Ashey walked through the virtual streets of the town, looking at window fronts while she absentmindedly chattered with her friend Saena. They both had strawberry-blonde hair and dusky purple eyes, but while Ashey wore her hair in a page cut going just past her earlobes, Saena had it in a braid going over one shoulder. And they didn't look identical in other respects – Ashey had freckles and a thinner nose, while Saena chose a pure complexion with one beauty mark. The colors sometimes made it difficult to choose clothes, but they both thought that it was worth it.

As they strolled, the simulation rolled past, and other people were also present. Like usual, a few had more unusual faces – one person had dragon wings and scales, and two had glowing skin. They went past another window front, and the light glanced over the glass just so, so that when Ashey lazily surveyed the contents of the v-store, she was met instead with a reflection of two girls she didn't recognize at all. The suddenness of it struck her, but she recovered from the strange shock quickly and the rest of the evening was spent uneventfully.

When she finally turned off the v-world and snuggled into her memory-foam bed, she recalled the event. Brushing her fingertips, like moth wings fluttering against the edges of glass, across her face, she wondered, Why did I not recognize myself? I've looked like this for nearly a year now, and I'm going to choose a new face soon... it's my birthday tomorrow. How come I'm still not used to this?

If she really thought about it... back and back...

Last year. She had been looking through a yearbook on her v-bookshelf, and, scanning through the photos, couldn't seem to find herself until she looked closer at the name under the picture of a dark-skinned girl with bangs and hair in a ponytail. There she was, just last year... and already, she had forgotten how she looked?! She had chosen the non-update version of the yearbook, and so it was understandable that she may not remember exactly how her friends had looked that year, but the way she had looked?

And a few times before, like when she was young, only 8, and walked into a mirrored room in the house one day, screaming out suddenly to her mother that there was a stranger in the house, only to belatedly realize it was her own reflection. Who did she think of when she thought of herself? She'd had so many faces, been so many people. It was unthinkable not to change, and yet... and yet...

Ashey fell asleep with troubled thoughts, and this led to troubled dreams.

She was an actress in an old-fashioned theater, wearing masks for different roles, but she had them all on at once. In front of a mirror, she took them off, one by one, until she reached the last one. A light bulb in the room gave out, and she tore the last mask from her face – and there was nothing beneath. Not even a skull.

She woke sweating, tangled in her sheets.






*
*
*


Alicia woke up with a faint sensation of trepidation, as if there was something that was going to happen to her later that day, something uncomfortable and possibly painful. She hadn't slept well, but she wasn't sure why. Getting up, she put on her plain white uniform, and went into her v-closet to choose an over-layer that everyone else would see. Going out without one was as good as going out naked.

Today, she plain blue jeans and a white, long-sleeved tee, with a silvery vest over it that had a glittering turquoise flower embroidered on it. She felt like something simple. Slipping into the kitchen and seeing that her mother wasn't there yet, she went over to the food producer and typed in “1 Plain Bagel w/ cream cheese, 1 glass of orange juice, 1 apple” and hit enter. While the food was being made, she took out a comb from a pocket and combed her hair. She was unaccustomed to the difficulty of combing such long hair, and by the time she was done, the bagel was already cold.

Gulping the food down, she hurried back to her room, greeting her dad and mom as they, sleep-mussed, emerged from their separate bedrooms. It was almost 9:30, and if she didn't hurry, she wouldn't have any time to chat with her friends before v-school began. It worked through a system of v-textbooks that collected data from the pattern of the children's work, and chose the ways that lessons were presented accordingly. After the program was started, there would be no chatting with the others.

As she entered the v-world, she paused, and looked at the advertisements surrounding her. They flickered, half-transparent, videos playing silently, waiting to be allowed to harass the guileless v-surfer into buying some useless beauty product. But she wasn't really looking at them – she was looking through them, to her mirror. She saw someone surrounded by pictures, but she couldn't see her face. And... and everyone in the advertisements seemed to look the same.

Shaking off the sensation, she glanced at the time and sighed, half-relieved for some reason. If she logged on now, she wouldn't have time to talk with her friends. Friends. She would probably join a new group now. Tapping on the “Log on” button, she typed in her name and password, then tapped “Begin tutorial.” There would be a break for lunch, then lessons would continue until 4:00.

As she worked through the math problems that were given to her, she glanced over into the corner where the schedule was posted. After Math: Algebra 1, she would have Group Art Project, then Geological Forces of the Earth, Sociological Impact from the Introduction of the V-World, and then Biology: Genes and DNA. They'd learned about DNA last year, so she supposed that this lesson would start off with a review, and then go more in-depth. Maybe she'd get another simulation – those were always interesting.

During the art project, she got placed in a group with two other girls, both strawberry-blondes, and a sullen boy. They didn't manage to cooperate too well, and so their creative animation turned out to be a poorly made video with unfitting music whose plot line didn't make much sense at all. But that was only a small part of the grade, and most people didn't do that well at it, either.

The program shut off automatically for lunchtime, and, grabbing a sandwich she had asked her mother to order, Alicia decided to brave a chat-room. Slipping back inside the v-bubble, she tapped on the link to the one whose real-time recorder showed a group of her friends. They were all sort of misfits, and until now, Alicia had fit in well with them. One girl had rainbow hair and bright pink skin, another had a crest of feathers, and they all had appearances that weren't in style.

“Guess what, guys?” Alicia announced, through bites of her peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. “My birthday was yesterday, so I actually got to choose my own face!” They congratulated her, and then Nina said to her, “Guess we won't see you around here that much, then. Bye! Tell us what it's like to be in the elite group!” Waving good-bye, Alicia exited the chat-room, and looked at the list of others. According to the unspoken etiquette, she would now go for the lowest-ranking progressive one, where others like her, with recently changed faces, hung out. And then she would move on, probably with someone from that chat-room, to another group, and another, and another, until she found one that was comfortable enough to socialize in until she changed her face again.

It was a fun and amusing past-time, where you could meet many new people with similar interests, or whatever interests you had at the moment, and maybe collaborate in the v-world on creating fanciful chat-rooms, or animations, digital paintings... anything you enjoyed doing, as long as it suited your face. Thinking about it, Alicia guessed that that was why people changed their faces so often. As their interests changed, so did their face. On the other hand... it felt like there was something she ought to realize, but it kept slipping through her fingers.

Sighing, she saw that it was time to get back to v-school. Brushing crumbs off her digital clothes, even though she knew they wouldn't show up on others screens, she logged back on.

Alicia woke up with a faint sensation of trepidation, as if there was something that was going to happen to her later that day, something uncomfortable and possibly painful. She hadn't slept well, but she wasn't sure why. Getting up, she put on her plain white uniform, and went into her v-closet to choose an over-layer that everyone else would see. Going out without one was as good as going out naked.

Today, she plain blue jeans and a white, long-sleeved tee, with a silvery vest over it that had a glittering turquoise flower embroidered on it. She felt like something simple. Slipping into the kitchen and seeing that her mother wasn't there yet, she went over to the food producer and typed in “1 Plain Bagel w/ cream cheese, 1 glass of orange juice, 1 apple” and hit enter. While the food was being made, she took out a comb from a pocket and combed her hair. She was unaccustomed to the difficulty of combing such long hair, and by the time she was done, the bagel was already cold.

Gulping the food down, she hurried back to her room, greeting her dad and mom as they, sleep-mussed, emerged from their separate bedrooms. It was almost 9:30, and if she didn't hurry, she wouldn't have any time to chat with her friends before v-school began. It worked through a system of v-textbooks that collected data from the pattern of the children's work, and chose the ways that lessons were presented accordingly. After the program was started, there would be no chatting with the others.

As she entered the v-world, she paused, and looked at the advertisements surrounding her. They flickered, half-transparent, videos playing silently, waiting to be allowed to harass the guileless v-surfer into buying some useless beauty product. But she wasn't really looking at them – she was looking through them, to her mirror. She saw someone surrounded by pictures, but she couldn't see her face. And... and everyone in the advertisements seemed to look the same.

Shaking off the sensation, she glanced at the time and sighed, half-relieved for some reason. If she logged on now, she wouldn't have time to talk with her friends. Friends. She would probably join a new group now. Tapping on the “Log on” button, she typed in her name and password, then tapped “Begin tutorial.” There would be a break for lunch, then lessons would continue until 4:00.

As she worked through the math problems that were given to her, she glanced over into the corner where the schedule was posted. After Math: Algebra 1, she would have Group Art Project, then Geological Forces of the Earth, Sociological Impact from the Introduction of the V-World, and then Biology: Genes and DNA. They'd learned about DNA last year, so she supposed that this lesson would start off with a review, and then go more in-depth. Maybe she'd get another simulation – those were always interesting.

During the art project, she got placed in a group with two other girls, both strawberry-blondes, and a sullen boy. They didn't manage to cooperate too well, and so their creative animation turned out to be a poorly made video with unfitting music whose plot line didn't make much sense at all. But that was only a small part of the grade, and most people didn't do that well at it, either.

The program shut off automatically for lunchtime, and, grabbing a sandwich she had asked her mother to order, Alicia decided to brave a chat-room. Slipping back inside the v-bubble, she tapped on the link to the one whose real-time recorder showed a group of her friends. They were all sort of misfits, and until now, Alicia had fit in well with them. One girl had rainbow hair and bright pink skin, another had a crest of feathers, and they all had appearances that weren't in style.

“Guess what, guys?” Alicia announced, through bites of her peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. “My birthday was yesterday, so I actually got to choose my own face!” They congratulated her, and then Nina said to her, “Guess we won't see you around here that much, then. Bye! Tell us what it's like to be in the elite group!” Waving good-bye, Alicia exited the chat-room, and looked at the list of others. According to the unspoken etiquette, she would now go for the lowest-ranking progressive one, where others like her, with recently changed faces, hung out. And then she would move on, probably with someone from that chat-room, to another group, and another, and another, until she found one that was comfortable enough to socialize in until she changed her face again.

It was a fun and amusing past-time, where you could meet many new people with similar interests, or whatever interests you had at the moment, and maybe collaborate in the v-world on creating fanciful chat-rooms, or animations, digital paintings... anything you enjoyed doing, as long as it suited your face. Thinking about it, Alicia guessed that that was why people changed their faces so often. As their interests changed, so did their face. On the other hand... it felt like there was something she ought to realize, but it kept slipping through her fingers.

Sighing, she saw that it was time to get back to v-school. Brushing crumbs off her digital clothes, even though she knew they wouldn't show up on others screens, she logged back on.

“That group project sucked, didn't it?” Saena commented.

“Yes, sort of... but you could tell that they weren't really interested in that stuff. At least our art came out pretty well.” Seeing as they considered themselves creative, now, Ashey and Saena had gone to several digital art and animation classes together.

“Argh, it's time to go back to class.... and there aren't any more collab projects on my schedule. What about yours?” Ashey asked.

“Nope, not on mine, either. Hey, look, there's an ad for a class on storylines – wanna go tonight?” Saena suggested.

“Sure! See you later, then.”

“See ya.”

Ashey logged into the v-school, and began listening to a speech about tectonic plates. She seemed to absorb information best through listening, and so the program gave her a lot of lectures. Tapping on the v-keyboard – while others preferred the more modern speech-to-text notes that recorded key information automatically, she liked the retro feel and look of doing it herself – Ashey wondered at how long it took everything to happen. Here, you could get practically anything you wanted within minutes, and creating things took so much less time, now that there were all sorts of programs to simplify things. But the earth didn't hurry at all, and the tectonic plates shifted over thousands of millions of years. Cities grew up and dwindled, aircraft came and went, people swarmed over them, but they just kept on going, not shifted in the least from paths only they could see.

And the people's faces changed, just as the face of the earth did.

Startled from her reverie, Ashey realized that she was being quizzed. Flustered, she chose the wrong answer at first, before getting her thoughts organized and recalling what she had just written down. It was almost time for her next class, and she was curious. She had been considering entering the field of v-world research, but hadn't been focusing on it much since she decided she should do art.

Ashey finished the last question, and received her score, after which the next program began playing. It started off with a video, and then a textbook format. It was curious to learn about how the imagination of a few people had created the v-world they knew today, but Ashey found it laughable that before, they had thought that things like the v-world would shorten attention span... Now, the way the chat-rooms were generally made, most people spent time hanging out with a select group of friends, giving their undivided attention to one particular ongoing conversation. Of course, there was the fact that the nature of people's personalities had shifted, according to the program.

Instead of having an inborn, specific calling, an affinity towards one thing or another, people could manipulate what they enjoyed, and apparently, the changing of their outward image was a part of that. She sighed, frustrated. She'd never felt like it was easy to change her interests, though to others it came naturally. Maybe something's wrong with me.

Alicia hadn't been paying much attention to the presentation playing in front of her. Biology did not interest her much, although last year she had absorbed the information readily enough. But then came a paragraph that caught her attention. It was about the nature of DNA and heredity, and about how genes, even after plastic surgery and other appearance-changers, remained in the body. According to her notes, this was a key idea, that genes could never be removed. And if they couldn't be removed, the information in them could still be used to reconstruct what a person looked like. There was even a small business based on that concept, though it wasn't very popular at this time.

Huh. Interesting... she mused.

Class ended soon after, and, liberated, she scanned through the list of after-school activities that popped up. One of them was The Perfect Profession: Find the right career for you! All the latest science on the right line of work, depending on your appearance. Alicia looked at the bright, flashing letters dancing in front of her. Most people were satisfied with what they had now, and with their appearances. Sure, some needed a little bit of help to figure out what they should look like, and who they should be, and needed to change, but -

Alicia turned off the v-world, and rested her head on her hands. Why were her thoughts so confused the past few days? The world was the way it had always been, and it was all correct. But she had never thought about this aspect of her life before; she had taken it for granted. Before all the technological advancements, though, things had been very different.

It must have sucked for the people, right? They hardly had any choice or chance to learn as much as they all could now. On the other hand.... No. There was no other hand. There had already been so many scientific studies proving that it was better this way. No depression because of having the wrong body type for teens, no not being able to fit in because of your appearance, no discrimination because of skin color.... Life was better now, and that was that. Why would she ever want to find out what she really looked like? People would make fun of her if she wasn't pretty enough, and she would be ridiculed.

What was her 'real look', anyway? Heredity and so forth – did it really matter what you really looked like when you could get it changed, just like that? What if her image didn't match her personality?

Alicia's thoughts were chasing their tails, she realized now. What was personality, if not what you looked like? Maybe I just have the flu, she thought. That'd make me like this, probably... And I didn't feel too good this morning. I should get checked up.

And so it was that instead of signing up for an activity, she reluctantly tapped the “Nurse's Corner” icon. Two options came up: “Mental illness symptoms checker” and “Physical illness symptoms checker”. She automatically clicked on the second – surely there wasn't something that wrong with her. Alicia waited patiently and unflinchingly as a scanner passed over her, checking all her vital signs. A little green check mark popped up and dinged. So it wasn't the flu, in any case.

I guess maybe I'm fatigued... should I take a day off?

Yes. That's what I'll do. All this schoolwork has been getting to me.

Of course, if she really wanted to, she could try the “Mental illness symptoms checker”, but when she was totally truthful with herself, Alicia had to admit that she was a bit scared of what the answer would be. It'll pass, she told herself. She went to bed early that day, after telling her mom that she didn't feel well enough to take v-school tomorrow.

Ashey woke up early that day, for some reason. She had no idea why, but she didn't feel like going back to sleep, though it was only 5:27. A sense of expectation flooded her, and she sat up in bed, tense. Was it a dream she'd had? For the life of her, she couldn't remember.

She brushed her face with her fingertips, feeling the molded skin, the false – no. She was certain that she couldn't use the word false. That would... that would change everything, wouldn't it?

The v-world was still on, had been on all night, but it was dim, set to a dome of stars that hovered above her. Through it, she could see out the window, through the v-curtain on it, to the early-morning street, quiet and devoid of life. Her ears strained to make out any sounds, but it was totally silent. Here. Out there. The world was not even whispering, hardly even breathing.

Ashey put out a hand, lightly tapping the v-world's skin, so that it brightened and enveloped her in a curtain of light. She was searching for something in that digital maelstrom, but for what? What could she find there? A small advertisement caught her eye.

It was not bright, like the others. It was snuggled in a corner, between two flashing, neon rogues that seemed to scream for her attention. In small, simple, black font on a gentle, cream background, it said “Facial/Whole-body Surgery, using the latest technology in gene extraction. Come find your true self here! Call to inquire.” A link shimmered, unimposing, below.

That's weird... I just learned about that yesterday.

Reasoning that simply tapping on the link didn't mean she was purchasing anything, Ashey, trembling slightly, touched it lightly. The screen zoomed in on the ad, until it filled the whole dome, a site that was the same gentle, calming style as the advertisement had been. There was a photo that looked a bit outdated of a couple, holding hands and smiling, that looked so... plain? No, she decided. They were... gentle and calm, like the website. No flashy, supermodel faces for them, or outlandishly colored hair. In fact, their hair was almost mousy brown, her nose jutting and her face a bit mottled, his brows thick and heavy, with ears that stuck out.

But their smile struck her as... natural. She hadn't ever seen a smile like that in her whole life, that she could recall – except... on children that hadn't had surgery yet.

A box floated up, that said “Find us on 31st street, Building A. Our signs will point you to us.”

Ashey looked at the time again. It was 5:38 now. Her parents wouldn't be up until eight, and money wasn't a problem – she had her own, just enough for the price. Transportation wasn't a problem either, Building A was their neighboring building. How could I have not heard of that business before? She wondered, though it was really a rhetorical question – they were one of some fifty or sixty businesses housed there, and there ad didn't exactly draw attention to them.

She decided to do it.

As always, Alicia checked out the v-world before breakfast. She felt a bit woozy – maybe she was simply sick, after all. She turned of the sound, so that the commercial jingles wouldn't bother her, and browsed the numerous updates, shared photos, advertisements, and videos. As she glanced around casually, her head started to spin. Startled, Alicia shut off the v-world. If she hadn't been sitting already, she probably would have fallen. She took a deep, steadying breath to clear her head, and decided to look out the window for a bit. When she was sick, it sometimes helped to calm her.

Flicking the v-curtain aside, she looked out, across the dingy alleyway to the office quadrant. Ads shone out, bright against the muddled gray and beige of the walls. They darted around, trying to call attention to themselves, but she was too far to make out what they said.

I'll go for a walk, she decided. She occasionally did that, when she wanted some exercise outside of the v-world. Sometimes her friends laughingly called her crazy, but she liked the fresh air. It had been a while since she'd last gone out, though....

Her mom was gone, so Alicia sent a notification to her v-bubble before leaving.

As she strolled down the sidewalk, the rare car passing overhead, she decided to go into one of the office centers and see if there was anything interesting. Maybe there was somewhere where she could get a manicure, or maybe she could relax at a spa. Really, what she was trying to do was to avoid thinking about her appearance, but...

Entering the building, she nodded to the receptionist, and went down one of the halls. A doorway that was ajar drew her eyes to a sign that read, “We have the latest in gene extraction technology, and top-rated surgical equipment. Find the face that nature gave you!”

A dizzy spell passed over her again, and, gasping, Alicia put a hand on the wall. Another girl that was coming down the hall saw this, and hastened to come over, asking, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” Alicia mustered. “Thanks.”

The other girl had copper-red hair, and pale lavender eyes. Obviously not a natural phenomenon. She also looked familiar. Alicia was startled when she made a movement toward the door, and added, “You getting a revamp?”

The girl looked around, almost guiltily, and muttered, “Well, I guess so...”

“Can I come with you? I was... also thinking about it.”

She looked relieved, and nodded.

“I'm Ashey.”

“Alicia.”

“Weren't you in one of my classes yesterday?”

“Group Art, right? Yeah, I remember you! I wasn't sure, I didn't want to make a mistake...”

It was strange to find another of her age here, in this unfrequented corner, but Alicia was glad – it gave her the feeling that she wasn't abnormal. The secretary told them that, if they had the money with them, they could get an appointment right away. They both speedily transacted the money through the v-banks, and wished each other luck – what for, they weren't sure – as they were led into separate rooms.

The room looked exactly like all the other revamping rooms she had been in. A friendly surgeon in a white robe, a comfortable mattress to lie down on, shiny silver equipment. “Ready?” she was asked, and when Alicia nodded, the surgeon turned on the knockout gas.

All faded into black, and her consciousness vanished somewhere deep inside her.



It seemed like only a minute had passed when she woke up. She yawned and blinked, still feeling a bit fuzzy. The surgeon had cleaned up the area, and was now standing by her, holding a mirror in her hand. “When you feel ready, go ahead and take a look! We'd also like to take a photo, if you'll let us – for research purposes; we're performing studies that have to do with the naturalization of appearances.”

Alicia lay still for a couple of seconds, preparing herself mentally. What if it turned out she was outlandishly ugly? Deformed? What if she hated her new look? It wouldn't matter much, she could easily get a redo, but her mother certainly wouldn't be too pleased with the waste of money. Steeling herself, she took the mirror, and introduced herself to herself.

Alicia was startled by how... ordinary she looked. Just like in the advertisement she had seen. Her hair was a gentle, dark, chestnut brown, with lighter brown highlights. Her skin was medium pale, nothing special. Her nose was perhaps a little bit big, and personally she'd never been a fan of pug noses, or freckles for that matter, but on her it now simply felt normal. And looking into her eyes (storm-gray, a striking, streaked iris), she felt something click in her mind that never had before after revamps, and all of a sudden it felt just perfect. Natural. She felt... like herself.

She smiled. Her reflection smiled back at her (pleasingly, it had a dimple). Alicia thanked the surgeon, and handed the mirror back. “Sure, you can take a photo,” she said, suddenly feeling much more cheerful than she had yesterday. More cheerful than for months, in fact. A pause, a flash, and she was through. “You're free to go now,” the surgeon told her. “If you experience any interesting side effects – personality changes and the like – we encourage you to contact us.”

She also felt more polite, and significantly less snobbish. “Thanks! Have a good day,” she called over her shoulder as she left the room. On her way out through the lobby, she almost had a heart attack.

Ashey stared at the person in front of her. Could it – it couldn't be, could it?! Was there a mirror in the lobby? But nothing else was reflected. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stammered, “Are – what? Are you Alicia?”

Alicia was equally stunned. “But we look exactly alike!”

“Impossible!”

“There must have been a mistake!”

“We're – twins?!”

“What! But we'd have to be adopted -”

“Oh come on, everyone's adopted nowadays, but – there must have been a mistake!”

The secretary at the desk looked up, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses. “Is – there a problem?” she asked them, looking slightly askance at the pair. “I – could we see the surgeon, please? There must have been a mix-up.... a mix-up of some sort,” Ashey told her. The secretary shrugged, and called to the surgeon, who emerged looking confused, then astonished. “Well! Look at that! That's very unusual... oh, a mistake, you say? No, there couldn't have been a mistake; first of all, we operated in different rooms, second of all, we have very stringent measures taken to keep the samples uncontaminated. Otherwise we might have ended up with people looking like the foods they ate!”

Alicia was now trembling slightly, and in a tremulous voice, whispered, “Could you check? Just in case?”

“Oh, all right,” the surgeon relented. “It won't take a minute.”

And indeed, staring at the v-screen, they could see that the two gene samples were identical, and that they had been taken at separate times.

“We're twins,” Ashey whispered again.

The surgeon, who had been looking on with a certain detached curiosity, also grew a bit emotional when the two started crying and embracing.

Like the people of long ago, who, despite all the supposed uncertainties, were born knowing, one way or another, who they would be, and why they would be.

That night, Ashey had a dream again. She was standing in a long, golden-lit hall, lined with mirrors that reflected and labyrinthed far, far away, around an invisible bend beyond which there was nothing but a dusky haze to be seen. She was wearing a mask, a plain, white mask, like the person beside her. Holding hands, they both reached up, the movement echoing deep in the immutable and ancient river of glass. And when the masks came off, pale pebbles dropping into water, two pairs of gray eyes stared into time, where careers and paths and destinies unraveled and wove together, and they knew themselves.