The people of my mind. Ch.1 Introduction to MECO
I'm not sure how you got here, but welcome to the place where I keep all the characters that I dream up that are dear to me. Many of my friends here have spent a great number of years with me. We have had many adventures together in various forms, but... outside of my mind, they don't exist. I know it's a bit depressing and that they should all have had their stories written and told countless times over now... but they are of My mind. Creations to help me during times of strain and the years where expression outwardly was taboo and the makings of a vulnerability to be attacked repeatedly. Even after that time passed, the anxiety remains. That suffocating weight, that makes feel like you have to force your heart to beat and your lungs to breathe. The icy numbness that cramps your fingers and fogs your mind. That kind of anxiety that persists not only at the beginning of a task but steadily grows through out and becomes a constant ominous roar as end of what you need done inches painstakingly closer. Decades of that have robbed my friends of their chance of being. Beings of little more than figments of my imagination. Every day I feel shame that I did not press on harder for each and every one of them to have their story told. The times we shared together... for most of them, are fading from my mind.
If you would indulge me, I would like to use you to make some sort of amends for this and introduce you, the reader, to those that are literally precious IN my mind.
Not all at once of course. That would be silly, and confusing. Almost everyone here were unique to the universe that they were from, and that the only commonality for them... for as self centered as it sounds, is me. Nevertheless the one who has waited the longest to have a proper introduction is MECO.
MECO is short for Medical Companion. In the universe that MECO hails from society had made great advances in medical technology, so much so that the expected lifespan for humans extended into the 130-140 year range. Coupling that with and ever slowing birth rate meant that most of humanity was quickly becoming too old to naturally have children, creating a large labor gap. Too many needing long term care, too few to grow up and take care of them. At first robots and automatons were used as a stop gap for manual labor and other less "thought inducing" occupations. For health care though, people wanted real, organic, living, doctors to care for them. Even with all the automation, not every person born can become a nurse to look after the elderly, so something a bit more drastic was developed. Organic beings grown and conditioned, nay, programmed with a bevy of technical and medical knowledge to become the new core of civil servants for this society.
In a utopia it might have worked as intended, but time makes fools of us all.
Even with fantastical science, it took over 10 years before the first generation of Bio-Mechanical assistants went into service, and with mixed results at that. Yes, they were doing the job that they were made for, but they weren't made, they were living beings that were grown. Most of them buckled under the mental pressure of caring for people that treated them with all the dignity and grace of a motorized garbage can.
Not surprising, nature solved this problem with time. After about 40 years, the birth rate had climbed back up some, and a good number of the elderly naturally passed on. Although there was still a need for Bio-Mechanical beings, it had become less of a mass production to cover anything and everything, it had become specialized and customized for a discerning clientele.
MECO herself is of the last generation of the "mass production models" . I say herself because that's how she identifies. Although some, how do I put this, "models" carry the equipment for sexuality, none that I know of can actually reproduce. MECO is without gender, and absolutely hates to be called an "it", therefore chose to be a she. As far as a Medical Companion, her skillset is focused to the long-term care of those with chronic illnesses and/or disabilities that would require frequent treatments and such. Part physical therapist, dietitian, nursemaid, and all around great listener. MECO herself is short, shorter than most of her generation, about five foot two inches tall, and a very slender build. Despite that the muscles she has are well toned. On the day I first met her she was so pale it seemed like the sun tried to avoid her. (she's not like that now). She has strait dark hair that she keeps just above the shoulders and her normal, informal, outfit is a button up short sleeve work shirt and shorts. When I first met her however, she had showed up to my house in, I kid you not, blue scrubs via a taxi from the hospital that wanted to be paid.
She was mistakenly sent to me after a hospital visit for a sinus infection, because apparently the code for that is right next to some unpronounceable neurological disease that requires constant training and a diet mostly fruit, nuts, and fish to keep at bay. I called up the hospital to tell them that she was mistakenly sent to me and that she wasn't necessary, to which a phone cut in on the automated system to someone who had a title so convoluted that I can only assume it meant "guardian of the stuff in the cellar." He told me he knew about the mix up, he mixed it up on purpose. MECO's generation was being phased out of service, and although I don't exactly know what phased out implies for someone like her, I know what that means for basic machinery. He was giving as many MECO's as he could a chance to have, not only a long service life, but a long life in general. According to the rules that he told me if a MECO was in service at the time of the "cutoff" they wouldn't be replaced until their duties for that patient were complete. Since at the time I was a young man, that would mean almost a century of time for her. For a MECO, a lifetime and a half. I had a million questions for him, but he stopped me and said. "Listen, all you need to know right now is this. Sometime in the near future someone is going to knock on your door and ask you about how satisfied you are with your MECO. YOU tell them that it is YOUR MECO and YOU DON'T want an upgrade. You tell them that no matter what they offer. After that, they will have you sign a form, and after that I can contact you again once things have processed.
So naturally, I took his advice, remembered his instructions, and took in this little nurse that could soon have less than no where to go. Why? The answer to that came to me in pieces over time.
In the story we shared a small apartment, and after some adjustments for both of us, seemed to find a balance. That person did knock at the door, and I told her what I had to say, and repeated it verbatim every time she made a new offer. MECO watched this exchange... she had the right to. Even though everyone else saw her as much property as a dairy cow, she had the right to see the discussion of her fate. Ultimately I got to keep MECO and all of the challenges that went with her. The voice on the phone would call up from time to time offering "customer support" for her long term care.
Thank you reader for helping me get started and finally having people like MECO have a place that is somewhere that isn't just in my min