed her access port.

“You touched me there again!” Amanda yelled and put a hand over her breasts. I rolled my eyes at her, and she laughed.

“Just load the queue.”

“Sorting... sorting... done. First up! The Reclamation Compactor is on the blink again.”

“Damn! I just fixed that last night!” I said. “Show me the footage.”

Amanda ran the footage for the error, and I saw something flash by the screen.

“Play that back.” I said. It played again, and I still didn't see it. “I can't tell what it is.”

“I can't tell, either.” Amanda said. “Whatever it was, it pulled the main circuit board and 3 connecting cables from the actuator arm.”

“Huh.” I said and sighed. “Do we have the replacement parts ready?”

“Yes, and I've sent George out to it.”

“Thanks, Amanda.” I said. “What's the ETA?”

“Two minutes.”

“How the hell... oh, you checked the queue before I came in.”

“You're on the ball today!” Amanda said. “Want to check the program?”

“We need the new board installed before we can do that.” I said. “What's next on the list?”

“The food dispenser in Sector H is spitting out double portions for some reason.”

“Nice.” I said. “Show me.”

Amanda ran the footage, and I saw it wasn't people pushing the button twice. I checked the power settings and saw there wasn't an electrical surge to cause a fault.

“It looks like we have to check the code.”

“I've got it downloading now.” Amanda said. “Separate bus... buffered... creating terminal.”

A terminal popped up in front of me, and I grinned. This was always the best part of my job. I could do the physical stuff easily enough, but this was what I lived for. I accessed the program and ran through the main processors.

“No, it's not going to be that simple.” I said. “Change to macro scale, and give me 360 maneuverability.”

The terminal grew up to encompass me and the code flowed around me in waves. I laughed as I just thought of the direction to go, and my body flew through the space to the section of code I wanted.

The subroutine for making the algenate discs was fine. I thought. What could... no, it wouldn't be that!

I checked the time reference in the code and browsed through the options. I knew this code as well, and I saw something stick out like a sore thumb. It made the waves of information part slightly, and I grabbed it. I pulled it apart and read the code, and smiled. Each time the food processor button was pushed, it skipped backwards a split second and ran again.

“I found it.” I said to Amanda, and she clapped. I patched a repair into the System, and Amanda sent it off. The error disappeared from the list and the macro scale faded away to leave me standing beside Amanda again.

“George is at the Reclamation Compactor.” Amanda said.

“Bring up the virtual controls and an outside view.”

George's control center faded into existence around me, and I was sitting in his cockpit.

“Good morning, George.” I said.

“Good morning, Jack.” George said. “Glad to have you aboard.”

“Thanks for heading out so early.” I said.

“Something keeps happening to this thing.” George said.

“I know. This is the second time since yesterday.”

“Let's see if we can fix that.” George said. “I brought a Rever with me.”

“George, you animal!” I said and laughed.

George chuckled and extended an actuator arm. “Check the outside view and make sure I get this right.”

“Amanda?” I asked, and she brought up three views around the arm. George, or G.E.O.R.G., the Generic Electro-Optical Robotic Guardian for Sector B, was 3 tons of metal, tubes and wires on a tank track base. He had 3 actuator arms with different mechanical heads on them, and the one I was looking at had a hand and a welding torch on it.

“Looking good, George.” I said.

“I assume you're on the override?” George asked.

“You bet.” I said, with my hand over the kill switch. “If there's any danger to you, I'll blow the arm.”

“Thanks.” George said. “Okay, here goes.”

The welding torch lit and George started to cut into the metal. It went through fast, since it was an industrial welder and not one that a human could use. The hand grabbed the metal piece before it could fall inside the machine, then George lifted the other arm.

“All right, little buddy.” George said to the Rever. It was about the size of a mouse, but it looked like a giant ant. “You are hereby charged with the protection of this machine. Only authorized units may service it.”

The ant twitched it's antennae. George put a large cube of generic materials into the hole.

“This is enough to make 5 copies of yourself.” George said. “Leave one to guard, and the others can attack.”

The ant twitched it's antennae again and jumped into the hole. George welded the metal back into place and moved around to the side with the damage.

“It's not as bad as last time.” George said and did the repairs. He welded a new piece of metal into place, and then covered that with a wire mesh. “All done.”

“Thanks, George.” I said. “Good work.”

“Sorry you didn't have anything to do today.” George said.

“Don't be sorry, George.” I said. “I've got to check the code on that thing.”

“Ha ha.” George said. “Clean it good, Jack. She might be difficult and hard to work with; but on the bright side, she's a grand old bitch.”

I laughed. “Have a good day, George.”

“Bye, Jack.” George said, and the cockpit faded away to leave me standing beside Amanda again.

“I assume...”

“Right here.” Amanda said and showed me the code for the Reclamation Compactor.

“Thanks.” I said, and dove into my work. For the rest of the day all I did was solve maintenance problems for everyone. I never complained that they were working me too hard; mainly because I really liked my work. Sandra thought that I was from a rich family, and that I inherited money from my parents; but the truth was, I earned it all myself. I worked hard every day, and much harder than anyone else. That's not a boast about it, though. Amanda showed me the 'hours of work to production' ratios for all of the people currently living in the Cavern, and I was at the top of the list for completely human operators.

The cyborgs were on a whole different level. Over the years, as the focus of our society changed from outward exploration to inward exploration, our medical technology made leaps and bounds. The barrier that mankind always had between metal and flesh slowly blurred. Birth defects and accidents were met with cloned organs and robotic replacements. Eventually, they went from being considered life-saving medical miracles, to be so commonplace that people voluntarily underwent replacement surgery.

I shuddered at the thought. I'd never give up a hand or a foot, no matter how well the replacement worked!

At the end of the day, long after my shift was supposed to end, I logged out of the System. Amanda had pestered me over and over to leave and get some much needed rest, but I had ignored her so I could keep working. I agreed to leave after I had debugged a server drone; instead of pulling the errant code, I had pulled a main processor decision tree.

I apologized to Amanda for making the mistake, and was so glad that she always buffered and copied the code first. When I altered things and made a mistake, it didn't have a chance to ruin the original. I thanked her profusely, and logged out. The System unfolded the chair from around me, picked me up, and the chair receded back into the floor. The robotic arms stood me up, and I left the room.

“Go right to bed!” Amanda said from the vidwall.

I waved to her image as I flopped down onto the bed.

“I'll wake you in the morning.” She said.

“Goodnight.” I mumbled. I didn't bother taking off my clothes or slide under the blanket, and then the lights of my apartment dimmed to their lowest intensity.