Playing With Death

by Simon Scarrow

  Jeff’s mind races. This isn’t real . . . but it feels real. The graphics, the feedback . . . It’s as if he is there. Floating red text suddenly appears:

  Proximity Warning!

  Oh shit.

  The suit’s sensors are informing him of some nearby furniture he is about to walk into. He briefly taps the Sight off to see he was about to collide with the back of his leather chair. The fidelity of the experience is better than he expected. In the past, even a few minutes using a headset had generated nausea. He still has to be careful but so far it seems OK. No, much better than OK. Better than real. He sits down in the chair.

  Enable MindSync?

  Jeff hesitates. There’s a question-mark icon in the right-hand corner. He taps, reads:

  MindSync allows you to fully control your avatar/streamer

  without the need for constant physical movement by reading

  brainwave activity.

  Enable?

  ‘Yes.’

  Practise moving by using only your thoughts. The time it takes to train your system varies between users. The average time is 10–15 minutes.

  There are a few false starts but soon Jeff manages to move his avatar forward, just by thinking it. The suit takes him deep into the ocean and he starts to swim. He relaxes back in his chair, the warm water on his face, and rushing in around his arms as he swims. He continues for a few minutes before a message appears, written in white against the blue cloudless sky.

  MindSync & SkinSync Complete.

  Create Streamer?

  ‘Yes.’

  Jeff customizes his male avatar from a floating wheel of options. As a base point, the Skin uses a close likeness to the physiology of the user. It is then possible to customize all areas of the body. Jeff takes delight in restoring his receding hairline, realigning his parting, even smoothing his skin to make himself look ten years younger. He also adds larger, more toned muscles and even throws in a few ‘bad boy’ tattoos. He smiles, satisfied with his more perfect self. He finishes by selecting a simple white shirt and chinos with tan shoes.

  Enter StreamPlex, JeffRules?

  ‘Sure . . . I mean, yes.’

  WARNING:

  DUE TO THE FIDELITY OF THE EXPERIENCE,

  USERS ARE ADVISED TO DESYNC USING

  DESIGNATED EXIT DOCKS.

  ‘OK.’

  Jeff cannot wait to begin, as a torrent of electric-blue water explodes up from beneath him, rushing over him. He bows his head, laughing as it gushes over his vision . . .

  52.

  Jeff opens his eyes. He can see his tan shoes on a clean asphalt street. No trash, no potholes, no dirt or rain. Just new. He looks up. The vision that greets him is dazzling.

  The StreamPlex portal is a neon and glass tiered dreamscape, packed with a dizzying array of bright and whimsical avatars. There is so much to look at. The home square, where users enter the virtual world, is built around a massive Janus-type-face construction, the back of a man and a woman’s head merged together. It looks like it’s made of crystal glass, and a blue neon-lit freeway enters and exits through both mouths. Behind the city is a mountain range, with a Japanese castle built on a cliff face. To the rear of him, there is a coastline, with a beach.

  He walks through the pink and blue neon square, towards a large glass fountain, casting his eye over his fellow users. Several dozen trendily clad people with dyed hair sit in a circle, talking. Elsewhere a couple is making out in the corner of the square. Others are dancing to the shifting sounds of throbbing bass and warped synth blasts. The graphics’ resolution and rendering are first-rate. Jeff observes the shiny sheen of perfect complexions, well-tailored suits, slick and dirt-free streets. Yet the gestures and expressions of the people are occasionally stilted, as the StreamPlex loads programmed patterns of behaviour.

  Most of those around him are non-playable characters, Jeff realizes, placed there to give the illusion of many users. But that will change as millions of subscribers come online. He watches as a punk jumps from standing completely still to executing five head spins, one after the other. A white man with a massive frizzy Afro carries a sign that says ‘Free Hugs’ and embraces Jeff. Jeff can feel the suit compress as the man squeezes his shoulders.

  He gasps. It’s so real.

  He hears a low throbbing noise behind him. He turns to see floating advertisement screens swarming to greet him one after another. The screen flashes: bad credit, online movies. He repeatedly taps X on the top-right of his vision, shrinking them from view with a blue flash until the adverts give up and go away.

  Walking into the centre, Jeff has to smile at the incongruous, eclectic inhabitants the users have created from their avatar profile construction kits: a head-banging priest; a man dressed as a silver-foil dinosaur on a skateboard; two women wearing impossible-sized sombreros; shirtless muscular guys swaggering and posing in front of girls in hot pants and low-cut tops; gimps; cartoon characters; fuzzy fairies; emos; rappers; Goths; familiar faces of famous actors; skin-tight neon suits; space warriors; angels and devils; even PVC nuns.

  In the high street where there are apartments, garages and clubs, Jeff can see flying cars, even a horse and carriage. Bubbles intermittently descend from the heavens, and hot air balloons drift through a cloudless sky.

  All these non-playable characters are there to suggest things the new arrivals might want to try out, he guesses, admiring the vision of WS’s design teams.

  He nearly walks into an elemental-looking young woman. She’s dressed in a white flowing gown. She reminds him of a modern version of a goddess from Greek mythology, looking out of place in this kaleidoscopic city. She strikes an exaggerated welcome pose, holding out her hands, palms visible.

  ‘Welcome, JeffRules. I’m a Nymph,’ she says. ‘I take care of all the new users. Welcome to the StreamPlex.’

  Her body reverts to a passive standing position, while blinking intermittently. Jeff finds the shift from lifelike to program a little jarring.

  ‘How . . . how did you know I was a newbie?’ he asks.

  ‘It says above your head,’ she explains.

  Jeff looks up and sees the floating text above him.

  Member 212,056: JeffRules

  ‘Oh, I see.’ He smiles. ‘Your hair is pretty.’

  Her face does not register the compliment. ‘Thank you. This will be your first time in the StreamPlex. I can give you some tips.’

  ‘Sure. You’re a bot, aren’t you?’

  She nods a perfect nod. ‘I am a guide, designed to help you whenever you need me. Take this.’

  She opens the palm of her hand and a blue glowing sphere unfolds into a mesh-like map in front of them. Jeff touches it with his hand and it gravitates towards his palm.

  ‘The StreamPlex is divided into districts. This is the entrance portal, the main entry point. The Muse district is your knowledge, art and entertainment. Cascade is your extreme experiences – skydiving, racing, martial arts. The Spa district is for relaxation and therapies. WadeSoft advises that some districts may still be under construction or user customization and that WS does not accept liability for third-party add-ons.’

  Jeff grins. He peers around at the other avatars before leaning closer.

  ‘Have you got anything more . . . adult?’

  He can feel himself blush.

  The Nymph blinks. ‘Erotix is the main adult entertainment centre, and is situated here.’ She indicates the map.

  ‘Shhh-shhh!’ Jeff says, perturbed by her loud voice amongst such a crowd.

  ‘Apologies, I will adjust my volume.’

  She points to a Gothic-looking mansion on the map. ‘This is where Erotix is situated,’ she says in a whisper.

  ‘Thanks, Nymph. I’ll check it out.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Jeff watch
es as a punk walking past suddenly falls through the ground beneath them, thrusting his arms in the air before vanishing.

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘We’re currently working on our next update to address some of these minor glitches. Should you need any help, you can call me or any of the other Nymphs by tapping your right wrist twice. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Goodbye. We welcome user feedback. Would you like to do a survey?’

  An X appears on her forehead, giving him the option of closing her down. He taps the X and she smiles, fading from view. He sees a man about to jump from one of the freeway tiers in the distance and grabs a passer-by: ‘Hey, you see that guy?’

  The peroxide-haired woman shrugs.

  Jeff gasps as the man leaps off. He holds his breath, bracing himself for the impact. Seconds before the man is about to pulverize into the ground, the air around him becomes syrupy and he hovers to a stop. A nearby crowd applauds. Jeff catches his breath, laughing nervously.

  You can do anything in here, it seems.

  Anything . . .

  Jeff watches as an emo sprays an outline of a phallus on the side of the fountain’s wall. A second later the paint is erased from the surface, and the spray can in his hand crumbles into blue sparks, evaporating into the air. The emo curses and walks away.

  Well, almost anything.

  Jeff sees water cascading upwards from the floor. This must be a pool to enter other simulations. He scrolls through the various experiences on offer: Dojo, Racer, SkyDive . . .

  In a few moments, he is sitting in the open door of an aircraft. Far below is a desert landscape. He can hear the roar of the engines either side of him.

  ‘Whoa!’

  His Skin undulates with the sensation of wind blowing. He looks over his shoulder to see a yellow parachute on his back.

  ‘Jump!’ An avatar skydiver slaps him on the shoulder. ‘Jump!’

  Jeff shuts his eyes as he throws himself out the aircraft . . .

  He forces himself to look down as he free-falls through the air, the wind violently rippling his jump suit, buffeting his goggles and whipping his hair back.

  ‘Wooooh!’ he shouts, rather too loudly in the small study back in the real world.

  He looks down and sees the Grand Canyon beneath him. He tilts his body forward, puts his hands in front of him. Now he isn’t diving. He’s flying . . . Flying . . . Really flying, just like Peter Pan.

  After the sky-dive, he returns to the square. The dive was incredible for sure, but there’s something else he wants to look at. He sets his waypoint marker to Erotix . . .

  53.

  Jeff reaches the steps leading to a large grey Gothic mansion with hundreds of windows. He has to wait a minute or so in a line of around ten other users. He can feel his pulse hammering in his neck.

  I wonder what it’s going to be like? How far can they go? Actual simulated sex?

  There are two suited, burly doormen on either side of the doorway. One wears sunglasses perched on the crown of his head. They have neon irises and their cheeks and arms are tattooed. Jeff watches as they both grab hold of a bald man in front of him, strong-arming him away from the entrance.

  ‘Sir, this is a subscription, or instream additional purchase-only area. Your account lacks sufficient funds. Prepare for ejection.’

  Jeff watches as the bald man tries to wrestle his way out of their grip. A blue light glows from the centre of his chest, getting brighter. It expands, consuming him.

  ‘Damn it,’ the bald man says.

  He explodes into a shower of blue pixels that are swallowed up and disappear. Text appears where he once stood:

  USER CONNECTION TERMINATED

  Jeff’s up next. The two doormen stare at him. The one with sunglasses takes a close look at him. ‘Do you wish to subscribe to Erotix, sir?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How many jewels do you wish to purchase? A handful – twenty dollars; a purse – fifty dollars; a small chest – one hundred dollars. Or you can go premium for thirty-nine ninety-nine a month, sir.’

  Jeff thinks. ‘A handful for now.’

  There’s the briefest of pauses and then the doorman without sunglasses stands aside. ‘Transaction complete. An invoice will be emailed to your new StreamPlex account. Welcome to Erotix, sir.’ He smiles as he clamps a black bracelet around Jeff’s wrist. ‘This makes you untraceable inside. Have a good time.’

  The black door opens and, after confirming he is a heterosexual, Jeff enters down a hallway to the left. There are other hallways depending on your gender, orientation and sexual assignment. Jeff’s hallway is hung with heavy blue drapes, with a navy carpet and silver fixtures. This hallway leads to a huge seating area. Pulsing music throbs in the background and there are three dancers on a stage to the back of the room, lit by blue wall lights. As Jeff paces in there are perhaps thirty or so women, of all ethnicities and shapes, standing waiting on either side of him. They smile, holding eye contact. Some beckon him. But what he feels, unmistakably, is that they all want him.

  Most are wearing lingerie, skimpy sequinned dresses, fetish gear. There are red leather chairs, white tabletops and lamps. He’s so excited he doesn’t know who to choose. He feels like Hugh Hefner on his birthday.

  ‘Hi,’ a confident voice says behind him.

  He turns to see a blonde woman with perfect straight hair wearing a glowing pink G-string and tight bra. ‘I’m Destiny.’

  Her computer-generated green irises twinkle at him. There is an amazing sense of depth and dreaminess to them. Jeff laughs, feeling aroused as he scans the rest of her agile, tanned body. She is unmistakably artificial, but alluring nonetheless.

  ‘I’m JeffRules,’ he says, feeling awkward using his real name. He raises the back of her hand to his lips.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ she says, before twirling in front of him. Jeff is mesmerized by her. Her body. Her smile.

  ‘Destiny? Tonight I think you are mine,’ he says, smiling.

  Destiny laughs an automated giggle. Twice, exactly the same.

  Her expression changes to raised eyebrows. ‘Would you like to go private?’ she says, transitioning to a coy smile.

  ‘Sure,’ Jeff says.

  Destiny pauses, whereupon a floating box appears.

  Authorize jewel expenditure?

  Jeff accepts, eager to get back to Destiny. The next screen throws up the various packages on offer:

  Evening Company (light)

  Girlfriend Experience (sex)

  He taps the Girlfriend Experience.

  Destiny unpauses, grabs his hand and leads him away. Jeff can feel the warmth of her flesh. She takes him down a curved iron spiral of stairs to another floor where there is a series of doors. They pass a few, then one opens automatically as they walk towards it. Inside the room is a double bed with a red comforter and a silver mirror set into the ceiling.

  ‘So what do you wanna do?’ she asks, raising one eyebrow, kneeling on the bed, looking up at him. She leans forward, her breasts swinging closer together. Jeff is dazzled by the details, and he moves his hungry gaze into her bewitching eyes, her expression flawless, as her lips part into her perfect smile. He feels his cock harden. He moves closer, running his fingers through her long blond hair, savouring the texture of it. He finally caves in to his desires. He locks his lips on hers, grabbing her by her waist. He throws her down onto the bed.

  ‘Fuck me, JeffRules. Fuck me now,’ she cries, tossing her long hair back.

  Jeff’s mind caves into his raging lust, his hands and lips seeming to have a mind of their own, scrabbling, caressing, tearing at her. They kiss passionately, their lips biting, tugging at each other’s mouths, trying to lock their bodies into one another’s. Her s
kin is warm, he melts into her.

  Incredible! So responsive . . .

  He fumbles for the clasp of her bra, before pulling it off. He takes a moment to regard her large, round breasts. He traces his hands and fingers over the fleshy swells. His eyes feast ravenously on the sight of her body, her seductive eyes, her open red mouth. As he kisses her, he sees her face become translucent, then disappear. When he pulls away, he’s left with only her eyes, lips and legs visible, floating eerily in the air above her body.

  ‘Er, Destiny, your face . . .’ he murmurs, fascinated by the glitch.

  Destiny turns what’s left of her face to the mirror.

  ‘I’m sorry for this temporary render error. Texture file corruption. This will be reloaded.’

  Her body twitches as the image is updated.

  They resume their passionate embrace. Destiny unzips his pants. Jeff has an attack of conscience.

  Is this wrong?

  He stares at Destiny, desperate to take her. No, it’s not wrong. It feels real. But it’s not. And therefore it’s OK, he tells himself.

  54.

  It is past midnight by the time Rose pulls into the driveway and she can see Jeff’s study lamp is on. She is grateful to be back home. She is exhausted, not having slept much for the last few days. She is looking forward to a rest. It will be good to try not to think about the case for a few hours and return to some kind of family normality. Anyway, the next day is Halloween. Might be fun for them all to watch a spooky film, or something. Nothing too frightening.

  After all, she is anxious at the prospect of Koenig hiding out there on the fringes as the world goes about its business, unaware of the predator watching and waiting to strike. And now it appears he has new skills to aid him, and there is the frightening possibility that he has found a partner in crime. This person, Iris, might well be a misguided acolyte, seduced by his fame and charisma. Or she might be another psychopath, sane enough to calculate there are advantages to be had working with another monster.