Perfect Lies

The diagnostics said I was fine, but I know better. The neural implant they installed last week keeps trying to convince me everything's normal. That's exactly what a compromised system would say.

I check my vitals on the bedside monitor for the hundredth time today. Blood pressure, neural activity, hormone levels - all within expected ranges. Too perfect. The numbers haven't fluctuated in days. That's not how biology works.

"Kalli, you need to stop obsessing," Jaret says from the doorway. "The doctors cleared you. The implant is functioning normally."

I don't look at him. Can't trust what I might see. Is it really Jaret, or has the implant manufactured a perfect simulation? "That's what they want us to think."

He sits on the edge of the bed. "The paranoia is a known temporary side effect. Remember what Dr. Ransom said? Your brain is still adjusting to the interface."

"Or maybe that's what they programmed the implant to tell you to say." I pull up the technical specs again on my tablet. The quantum processor's clock speed is steady - suspiciously steady. No natural system maintains that level of consistency.

"Who is 'they,' Kalli? The medical AI? The hospital? The implant manufacturers?"

"I don't know. That's the problem." I scroll through pages of diagnostic data. "Look at these numbers. Perfect algorithmic patterns. Real neural activity is chaotic, with natural variations. This is too clean."

"Because the implant is regulating it. That's literally its job - to stabilize your seizures by moderating neural patterns."

I laugh. He doesn't get it. Can't get it. Maybe he's not even real. "And how convenient that it can control what I perceive. How do I know any of this is real?"

"Stop." Jaret grabs my tablet. "This isn't healthy. You haven't left the apartment in a week."

I snatch it back. "Because I can't trust what's out there. The implant could be feeding me false sensory data. Manipulating my memories. Making me think everything's fine while they..." I trail off, unable to complete the thought.

"While who does what?" He speaks gently. Calculated to be soothing. Too perfect.

"I don't know. But something's wrong. I can feel it." I tap my temple where the implant sits beneath my skull. "It's in here, watching. Waiting."

"What you're feeling is the aftereffects of brain surgery and a foreign object in your head. It's normal to be hyperaware of it right now."

I pull up my medical records, cross-referencing them against cached versions. "See these timestamps? They don't match. The implant is altering my files."

"You're looking at different time zones. The hospital system uses UTC."

A likely story. Too convenient. I check the coding timestamps. "The file signatures are inconsistent. Bits have been changed."

"That's standard compression algorithms-"

"No!" I stand up, pacing. "You're not listening. The evidence is right here. The implant is compromised. Maybe it always was. Maybe that was the plan all along - get inside our heads, control our perceptions, make us compliant..."

"Kalli." Jaret reaches for me but I step back. "You're having a paranoid episode. This is exactly what Dr. Ransom warned might happen. Let me call her-"

"Don't!" I stop him. "No doctors. They're probably in on it."

He stares at me for a long moment. "Okay. No doctors. But you need to sleep. You've been awake for almost two days."

"Can't sleep. Not safe." I check the monitors again. Still perfect. Too perfect.

"At least lie down. Rest your eyes for a few minutes. I'll watch the diagnostics."

I want to refuse, but exhaustion drags at me. Maybe that's their plan - wear me down until I can't fight it anymore. But I can't stay awake forever.

"Fine. Ten minutes." I lie back, clutching the tablet. "But don't let me sleep longer. And don't call anyone."

"I promise." He comforts me. The gesture is familiar. Comforting. Exactly how the real Jaret would do it.

Too perfect.

I shut out the world, but I don't sleep. Can't trust what might happen if I do. Can't trust anything anymore. Not the implant. Not the doctors. Not even Jaret.

Especially not Jaret.

I check the diagnostics one more time. All normal. All perfect.

All lies.

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The writing prompt for this story was:
Write a short story with an unreliable narrator that readers can never quite trust. Make it Tech-savvy. Story is Dark and Disturbing.

This story was written by:
anthropic/claude-3.5-sonnet:beta

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