New Worlds

by Edited By David Garnett

  “Well, it should cool down in a minute, Excellency,” said Sadie. “More like thirty seconds, actually. It’s just the self-test, so everything is very brief.” She waited, keeping an eye on him as she pulled her own costume out of the trunk. “There. Is it any cooler now?”

  “Yes, much. Thank you.” The emperor sniffed. “Ah. It’s hailing. I’d know the sound anywhere.”

  The millions of tiny beads on the ball gown rattled and shook as Sadie climbed into the dress and got the off-the-shoulder neckline situated off her shoulders. She would have preferred to put Nick in the dress but it was too small for him and they had both been afraid that the emperor would not have trusted his perceptions. For all his techno-lust, he had a hard retro streak that could not be ignored.

  “Do you smell bacon cooking yet?” Sadie asked him as she dabbed blue paint onto her face, watching herself in the mirror Nick was holding for her. You look great, she mouthed at him. It’s perfect.

  He flipped down the petal near his right eye to glare at her. She blew him a kiss. His costume had been put together very quickly on the spur of the moment after she had seen a painting of an astronaut with a rose in place of his head. The execution in life was nowhere near as romantic or haunting as the painting—they couldn’t get the right kind of space suit, for one thing, and for another, the paper petals just didn’t have quite the same texture. But as an image alone, it was spooky enough for their purposes.

  The emperor sniffed again. “Is that fur?”

  Sadie finished painting her face blue and started gluing dominoes to her collarbones. “You smell fur, Excellency?”

  “Like an animal. A dog, or a—” he sneezed. “Oh, it’s a cat. I’m so allergic to cats—oh, get down, you miserable creature.” He sneezed again.

  “They always go right for the one that’s allergic to them, don’t they?” Sadie said, inserting chrome contact lenses.

  “I can feel it walking back and forth over my shoulders as if I’m a sofa or a back fence or something,” said the emperor, sniffling. “Animals love me, all animals. Even animals I don’t love love me. What’s an emperor to do? Nice kitty, pretty puss. Now get down.”

  Sadie hesitated, looking up at Nick. She was starting to get worried. They weren’t even done putting on his nonexistent hotsuit and he was having experiences as vivid and detailed as the old-style hotsuits had provided, before the intensity had been amped up to unendurable. Nick shrugged and motioned for her to finish up quickly. She nodded. They had gone too far now to turn back or call it off.

  “That’s a relief,” said the emperor, sighing. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to breathe too deeply, was I. Did I ruin anything?”

  “No, Excellency, that’s just fine. We’re getting close to the end now.”

  “Can I open my eyes yet?”

  “No, not yet. Still calculating and calibrating.” She picked up a spray bottle of porcelain cleanser and squirted the air two feet in front of his face. “Tidal wave!”

  The emperor flinched slightly. “Good God, that ocean air! I can feel the sand between my toes!”

  Sadie frowned and took a close look at the label. Sure enough, it was Sea Breeze Special. She tossed it to Nick, who put it back in the trunk and closed the lid carefully.

  “All right, Excellency, we’re very close to the end now. You may feel a series of unrelated sensations of varying lengths and intensities. Don’t be alarmed, it’s just the final self-test sequences running. Although please let me know if you find any of it painful, of course.” Sadie and Nick stood still again and watched the emperor.

  “When did you put the hotsuit on me?” the emperor asked.

  “While you were breathing shallowly,” Sadie told him. “You were absolutely perfect, Excellency, you really were. We managed to get you an exact fit.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to see this,” the emperor said feelingly.

  “You’ll be amazed, Excellency. In fact, you may not believe your eyes.”

  Nick adjusted the petals in front of both eyes and gave Sadie a baleful stare.

  “Oh, now, that I don’t know about.” The emperor chuckled. “I’ve seen a thing or two, you might say.”

  “All right, Excellency. Now see this.”

  “Now?” he asked. “I can open my eyes now?”

  “Carefully,” Sadie warned. “You may experience some very minor vertigo.”

  The emperor raised his eyelids as if he were lifting two window shades by force of mind alone. “Whoa,” he said, putting out his arms and balancing himself with one foot behind him. “Yes, you’re right about the vertigo. Brief but so intense.” Then he looked around the room. “This is my receiving office.” He caught sight of Nick and raised his eyebrows. Sadie moved to Nick’s side. The emperor’s gaze moved rapidly from Sadie to Nick and back several times. “Well. That’s more like it. Very nice.” He looked around the room again. “But this is just my receiving office.”

  “Amazing, isn’t it,” Sadie said. “When have you seen anything reproduced with such authenticity?”

  The emperor looked at her, startled. “You’re right. The authenticity is—it’s—well, I’m at a loss for words.” He turned to look at his throne. “Amazing. It’s my throne down to the last detail. Even—” He went up the three steps to look at the left arm. “Yes, there it is. I put a tiny little nick just at the spot where my elbow sits, just because I wanted to leave my mark on it for the next emperor. I was very young when I did that, of course.” He laughed at his younger self’s folly. “Well. Amazing. It’s just like being in my receiving room. I can feel the floor perfectly. I can smell the air—” he paused. “Has someone been spraying perfume or air freshener in here?”

  “Just the olfactory array settling into its final configuration,” Sadie told him, squeezing Nick’s hand behind her back.

  The emperor turned his head from side to side. “And this helmet! I can’t even feel it! It’s just like my own actual head—” he put his hands up to feel, clasped the sides of his face and jumped, looking down at himself. “Why, I can’t feel the helmet or the hotsuit at all!”

  “Is the realism too intense, Excellency?” Sadie asked, wide-eyed. “Is it too startling for you?”

  The emperor’s mouth opened and closed several times but nothing came out. He stumped down the steps from the throne, arms folded, his expression troubled. “Actually, I can’t say that the realism is too intense. But it is awfully...well...real.”

  “That does take some getting used to,” Sadie commiserated.

  “It’s not that it’s more real than real,” the emperor said, more to himself than to Sadie and Nick, “it’s that it’s as real as real. It’s— it’s—”

  “Completely transparent reality,” said Sadie.

  “On the money!” said the emperor, clapping his hands, and then looking at them carefully. “Wow. I really felt that. Skin on skin. I felt it and heard it just the way I would have if I had actually done it for real. This is the lightest, least intrusive hotsuit I have ever had acquaintance with.”

  Sadie’s eyes glittered. “Yes, Excellency. It is, indeed.”

  The emperor went over to Sadie and Nick and bowed to them. “I salute you. This is unprecedented, and without equal. I want to show this to as many people as possible right away. Tell my administrative assistant to come in here. We must call every form of media, every CEO of every hardware and software company, as many of their R&D people as possible, philosophy departments, cybernetic culture research units, designers—and get this on the Internet, right away—” He paused. “Should I take this off? No, no, I’ve barely begun the experience.” He looked to Sadie. “You’ll keep me from walking off a cliff, though, won’t you.”

  “Of course,” Sadie said.

  ~ * ~

  The news traveled through the empire at the speed of light—the emperor had found the ultimate unobtrusive Artificial Reality™ equipment and would demonstrate it immediately at the grand assembly hall in the middle of the ca
pital city. A rumor that this was a hoax akin to the Good Times virus followed promptly and then was squashed by confirmations from several media watch groups that the emperor was indeed on his way to the grand assembly hall; he had demanded the presence of every major techhead and postmodernist who could turn up without undue hardship—medium hardship didn’t count—as well as anyone else who had any interest in Artificial Reality™; and it did have everything to do with a major technological breakthrough.

  Everyone was used to the emperor broadcasting his enthusiasms to all and sundry, but this was unprecedented. Though he was as thoughtless as any other despot, benevolent or otherwise, the emperor was not the sort of person who demanded that everyone drop everything and get on over for a major announcement. Announcements went faster via the rumour-mill.

  So those who were not obligated by way of their jobs came out of curiosity, and as a welcome relief from whatever Artificial Reality™ they had been suffering through. It could have been worse, they told each other. The emperor could have demanded that they all meet online, in some too-real-to-be-real scenario that would have them all taking extra doses of post-traumatic stress tranquilizers for months after.

  Meanwhile, the emperor waited in the green room behind the stage in the largest auditorium, with Sadie and Nick, who had been unable to figure out any graceful way to absent themselves from the next bit. Neither of them had expected the emperor to declare a media sensation, although in retrospect, Sadie didn’t understand how they could have been so blind. Authentic Artificial Reality™ had been the emperor’s one and only passion for a long time. The two of them sat close together on a couch, clutching each other’s hands, while the emperor wandered around the room touching the walls and the light fixtures, occasionally stopping in the lavatory to look at himself in the mirror and marvel at the quality of the reflection. “They never get mirrors right in these things,” he murmured wonderingly. “But look at this. Just look at it. And still completely transparent.”

  Sadie shook her head sadly and looked up at Nick. “Oh, boy,” she whispered. “What now?”

  “Annihilation,” Nick said with conviction.

  “You’re probably right.” She sighed. “We’re going to publish and perish.”

  The telephone trilled delightfully, as all telephones did. Converting telephone ringers from annoying to delightful had been an earlier passion of the emperor’s, before he had discovered the joys of multiple realities. “Can I answer that in my ‘suit and helmet?” the emperor asked Sadie, pointing at the phone on the desk against the near wall.

  “Absolutely,” Sadie said. “You’ll even feel the phone against your—” Nick elbowed her in the ribs and she shut up.

  “Yes?” the emperor was saying. “Full? Really? In only two hours? That’s marvelous. Yes, turn on the screens outside in the parking lots, that’s a brilliant idea. We’ll be right up.” The emperor replaced the phone receiver and turned to Sadie and Nick, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Well, it’s showtime. The entire grand assembly hall is filled to capacity. They’re going to broadcast on the outdoor screens in the parking lot, on every major network, and in every reality.” He paused and looked at his hands, pressing them together, pulling them apart, rubbing the heels together, then the palms. “Amazing. Just amazing. It really feels like my hands!”

  Sadie’s smile was more like a grimace. “Well, we try not to write any checks we can’t cash.” Nick elbowed her again. “Oh, what does it matter?” she muttered.

  “Not a bit, in a cashless society,” said the emperor and chuckled. “All right, come on, it’s upstairs to the grand assembly hall stage, so that everyone can take a look at this marvelous new development—” He clapped his hands and hustled them up off the couch and out of the room to the elevator down the hall.

  Just as he was about to get on with them, he stopped, reached in, and pressed the button for the main floor. “You guys ride. I’ll meet you up there.”

  “Excellency?” Sadie said, alarmed.

  “I want to feel stairs,” the emperor said and nipped out just as the doors closed.

  Sadie and Nick fell into each other’s arms.

  “We’re gonna die,” Sadie said. “Horribly.”

  Nick moved to take off the rose head but Sadie stopped him. “Leave it. There could be a miracle and we might escape. You wouldn’t want your face broadcast everywhere.” He made a disgusted noise but left the rose head on anyway.

  Sadie had been hoping to slip out when the elevator stopped but assembly hall staff were waiting to escort them to the stage, where the emperor had two chairs on either side of his own public-appearance throne. Each was escorted to a seat where they sat facing what looked like an ocean of people. We’re going to get hated to death, Sadie thought and looked at Nick. Nick stared straight ahead and she remembered how he had always maintained that he wanted to meet the Apocalypse head on and look it straight in the eye.

  Abruptly, the emperor bounced onto the stage from the wings, looking flushed and out of breath, arms high in the air as if he had just won a marathon and was taking a victory lap. He actually did one jogging turn around the stage before coming to a stop in front of his throne.

  “Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between,” he panted, and the sound engineer took the stage mikes up several notches in volume, “behold the future!” Still holding his arms in the air, he turned slowly, displaying himself to everyone. He was still wearing his office receiving suit and it was starting to get a bit sweaty; Sadie caught a whiff of perspiration from where she was sitting. The emperor looked at her and winked. “Such realism!” He grabbed the front of his shirt. “I’m sweating like a pig.” She spread her hands helplessly and looked past him to Nick who mouthed Annihilation at her before turning around to face front again.

  “This is the revolution!” the emperor was saying. “There has never, in the history of reality, artificial or otherwise, been such sophisticated technology. What you see before you is your emperor arrayed in completely transparent reality-ware!”

  He paused, waiting for some sort of reaction. There were a few whispers near the back but otherwise the great assembly hall was all but silent. The emperor looked down at himself and then at Sadie. She floundered for a few moments. “Maybe they just can’t see it very well,” she blurted finally.

  “Damn, you’re right!” said the emperor, and headed for the front of the stage.

  Nick made a sarcastic face at her and gave her an equally sarcastic thumbs-up. She threw up her hands. If it was all annihilation anyway, what did it matter?

  “All right now,” the emperor said to the audience. “Watch this.” He jumped down from the edge of the stage onto the floor directly in front. Sadie closed her eyes, wincing at the sound of him hitting the carpet.

  “Ouch!” announced the emperor and stood up. “Believe it or not, I really felt that one. I mean, I really felt it. Just like I can really feel this—” he slapped one hand on the stage “—and this!” He bounded back and forth in front of the first row as if he were doing a gazelle imitation. “I just walked up stairs and I felt each and every one! And do you know why ?” He looked questioningly at the first few rows of people in front of him, who were now all wearing the same uneasy expression. “Come, come now,” the emperor said, snapping his fingers and then pausing for a second to make a delighted noise at his hand. “Who knows why? Who wants to tell me why?” His head swung from side to side and then he pointed to the person seated directly in front of him. “Would you like to tell me why?”

  The woman tried to disappear into her seat cushion and failed. “Um, would that be because you had just walked up stairs?”

  “Ah, but I didn’t just walk up stairs,” the emperor said, raising one finger in that way, “I walked up stairs in completely transparent reality-ware!”

  “Oh,” said the woman and nodded to the people on either side of her. “Of course. That makes all the difference.”

  “You bet it does,” said the emperor
, parading up and down before the front row again. “This is an experience that is as real as real. Not more real. Not un-real. Not surreal. But completely, utterly, apparently, transparently real.”

  “Uh-oh,” said the front row. The words swept back through the entire audience, fanning out to where people were standing in the aisles, out the doors to the lobby, out of the lobby into the parking lot, into radio and TV transmissions, into online services and out over the Internet both in the encrypted and unprotected forms. Everyone within any sort of data transmission range experienced the same satori almost at the same moment: The emperor has finally cracked.

  Now, if he’d been merely a governor or a president, he would have been declared incompetent and packed off to some asylum, and the lieutenant-governor or vice-president would have carried on. If he’d been a king or a prince, insanity would have already been accepted as a given and it would have been business as usual. But he was an emperor, which meant that he not only had all the power possible, he actually used it. He could close schools, hospitals, businesses, airports, railroads, TV stations, reality service providers; he could cut off food and energy supplies; he could call in napalm strikes or strafing runs. He never had in the past, but then, he’d never lost his mind before. There was no telling what he would do, and it was no good just telling the people around him who would obediently close schools, hospitals, etc., cut off food and energy supplies, and perform the napalm strikes and strafing runs not to obey the emperor because he was crazy—those people were all the product of vocational institutes for the education and training of underachievers and the otherwise inadequate. They were all programmed to do the emperor’s bidding and only the emperor’s bidding. They didn’t know about insanity, they only knew they couldn’t obey anyone but the emperor, and they could disobey anyone except the emperor.