He had thought long and hard before having the procedure done. It was, or rather had been, irreversible. No mucking about being invisible for a crime spree and then turning back up, mysteriously rich. It was the only fair way to grant invisibility to non-conformers. It had been explained in excruciating and bombastic legal detail everything that was going to happen, and what it would mean. How to get your food tokens and the five star restaurants that would take them, the luxury apartment high rise, and how access to the Alexandrian Library would work. It had all sounded so…perfect.
Of course, it was all slightly less thrilling than one might imagine. Henryk turned away from the gorgeous view at the window. He looked across the room to where the Ascension table stood, the remains of lunch littering its glossy surface. He has been so caught up in the idea of being invisible that he had glossed over some of the details in the contract. Sure, they had supplied everything they had promised: fine living, access to books and movies, classy gyms with racks of shiny exercise equipment. But, he had somehow overlooked or disregarded the bit where being invisible was exactly that.
Unseen. Unheard. Mute.
Not there in any meaningful way and certainly no contact with other humans.
Robots and machines took care of the other invisibles. The portion of the city where they lived was surrounded by a force field, also invisible. Beyond that, there was a four hundred no-pass zone that humans weren’t allowed in. And there was no tri-net in here. No way to reach out.
Worse? Because the procedure made you unseeable, unhearable, and unable to speak, Henryk couldn’t even find other invisibles to commiserate their fate with.
Being invisible was Hell on earth.