“So how does the pay for all this work?”
“I’m not going to even try to describe our commerce system to you. Earth has a man on their radio that everyone says ‘Ditto’ to and they have an internet system where people click on a ‘Like’ or ‘Don’t Like’ icon. Paying is something like that. If I take an idea before the board and get dittos from everyone, the funds for that idea will be made available.
“Do you see that darker section at the bottom of the subscribers graph?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the number of full time subscribers. It’s a little over one and a half billion. That’s amazing But don’t forget, subscribers are notoriously fickle. They will drop you if you do anything they don’t like.”
“There were people who would threaten to do that if an author said something they disagreed with on a site I used to read stories from. And the stories were all free. So, what do I get for my part in this?”
“You’ve already gotten another lifetime, as long as you don’t do anything stupid and kill yourself. As long as your numbers are decent and I’m your producer, you will have my support. At the end of your second lifetime, if you’re still doing well, you’ll be given the opportunity to renew. The better your numbers are, the more you can ask for. That includes additional years and improvements to your body and mind. You may have grown tired of the life you’re living and want to try something else. Of course, I’m always willing to listen to anything you come up with that you feel will improve your numbers. I keep talking about numbers here, but it’s not like you’re that graph on the wall. If you are happy or excited with what you are experiencing, whether it’s live, your memories or your imagination, there are going to be subscribers who are interested, too. So, the key isn’t to chase after some numbers, it’s to enjoy yourself. The more you let yourself go, the better you’ll do. As your mother used to tell you, just be yourself.
Chapter Three
“Is something wrong?” Gem asked me. “You look like something’s bothering you.”
“Not really bothering me. I just feel like doing something. After my last heart attack, it seemed like a full day’s work to make it from my bed to the shitter and to the couch in front of the idiot box. Now I’ve got this beautiful body and I wish I could play with it. I guess I could do some sit ups and push-ups but I feel like really pushing it to the limit.”
“I understand,” she said, punching the keypad. “Follow me.”
She opened the door and motioned for me to follow. Now, she’d told me there was nothing on the other side but if we needed something it would be there. I kinda had the idea of nothing. I mean, let’s face it, how do you picture nothing? Not blackness, not space, not a brick wall – nothing. But now there was definitely something.
I followed her through the doorway into a brightly lit hallway. There was a pair of sliding doors directly across from us and I could see that the hallway curved around the room on the other side of it. Our side had smooth, painted walls. Not a solid color but a mural. What I could see of it was multiple scenes from a world, one I assumed was Earth. I could see a huge commercial jet in the sky with a skyline beneath it and when I turned around, there was a freeway, four lanes in each direction, full of cars. It was early evening so there was some detail but most of them had their lights on, red on the left and yellow/white on the right.
The floor was solid yet had some give to it. The closest we could probably come on Earth would be a composite containing a lot of cork. The far side had a wall from floor to waist, a pale blue that went as far as I could see. Above the wall was a handrail, rich wood held up a couple of inches from the wall by shiny brass braces.
Everything above the handrail was glass. Not windows as I knew them, just a solid piece of glass that went along as far as I could see before the curvature of the hallway cut it off. The manufacture, transport and installation of a window of that magnitude was not possible on Earth, as far as I knew.
There was no visible ceiling. Both the mural and the glass ended about ten feet up and then there was just light. Not a light fixture, just solid light, bright enough to light the hallway comfortably.
“Is this a running track?” I asked.
“Yes, Jeff. Will it be adequate?”
I laughed. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll make do.”
“What can we do to make it better?” she asked, real concern evident on her face.
“Nothing, Gem. Nothing at all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more suitable, esthetically designed running track.”
“That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?”
“Mild sarcasm. We would call it [pulling your leg],” I said, sending the concept directly to her mind.
“Oh, I see. It’s different from anything I’m familiar with. It is enjoyable. I imagine lovers would pull each other’s legs.”
“If they have a good relationship. If one or the other feels inadequate or unloved in some way, they could take it seriously and act defensively. But if two people have genuine affinity for each other, a little kidding around is always fun, provided it isn’t taken too far. At some point it becomes mean. But lovers, children and friends, all enjoy playing if they have a loving relationship.”
“We don’t have loving relationships. It seems that as civilizations evolve, people tend to interact with each other less and less until there is almost no contact. If contact with another is required for us, it’s usually done by vid.”
While we were talking about loving relationships, Gem stepped forward and the glass doors slid apart. I followed her into a room that would put any fitness center on Earth to shame. The doors silently slid shut after we walked through.
I could see that the room was circular so the track must be, too. The window went all the way around, the only visible break where it ended at either side of the sliding doors. There was a handrail on this side of the wall similar to the one on the outside. I could look through the window and see scenes painted on the outside wall of the hallway.
The floor gave when you put your weight on it, like the carpet in a $1500 hotel room but it wasn’t carpet. It looked like the hardwood deck of a yacht.
The wall below the handrail was the same blue as on the opposite side and there was another ceiling of light over my head in this room.
“What does that do?” I asked Gem, pointing toward an unfamiliar exercise machine. The only thing I could figure out was the seat.
“Sit down, close your eyes and relax.”
I did what she asked, unsure of what to expect. A second after I decided to relax I felt the mental equivalent of a click. There was no sound, no feeling, just the idea that something had happened.
When I was done marveling at the click that didn’t click in any way I was familiar with, I realized I was using the machine. There were rods and pulleys and handles and I knew how to work them to work specific muscles, just about everywhere on my body. There was no time spent learning, no deciding or figuring out, I just used the machine to exercise, similar to driving on autopilot. I was working on a set of muscles in my back when I realized that I’d started with my hands and feet, gradually moved up my arms and legs, now almost finished with my back, with the front of my torso and my neck to complete. The machine was called a body shaper.
“Was that your sleep learning? It only seemed a second or two from the time I relaxed until I was actually using the body shaper.”
“It was actually less than a tenth of a second. Time seems to expand when you are sleep learning, which that definitely was. You happen to be a very good subject, by the way. Many can only learn when they are asleep and in a REM cycle.”
“Shit, that was fantastic. No wonder you think I’ll be able to learn what I need quickly.”
I looked around and saw that all the other machines were familiar. They were a bit more modern, more souped up. There was one similar to a bench with weights for working your arms and legs. There were no actual weights on any of the machines, even the body shaper. If you w
anted to press 200 pounds, you punched in 200 on the controller and the resistance would equal that of the actual weights. There was a treadmill George Jetson would drool over, a unit for working on your pecs and several others.
“You know,” I said, “I think with the body shaper and the track, there’s not much I’d need all these other machines for.”
“No, there isn’t. I asked the compiler to provide everything you would need to fully exercise your body and it searched your mind to determine what you thought a well-designed exercise room should have and this is what you got. The body shaper and the track are all you really need. Of course, you won’t have any of these niceties in your new home but the lifestyle there is much more active than what you’re used to so you shouldn’t miss them.”
“I would like to swim some laps if there’s any way you can come up with a pool.”
“I’m sure we can. Why don’t we take a lap or two around the track?”
There was a keypad next to the door and Gem punched some information into it. A drawer slid out and she grabbed what looked like a violet jock strap and held it out for me. “You will probably want to do something about the bouncing,” she said.
She reached behind her and did something just below her neck. Her outfit slithered down her body and puddled on the floor. I got to see her for a moment before she put the second item from the drawer on. Its great, great grandmother may have been a sports bra but this thing managed to support her without any straps and almost no concealment of her beautiful breasts.
My jock strap went on the normal way but that was the last normal thing about it. Like the kilt, it tightened until it was a perfect fit. It felt warm and sensual, reminding me of being supported by a tongue.
Gem was dropping her outfit into the drawer and pointing at my kilt. “Give me that. You won’t need it.”
I pulled it off and handed it to her. She dropped it in the drawer and it shut. Once it was shut, there was no indication where it had been on the wall.
Gem entered another command on the keypad and stepped in front of the door. We walked through, the two doors flowed back together and she turned to her left.
“Let’s go this way,” she said.
She took off and I followed. I must say it was a pleasure. Gem has a beautiful body, probably weighing in at 120 pounds or so. I know it’s not the American ideal but you can take those 86 pound models and shove them as far as I’m concerned. She has some hips on her and can probably carry and deliver babies with no problem. Her ass is nice and firm and looks perfect for squeezing and rubbing your face against. Her waist comes in but it’s not ridiculous. There are some muscles on her back and I wouldn’t be afraid of breaking her if I held her and gave her a good hug. I’d already seen her from the front, a thin line of hair coming up from her juncture and firm breasts that any woman should be proud of. She has a tan all over, a lighter shade than mine, almost golden, and it looks good on her, especially with her gold hair. Yes, gold. Kind of a combination of blonde and red.
I took a break from ogling my keeper and looked through the window on my left. An Olympic size swimming pool lay where machines had been minutes ago. It glittered under the ceiling of light.
The mural was fascinating. There was a view of Mt. Fuji, covered in snow from about halfway up and ringed by clouds at the top. The pyramids, a cruise ship at sea, faces of every age and color, almost from the floor to the ten foot ceiling. Big Ben, a collage of Congress and the White House, memorials, both from Washington and throughout the world, most built to remind us of the dead, from one to thousands. There were renditions of the Eiffel Tower, the Tower of London, the Empire State Building, Sears Building and Dubai’s skyline. Huge squares in Russia, China and the Vatican, the Parthenon in Greece. I realized as I ran that while I could recognize most of these things, I’d never seen them in person and had really lived a limited life as far as travel was concerned. Make that culture in general. I read somewhere that the only reason we have wars is so that Americans will learn geography. Will Rogers or Mark Twain, I think.
I really felt good running on this track. The view in any direction was fascinating and my jockstrap and the floor gave me the perfect amount of support. I was getting exercise and felt really good, but I had hardly broken a sweat. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t feel over exerted when I was working on the body shaper. I felt my body being stressed, whichever area I happened to be working on getting stronger or firmer but there was no real effort.
I had a heart attack a couple of weeks before the final one that sent me here and the most I had on my feet was slippers, a half hour a day or so when I’d been in the hospital and they wanted me to walk, then the two days since I got home. I’m sure I didn’t wear anything while I was worked on here and hadn’t put on shoes since I woke up. I would think running in bare feet that hadn’t really been used for a month would cause some soreness, blisters or other damage. My feet felt fantastic. My whole body did, as if I was glowing energy.
We were finishing up the fourth lap when Gem turned her head and smiled at me. “That’s two miles. Do you want to go any more or are you ready to swim a few laps?”
“Let’s try out the pool,” I told her.
All the machines were gone except the body shaper and the treadmill.
“Why did you keep that?” I asked, pointing at the treadmill.
“In case it’s raining outside and you want to run,” she answered.
She tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t keep from giggling.
“Oh, I get it. Very good,” I told her as I reached out to tickle her.
She screamed and ran toward the pool. There was a surface on that section of the room that looked like colored concrete but was just as resilient as all the other floors I’d experienced. There were a couple of lounges with a table between them and another table to the side with a stack of towels on it. Gen skirted them and I chased after her. This new body of mine worked like a champ and I caught up with her, swooped her up into my arms and tossed her out into the middle of the pool.
When I picked her up, she screamed but it was mixed with laughter. Once she realized I’d thrown her and she was headed for the water, it turned into a scream filled with terror. She went under almost the moment she hit the water.
‘Oh, Fuck’, I thought. ‘The girl doesn’t know how to swim’.
My reflexes and coordination were a hell of a lot better than they’d ever been. Before I got to the U in FUCK, I was in the air, diving toward the spot she went under. She was only a foot or so underwater but she wasn’t struggling at all.
I scooped her up and brought her head above the water. She coughed a couple of times and sputtered but seemed to be OK. I got her to the side of the pool and lifted her over the edge.
I grabbed on and vaulted up onto the deck and rushed over to her. She was on her side, her back to the pool, holding herself up on one elbow. She reached down with her free hand and ripped the breast support off, tossing it toward the wall.
I knelt down and was about to ask if she was OK when she grabbed onto my arm with her free hand. “Help me up.”
I did and a moment after we were upright she was crushed against me, our arms wrapped around each other.
I brushed the hair away from her face. “God, Gem, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you didn’t know how to swim.”
“I’ve never been near a body of water. We don’t swim for pleasure.”
“You didn’t even try to save yourself. You weren’t struggling at all.”
“Earthers aren’t unique when their survival instincts become inhibited. As we evolve, we become observers instead of participants. You’re bound to feel something uncomfortable when you subscribe to the vid. Whatever it is, it will either go away or we can turn it off. The experiences of pain and even death are prime draws for subscribers. There are some vid suppliers who specifically target subjects who are terminal with debilitating diseases. They bring them to a place similar to this, pay off a family
member or two and any medical bills and as far as the subject’s world is concerned, they’re already dead. “
“That sounds sick.”
“I don’t admire it but there are lots of subscribers for it and a dying person who’s going to leave a destitute family behind will jump at just about any offer. Even those of us who aren’t into the death vids still see enough that we don’t usually react to danger.”
We were still holding each other but my hands had made their way down and were cupping the cheeks of her ass. She didn’t seem to mind; in fact she tilted her head, closed her eyes and leaned in to me.
Gem kisses as well as she gives a blowjob. The forked tongue has something to do with it but that’s just a tool she uses. She intended to get and to give me everything she could from that kiss. I’m sure she was experiencing like crazy but she was damn sure participating, too. I could feel the points of her breasts digging into me and could smell her desire as we tried to pull our bodies into each other.
We ended up on one of the lounges and my designer jock strap got tossed against the wall next to her breast support.
She was smooth and tight and warm and moist and she felt like a velvet glove as I slid inside her. The two of us fit as if we were designed for one another. It wasn’t long before I reached that peak, the one there’s no coming back from, the one you hope you can hold on to just long enough for your partner to reach hers but never do. Only this time I did and it continued long enough to allow Gem to climax three times. I must have stayed at that peak for a good twenty minutes, right at the edge of climax without going over. My sensitivity and endurance were both at unheard of levels. By the time I finally came, I was almost delirious from balancing on that edge between joy and pain.
We kissed and cuddled and squeezed each other until she pushed me away. “Get up for a minute.”
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