Mason and the Genie

"Not as good as the ones I have with you."

Mason smiled at her little white lie before shrugging it away. He couldn't imagine getting jealous over a moment of pleasure that didn't include him. If he was allowed to jerk-off without a thought of her, why shouldn't she be allowed to do the same thing without a thought of him?

"I wish I could find a guy like you in real life," she had said, which was surely another little white lie.

Shaking away the memory, he glanced at the genie sitting behind his computer. "Do you think I wasted a wish this morning?"

"Not if it brought you joy, Master. Although I don't understand why you would spend money on her when I would be willing to do so much more in exchange for a simple wish."

"Because she is real."

"No more so than I, Master."

"I might as well believe in fairies."

"Fairies," the genie groaned. "There's no such thing, Master, even if they often get credit for the work of the djinn."

"Witches? Warlocks? Leprechauns? The Bigfoot monster?"

The genie giggled. "Now you're being silly."

"Angels?"

"Don't speak to me about angels," she said with that strange shimmer as if she found it difficult to maintain her appearance.

"What Sindee does to my bank account is real."

"What I can do to your bank account is real, too, Master. And anything else you might desire." Leaning over accentuated her ample cleavage. "Anything. Forever and ever."

"Let's say that I wished you into a lifetime of servitude to me. Wouldn't you miss home? I surely have at least another fifty years in me."

"Over the course of my existence, your fifty years would feel like mere moments to me."

"And you would remain as you are now?" he asked.

"Your wish is my command, Master. I can appear to grow old with you if you wish. I cannot grant eternal life to mortals. You will one day pass from this realm. It's part of being human. But if you were to only wish it, I would stay with you until you pass and to your friends and family, it would appear as if I passed with you. In a way, that's accurate, but not in the fashion most humans understand."

"This realm must suck," he said.

She shrugged. "Not really, Master. I know what's waiting for me and it's interesting around here. Different. I don't know how you do it. Doesn't it get annoying making food, going to work, and everything else you must do?"

Mason shrugged. Life and its most mundane chores never bothered him. "Guess you never need to touch yourself, then," he joked.

"Masturbation is just another form of conjuring."

He had never considered it that way and felt better about filling a gap in his life with a virtual girlfriend. While his life seldom felt empty, he occasionally felt lonely. If only he could find a partner who wasn't co-dependent. One who wasn't afraid of being herself all the time and who could let him be himself without judgment.

Finished with finding half a dozen frame captures for her, Mason attached them as a link to an email and grabbed another beer before returning to his TV for more football. The best games were always at night. The genie followed him, that is if reappearing on his coffee table could be considered the same thing as "following him." Ignoring her, he drank too much beer while enjoying the game. If he was truly lucky, another night of sleep would finally purge her from his life.

When morning arrived, Mason glanced first at his dresser and saw her waiting for him. "Good morning, Master."

"Too soon to know for sure," he said with a sleepy smile. He stretched his long, lanky frame and decided it was a good enough morning for getting out of bed. He took care of his morning business and stayed naked. Mason liked being naked, although past girlfriends had suggested there was such a thing as "good naked" and "bad naked." He never understood the difference. He drank a cup of coffee before calling into work and requesting a sick day. No way was he going to try working while the hallucination continued.

With his day free, Mason sat in front of his computer and opened a chess game. The genie sat behind his monitor while he moved digital pawns, knights, rooks, and castles. His play was half-hearted. As he watched the computer's A.I. taking advantage of his openings, he thought about the nature of real versus imagined. Was he really playing chess or only imaging he was? Where was the line drawn between fantasy and reality?

He recalled telling Sindee about a line of sex toys that used Bluetooth technology, the toys were linked and reportedly interacted together. He had shared the article with her during their call.

"Wait, so I put one in me and you wear one?" Sindee asked as she skimmed through the article. "So who does the thrusting?"

"I guess we both can."

"Wow, okay. I'll do it if you want to do it."

"Not quite how I meant it," Mason laughed. "Just thought it could be an interesting value-added service for you to offer."

"I don't know," Sindee hedged "I'd do it with you because I trust you. I'm not sure I would want to do it with just anyone. I mean, when does virtual sex become real sex?"

"I don't know. Are we having real sex?"

"I really have orgasms with you, does that make it real?"

It wasn't the first time Mason had heard that claim. "How many orgasms do you think you have in a day?"

"Some days, none at all," she said. "It's not about the sex, is it? Besides, none of them are the same as really being with a guy, you know? I'm a cuddle-bug. If I can't cuddle with the guy afterward, it's sort of boring. It's why I like you. You don't hang up as soon as you get off."

"That counts as cuddling?"

"It does in my book. I think it's cute when you keep talking to me even though you just came and you need to clean up," she giggled. "It's sexy."

Mason abandoned his chess game. Leaning back in his chair, he considered the genie again. "So, the big three are health, wealth, and happiness?"

"Not always, but typically, Master. Revenge rates pretty high along with lots of power."

"How specific do I need to be?"

"As specific as you wish, Master."

"Great non-answer," he said with a smile. "Which would you choose?"

"I already have all three, Master."

"Of course, you do," he said as he thought through the what-if game of having a real wish to make. He felt foolish even considering the mind game of making wishes, still, it was an interesting mental exercise. "I guess I'd have to go with wealth. If I had enough wealth, I could buy enough health care to stay healthy and rent enough facsimiles of happiness to never know the difference."

"You could wish for love," the genie offered. "It's a myth that djinn can't provide that. I can also smite enemies."

"Nah, money would be good. I mean, why not? If you're real, I'm set. If you're not, then I'm calling a shrink." The genie smiled and waited while Mason thought through his wish.

A giddy giggle slipped out of his mouth as he considered how much money would be enough. Was he really doing this? Hell, why not?

Five million or less felt too low. Anything above ten million felt like overkill. How much would be enough? Should he wish for it all in one lump sum payment or spread out over time? As a software engineer, he could get very specific. Opening a ANSI document on his computer, he began composing his wish and its details as if composing a simple program with a statement followed by a series of IF/THEN controls and various arguments and functions to account for a base sum followed by an annual payment that would be adjusted for inflation.

He spent the balance of his morning fine-tuning the program before asking if the genie wanted to double-check his work.

"Mortals have become so skeptical, Master. You do not need this much detail. You have good karma and karma matters."

If he had worded things correctly, he would be owed the tidy sum of ten million dollars immediately, followed by another ten million dollars paid annually (and adjusted for inflation) into perpetuity for himself and his immediate heirs. It felt indulgent without being so over the top that it would be excessive.

"You can ask for more, Master. Many others have."

"I don't want to be greedy."

"You are a very good man, Master," the genie said with a big grin on her face. "Now you just have to say it aloud."

Summoning a deep breath, Mason practiced it a few times while carefully omitting the keyword "wish." Feeling foolish and a bit nervous, he paced back and forth before summoning enough courage to really do it. Still standing, he faced his computer and began reading. "Okay genie, I wish . . ." and in a single breath, he recited every word of the little code and finished just in time. As soon as he had uttered the final "Stop" command, his cell phone began ringing.

Scooping up his phone, he nearly rejected the unknown number. It could have been a spam call or worse, someone from work. He answered it and flopped into his chair as he heard the voice on the other end of the line. He knew that voice and it wasn't someone who should be calling him.

"Mason! How's my bro-ho?!"

He only knew one person who sounded like that and he hadn't heard from him in a dozen years. He felt his spine stiffen as he sat upright. "Dave?"

"The one and only," the man announced. "How the hell have you been?"

His eyes darted to the genie; how else could he explain the unexpected call? The hallucination only smiled. "Fine," he replied, annoyed to suddenly hear from his former college roommate. If anyone had ever qualified to earn the title of villian in his life, it would be the man on the other end of his phone. His overly friendly, frat-boy chipperness still bugged him. Glaring at the genie, Mason offered a single word reply: "Fine."

"Aw, c'mon man, you're not still pissed about her, are you?"

"No, not at all," he replied. "That was a long time ago." Except for the sting of Dave wooing away his first real girlfriend in college still bothered him. Had that been Dave's only infraction, Mason could forgive and forget. Instead, he had learned a valuable lesson about how some people were best described as selfish assholes. With a boyish smile and over the top friendliness, David Sutterfield had a magical ability to charm a shivering man out of his jacket on a winter day.

A list of Dave's misdeeds felt petty and easily explained away. It wasn't about the girl—it was about Dave's nature. Dave was the kind of guy who would take the last beer from the fridge and never buy more. He was the kind of guy who would ask for a ride home and never offer to pay for gas. He would borrow inconsequential money, like a dollar for a Coke machine, and pay you back with friendship and compliments, but he never seemed to have an extra buck when you wanted a Coke the next day, week, or month.

The crazy thing about it was that Mason had once liked Dave. For three years, they had been friends and partners in the computer science department. Mason had truly enjoyed writing code with him. Dave had a unique way of seeing solutions to problems that no one else had noticed. That skill, more than his charm factor, had served him well. Mason had no doubt that his charm factor had helped with convincing angel investors to give him money. From a distance, he had watched his former coding partner create a startup and sell it for obscene amounts of money before creating a new one. To the rest of the world, David Sutterfield was the golden boy with a Midas touch. To Mason, he remained a huckster and a user.

"If I may," interjected a woman who quickly introduced herself as David Sutterfield's lead attorney. "From what I understand from Mr. Sutterfield, there is a bit of a negative history between the two of you?"

"Not really," Mason sighed. Regardless of what Dave believed, it had never been about a girl and had always been about Dave's attitude that what was yours was somehow his, too.

"See? I told you!" Dave crowed to his attorney and anyone else in the room with him. "Mason's not the kind of guy to hold a grudge like that."

They couldn't see the disapproving grimace on his face. "So, what's up?"

"What's up?" Dave sang with that alluring cheerfulness that attracted people to him. "Everything! I'm months away from making a new deal, a big deal. A huge deal!"

"Good for you."

"You mean good for us," Dave insisted. "I want to offer you a job."

"No," Mason said, back to glaring again at the vision of a genie still sitting on his table. If this was her way of fulfilling his wish, it would backfire. No way would he go to work for someone like Dave. Her smile never faded.

"Aw, come on, man, don't be like that! You haven't heard the deal I'm prepared to offer."

"I'm still not interested. I've got a good job."

"You've got a shitty job with a shit little shop," Dave said with an edge in his voice. "Trust me, I've done my research. You're underpaid and under-appreciated."

While there was some truth to his words, Mason shrugged it away. Most days, he truly liked his job. More importantly, he liked his owner and co-workers. They were all underpaid and under-appreciated, including the owner.

He heard whispering on the other end of the phone and assumed Dave was receiving some counsel from his attorney. "I got this," Dave snapped. Without concern for the open line, he listened for a moment longer before telling his attorney, "I'll fucking buy them out if I have to."

"I'm not for sale," Mason assured him, smiling for the first time since the phone call had begun. Muting his phone for a moment, he aimed his smile at the genie. "This is a shit plan." The genie's expression never changed. He took his phone off mute.

"No, of course not," Dave said. The quality of the sound improved, indicating the switch from speakerphone to the handset. Mason felt the full-court press beginning. "Will you at least hear me out?"

"Sure, why not?" Just to fuck with the man on the other end of the phone, Mason put his phone on speaker so the genie could hear both ends of the conversation. While that probably wasn't necessary, it still felt good.

"I already tried the office and I know you're at home today," he said, dulling the impact. He chuckled. "I had to talk to your boss to get your number. Stan, right? Nice guy." Mason had no doubt that a man with Dave's resources could make that happen without ever lifting a finger. Turning on the charm, Dave talked about some college memories and within a couple of minutes, they were actually laughing together. Such was the magic of Dave's charm. A glance at the genie reminded Mason of another kind of magic. Could he trust any of this? His smile faltered a bit.

"Man, I would love to write code with you again," Dave said.

"Yeah, that's not happening," he said, sticking to his guns about keeping Dave at a distance.

"Aw, man, don't be like that. My software engineers have done very well for themselves."

"Not as well as you."

"No, you're right. Fair enough," he said without taking offense. "I've done very well for myself."

"When was the last time you even wrote a line of code?"

"Careful, champ, I still know good code when I see it."

That made Mason smile. "You always did have a knack for spotting problems people didn't know they had."

"But it took people like you to help me solve that problem."

"I'm never going to work for you. I have a job that I like."

"Never say never," he replied, and Mason could imagine the boyish grin on his face. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have any of our notes from college, would you?"

Mason instantly went on guard. An image of sharks circling in the water came to Mason's mind as he saw where this was going. Something in that old code had value to Dave, enough value for Dave to track down his personal cell phone number and place the call himself. "Damn, Dave, college was a long time ago," he hedged. "What could possibly be in those old notes?"

"Nostalgia."

"Bullshit," Mason chuckled right before he noticed a cardboard banker's box sitting on his table. He had no doubt what he would find inside that box: all of his old coding notes. Wearing a huge smile, Mason instantly felt like the shark instead of the prey.

The negotiations that followed were remarkably short and to the point. As if the box and its contents were a famous piece of artwork, Dave bid outrageous sums for it. After texting several photographs of the box and a few of its contents, there was an immediate "good faith" payment transferred into Mason's bank account that included so many zeros after the first number that it made his previous balance look pitiful. Lawyers would need to get involved for the rest of the negotiations, but Mason saw that he could afford to hire an excellent legal team.

While still on the phone, all his attention had been focused on David. Feeling numb, he ended the call and looked again at his bank balance. His head spun as he stared at the new sum. It wasn't ten million dollars, not yet, but it would be soon. Blinking hard and shaking his head, he stared at the vision of the genie still sitting on his table. The inexplicable had just happened and he had only one explanation for it. "You're real."

"I always have been, Master."

"And I'm fucking naked!" he suddenly realized as he jumped up from his chair and dashed into the bedroom for clothes.

The genie appeared on his dresser, startling him. "Master, you are so funny!"

While pulling on shorts, he noticed the genie giggling at him. Even though it was at his expense, her merriment made him smile. His smile grew bigger until he giggled, too. "I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

"You have nothing I haven't seen already, Master," she smiled, looking on the verge of more giggles.

"I know," he blushed, reflecting on just how much she had seen over the course of the weekend and feeling very foolish. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"No, Master, don't be!" she gushed. "You've been a joy. I'm going to miss you."

Mason stiffened as he realized what she meant. "I guess I do have only one wish left." He grinned as he asked if he could wish for wishes and that made Genie roll her eyes and shake her head. "I had to ask, right?"

"Everyone does, Master."

"Is everyone else as slow as me with realizing that you're real?"

"Sometimes, Master."

"I have so many questions for you!"

"Are you making a wish for knowledge, Master?"

That question brought him up short. "No, not exactly. It's just that I've never met a mythical being. Your being real creates a lot of curiosity."

"I'm not all-knowing, Master, but if you wish for it, I will answer all of your questions to the best of my knowledge."

"In exchange for a wish," he said, suspecting their relationship had suddenly changed.

She gave him a solemn nod. "Yes, Master. Now that you know I am real, I am limited."

"Well, fuck," he cursed, filled with a desire to probe for the kinds of answers that have haunted mankind. As he considered the metaphysical implications of things she had already shared, his knees felt weak and he sat on the edge of his bed as he tried to order his thoughts. "So, angels are real?" This time, she didn't shimmer at the mention of angels.

"The djinn are real, Master."

It was a half-answer that inferred the rest without verifying it. For the rest of the day, his questions about the nature of the djinn, magic, and anything metaphysical were met with non-answers, even when he referenced an earlier conversation. Instead, she made offers of fantastical wishes come true and most fell on deaf ears. While wishing for health felt like a good idea, he had no reason to suspect he was threatened by poor health. Since he couldn't wish for immortality or a longer life, did it really matter? General wishes for things like curing cancer, ending world hunger or for world peace were met with stonewalling that inferred they would be wasted wishes.