“You no doubt have realized that most people are frozen,” the man said.
“Yeah, pretty obvious,” retorted Sam sarcastically. “Why is this happening?”
The man looked at his watch and then to the others. They each checked their watches as well. He nodded to them, and they separated, running off in different directions. Sam watched in utter confusion.
“In a few minutes, everything will go back to normal, and we can’t be seen together. They need to return to their lives,” the man explained. “I’ll stay for a few more minutes and give you some answers.”
“Alright, let’s do this,” urged Sam.
“Everyone who is frozen is not real, Sam. We call them shells. They emulate emotion, complexity, and reason, but beyond that, they are here to find people like us. Real people. Out of the seven billion people on the planet, only a small fraction are actually real. I can’t get into the details of what constitutes real, but what I can tell you is that the shells are something else.”
Sam looked confused. He shook his head. This guy must be crazy, paranoid, delusional, a druggie? Was he slipped something back at work? Was this a hallucination?
The man watched Sam’s face intently and nodded.
“I know this is a lot, but we don’t have much time. You can think about this later and come to terms with what I am telling you, but you have to be careful. If you tell any of the shells about this, therapists, friends, lovers, then they’ll find you.”
“Find me?” Sam took a step back. “How do you know who is who?”
The man gave a quick and subtle wink, “It’s in the subtext of conversations, hidden behind the veil of obscurity. You can hear it in songs. See it in movies. In someone’s resume. On their social media profile. There is no guide to tell you who is who when the world isn’t frozen. It’s something you’ll learn with time. For now, you have to assume everyone is a shell.”
“ During a,” Sam paused, “freeze… everyone still moving is real?
“Yeah,” the man nodded, “but outside of that, you can’t be sure.” He looked at his watch again.
“Wait, wait. Don’t leave,” pleaded Sam. “I have so many questions.”
“I have less than a minute, then I have to go.”
“Okay, first off, how often do freezes happen? Second, what’s with the white coats? And why are they here?”
“I’ll be quick. The freeze happens for three hours every two or three weeks. The timing isn’t exact, but you’ll start to notice it. Most of the time, it happens at night. Which is why you may have missed it until now. Other factors could have prevented you from noticing. More on that next time. The white coats make it easy for us to find each other during the freeze, but never, never wear it outside of one. And the last question will take more time.”
The man handed Sam a card with coordinates scribbled on the back and took off his coat, giving it to him.
“Meet there in three weeks. Take my coat, hide it somewhere safe. Wear it when we meet. The freeze will stop in twenty minutes, you’ll need to go back to your office and be where you were pre-freeze. You understand?”
“No, I don’t. But I’ll do it,” answered Sam.
The man started to back away.
“Wait! What’s your name?”
“Aaron. I’ll be seeing you, Sam.”
He turned and sprinted down the alley, leaving Sam alone and overwhelmed. What had just happened? Shell people, real people, freezes. What? This was crazy. He was insane. Was this real?
Sam turned back around the corner, looking down the alleyway into the street. Everyone was still frozen in place. He began to stumble his way back to his dropped backpack, the card in one hand and the coat thrown over his forearm. He made his way back to the office to be where he was when it started. Three hours ago, he was sitting at his desk, logged into the terminal, working on a proposal.
Luckily his bag was empty enough to fit the coat. He checked his watch. About fifteen minutes to get back and log into his terminal. But wait, would the terminal logout time be recorded? Meaning the login time would be registered as well. Could that reveal him as a real person? He let out a deep huff and breathed in.
If he logged back in right after the freeze was over, it might have looked like his terminal logged out automatically due to inactivity. He could explain it away if he had to. Would they be looking that meticulously for real people? Who even were they?
Three weeks from now, he would be asking this “Aaron” a lot of questions. In the meantime, he couldn’t trust anyone. Definitely not Karen or Hank. Or anyone for that matter. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around it all.
He made his way back to his building with his reality entirely shattered.
