Circa Tempore: The Artificial Organic
Copyright© 2026 by E. B. Redfield
Chapter 33 - Emergence
March 26th, 2012
Craig sat on his bed, staring blankly at the black necktie in his one hand free of a cast. There had been a constant ringing in his ears since the accident. The doctor was hopeful that it would fade with time, but it had been pulling him into long bouts of staring off into space.
There was a knock at his bedroom door. He flinched, but quickly realized it was too soft to be his father.
“It’s open,” he murmured. His aunt Jacquie stepped through the door. She was wearing a solid black dress and a hat with a veil. Her eyes were puffy and her makeup had been reapplied at least once.
“Hey there, little man,” she said consolingly in a scratched voice. She stood next to the bed and looked down at him, “Your dad asked me to check up on you.”
He stared at her for a moment and then stared back down at the floor.
“Can I sit down with you?” she asked. He shrugged, and felt the bed shift as settled next to him. They sat together in silence for a moment before she finally reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze.
“We were gonna save this for tomorrow ... give it to you for your birthday, but I thought you might want it now,” she said, pulling out a little package, wrapped in cheerful wrapping paper that was completely out of place. He stared blankly at it for a moment, before noticing the card.
Happy Birthday, Marcus!
Love, Mom
He stared blankly for a moment, then clumsily opened it with his left hand. It was a wristwatch, with a golden band and a purple face with the Lakers logo. A lump swelled up in his throat.
“Marcus, I know how you must be feeling right now,” she said, taking the watch out of the case and clasping it around his left wrist, “But you need to know that you ain’t alone. We’re all feeling it,” she grabbed the tie out of his hand and began fitting it around his neck. As she did, the lump in his throat broke and a sob pushed its way out.
“Oh, Marcus,” Jacquie said, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that he couldn’t return. He felt the warmth of it, but he didn’t deserve it.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out.
“No, no,” she said, pulling back and looking him in the eyes. Her mascara was running again as fresh tears trickled out of the corner of her eyes. “You got nothing to be sorry about, you hear me? It wasn’t you.”
“Yes, it was!” Craig wailed, the dam breaking, “It’s my fault! If she hadn’t been taking me to the airport, she’d be alive right now!”
“No, it wasn’t you, baby,” his aunt assured him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in both of hers, “It was him, ok? It wasn’t you. This isn’t your fault. Don’t you ever tell yourself that. None of us blame you, so don’t you blame yourself,” she finished putting his tie on and snugged it into place, “We love you, you hear that?”
He didn’t respond and she gave his hand another squeeze.
“Are you sure you won’t sing?” she asked, “It ain’t too late to change your mind, we can just let people know there’s another thing not in the program ... I just think she’d have really wanted you to sing for her one last time.”
His dad and grandad walked past the open door to the room. His grandad didn’t even glance inside; but his father paused and gave one tiny look over, but couldn’t even reach Craig’s eyes before continuing down the hall. Craig grimaced, and looked down to the floor. Something inside him had snuffed out like a candle, and he didn’t know how to tell her.
“I ... I can’t,” he said softly. Jacquie placed a hand on his shoulder.
“That’s ok, hun,” she reassured him, “We understand. And we love you.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, “I love you, too.”
As she stood up to walk out the door, a sudden desire hit him.
“Hey ... um ... one more thing,” he called to her.
“Yeah, Marc?” she said turning back.
“Could you call ... I prefer Craig,” he said, “That’s the name I prefer.”
She smiled a tired smile.
“Of course, Craig,” she replied, “If that’s what you’d like.”
January 17th, 3008
Craig, Paige, and the rest of her group settled into their seats at the Aura. Craig had filled out the sign-up form to participate earlier this morning, but it wasn’t clear if he was going to get to sing or not. The venue buzzed with chatter from the audience as they settled in, but it was certainly much quieter than the booming bass of the Fortune. He glanced over at Paige as she sat next to him, and a pang of guilt and longing hit him.
“It should be Kayla. This will just hurt her more than we already have. You should go to her, “ his father’s voice pressed him. Craig frowned. Why was he imagining the voice saying things like this? And why today? Of all days, why did it have to be today that his voice refused to be drowned out? Flooding him with guilt and shame? Why wasn’t the alcohol hitting him at all?
“Hey! Are you listening?”
With a start he glanced over at Paige who wore an annoyed expression on her face, and he realized she’d been talking to him.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m feeling really messed up right now.”
She frowned, “What, is it about your friend? The pretty one from the bistro?”
“I ... that’s part of it, but it’s more than that,” he admitted, “Fuck, it’s complicated.”
“Yeah, complicated shit sucks,” she shrugged, “That’s why we’re here, fuck the complicated things! Just be in the moment! Try to have some fun, ok?”
“Yeah, ok,” Craig muttered, finishing his drink in one chug, “What were you saying?”
“Did you get the reply yet?” she asked. They’d been waiting all day to find out if he’d been accepted or not.
“Nah, not yet. I mean, let’s be honest it’s a long...” he paused, as if on cue he received a blip from the neural band from the Aura Venue, “Hold on, I think I just got it!” He opened the message and read aloud, “‘Congratulations, you’ve been selected to participate!’”
Paige’s eyes bugged out of her head, “Holy shit that’s awesome! Did they give you a list?”
“Yeah, hold on,” Craig replied, scrolling through the message. There were ten people selected to perform, and the list showed their placement in the time slots and the performances they’d be doing.
#1 Zoos Ricahk – Musical Performance
#2 Gecroc – Comedy Routine
#3 Cess Qlouss – Dramatic Performance
Craig scrolled until he found his name, all the way down at the bottom.
#10 Craig Bello – Musical Performance
His heart raced. Holy shit, he was going to perform! Then his racing heart skipped a beat. Being chosen had seemed like such a long shot that he hadn’t put much thought yet into what he would even sing.
“Looks like I’m last on the list,” he told her. She screamed and threw her arms around him.
“Best for last!” she exclaimed, “This is exciting! I’m telling you; do what you did last night! You’ll crush it!”
Craig smiled, but as she turned to Erylara and the others to tell them, his face dropped. He glanced around at the enormous crowd filling in the stands on all sides threatening to crush him, as if the air itself were pressing in on him. This wasn’t even close to the thing he did the night before. The stage was enormous and the audience was a lot more than a group of random bar-goers more interested in their game of darts. Everyone here was expecting a show. And there were hundreds more people than could fit in that dingy little bar.
Plus, he certainly wasn’t in the same mindset as he’d been in the night before, or any other time he’d done karaoke for that matter. He didn’t have the, “liquid courage,” influencing him. How much more did he have to drink just to feel a buzz right now? He’d had at least five since entering the casino. Hell, it had seemed like anytime he finished a glass there was always a server with a tray of champagne or beer ready to offer him another.
“You don’t need a buzz to sing, “ the voice said, “Let’s just sing like we used to.”
“Fuck, shut up!” he begged the voice, “Please, I can’t deal with this right now!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, “ the voice scoffed, “Is this a bad time for you?”
His head shot up and he looked around in shock, as if expecting to see a person this voice was attached to. That response hadn’t felt like simply a memory of anything his dad had said in the past, nor an imagination of what he might say. This was different; like the voice was actively communicating, separate from him. He could feel the frustration in the tone, as if he himself were experiencing it.
“Am I fucking losing it?” he wondered.
“We lost it a long time ago. Fourteen years, specifically, “ the voice replied, and as it did he noticed that although it resembled his father’s voice, it was familiar in another way. Like reuniting with someone he’d lost touch with a long time ago, “It just took you this long to realize it.”
He stood up sharply, a cold sweat breaking out over him. Paige looked over, and concern crossed her face as she noted his distress.
“You ok?” she asked, “You look like you’re going to throw up.”
“Yeah,” he replied weakly, “Yeah, I’m just ... Imma go get some more to drink.”
“No!” the voice admonished, and it terrified him how he could feel its frustration as though it were his own, “Aint we had enough? We oughta stay sober so we can look Kayla in the eyes next time we see her!” he closed his eyes, concentrating on silencing the voice. Paige grabbed his hand and stopped him from leaving.
“Just sit and order here,” she insisted, tapping her neural band, a hint of annoyance in her voice, “It’s starting!”
Craig glanced over and saw the stage power on. It lit up in fantastical blasts of color. A full band materialized at the back and blasted a fanfare as a beijinkind MC with the splashiest vessel Craig had seen all week took center stage. Their vessel glittered like a diamond encrusted disco ball as it bobbed along to the fanfare, twirling around dancers who had popped into existence and choreographed themselves around the sparkling pod perfectly. Craig sat back down and watched in awe. The entire stage became drenched in a deep gold, the dancers disappeared, and the words, “WELCOME TO THE AURA,” appeared over the MC’s head.
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