Skan

Two glowing minus signs – one above and one below a hideous sneer – peer out at her from the abyss.

Nat jerked awake with a gasp to the shrill ringtone set for Brad, a nails-on-a-chalkboard alarm for an insufferable boss. Predictably, today, it’s about…

“You’re focusing too much time on the virtual reality user research, Nat,” came that nasal tone.

Nat barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I told you, Brad, I’m prioritizing the security tasks. The new ransomware group has got to be—”

“We’ve already discussed these performance issues at length,” Brad cut her off. “You’ll get your final paycheck next Tuesday.”

The line went dead, and Nat all but tossed her cell phone onto the floor.

Her mother was supposed to visit today, the real cherry on top.

Hoisting herself off the mattress, she beelined for the closet to pull out her dad’s old VR headset. The one the doctor suggested for his depression that… didn’t do any good in the end.

The door behind her unlocked with a click.

“Just let yourself in, huh?” Nat asked her mother, the older woman’s frame just visible in the low light cast on the closet mirror.

“Hey,” said Tammy, “you can take your key back any time. Your job getting you down again? Tired of being a robot shrink?”

Nat scoffed. “A cyberpsychologist isn’t a robot shrink, Mom. We’ve been over this. We study interactions between humans and machines. I’m just as much a psychologist as you.”

Not that either of them ended up saving Nat’s father.

“Whatever makes you happy, Natalie,” Tammy replied with that subtle, pitying smile Nat loathed.

Nat counted her lucky stars her mother left not long after.

******

The apartment grew dim at some point. Nat couldn’t say for certain when she put the headset back on, but-

She just about leapt out of her skin at a dark shape flitting across her field of vision.

Wrenching off the headset, Nat glanced around, heart pounding.

Nothing but an empty living room.

Trying her best to ignore the oppressive quiet, Nat replaced the headset over her eyes with trembling fingers-

There it was – that face, pallid and gaunt, yet human enough. No body to speak of, yet with features plain as day. A minus sign both above and below a mouth just then set in a slight frown. The voice that followed seemed too chipper to come out of that hollow skull with the sunken sockets.

The same face haunting her recent nightmares.

“Hi there, Nattie,” came the strange tone - male, female and static all blended together. “Ready to take the world by storm with that fancy tech of yours?”

Nat pursed her lips, determined not to let this thing notice her fear. This must be some program left over from when her dad used-

“You know a thing or two about VR?” Nat chanced.

“It’s what I do,” came the reply. “Call me Scan – hey, like what you’re doing right now!”

“Why are you here?” Nat asked, idly considering whether pinching herself might snap her out of this.

“I can help,” said Scan, and those black eyes almost shone, pleading despite the intruder’s wry half smile. “You hit a snag at work with those hacker baddies. Close your eyes and relax. Let me help connect the dots.”

Fingers curling around the car keys in her pocket as a safeguard, Nat played along.

One, two, three moments of nothingness, and then-

The onslaught of information struck her like a blow to the chest. The recent attack’s target industry, switched from the regular healthcare marks to aerospace. The IP address had matched a known proxy tied to them a few years back, with a domain resolving to .ir – Iran.

“It’s Quartz Kitten ransomware group,” Nat breathed. “They’re back, targeting a new industry. How did you—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Scan interjected with a jitter to their whole frame that sent a chill up Nat’s spine. “That was all you, Nattie. Hanging with me just helps bring it out. When you look at me, you focus but not all the way. Half in, half out, if you catch my drift. That’s the sweet spot to get past all those pesky insecurities that can block so much of the good stuff.”

That was it…

“We… this needs to be an app,” Nat said after submitting an FBI tip about the discovery. “Some kind of augmented reality that lets people lose focus just enough to de-stress just enough to get past these barriers. It would do wonders for not just mental health but creativity, and…”

She trailed off, noticing Scan observing her with a curious expression.

“You’re just waiting for me to ask for your help on the technical part, right?” Nat pressed.

Scan wasted no time with their salute. “At your service.”

Day turned into night and back into day. New data in backend mobile development seeped into Nat’s mind like water through osmosis. Probably for the best, Scan kept their distance in the corner of the room.

“We need a name,” was all Nat said before getting down to work.

“Ooh, how about Sc—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Nat cut them off.

“Aww!” Scan protested. “But people will literally be scanning the app.”

“We need to jazz it up,” Nat said. “Skan with a ‘k’.”

If Scan had eyebrows, they would have risen. “ Very nice.”

A stereogram – an image only visible when unfocusing your eyes just enough. Once she added the movement flair, Nat knew she’d done it. Just the right amount of distraction to forget one’s troubles for long enough to overcome insecurities and boost productivity. Just enough to…

Get more children into the STEM fields and improve the hand of nervous healthcare workers performing procedures.

******

The days flowed by once again, and…

It happened fast, but it happened before Nat’s eyes. Standardized tests scores soared, surgeries succeeded faster than ever on record, and-

Nat’s mom dropped by with an actual, genuine smile on her face.

“I’m proud of you, Nat,” Tammy said, embracing her daughter in the first hug Nat could remember since her father’s passing. “Your dad would be proud.”

All this time, Nat had been certain she was hallucinating when it came to Scan. But seeing her mother smile like that…well, that old VR headset might not have saved her father from his depression, but it was damn worth something.

“Are you even real?” Nat asked one evening the following week, sure she already knew the answer.

“Does it really matter?” Scan asked from the corner of her vision through the headset visor. “We work so well together.”

Nat couldn’t say how long she dozed with the headset on when garbled speech from the news she’d had on her laptop in the background drew her from sleep.

“School shooter says new Skan app gave them the ‘courage’ to go on rampage.”

All inhibitions lowered… damn it.

“Tough break, huh?” Scan piped up from Nat’s left, nearly making her jump. “But look, we can’t give up—"

“I did this!” Nat exclaimed, tears burning her eyes. “You’re not even real. There’s no excuse…. I screwed up...

“Come on now,” Scan replied easily, “don’t talk like that, Nattie. There could be so much worse in this world than you know. You have it easy with all your—"

Nat rose to her fee, staring down Scan, as sick realization washed over her.

“This world?” Nat said. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re just a figment—"

Svan cut her off, stepping closer. “No, Nat, that’s you wanting to control the situation, as per usual. This is so much bigger than you.”

Nat stood her ground, refusing to look away. “Who. Are. You.”

Scan took a moment before answering, gaze never wavering. “Someone who cares about where I come from... and the chaos we all gotta put up with over there. Why do you think we had to evolve to show up when you’re all sleeping or spacing out on your VR? Millennia beyond you, and yet, we still can’t breach the barrier.

“Barrier to where?” Nat’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“What’s known here as the Big Bang...” Scan began, “didn’t only create this place, Nattie.”

Nat frowned. “You mean antimatter?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” said Scan, “an anti-verse. Pure chaos. Those STEM skills really did pay off, I see.”

Then, all dreams… all nightmares…

Scan smiled then for the first time, a too-wide sneer.

The entity started again, “Suicide, murder... calms down the entropy on our side with a little equal and opposite. But it takes two to tango, and your folks seeing into our side with your precious human consciousness makes all the difference. Your handy little invention is gonna make that possible faster than ever before. Focus, but not all the way.”

In a panic, Nat tore off the VR headset. She whirled around to make a dash for the front door-

Only to find Scan standing before her in reality.

Nat’s chest simultaneously flooded with adrenaline and deflated in defeat. No...no, no, no, with everyone using the app-

“Now,” said Scan, “you’ll all be too bombarded by actual chaos to wanna create it.”

Scan then lifted their hand to brush along Nat’s cheekbone. She closed her eyes, a hot tear warming her cheek.

“I’ll be right there to help you cope…”

Those words practically echoed her mother’s insistence that Nat talk to a professional following her father’s death. No more – she would seek help on her own terms, and it wouldn’t be to move on as if nothing happened like her mother insisted when threatening to remove the batteries from her dad’s old headset.

Setting her jaw, Nat darted around Scan’s slight form and raced outside. Once out in the brisk dusk air, she turned around to find herself alone once again in the quiet.

******

The next day, Nat wasted no time replying to the news’ request for a live radio interview. Anyone using Skan needed to hear this, so they couldn’t be pulled into whatever Scan’s people had planned.

“What can you say about this minor setback?” came the journalist’s friendly voice through her laptop speaker.

Nat hesitated, eyes filling with tears at the devastating need to give up her creation. “I…”

Nat trailed off, eyes wide as Scan appeared before her several feet from where she sat on the couch.

It was now or never.

“Truthfully,” Nat began again, “it’s not a minor setback. We should all push boundaries every day. To create things, not tear them down.”

Before Nat’s eyes, Scan dropped to their knees.

“Skan has helped some people,” Nat went on, “but spending too much time in the virtual world can also make you lose your way. We don’t need technology to chase our dreams. We can run... we can fly... but not off the edge of a cliff.”

Just before Scan’s outstretched fingers reach’s Nat’s knee, they slowly faded into nothingness. Nat held that desperate gaze through a blur of tears.

“No achievement is worth that,” she finished.

******

Nat’s mother joined her at home the day after the ordeal.

“You sure you wanna turn your back on tech?” was the first thing Tammy asked, as they sat together.

“Tech can do just as much good for mental health as anything else,” Nat replied without missing a beat. “I want to work with people - they need their voices heard and not just through a screen.”

Her mother smiled. “Happy to have you.”

That night, Nat finally removed the batteries from the headset – only to find that they had expired long ago.

THE END

Bio: Sarah Katz is an author and screenwriter with a background in cybersecurity. She is currently pursuing a PhD in cyberpsychology. Her previous fiction publications include pieces in 365 tomorrows, Aphelion Webzine, AHF Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Literary Review, and Thriller Magazine.

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