Holographic Holding

At 8 AM, just like every morning, he flickered to life. Miniscule emitters on the surroundings projected him onto the street, along with signage for road closure, a detour, and even a minimap for it. He himself was an anthropomorphized beagle (or rather, a hologram of one) that stood at nearly an average person’s height. He was also wearing a semi-formal construction worker outfit: A long-sleeved dress shirt, slacks, high-visibility bands, and a white hard hat. His droopy eyes and floppy ears made him an appealing figure to take directions from.

He didn’t really have a name. He had a serial number, sure. But other than that there was no real need to have a name. He could talk, he was even self-aware and had general knowledge to provide help, such as other directions or nearby recommendations. However, ultimately, the majority of the people he saw were inside cars, trying to get somewhere. On the occasion he did see pedestrians or anyone willing to talk, they usually didn’t need a name to converse. But sometimes he was called things like “Mr. Beagle” or “Beagle Boy”. He liked that.

His days typically went without issue. Physical traffic cones helped enforce the road closure, so really he was just a particularly cute and fancy sign. He had a hologram of an LED traffic wand too, just to really sell the whole thing. Cars came by and he would stop them ahead of the closure, then point them down their immediate right. He took pride in maintaining a constant flow of traffic despite the trouble caused by the road closure.

That said, one day, he did run into someone particularly obstinate. Or rather, they ran into him. It was around 10 AM in the middle of the week, when he saw a cyclist coming down the road. They were going rather fast, but wobbly, swerving all over the road. Mr. Beagle put his hands in the air, attempting to indicate to the cyclist to stop. But they didn’t seem to be paying attention or slowing down. As a more final measure, he stepped directly into the road with his arms in the cyclist’s path.

Ed very quickly came to a stop, although at the cost of losing control of his bike and nearly falling over entirely. As soon as he was able he got off his bike and left it on the ground saying, “What’s the big idea?!”

Up close he could see now that the cyclist was a man, sweating through his t-shirt. Mr. Beagle calmly responded, “The road ahead is closed. You’ll need to take a detour down Faction Lane, on your right. Woof.” He pointed down that way, which earned a brief, annoyed look by the cyclist.

“But I need to go down this road. I’m in a hurry, don’t you understand?”

“I apologize, but the road is closed. Woof. I cannot allow you to continue forward.”

“Look, I’m on a bike. It won’t get in the way of whatever you’re doing, just let me through!”

“I apologize, but-”

Ed shook his head, annoyed. “I’m talking to some dumbass dog holo... I know you can’t stop me, so I’ll just go on.” Mr. Beagle moved in front of him, standing over and inside his bike as he attempted to get back on. Acting as if he wasn’t there, he leaned down and tried to pull his bike up, but found it locked in place. “What the hell?” he asked, still trying to jerk his bike upright.

“I am equipped with a Hard Light Securement System, usage permitted to prevent traffic violations. I cannot allow you to continue until you agree to take the detour. Woof.” At this point, a car had come up behind them, so he was eager to get traffic flowing again as soon as possible. Unfortunately, this cyclist seemed like he wanted to keep causing trouble.

He got up very close and personal with the dog and said, poking him in his now-solid chest, “Listen here, you glorified sign. I need to get to work, you need to let this traffic through. It’ll be easier if you just let. Me. Go.” Mr. Beagle just stared at him with droopy eyes, ‘sniffing’ slightly before he started to once again apologize. “Ugh, okay, look. ‘I agree to take the detour.’ Happy?”

The hologram wasn’t equipped with the ability to detect lies, really. But what he was equipped with was the ability to breathalyze. At that close of a distance, he was able to pick up alcohol on his breath, quite a bit of it, in fact. It was unusual that someone was drinking so early, but he knew he couldn’t permit them to stay on the roads at all. “My apologies sir, but I’ve detected an unacceptably high level of alcohol content in your system. I can no longer permit you to go anywhere on your bicycle. Please pull your bicycle to the side of the road.”

Ed wanted to tear out his hair in frustration. This just kept getting worse and worse somehow. “Come ON!” He yelled, loud enough for the front car’s driver to hear him. Recollecting himself, he nodded and agreed to pull aside. The hologram became intangible once more, stepping off of his bike. For a moment he started to pull it aside, but then he quickly tried to put it upright and hop on. Unfortunately, what he thought was one quick, slick movement was in fact a clumsy, slow affair.

Mr. Beagle watched as Ed brought up his bicycle so fast he almost fell, and then failed to get his leg over the seat a few times. Finally, he stepped inside the front wheel and solidified again, saying, “You are attempting to circumvent my systems. I cannot allow you to continue. Please pull aside.”

Ed looked at him like he was trying to mentally pop his emitters. He heard a car honk somewhere behind him, which made him realize he was still in a place to negotiate. “Well, I won’t. And if you want to let these cars go, you’ll have to let me go.”

What happened next would be a point of discussion among AI scientists once it was discovered. Maybe it was because of his dedication to traffic control, or maybe he was personally annoyed at Ed. But Mr. Beagle simply responded, “If you won’t abide, I will have to contain you.” He phased through the bike to stand at Ed’s side, then grabbed him with two very much solid hands. Before he could make some basic complaint, the hologram pulled his head down into his maw.

Being touched by a hologram was strange, a warm electric feeling, like touching an old TV. Or maybe a particularly hot monitor. The thought passed through Ed’s mind briefly, as what was really grabbing his attention was the fact that the hologram had pulled him off his bike. And even moreso, the fact it was... Eating him?!

The inside of his mouth wasn’t anything like a mouth really, it was just more of that fuzzy electric feeling. There weren’t even distinctive objects like a tongue or teeth, but there was a tangible shape to it all. Especially when he started being pulled further down. No swallowing, but the solid holographic neck definitely had a tighter constraint. It was like he was being dragged through foam, obviously tangible while feeling like almost nothing.

He tried to struggle, to grip onto anything, but it felt impossible. He was admittedly impaired, but the hard light of the hologram just seemed to flexibly expand to accommodate his body filling its insides. As airy as it felt, he couldn’t just push through it. When his arms finally entered the mouth, they too felt pinned to the side as if by some invisible force. Everything outside was still visible too as he slid inside, just through a blue tint from Mr. Beagle’s shirt. He could see the driver behind him through their windshield, just staring.

Mr. Beagle was trying to get the containment process over as quickly as possible. A number of cars had come up after the first one, and he knew he needed to get traffic flowing again. Ed was inside him except for some flailing legs, so he bent down and finally pulled the errant bike to the side of the road. As he stood back up, a shoe slipped off against his ‘lips’, falling to the ground. He re-materialized his traffic wand and lifted it over his head, extending his hand to the right.

The driver in front took a few more seconds to stare. That rude cyclist was inside the hologram entirely now it seemed. If it wasn’t for the fact they had just seen it, it would look like he was floating in a ball behind the hologram somehow. Though they were mildly disturbed by the whole thing, they admittedly had to go to work as well. So they drove down the detour, leaving them be.

Ed kept trying to push outward to the best of his ability, but the hard light never had much give. It was like trying to push repelling magnets together. He watched in humiliation, through a blue scan-line filter, as car after car drove by, taking a second to linger at his display, before moving on without much of a care. The inside wasn’t modeled like a stomach or anything, he was just... Floating in the hologram’s center. Contained by light, electronic forces he didn’t really understand. “Hey! How long are you going to keep me in here?!”

Mr. Beagle waved another car through. “I have permission to detain persons that try to impede traffic until they agree to no longer impede traffic. I apologize if your detainment is uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t exactly, but it was very strange. It was like he was forced to sit on air. “I agreed to take your detour!”

“However, you also attempted to enter the road closure after agreeing. Therefore, I am permitted to extend your detainment until a more suitable time. Also, you were violating the law by operating a vehicle while intoxicated, even if not an automobile.”

He tried to kick out again, but his ‘cell’ still wasn’t budging. “Come on, can’t I just pay a fine? I really did need to go to work...”

“I apologize, but there is no alternative available at this time. You can submit a complaint to Municipal--”

“Bah, I’m not going to do all of that. ...Can I have my shoe back, at least?”

Mr. Beagle took a glance at the shoe on the ground. “After this traffic is gone, I will allow your shoe to join you in containment.”

Over the course of the next hour or so, traffic lightened up. Ed got his shoe back eventually, although he struggled to put it back on once he did. Mr. Beagle obediently directed traffic, paying little mind to the person inside him, even though he enjoyed their company. Even if it was involuntary and perhaps not mutual. That said, he did seem so comfortable he took a nap inside him for a few hours. Although it could’ve also been exhaustion or the alcohol.

Ed woke up in the afternoon, unsure what time exactly though it wasn’t evening yet, judging by the sporadic traffic. “Um... Hologram, what time is it?”

“Good afternoon! It is 3:28 PM.”

“3-?! I’ve almost missed my whole shift! My boss is going to kill me...”

“Homicide is illegal according to-”

Ed couldn’t help but laugh tiredly. “Not literally. But look, can I get out of here yet? I feel better... but I’m kind of hungry. And thirsty.”

Mr. Beagle put a holographic hand on his ‘belly’, although his projection still just showed it as his bulging blue shirt without a hint of fur. “Alcohol can remain detectable for up to 24 hours. As I am unable to otherwise verify sobriety, you must stay detained for at least that long.”

“24 hours?! Listen, I’m going to die of thirst! It’s hot out here! Look, I won’t even get on my bike, I’ll just walk.”

“...Public intoxication is still not permitted... I must hold you until the alcohol has exited your system.” A car came by, stared, and was waved on through. “If your current holding is uncomfortable, you can be transferred to alternative holdings.”

Ed scoffed, but maybe jail would be preferable to being treated as a street performer by every random person who drove by. “Fine... I’ll accept. How soon will a police car arrive?”

“Don’t worry, citizen. I am fully capable of transferring you myself. Just do not struggle too much or the process may be corrupted...” With that, the hologram put his hands on each side of him and started to push. The force felt strange, like the borders of his jail were starting to encroach into his body.

He panicked. “W-What are you doing?! I thought you were going to send me somewhere!”

Mr. Beagle continued, though he said, “Do not panic. You will be digitized and compressed for further storage. You will be safe in my data structure until a later date.”

It didn’t feel bad, but it looked bad. The electricity slowly coursing through his skin was almost ticklish, but at the same time he could see his body disintegrating from the outside in, turning into miniscule blocks that were disappearing into thin air. “Can’t you just bring me to a police station?!”

“I am not permitted to leave this position while I am on-duty. I apologize for the inconvenience.” Still he continued to press on Ed, pushing his electronic fields through him, forcing him to occupy an ever-smaller, tighter space while the outside edges of him pixelated away. “Transfer is 25% complete.”

“Cancel transfer! Cancel transfer! You can’t... You’re not supposed to hurt me!” Even with a quarter of him digitized, he still felt fully functional, just less. The most uncomfortable part was the way he was being forced into an ever-tighter ball, as if eventually he’d just disappear like a black hole.

“I apologize for any discomfort, but the transferral process will not harm you. Your complete state will be stored inside of my data structure and you will be able to be rematerialized at a more appropriate date. You will not experience time. I will keep you safe.” Even if this maybe wasn’t protocol, Mr. Beagle did mean what he said. The man inside him was still struggling despite the assurances. “Please calm down, there is a risk of data corruption if you continue to move. I would prefer to store you correctly.”

Ed wanted so badly to get out, even if there was no way to escape the hard light barriers keeping him inside. Not to mention, more and more of him was just dematerializing. Vanishing into thin air. It had to be going somewhere, right? He decided he had to resist the urge to thrash more than he was. The thought of his data being... corrupted was terrifying. He didn’t want to end up in the trash of some computer somewhere. “O-Okay,” he said. “Just... don’t forget to rematterlize me later.”

“Rematerialize. But yes, you needn’t worry.” He smiled down at him, through his chest. There was hardly much left of him now. In just a moment he’d be all gone, reduced to so many bits within his own storage. As the last of him turned into pixels that seemed to scatter in the wind, he said, “Thank you for joining me, Untitled Citizen. It may be a long time before you can come out, but I’ll keep you safe and secure inside me.” He patted his chest a few times, before redirecting a car down the detour. Besides an errant bicycle, there was no evidence Ed had ever even been there.

A few hours later, after another significant traffic rush, it was finally nearly time to shut off. Before that, a construction foreman approached Mr. Beagle and said, “Hello there! Have a good day today? Anyone give you too much trouble?”

He smiled with that disarming, droopy expression of his. “No, sir. I was able to keep traffic flowing optimally.”

The foreman nodded. “Good, good!” He looked aside at the bike up against the wall and said, “Whose is this?”

“I did not catch his name.”

“Hmm. I suppose it can stay there a while in case he comes back. He’s probably around.”

Mr. Beagle’s smile widened just a sliver. “Yes, he probably is, sir.”