Free The Facilitator by Sahara Kelly

facilitator’s. Martine figured the psych geeks were having themselves a field day writing unintelligible but profound papers on the tendency of humans to prefer such an ending to their lives.
    For her part, it made things much simpler. She could concentrate on so many of the details that filled out the neural interface, and made her patient, the person on whom she was completely focused, feel wonderfully at home. And ready to say goodbye.
    By the time she’d finished her snack and had returned to the patient’s room, she was ready for Johann and this new experiment. It could be interesting, challenging and unlike anything she’d done before. All good, all in the interests of a successful facilitation, and to be perfectly honest, she had no qualms about spending more time with Johann.
    A win-win situation all around.
    He came up behind her, rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You ready to try this?”
    She nodded. “Absolutely.”
    “Then let’s go.”
     
    Martine couldn’t help gasping as her world shimmered into another, and she found herself standing in the middle of a large square surrounded by people.
    “The Piazza San Marco, dear.” An elderly voice sounded from beside her, and she looked down to see a woman in a wheelchair smiling up at her.
    “It’s so lovely. I can’t believe the architecture.” She gazed around her, trying to absorb the domes, the intricate carvings and the endless arches gracing the buildings around the piazza. And then there were the pigeons—and the people .
    “Having a good time, Great-grandmother?” Johann was there, bending over the wheelchair solicitously.
    “It’s wonderful, dear child. Just wonderful.” She reached out a thin hand to Martine. “And having you both here—well, it’s just what I’d hoped for.”
    “I’m so glad. It’s a special moment for all of us.” She jumped and then laughed as a bird swooped surprisingly close to her hair. She tossed back a short sandy-brown curl and felt her skirts teased by the wind. It was hot, the sun shining down from a clear blue sky.
    All the colors were sharp, the details perfect and the throngs of people astounding. Martine flashed Johann a quick glance and saw him watching her, smiling as she tried to take it all in.
    “I knew you’d like this. I saw a video of it once. Never got here myself, but I never forgot those scenes.” Mrs. Alder sighed. “To be able to share it with you, to know you’ll grow up to be a lovely happy woman…well, there isn’t much more I can ask of this life.”
    They stayed together, one on either side of Mrs. Alder’s wheelchair, just looking this way and that, soaking up the atmosphere, the air and the sounds of a city which would never look like this again in any of their lifetimes.
    Finally, the old woman tipped her head back and closed her eyes, letting the sun pour over her in a warm cascade of light. “I think I’m ready now.”
    Johann took her other hand and clasped it in his. “You will be missed, Great-grandmother.”
    “Safe journey, dear Great-grandmother.” Martine knelt and lightly kissed the wrinkled cheek. She felt the characteristic sensation of energy beginning to flow gently through her neural interface and the fading of whatever it was that made a human being human .
    But then, at the very instant she expected to shimmer back into the Eternal Tranquility room, everything stilled.
    The people around them stopped, like a video paused by a massive remote control. Birds remained aloft, shadows froze beneath the buildings—silence fell on her like a blanket.
    “What the…?”
    “Ssh.” Johann took her hand and moved her away from the wheelchair. “I hoped this would happen.”
    “What?” Martine stared at him. “What have you done?”
    “Nothing, really.” He pulled her against him. “An experiment. Close your eyes and open your thoughts, your interface. Forget the routine here. Stay open—to me.”
    Trusting him enough to do as he bid,