Universe Between Read online

  “But what do they say?”

  “Who?”

  “The people who have the channel?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Dot put her hand to her forehead. “You don’t know?”

  “No. They clam up when I’m nearby or approach them. They won’t share it with me. They all just say I have to see it. And once I see it, I won’t ever want the commercials to end. In fact, the guy at the desk next to mine got to this Channel and now he’s talking to them about it. Almost everyone in the office is subscribed and talking about the commercials.”

  She leaned in close to the screen. “Brad…this subscription price is two of your subsidized requirements. How are you going to afford that?” She pointed at the monitor.

  Dot was right. It was something Brad had been debating for two days. He had money tucked away for the food and phone subscriptions, but little else.

  “No…no, Brad don’t. You’re thinking of using that stash of yours.”

  When he didn’t say anything, Dot punched him in the shoulder again. “No. Uh uh. You’ve been saving hard for that money. Going without. I mean look at you—you’re thinner than me. You’ve made a six-month subsidy subscription last nine months. You use that money for what you meant to. And call your dad.”

  She was right…but he wanted to see those commercials so bad.

  After eliciting a promise that he wouldn’t use the money on the Premium Channel subscription, Dot trotted down the hall to her own apartment. After locking the door, Brad moved back to the computer and stared at the Channel page.

  He wouldn’t use the money—not so much because he liked to keep promises but because Dot threatened to break his kneecaps.

  There had to be another way to afford it. Otherwise he was going to continue being the one on the outside. He touched the screen and moved the Channel to a holding cue as he pulled up his profile.

  Brad Navaro, Community College. One year remained in his degree by using his allotted subscriptions. He hadn’t taken a single semester off and kept his grades at above average levels. Maxed at five subscripts for his pay grade—there wasn’t any room for him to add the Channel.

  He was on track. Graduation in a year’s time. Then he’d be on easy street with fifty subscriptions and making enough to move his dad closer.

  Looking at the subscription run times…he had two ready to renew in a week. They were set to auto because they were tied into the college curriculum. Once he finished a course, the system re-enrolled, renewed and he was set two weeks after finish to start new.

  He had eight, six-week subscription classes to take before he graduated. In less than a week he’d be between semesters—

  Brad brought the Channel page back with a brush of his finger against the monitor, and then set the page next to his college profile page as an idea formed in his head. Side by side, he could look at the Channel schedule length. They were only four weeks! His school was six weeks…

  One of the nice things about the subscription model for students was the bartering function. Only students could use more than one of their allotted subscriptions and combine them to afford more expensive ones. If he paused two of his college classes, he could use the two slots to subscribe to the Channel he wanted.

  It would put him behind by a full semester—but he’d be able to join in with the others to see the commercials. And he would have the added ability to view the particular show, though no one had ever mentioned the program or praised it.

  Just the commercials in between.

  Brad reviewed the rules for barter and his heart sank. He had to wait for the running subscriptions to finish, and then he could pause and apply. But he would have to wait for another semester before he could continue.

  So….he wouldn’t be one semester behind, but two.

  Graduation would be twelve weeks further away. Fourteen if he counted the breaks between semesters.

  Spending the accumulated money would be easier, and better for him. He did want to upgrade his meals and talk to his dad. Brad read further but didn’t see anything else cautionary in the rules. Or nothing that popped out at him.

  Yeah…he was going to do it. He’d pause class subscriptions for two semesters and start back after he’d taken a look at the commercials. He felt pretty good after entering the information and signing up for the new Channel.

  Just two semesters. Brad knew a few students who skipped entire years, came back and finished their degrees. They now owned real houses and lots of subscriptions.

  Yeah, this was a great idea.

  2

  “No way.” Brad pressed his hands to the sides of his head. “It’s finished?”

  “Yeah.” Sam Rosa, Brad’s cubicle mate and fellow college student, pointed at his work monitor. “See? Four-week subscriptions. There are three episodes a week, so this season’s done.”

  “But I just subscribed. I mean…it just started this morning.”

  “Well…the new season won’t start for another four weeks.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest when he looked back at Brad. “You subscribed into that dead zone between seasons where the Channel sticks in a new show to kill time.” He looked to his right, then his left. “If you ask me, it’s just a junk move to get subscriptions without having to produce more content. Schmoes just renew every four weeks and only get the quality stuff half the time.”

  Brad didn’t want to believe what he was hearing. “Is…is this explained in the Channel subscription TOS?”

  “Well yeah, but that shit updates every six weeks, and unless you’re a subscriber, you don’t get the most up-to-date version of them.” He shrugged. “Sorry Brad. But you should have waited four or five weeks.”

  This meant he’d wasted two subscriptions…and put himself two semesters back…for nothing.

  Failure sat heavy on his shoulders. For years he’d worked hard not to waste what little he had…and he’d thrown it all away just so he could see commercials?

  “Though…” Sam said. “You could subscribe to this past season.”

  A light shined dim at first but cast away the shadows of stupidity. “I can?” He felt a bit of trepidation. Maybe there was a way to fix this. “How much does that cost?”

  “It’s about as much as a regular subscription.”

  “What?” Brad tried to keep his voice down. He looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “Sam…I can’t afford to pause two more semesters. That’ll put me twice as far back. That’ll be a year.”

  Sam leaned back in his chair and stared at Brad. “Is it that important? Seeing this show?”

  Brad nearly forgot his cubicle mate was one of the few who didn’t subscribe to many show Channels. In fact, he wasn’t sure if Sam subscribed to any of them. His tastes ran toward movies and documentaries. “It’s not the show. It’s the commercials. Or…I think it’s a series of commercials.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes as he straightened in his chair. “Come again?”

  “Haven’t you noticed all the talking in the office about the Channel’s commercials? I mean,” Brad sat back and held out his arms as if to indicate the world. “Everybody’s talking about them.”

  “Everybody?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Or just Tempest?”

  Tempest Summer was the group chair, the leader of his team’s section. She was also the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on. Yeah, Dot was pretty too—but Tempest was up among the clouds in beauty. Thick blond hair, bright blue eyes, soft clear skin…and a backside that pulled at all the right seams in her skirts.

  Everyone followed her. She was the one with influence enough to give promotions—and promotions added subscription subsidiaries.

  “Yeah, I can see from that dopey look in your eyes it’s Tempest.”

  “She talks to everyone but me because I’m the only one not subscribed to it.”

  “And this is a bad thing? Tempest is a trender. You’ve never followed trends. Not once. Just join in if you really have to know what
it’s about.”

  “Sam, they don’t discuss it with those who don’t subscribe to the show. It’s like this little clique she’s created.” He hated the way he sounded. But it was the truth. “What if she’s looking for someone to promote and only takes from subscribers to this? And besides,” he shrugged. “Every agrees. They say these commercials are phenomenal.”

  He looked confused. “You’re losing me. You used two of your student-provided subscriptions to watch commercials—all that crap they shove between the actual drama—and you don’t even know what the show is about?” Sam whistled. “Man…she’s got you good.”

  “Who’s got me?”

  “Tempest…them.” He moved his index finger around without really pointing at anyone. “The group mind. They’ve got you screwing up your own future to see something they won’t even give you details on. Now that,” he said. “Is some serious marketing.”

  “Look,” Brad said as he held out his hands. “What is it about the commercials for this show that’s got everyone talking? Aren’t you curious?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “No.” Sam pushed his chair back. “Life isn’t in there.” He pointed to the monitor. “It’s not made up of subscriptions and dramas and commercials peddling you things you don’t need.” When he stood Brad pushed his chair back and stood as well. “Just ignore Tempest. Get your degree. I’m heading out for lunch. You wanna join me? Planning on grabbing a salad over in the garden.”

  “No…” Brad said as he took a step back. “I get what you’re saying. But I’ve lived my life this way as long as I can remember. The net gives people like me something to escape to when the world’s just too hard to deal with.”

  “What’s so hard about this world?” Sam grabbed his suit jacket and shrugged it on. The jacket always made him look different. It took him from desk jockey to professional.

  Or maybe it was the way he held himself.

  “I don’t know about the way things were when you were my age—”

  “Brad, when I was your age, I thought the same way you’re thinking now. You’re in that no-man’s land between childhood and manhood. Between depending on others, to making your own way. And right now, anything you believe might give you an escape from this null existence is something you’re striving for. But what you should move toward is your end goal. The other side of being in the middle.” He held out his arms as he backed up, still facing Brad. “Just let it go, Brad. The longer you put off finishing, the longer you’ll be forever in limbo.”

  Brad watched Sam leave as others stood and filed through the door leading to the elevators. It was lunchtime, but he wasn’t hungry. His stomach clenched in knots at the prospect of delaying his graduation two semesters for nothing.

  3

  The rest of the day became a blur. He did his job by rote, because it was that simple. That mind numbing. Sam liked it. Always had. Every break Brad was reminded of what he didn’t have when others gathered together to talk about the commercials, but would become quiet when he walked by.

  Was he the only one in the company besides Sam who hadn’t seen them?

  He felt isolated. Alone.

  Brad went straight home and blew off a dinner date with Dot so he could look closer at the TOS and his options. They were pretty much the way Sam told him.

  The season that just finished was available now—not as a dated subscription—but as a floating one. Meaning if he bought it now, he could start watching now.

  Just this second.

  And then he’d know what it was all about. He’d be able to go into work tomorrow morning and talk with everyone. He could be a part of what they were all a part of.

  No more being caught between common sense and pure, utter…

  Brad opened his profile and looked again at the subscription dates. He had three classes ending this week. Finals were in two days. He was ready for them…or as ready as he would get. His mind wasn’t on school anymore.

  Even though the subscription for past seasons was three quarters of the new subscription he’d just signed into, it was still expensive, and a single subscription wasn’t going to trade evenly. He’d still owe.

  Dropping another class subscription would put him further behind by two more semesters. If he continued down the path he was on, his graduation would be pushed back over two more years instead of less than one. How had he gone from being behind in a year to almost two and a half more years?

  If he dropped a third allotted subscription.

  But…if he used the saved money to buy the previous season, it wouldn’t take the full amount, but it would take most of it. He wouldn’t be able to buy the communication subscription at all, which meant he couldn’t talk to his dad, and he’d only be able to afford a small half subscription on the restaurant meals.

  Indecision plagued him for most of the night as he wavered between using the money to buy back into the college subscriptions—something he could do if he didn’t use the subsidized ones—and dropping another course subscription with the remainder of the cost covered by his savings.

  Before the sun came up, he’d made his decision.

  He chose the later of the two and started the process of dropping the new subscription he’d just renewed for the college. After the subscription became free he’d transfer funds into the Previous Season one before he used the newly freed subscription.

  But the plan didn’t work as he hoped. Once again, Brad failed to read the fine print explaining the floating deadlines for canceling. Last month he was sure all the college programs had one-week temps on their subscriptions, but apparently somewhere in the middle of the previous semester, this rule changed. Students now had two days to file cancellation against renewal.

  Brad’s subscription renewal initiated over a week ago. He couldn’t drop anything else and subsidize the remainder of the subscription to join the previous season—not unless he used all of his saved money.

  When he called and spoke to a subscriber representative so he could explain what it was he needed, Brad pretty much got the same reaction he had from Sam. Finish school, worry about commercials when he could afford it.

  If only it was that easy.

  Yesterday he’d seen Tempest talking with a group of employees in the break room. When he entered they all quieted down and looked at him with sad expressions, as if to have pity on him because he couldn’t share in their group knowledge.

  Dreams of approaching Tempest and talking to her about the commercials dissolved in front of him, like a hand waving away smoke.

  The call disconnected on its own and he wondered if he actually said anything he shouldn’t have to the representative. Did it really matter? He’d wasted two of his subsidized subscriptions for nothing. To watch a Channel that wasn’t going to show the commercial he so desperately wanted to see.

  Brad called off work that day and sat alone in his apartment. He had a few of the standard meals ready in the fridge. Filtered water in the cooler. And a bad case of I suck to contend with.

  He also had a Channel he needed to watch since well…he sacrificed another year to stay in this hell hole, in a dead-end job with limited subscriptions just so he could be a part of Tempest’s crowd and not some idiot stuck outside like a gum wrapper stuck between the pages of a novel just to mark a place.

  Or worse, randomly stuck there with no purpose.

  The replacement show was well acted with good dialogue and an interesting plot. Brad had a pretty good idea where the arc of the show would go, who would die, who would live, and who would have their consciousness preserved for future study.

  Yeah…the drama was that bad.

  When the first episode finished, a choice menu appeared. Since he’d never subscribed to one of the premium channels, Brad didn’t know what this was for, or if all dramas ended with choices.

  He lifted his hand for the sensor to read. Each choice button brightened as he passed his palm in front of the screen. There wer
e six buttons in all. Two said CONNECTING 1 and CONNECTING 2. The next two said PREV ADVERT 1 and PREV ADVERT 2. The last two said FULL SEASON and PREV SERIES.

  His phone chimed Dot’s name as he sat on his couch, his hand positioned between the choices. After a few seconds he gestured for the screen to split and answered. “Navaro.”

  Dot’s fish-bowled image appeared in a large window to the right of the screen. Brad minimized it, not wanting that much Dot filling his view. “Hey…you sick?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Like, stomach sick or more like the I fucked up sick?”

  Brad shrugged. “Somewhere between the two. Are you calling to check up on me?”

  “Kowsiniski called me. I’m on your emergency list, remember?”

  “Yeah…but all I did was call in sick.”

  “Brad, you’ve never called in sick before. You’re on her A list for employee of the year so a single absence in a perfect attendance flagged.” She made a face. “In fact she sort of made me want to puke the way she gushed about you.”

  Brad held up his juice in salute. He still thought his boss was bat-crap crazy. “I’m here. I’m dealing.”

  “Bad news on the subscriptions, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know…I went by your office this morning.”

  “You slumming it from payroll?”

  Dot grinned. “Nah. Your boss is sending you a care package and wanted me to get it and bring it to you. But—I noticed with you not here, they haven’t been huddling together like they usually do.”

  “Who?”

  Dot frowned. “That little clique you want to be a part of so bad. You know, Tempest’s followers?”

  Just the mention of her name made Brad’s face feel hot. He cleared his throat. “So why is that important?”

  “It’s not. I assumed since you weren’t there to torment, they weren’t bothering with forming their posse. They didn’t even go to lunch together.”

  Brad didn’t know if he should feel happy or sad or indifferent. What did it matter? He was going to be in this shit job another two years instead of one.