Anais and Steven's Cyberpunk Quest

Steven, my brother, had been born with a weak heart. The doctors said he wouldn't make it past puberty. This was why my mother sent me to him when I turned eighteen. She wanted me to take care of him and protect him on the long journey ahead of us.

I didn't understand at first. He seemed so fragile, so small, and so afraid of everything. He'd cry at the slightest noise or the smallest bump in the road. I had to hold his hand just to get him through the airport. He clung to my leg like we were going to be separated forever. They gave me a hard time about it at security because he couldn't walk by himself, but I ignored them.

My mother was a tough woman. She had been one of the best fighters in our village back home. But now she was gone, taken by a pack of tigers just weeks before I left for Steven. It was almost as if she knew; they were supposed to meet when I got there, but she was killed before then. People say the tigers were waiting for her, waiting to tear her apart in front of us all. Now Steven is all I have left in this world, and I don't know or understand any more than he does.

When Steven showed up at the airport, he looked nothing like our mother – he looked like me instead, chubby cheeks and all. But after a while, as we drove further away from home, we started to look more alike. My eyes grew dark and angry while his teeth gritted tightly together as his lips trembled with fear. Eventually, we got pretty close, closer than most siblings would think possible given our circumstances. We stayed together in motels along the way until it got too cold, and then we had to find somewhere else to stay for the winter months. Nearly a year later and dozens of states from where we began our journey, we're still together – we can't afford anything else but each other now.

We spent several months in California looking for work once we ran out of money for motels. We did what we could, mostly shoplifting food or clothes when no one was looking. Eventually, we found work in an alleyway where people paid us in food or older clothes to watch their belongings while they went off to gamble or drink. It's not exactly legal, but neither were we if you want to get technical about it. There's not a law against traveling interstate without your parents' permission anymore these days.

Steven took care of most of the thinking while I was busy watching things. It helped having someone else around who knew what they were doing and could keep an eye out for trouble while I kept my eyes forward on everything. Soon, though, Steven started getting sick – sicker than usual. He would cough up blood and feel dizzy whenever he stood up from sitting down too long. After a few days, some mean-looking guys came by asking questions about how he got hurt, so I decided it would be best for us both if we moved on again before something bad happened, like last time.

The next morning, we packed our stuff into bags and started walking towards another big city nearby called San Diego. While walking, Steven tripped over a rock and fell down hard onto his stomach right into some bushes lining the sidewalk path. No one saw him fall, so I picked him up and carried him as far as I could toward San Diego until someone offered me a ride in return for helping them carry some computer parts back from San Francisco.

In San Francisco, at the tech company building, the employees talked about the strange dreams Steven used to speak about, filled with robots and manly things. It seemed scary but exciting. Now that he's passed away, they want me to help them figure out why. The thought of tomorrow morning arriving, and with it the possibility that Steven might pass again, was unsettling. If only someone could stop time from passing by long enough to prevent any of this from happening.

But knowing my luck, it probably won't do any good. There's no stopping time, whether we want it to or not! Tomorrow morning will come around soon, and there's no guarantee anyone can help. Sometimes I wonder if something inside his brain stopped working along the way. That's why he spoke about dreams so much – they aren't real in the same way other things are. Everything is confusing now; nothing makes sense anymore.

It was strange how, in that frantic moment, everyone seemed relieved when they realized what was happening. They wanted to help fulfill Steven's last wish before he passed. This man, who looked important and knowledgeable, suggested connecting electrodes to Steven's head to better understand his condition. Everyone agreed: it seemed like the best plan of action to take care of Steven and grant his final request.