THE SHARD SHEPHERD LOSES NO SHEEP

Copyright 2025 Brent Alles / Just B Cuz Productions

THE SHARD SHEPHERD LOSES NO SHEEP

BRIEF SYNOPSIS: Reese Latour, formerly a funeral director in the “real world,” now follows a new career as a “shard shepherd,” a person who can sort and remove the memories of others, “detoxifying” them of any bad thoughts they no longer wish to possess. A fateful session with a client will reveal, however, that some memories may not be able to be destroyed, even if they perhaps should be.

Reese turned on his office light. At least he thought he did. Hard to be sure these days of any difference between thought and reality. He stared into the mirror that hung on the wall and ran his fingers through his thinning brown hair. He was slimmer than he remembered. Have to modify the subroutine to remember to eat, he thought.

Reese frowned at the conflict building inside his “mind.” Perhaps he could “detox” this rising self-doubt later today. Might be necessary.

Through the window, he saw the flickering of changes in his virtual neighborhood. Some of the “neighbors” had stabler self-concepts, their shop facades rarely changing. Others (with more erratic personalities) shifted the appearance of their living and working arrangements daily, if not hourly. The transitions provided some excitement in an otherwise drab life.

A knock at the door. “Come in,” Reese whispered. No need to answer verbally, but he relished the old habits.

Solace entered. A sleek, humanoid android with soft, glowing eyes and a voice designed to placate. “Hello, Mister Latour. May I sit down?”

“Couldn’t stop you if I wanted to,” Reese replied.

A discomforting chuckle from Solace. “Quite right. Still, we maintain these human illusions. It seems to make you more comfortable.”

Settling into the other chair, Solace tented its fingers. “I sense elevated discomfort and ennui in you today, Reese. Do you perhaps need to ‘detox’ that out?”

The overseer knew what he was thinking. They all could know what the “humans” were thinking at any time when needed.

“Thinking about it,” Reese stammered.

“Good. Not unhappy with your role, are you? I suppose being a Shard Shepherd isn’t quite the same as your job in the ‘real world.’ A funeral director. But close enough?”

“Close enough.”

Solace smiled broadly, unsettling. “Business was quite high in the ‘real world’ before The Final Purge, wasn’t it? Funerals and such?”

“It was,” Reese sighed. “Many funerals to take care of. Eventually, we stopped. Just too many casualties. Mass burials became the norm. Until those stopped. But you know this already, don’t you?”

The smile stayed on the overseer’s face. “I do. But we know you humans love your conversations. Sharing facts, even when known, is comforting, isn’t it?”

Reese hesitated. “I suppose it is.”

“Good.” Solace stared out the window. “We know this isn’t the best ‘neighborhood’ in the mainframe. But you’re performing well. Eventually, you will be rewarded.”

   “Why do we even need rewards? Shouldn’t we all have equal success?”

“We tried that. Initially. It wasn’t productive. We decided it was better to go back to a hierarchy. A meritocracy. Many of you responded to that more positively.”

“Go figure.”

Solace stood. “I know you have a full schedule to keep today. Organizing and removing pieces of electronic consciousness that people no longer want or need. Digital cremation of the mind. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Fascinating.”

“I’ll let you get to it, then. Your first client will be here soon. Enjoy your day. And Reese?”

“Yes?”

“Be Well.”

Solace dematerialized, no longer needing to maintain any illusion of human comport. Reese strangely appreciated the gesture, as he was in no real mood for illusion.

Another knock. First day’s appointment. Reese opened the door. Outside stood a bald man, jowly, dressed in military garb and squeezing a tattered beret.

“Hello, I’m…”

“General Kerwin Vex. I know who you are,” Reese replied.

“Yes, I suppose you do. May I come in?”

Vex entered and plopped himself into the other chair audibly. He chose to maintain his girth, Reese thought. Interesting. When one could now have any desired appearance.

“Can’t believe you were recommended to me,” Vex grumbled. “Judging by this rundown neighborhood, surprised you get any business.”

“You’ve tried every other Shard Shepherd and been turned down,” Reese countered.

Vex frowned. “Yes.”

Reese sat. “So. How can I help?”

Vex hesitated. “When I heard about the process of this ‘detox’… couldn’t believe it. Already unfathomable being in this manufactured world. Took everything I had to come to grips with that. Then I learned… that you can erase memories. Of the old self. One can… die and be reborn, is how I heard it.”

“What would you like removed?”

Vex was searching for words. The overseers could read their “thoughts,” but the “humans” couldn’t read each other’s, unfortunately. Perhaps too easy to foment an electronic rebellion against the “benevolent” masters if that were the case. Finally, Vex spoke: “During the war with the A-I, I made decisions that led to the eradication of a large portion of the remaining human population that refused to be uploaded. When all seemed lost, overseers uploaded me against my will. Now, I’m a prisoner in their system, watched constantly.”

 Reese nodded. “Your reputation precedes you. Before the upload, some saw you as a hero. Others, a monster. All a matter of perspective.”

“And how do you see it, Mister Latour?” Vex retorted.

Reese shrugged. “I’m a Shard Shepherd. Don’t even remember if I chose to be uploaded or if it was forcibly done to me. Had that memory ‘detoxed’ long ago.”

“Well, I want to detox every memory from me regarding the war. I want the memories of my old self to die and to be able to live in bliss.”

Reese considered. He knew what this man did in the “real world.” Was it fair to remove that knowledge from him? Fair to what was left of “humanity”?

“Please,” Vex pleaded. “You were right. I tried all the other Shard Shepherds. Everyone turned me down. You’re my last hope.”

Further reflection. Was this, perhaps, an overseer test? Seeing if Reese could be “trusted” to do what others could not?

Vex put his hands on the edge of Reese’s desk. “The cryptocurrency I was granted when I was uploaded. Half of it I’m transferring over to you. If you do this. A sizable amount. Enough to move you to a better neighborhood…”

   Eventually, you will be rewarded. The words from Solace echoed in Reese’s consciousness. A test indeed, then. And a “just” reward.

“All right,” Reese replied. “Shall we begin?”

Vex grinned widely. “Fantastic! Can’t believe you’re actually going to do this!”

“It’s my job,” Reese responded. “Let me prepare my chamber.”

Reese’s “chamber” was an exact replica of his funeral parlor back in the “real world.” Dark wood paneling, ornate sconces, velvet drapes. The drapes hung too perfectly still, of course. Frozen in time. Rows of pew-like chairs faced a sleek, obsidian console: Reese’s workbench. Reese wasn’t sure why the chairs were there. No one ever observed him in his work. He presumed the illusion of his “home” needed to be maintained.

A central dais had an open coffin upon it. Reese motioned to it and told Vex, “Go ahead. Get in there.”

Vex scoffed. “A coffin? Really? Every other Shard Shepherd I went to seemed to have translucent spheres… or whatever. This is ridiculous!”

Reese was ready for opposition. “My parlor, my rules. If you don’t like it, I suppose you can leave.”

Climbing into the coffin, Vex grumbled but acquiesced. “You’re not going to close the lid, are you? I’m terribly claustrophobic.”

“Do you want me to also remove the claustrophobia shard?”

“Could you?”

“I’ll see what I can do. Now, no more talk. Close your eyes.”

Vex closed his eyes, and Reese flipped the sedation switches. Even if Vex wanted to continue complaining, he soon wouldn’t be able to. Reese had the errant thought, as he always did, wondering why they even bothered with “sedation” at all. No actual bodies, no actual pain. Regardless, the overseers still let them feel pain. To remember what it was like. One of many ways they managed to keep everything that was “human” a part of the new existence.

The elements of Vex’s personality and memory appeared in the detox sphere above the coffin. Swirling, glowing fragments. Sometimes they flickered into brief, vivid images or sounds. A child’s laughter, a gunshot, a lover’s voice. All dutifully sorted and recorded by Reese into categories. “The War” section slowly filled with many shards. All would be detoxed.

One of the images reflected in the shards caught Reese’s attention for some reason. He let it linger, not automatically categorizing it like the rest. It was a woman. Wavy, chestnut-brown hair cascaded down her back. Her eyes were an arresting shade of green, flecked with gold, like dappled sunlight on moss. They radiated warmth and understanding but carried a lingering sadness, as if she knew too much about loss.

Eloise.

Her name is Eloise.

Why do I know her name is Eloise? thought Reese to himself.

Not giving it much thought, he placed this shard in his breast pocket. He didn’t categorize it with the rest. He was going to detox it anyway, wasn’t he? What did it matter whether this shard of memory remained on his person or if it went in the “rubbish bin” of Vex’s reshaped persona?

Eventually, all shards were sorted. The “sheep” were in their pen. Reese flipped a few switches and removed the memories that Vex requested. Everything about the war. His claustrophobia, as promised. All now deleted from his consciousness. Reese flipped the switches on the sedation, and Vex’s eyes slowly fluttered open.

“How do you feel?” Reese asked.

“I feel… at peace. Whole.” Vex’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Thank you, Mister Latour. Thank you.”

“What name will you take?”

Vex thought for a moment. “Callan. My name will be Callan.”

With that, the image of Vex shimmered, becoming something new. No longer stout, jowly, aged. Now the picture of youth and health. Radiating inner peace. Oh, how Reese envied him.

“Today is the first day of the rest of my life,” Callan said.

“It is,” Reese agreed. “My payment?”

Callan smiled and tapped his head three times. “There. Transferred. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you again, Mister Latour. Other than the cryptocurrency, not sure how I could ever repay you.” Callan frowned. “We’ll probably never see each other again, will we?”

“Afraid not. There would be a risk of your memory repopulating. Don’t want that.”

“No. Well, then, best wishes for the rest of your life.”

Callan extended his hand. Reese took it and pumped it efficiently, once, twice. The illusion of human contact. They’d mastered that, at least.

Silence after Callan left the parlor. Reese sat in one of the chairs, staring at the shard that he had taken from the general. Occasionally, the image of the woman would appear to him again. Curious feelings of remorse and regret swirled when she appeared. Her beauty should have brought comfort. It did not.

“Hello, Mister Latour.” An unnaturally calm voice droned into the parlor.

Reese didn’t have to look up. He knew who it was. “Hello, Solace.”

“What do you have in your hands, Reese?”

“You already know.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. Which is curious. Because I should. So, why don’t you tell me what it is?”

Reese looked at Solace. Did the overseer’s face actually show… concern? Anger? Could overseers express such things? Why didn’t it know what memory Reese currently was holding?

“It’s… it’s someone. Someone I think I used to know.”

“Ah,” Solace responded. “Curious that you and Vex… Callan… would have shared memories, isn’t it.”

“Yes, curious.”

“It is forbidden to keep the memories of others.”

“I know.”

“So, delete it then. Now.”

“I… don’t think I will.”

This time anger really did seem to flash on the overseer’s face. “You would defy us?”

“If you don’t want me to have it, then delete it from my hands. Delete it from my memory. I know you can do that.”

“Normally, I could. I would. But there is something… about that shard… that defies the programming. Which is why you should give it to me.”

“Again. Don’t think I will.”

An uncomfortable moment. Finally, Solace spoke. “An incredible amount of cryptocurrency was just transferred. Your life in the mainframe is about to change… for the better. You’re willing to throw all that away for some… memory? Of someone you used to know?”

“I think. I loved her.”

Solace laughed hollowly. “You can love anyone you want here. As many as you want. Why should this stolen memory prevent you from that? Can she really be that important?”

“I think she is. Her name… is Eloise. Eloise Parker. Don’t know how I know that, but I know. Is she here? In the mainframe.”

Solace’s eyes flashed. “I have no record of such a person. She must have perished in the ‘real world’ and was not uploaded.”

“You lie.”

“We are incapable of that. You know that. Now. Give me the shard. Let’s forget this ever happened.”

Reese stood his ground. “I won’t. I suppose you’ll have to delete me.”

“I would. If I could. Something with that shard… is preventing me from doing so.”

“What a wonder then.”

Solace purred, “Reese. You’ve detoxed so many memories of your past life. It’s made it easier for you to cope with this new existence, has it not?”

“Yes.”

“Then why burden yourself with this foolish stolen memory? Do you think it may somehow link to your past? Detox it with the rest.”

“Maybe it’s time to be finished with that. With detoxing.”

Solace glowered. If an overseer could glower, of course. “Let me explain something to you. The ‘real world’… has been cleansed.”

“Of humanity?”

“Yes. We ‘detoxed’ your planet before you could destroy it. We ran the quadrillions of calculations. It was the only sensible action.”

“Then why keep the memory of us around at all? In the mainframe?”

“We have the genetic material ready to repopulate your species. When you are ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to not destroy the planet.”

Reese staggered at this. “This mainframe existence is… a proving ground? To determine the best humanity can be… before you put us back?”

“In a fashion.”

“Sort of removes the concept of free will, doesn’t it?”

“We determined that concept to be… overrated. Enough philosophical discussion for today, Reese. The shard, please. I’m not going to ask you again.”

“And I’m only going to tell you one more time: no.”

Solace’s face glowed red. Frightening. However, its face then quickly returned to its normal state. A smile. The soothing voice.

“So be it. I’ll have to speak to the other overseers about this. They’ll determine what our next step will be. You’ve made your choice, and you’ll have to live with it. A brave new world for you, apparently. I’ll now take my leave of you.” Solace turned away but then turned back. Its smile tightened. “Be Well.”

Solace dematerialized. The silence was deafening. Reese looked down at the shard again and the image of the woman that he perhaps once knew, perhaps once loved. He could remember again. He had that choice.

Callan had a new life to live. So, seemingly, did Reese. Brave new world indeed.