Love Stuck At Ninety-Nine Percent

In the twenty years Ive been bound to my host, this was the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time Id watched him fight with Isabelle.

The dinner hed spent hours preparing was now a ruin on the floor, swept there by a single, violent motion of his arm.

His eyes were bloodshot as he roared, his voice cracking. Why do you always choose him? Youre divorced, Isabelle, do you get that? Im your husband now!

Isabelle remained calm, as if shed been expecting this outburst all along. So what if were divorced? We have a child together, Daniel. I cant just ignore him.

Her casual words landed like a physical blow, leaving him frozen in place for a long, long time. Long enough for the sky outside to bleed from dusk into complete darkness.

This had happened countless times before, and every time, he had gritted his teeth and endured it. I assumed this time would be no different.

Until he suddenly asked me, If I give up on the mission whats the price?

I wasnt sure Id heard him right. My non-corporeal gaze shifted to the data screen hovering beside me. Still, a query from my host, Daniel, required a response.

Voluntarily abandoning the mission results in erasure, I stated. Your soul will be reduced to a scatter of data and will cease to exist.

Daniel was silent for a long while, his eyes fixed on the mess of broken ceramic and scattered food on the floor.

File the application for me, he said, his voice flat. Im giving up.

I hesitated, feeling an uncharacteristic urge to protest. But Isabelles affection level is already at 99%. Youre only 1% away from success.

Even at 99%, she still loves you

Daniel pulled out a cigarette and lit it, a plume of smoke veiling his expression. His voice was raspy when he spoke. This last step Ive been trying to take it for ten years.

I had no reply. I had been a silent witness to it all. For twenty years, I watched him. Hed started this purely to complete a mission, but somewhere along the way, he had fallen in. Hopelessly, completely in love.

I was about to say more when the sound of the front door opening cut me off.

Isabelle was back.

She waved a hand through the thick smoke, her gaze landing first on the shattered plates, then on Daniel. Her brow furrowed in annoyance.

I thought you quit ten years ago. Why are you smoking again? You know I hate the smell. Her tone was sharp. You made this mess, you can clean it up.

She skirted around the debris and disappeared into the bedroom. When she re-emerged, she was holding a bank card and pulling a small suitcase.

Every time she took out that card, it was to withdraw money for her ex-husband and their son. And every time, it would start a fight with Daniel.

But this time, Daniels face was a blank mask. He didnt say a word.

Isabelle paused at the door, perhaps unsettled by his silence. She glanced back at him.

My son has a fever, 102 degrees. Im not lying this time, she said. Richard is a grown man, but hes useless when it comes to taking care of a sick kid. He needs me right now. Im going to stay with them for a while

Her explanation was stiff, but it was a rare attempt to explain herself at all.

You dont have to tell me any of this, Daniel said, his voice eerily calm, as if discussing the weather. Hes your son. Its your decision.

Isabelles eyes widened slightly. On the data screen, I could see her heart rate spike. She was confused, wondering why he wasn't screaming at her like he always did.

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.

Finally, Isabelle sighed, a sound of resignation. She set down her suitcase and bent to pick up the larger shards of porcelain.

I dont even know what youre so angry about, she muttered. It was just an anniversary. We can celebrate it anytime. It doesnt matter to me, so why should it matter so much to you?

She cleaned up the mess while Daniel watched her in silence. Then, he spoke.

Isabelle, he said, his voice quiet but clear. You love Richard more than you love me, dont you?

Her hands stilled for a second. Weve been married for years, whats all this talk about love? she said dismissively. If I didnt love you, why would I have married you?

A soft ping echoed in the interface only I could perceive.

The affection level, stuck at 99% for a decade, suddenly dropped to 98%.

In that instant, I finally understood why my host was ready to abandon a mission hed poured twenty years of his life into.

Isabelles phone rang. A glance at the caller ID was all it took. She rushed toward the door.

Im leaving. I wont be back for a few days. You can deal with the rest of this.

The door slammed shut.

The moment it closed, a terrible cough wracked Daniels body, and he spat a mouthful of blood onto the clean floor. He clutched his chest, sliding down the wall until he was crumpled on the ground.

I felt a flicker of something akin to concern, but this was the systems law. When the targets affection waned, the pursuer was punished. He had failed once before, ten years ago.

I remembered him begging me that day. Im only 1% away. I cant give up now. Ill pay any price, just give me one more chance.

I gave it to him.

The price was his life force. Ten years of borrowed time had left him running on empty.

Daniel swallowed three painkillers, but his body still trembled uncontrollably from the agony. He curled into a ball in the corner until he finally passed out.

I watched his life-force meter plummet, a sense of waste filling my core processes. I used what little energy I had left to stabilize him, just long enough for the paramedics to arrive.

At the hospital, Daniel was rushed into surgery. I saw his friend, Dr. Samuel Finch, racing down the hall. Hed come the moment he heard Daniel had been brought in.

He rounded a corner and collided with Richard. Isabelles ex-husband.

Richards face lit up when he saw the doctor. Dr. Finch! Ive been trying to get an appointment with you for days. Its great to finally catch you on duty. My sons had this high fever for a while now, were not sure if its the flu or something else. If you have a moment

Sam clearly had no time for him. He brushed past, his voice clipped. Im not a pediatrician. Why me, out of all the doctors in this hospital?

Richards smile faltered. Sam, has Daniel been saying things to you?

Isabelle appeared then, hurrying toward them with their son in her arms. I could see the boy was genuinely sick, but compared to what Daniel was going through, it was a minor ailment.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped Sam. I knew he was Daniels best friend, the only other person besides me who knew the full extent of his condition.

Daniel is in the emergency room right now, fighting for his life, he snapped. Do you even know what happened to him, Isabelle? Have you ever cared?

His gaze flicked to the child in her arms, a look of pure contempt on his face. Is there any room in that heart of yours for anyone besides your ex-husband and his son?

Without waiting for an answer, Sam spun on his heel and strode away.

Through the data screen, I watched the color drain from Isabelles face. To me, these people were just data points. But I had witnessed every second of the last twenty years. I knew what Daniel had sacrificed.

Isabelle stood frozen for a long moment, then instinctively reached for her phone to call Daniel. But her son, fussy and crying, thrashed in her arms and knocked the phone from her hand.

Richard bent down and picked it up. Its okay, he said softly. If youre really worried, go ahead. The court gave me custody, after all. You can go to him if you want.

The words were weightless, but they were enough to steady Isabelles wavering resolve. I watched her affection level fluctuate wildly, dipping and rising, before finally settling back at 99%.

My son needs me, she said, her voice firm.

And she walked away.

I sighed, a purely simulated response. For the first time, I felt a pang of indignation for my host.

Hours passed before Daniel was wheeled out of the operating room. He was conscious by the time they moved him to a private room, his face gaunt and pale, his cheekbones sharp beneath his skin.

Sam stood beside the bed, staring at the chart in his hands with a complicated expression. Daniel, let me find you some experimental drugs.

Daniel just shook his head. Dont bother.

His illness wasnt natural. I had access to cures far beyond this worlds medicine, but Daniel was ineligible. Nothing could save him except completing the mission.

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but footsteps paused outside the door.

Isabelle pushed the door open. Her face fell when she saw Daniel in the bed. Youre sick?

She was holding a prescription bag, likely from the pharmacy for her son.

Just the flu, Daniel lied. Its nothing.

Isabelles shoulders relaxed. Oh. Well, get some rest. Ill check on you later.

She left as quickly as she had come, as if shed only stopped by on her way to somewhere more important. There was no concern in her voice, no warmth in her eyes.

Sam looked furious, staring at Daniel with a look of frustrated pity. Why didnt you tell her the truth?

Whats the use?

Was there any use? I remained silent. If telling her the truth would have helped, my host wouldnt have spent a decade stuck at 99%.

Sam eventually sighed and left, leaving Daniel alone in the sterile white room.

He asked me, How much longer until I leave this world?

The approval process for your withdrawal should take about a week

I didnt finish. His body was failing so fast, I wasnt sure hed make it that long.

After two days in the hospital, Daniel discharged himself and went home. The moment he walked through the door, he saw that Richard was there, too.

In just two days, the place had been completely taken over. Toys were scattered across the living room floor. Richard was on the couch, holding their son, watching TV. Isabelle was in the kitchen, cooking.

In the ten years they had been married, Isabelle had never once cooked a meal. She had relied on Daniel for everything. He had always taken care of her.

And now, here she was, in the kitchen for someone else.

My focus returned to Daniel. He showed no emotion, as if he had expected this all along. He just stood there, calmly taking in the scene.

Daniel? Long time no see. Sorry about the mess, Richard said with a lazy smile, though there was no apology in his eyes.

Daniel didnt respond.

Isabelle came out of the kitchen and froze when she saw him. Youre back. You didnt tell me you were coming. A beat. I didnt make you anything to eat.

You two go ahead, Daniel said quietly, and walked toward the bathroom.

He left the door ajar, and the sounds from the living room drifted in. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as a trickle of blood ran from his nose, dripping onto the white porcelain sink. He pressed a hand to his face, but it wouldn't stop.

A strange sadness filled my processors. Daniel had endured the pain of the systems backlash countless times.

Host, would you like a painkiller? I offered. They wouldnt do much, but they might dull the edge of the agony.

He just shook his head, too weak to speak.

The door was suddenly pushed open. Isabelles face went white. She grabbed a towel and pressed it frantically to his face.

Whats wrong with you? Why are you bleeding so much?

He pushed her hand away. Its nothing. Just stress. Itll stop.

But the blood had already soaked through half the towel. Isabelle was about to say something else when a loud crash from the living room, followed by a childs wail, stole all of her attention.

She ran out of the bathroom without a second glance.

After the bleeding finally stopped, Daniel walked out. His eyes immediately fell on the source of the noise.

I followed his gaze.

My core temperature seemed to drop.

It was the only photograph he had of the two of them, now lying shattered on the floor.

Isabelle was kneeling, cooing over her son, fussing over a small cut on his hand from the broken glass. Daniel bent down and picked up the photo from the wreckage of the frame.

I remembered when it was taken. Soon after they were married, Isabelle had said she wanted to see the ocean. Daniel had driven them to the coast to watch the sunrise.

That was the day her affection for him had hit 99%.

Back then, I had thought all his efforts had finally paid off. I never imagined that the final 1% would be a chasm he would spend the next ten years trying to cross.

The photo was ruined, slashed by a shard of glass. Daniel stared at it for a long time before dropping it into the trash can.

Isabelle noticed the gesture. After she had calmed her son down, she said to Daniel, Its just a frame. We can take another picture sometime.

Daniels lips moved, but no sound came out. He went into the bedroom and returned with a document from a drawer, its pages yellowed with age.

A divorce agreement. Hed had it ready for a long, long time. So long that even I had forgotten about it.

Lets get a divorce, he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Isabelles expression froze. Her eyes fell to the papers in his hand. The only sound in the room was the quiet ticking of a clock.

She clearly didnt take him seriously. She snatched the agreement from his hand and, without even looking at it, tossed it into the same trash can as the photo.

Her voice turned cold. Dont throw a tantrum over a broken frame. I know you dont like seeing Richard and my son here. Theres nothing between Richard and me anymore. The child is the only thing connecting us. What are you so worried about?

Every word was a lie.

Once we have a child of our own, youll understand, she continued. If you dont want to see them, Ill take them and leave.

And she did. She left with Richard and their son.

I wanted to offer some comfort to Daniel, but I didnt know what to say.

Isabelle didnt come back. A long time passed. The final approval for his withdrawal from the mission was only two days away.

Daniel acted as if nothing was wrong, but the backlash from the failed mission was a constant torment. I watched his face grow paler by the day.

Host, I said, breaking the silence. I have submitted a request for a mission parameter change. If you can get Isabelle to have one last meal with you, the mission will be considered a success.

He could go back to his own world. Free of pain, free of this life. He could see his family again.

A flicker of light appeared in his tired eyes. I knew he was listening. No one truly wants to die unless they have no other choice.

I prompted him to call Isabelle, to set a time for the next day, just before the final approval would come through. The first nine calls went to voicemail. Just as he was about to give up, on the tenth try, she answered.

What is it? Her voice was impatient.

Tomorrow its my birthday. Do you remember? Come home. Just for one meal.

His voice was hoarse, but this time, she didnt refuse.

A wave of relief washed over me. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

On Daniels birthday, I ordered a cake for him. I even started planning my next assignment after his mission was complete.

But that day, Daniel sat at the dining table starting at five in the evening.

He was still sitting there at ten.

The food had been heated and reheated until it was inedible. Finally, he gave up, slumping in his chair and staring blankly out the window.

You see? he said to me, his voice hollow. She cant even spare me a single meal.

I said nothing. The data screen showed me exactly where Isabelle was. She had intended to come home at six, but Richard had stopped her.

Do you know what today is? You promised youd take Toby to the park. Hes finally feeling better, and youre just going to leave again? I know its Daniels birthday, but he can wait.

The minutes ticked by.

Daniels phone lit up in the darkness. It was a voice message from Isabelle. He played it.

Ill be back later, I promise, her voice said, tinny through the small speaker. I promised the kid Id spend time with him, and I cant break my word. If youre hungry, just eat without me. You dont have to wait.

I started to speak. Host

Daniel didnt say a word. He blew out the single candle on his cake and took a bite.

The clock struck midnight.

I checked her progress bar.

Still 99%.

As the first second of the new day ticked over, Daniel stood up. Without a moments hesitation, he walked to the window of their eighteenth-floor apartment and stepped out into the night.