Story 243: Life Coach

Gary's finger hovered over the 'send' button, but didn't click. Could he do it?
"Send it," the Voice said, "The reward is worth the risk. You hate this job anyway." He hit send, and felt his whole body relax. It would all be okay.

The Voice had never steered him wrong. Every big decision in Gary's life had been accompanied by the Voice, usually giving him some specific course of action but occasionally just dispensing vague encouragement. Gary had occasionally wondered if he was crazy, but it wasn't like the voice ever told him to do anything bad or yelled at him or anything. He assumed it was technically a mental illness but if it was one that helped him sort his life out then what could be the point of getting it treated?

"That should put him on track to get the job at Century One," the Voice said, followed by some sort of background murmuring. That had never happened before. "No," it continued, "a nice desk job. Management. That'll keep him away from anything related to design and still satisfy his desire for authority." The background murmur returned, and Gary strained to listen but couldn't make out actual words. "That's one way, sure, and I almost took that opportunity. Actually my last guy I didn't even need it, I just made sure his dad wore a condom and it was all sorted out. But this one is too old, I got to him at... what, thirteen? So I'm taking the Ross strategy out for a spin."

Gary logged out of his computer and headed into the break room. He couldn't concentrate, but suddenly felt certain it would be a mistake to let the Voice know he could hear it. That meant he had to do something simple, so he pulled his lunch box out of the refrigerator and started to make a sandwich.
"Well that's the problem, yeah. You try something too big and they snap back into place like history is trying to preserve itself. That's why you have to be gentle. Little nudges. Like, Gary here, no matter what I did he was going into the tech industry. I couldn't have stopped him no matter what. But now that I've kept him happy and heading up the ladder he'll be a useless middle manager and he won't invent shit."

Keep calm, Gary thought. He spread the mayonnaise on and started layering lunchmeat as the background voice droned on. Eventually the Voice returned. "Well sure, but I like to think it's worth it. It's more work but a happy guy doesn't exterminate most of Europe, right? Nobody with a fulfilling life gets up one morning and says 'hey, just for a change, let's invent a swarm of nanobots I can use to take over the world' or anything. They just feel a little dissatisfied and get a new car." Gary started eating the sandwich, not tasting anything. He stared straight ahead, remembering the things the Voice had said to him. Things that pointed him away from politics, away from engineering.

It had helped him though, right? Certainly it felt like his life was going well. If the Voice had steered him away from his side projects in the garage and towards time with his family, if it had gotten him involved in community service projects that kept him busy and scratched his itch for leadership, well... that was fine. Right?
"No, that would be too forceful. Gary would have rejected that immediately. Trust me, some part of him is looking for any excuse. If I push too hard he'll just turn around and do the opposite. Hell, he might even get himself put on paliperidone which would cut off communication. Trust me, I've been working with this guy for a long time. If he felt like he was being manipulated we'd be back to Emperor Gary in no time. Baby steps, Ester. That's the key."

But had it all been helpful? What had it been preventing? Emperor Gary? Emperor? And why keep him doing little things, local things? The Voice wanted him happy, but in a cage. Content and insignificant. Of course.
"But I mean... oh shit, my mic is on."
And who the hell was it working for? Gary had assumed it was his own mental voice, or some sort of guardian angel. But this was an employee, working for someone with an agenda. Who was to say their agenda was the right one?
"Gary, you're probably very confused right now."
Gary stood up, threw his lunch in the trash.
"Gary? I need you to listen to me, to trust me."
The more he thought about it the more he felt anger bubbling deep inside his chest. The anger management class, that had been the Voice too.
"This is... I want what's best for you Gary. Best for everyone."
They would have kept him from ever being born if they could, he had heard it. They, whoever they are, were working to deny him his destiny.
"Please listen, Gary."
Gary thought again of all the projects he had started to design, the classes he had meant to take, the innovations he had been thinking of fleshing out before the Voice had encouraged him to do something... fuzzy. Something that felt good in the moment but accomplished nothing of true import.

He pulled up a web search for paliperidone, and heard the Voice swear before it cut out entirely. Now there was just murmuring, multiple Voices deep in the background arguing about something. He imagined a headset left dangling off the edge of a desk in a panic. Yes, he thought, panic. You don't get to feel like you're in control anymore.