“Demesne,” he told the Q. The television automatically turned on and the game initialized.
“Locate: Mathis.”
The screen lit up with a layered, topographic map; each Octave stacked like a sandwich one upon the other. A gun sight icon appeared on the screen and began scanning through Octave One: Base Camp. Mathis wasn’t there.
Good! Just as Raze had expected, the first circuit had proven too much for the old dog and he had given up. But the ‘Player Unavailable’ window did not pop up on the screen and the sight icon kept moving through the layers of the map.
That meant Mathis was still somewhere in the game. No big deal. It took players months to get anywhere significant. He probably just got sidetracked by a role-playing circuit like a strip club or a poker game.
The sight jumped through several Octaves, finally landing in Octave 6.
“Mathis Located,” the pop-up screen read, as it zeroed in on not one, but two, moving players and they were standing precariously close to the hidden portal that led out of the game and accessed Raze’s 4D circuit in The Stratum.
“Damn it!” Raze yelled as he grabbed his gloves and put his visor on.
“Octave 6. 50 meters with cover.”
The game teleported CrazE into Octave 6 with instanteous precision.
CHAPTER 27
Another 4 hours of the day had slipped past with Mathis following his new buddy around Demesne like a puppy. His ally, a reticent fellow who went by the name, Ichiban, allowed Mathis to tag along behind him but didn’t utter a single word. Mathis understood right away to keep his mouth shut and pay attention.
They maneuvered through the first few levels quickly, stepping in and out of teleportation tubes into different scenes and settings. It was mind-boggling. One world was a bustling metropolis of gleaming metal and glass, another an ancient ruin of stone, and the next an elaborate series of underground caves.
Although there were people engaged in many other activities, as far as Mathis could tell, the game revolved around combat. Beating other clans, taking their assets, and gathering higher statistics so you could move to higher levels of the game.
Combat situations arose several times in each level they visited. As a two-person team, Mathis and Ichiban were always out numbered. Gangs of at least four and sometimes up to eight players saw them as easy pickings and confronted them with glee.
Being good with a gun, Mathis was able to hold his own, keeping himself from being killed and getting in a few kills himself. But Ichiban was a beast, seemingly invincible in every contest. He plowed through every battle, taking no prisoners and leaving only mangled bodies.
Mathis must have proven himself worthy enough of a grunt, because when they teleported into the sixth level, Ichiban finally began to speak.
“First of all,” he began in a bored rasp, “they are not called levels. They are called Octaves.”
Mathis felt like Ichiban had been rummaging through his head and knew that he had been thinking of them as levels.
“There are a total of 8 Octaves in the game,” Ichiban continued. “Within each Octave there are multiple circuits, separate spheres within the main sphere. Each circuit provides a different environment, a different objective or a diversion.”
Mathis grunted like he understood, but he was stupefied by the complexity of the game. He had a million questions, but was afraid that if he asked, Ichiban would get exasperated by his stupidity and ditch him. Mathis knew he would never make it back this far without Ichiban.
They sauntered through another glowing vortex. This one moved them sideways.
“Some portals will take you up and down through Octaves,” Ichiban said. “Others, like this one, move you sideways from one circuit into another within the same Octave.”
The movement stopped and the portal opened.
“This is the 9th Circuit of the 6th Octave. It is one of the most popular circuits in all of Demesne.”
They both stepped into a gigantic room of blazing, pure white. Spotlights rotated through a series of filters that doused the whole room into different jeweled colors. An open space in the middle of the room was dotted with round, stage platforms. On some of them, avatars were grinding and gyrating in erotic dance. On others, avatars engaged in sexual activities with each other. An audience of avatars roamed around in various states of undress feasting on the depravity and clapping politely at each performance.
Most of the avatars were not even human. Players had cloaked themselves as humanoids, animals, robots, and even nondescript shapes. A three dimensional, twelve-pointed star, with a large set of human knockers floated past Mathis into a recessed alcove where an all-out orgy between polygons was taking place.
Mathis moved a couple of feet backwards trying to stay clear of the debauchery. Maybe the Food Network isn’t that kinky, after all.
Ichiban turned back to Mathis, “You interested in getting in on any of this action?”
Mathis didn’t know how to respond to that. What did Ichiban expect him to say? Maybe this was his thing and he was testing Mathis to see if it was his thing too. But it was making Mathis uncomfortable so he had to tell the truth. “Uh...no.”
“Good answer.” Ichiban said and he turned around and stepped through the portal back into the jungle-like circuit they just came from.
Mathis was relieved, but felt like he needed a shower.
“Like I said,” Ichiban started again, “there are countless circuits within each Octave, that was but one of them. Many people come into Demesne for the combat aspect of the game, but get over that as soon as they discover its more wanton diversions.”
“There’s more than just that?” Mathis was agape.
Ichiban snorted. “Oh, yeah. That was nothing. There are circuits for every freaky fetish imaginable. Demesne has even created a few fetishes that were unheard of before. Take “The Shapers,” for instance, like that star with the tits...they were created here for people who get off by being a rhombus or an isosceles triangle. I’m pretty sure all those people are rocket scientists.”
“Weird.” What more could Mathis say. He was old-fashioned that way. A real body in a soft bed was as perverted as he got.
“Yeah, but there are normal circuits, as well. Circuits where players can enjoy concerts or perform in them. They can participate in theatre, bands or sporting events. There are comedy clubs, nightclubs, art galleries, even shopping malls where players sell virtual and real products. People have sexual encounters, but they also date, get married and have virtual families. There are college circuits that hold virtual classes and churches that have services. Real people put their game faces on, come into Demesne and live an alternate life. And, for most of them, this life is way better.”
Mathis could see how easy it would be for a person bored with his life or in need of escape, could become entranced by this place and over time have difficulty separating from it. He himself had been in the game for over ten hours already.
Ichiban didn’t say anything for a long time but he didn’t make any move to travel any further in the game either. Mathis wondered if this was the end of the line and he was failing to get the hint. He started to turn away to try to find a way out of the game when Ichiban suddenly spoke again.
“Then there are those of us who understand the inner workings of Demesne and know its real purpose.”
Mathis stopped and slowly turned back toward Ichiban. The revelation got his attention. He’d already discovered that there was a lot more to Demesne than what the box advertised, but was there something even more to this game that could explain the Parrish murder?
He’d learned so much about the game by keeping his mouth shut, but Ichiban had stopped talking again. Mathis could not read his expression through the polarized visor that covered most of his face. His lips were sealed in a tight line.
Mathis didn’t want to risk displeasing Ichiban or give too much away about his suspicions, but he really had to know.
“So...what
is the real purpose of Demesne?”
∞
A panoramic vista of an otherworld rainforest opened up before Raze through his visor. He knew right away Mathis and his teammate were near the portal to the 9th Circuit. He was God in this world. He knew his garden.
Raze had placed the 9th Circuit here for specific, strategic purposes. The maggots either flocked to it and got trapped by its temptations or they were completely appalled by it and stayed far away. Either way, it was perfect. Just on the other side of the circuit was Raze’s secret portal into the 8th Octave, known by the very few as The Stratum. The 9th circuit kept players brainwaves stimulated too high and too base for access. But with a few frequency tweaks, Raze could invite them right in to his personal, Fourth Dimensional, mind-fuck.
A small map in the bottom left corner of his visor pinpointed Mathis and his new friend. They were close. Raze put himself into stealth mode, making his avatar invisible inside the game, and moved toward them.
He aimed his viewfinder on the friend. “Player vitals,” he spoke to the Q.
He wanted to know all the particulars of Mathis’ new friend, especially how advanced he might be. He couldn’t be that advanced. Raze tracked all the top players, looking for real talent and possible threats. If he was that good the Q would have sent him an alert.
“Access denied,” the Q responded.
Raze stopped cold, his mind reeling with this information. Access was never denied to Raze. All access was granted and controlled by Raze. This was absolutely impossible.
He moved in closer, close enough to hear the new player explaining to Mathis about the variety of activities available within the circuits. Raze lifted his gloved sensor and pointed it directly at the player.
“Player vitals,” Raze commanded again.
“Access denied,” the Q responded immediately.
“Player tag,” he tried instead.
“Denied.”
“What the fuck!” Had the game been hacked? Raze had to fight the urge to pounce on the fucker and send him back to Base Camp permanently, but he needed to know more about him first and analyze the threat level.
“...Real people put their game faces on, come into Demesne and live an alternate life. And, for most of them, this life is way better.” The player stopped speaking. A long uncomfortable silence ensued, the player staring at the Sergeant, the Sergeant growing more uncomfortable with each moment. Mathis finally gave up and turned to walk away, when the player spoke again.
Then there are those of us who understand the inner workings of Demesne and know its real purpose.”
What the fuck did he just say? Raze’s blood was ice now.
Mathis appeared as shocked as Raze was. He didn’t respond right away looking like he was considering his options and measuring his next move.
“So what is the real purpose of Demesne?” Mathis finally asked. He was playing dumb. Raze could tell. The light was totally on and he was trying to get the ally to disclose more, to validate his hunches.
The ally remained silent, stoically regarding Mathis. Then he smiled crookedly. “I can tell you what you want to know.”
Raze held his breath. Mathis looked like he was, too.
“But in order for me to tell you what you want, you need to give me something that I want.”
What the hell could the sergeant possibly have that this monkey-fuck-fuck would want? Raze thought.
Mathis must have been thinking the same thing. “Uh...well, okay, but I have no idea what that could possibly be.”
The crooked smile slipped from the players face. “I want the girl. You need to tell me how to find the girl, and I’ll tell you all about Demesne.”
Raze ripped his visor off and threw it across his bedroom.
“Game off,” he commanded.
The game was no longer secure. The Womb, the project, nothing was secure anymore.
And Raze knew exactly who that fucker was.
∞
Mathis gut tensed up at the mention of the girl. He didn’t know what to say. He knew not to deny knowing what Ichiban was talking about. Mathis knew exactly who he was talking about.
“Well, I don’t exactly know her,” he said. And he didn’t. She was just a nurse’s aide who he had thought created a fluke response in Blake Parrish.
“You may not know her,” Ichiban said. “But you know how to find her.”
Mathis didn’t attempt to deny that, either.
“I need her last name or her address. Give me one or the other, and I’ll give you the information you want to know. If you give me both, I’ll take you there.”
“Take me there?” Mathis lost his poker face. “But we’re already here.”
Ichiban shook his head. “No. This is only a game.” He gestured to the jungle around him. “You tell me how to find the girl and I’ll take you where the real action happens.”
Mathis’ spidey sense was atingle. There was something more to this game after all.
“But why the girl?” Mathis asked. “What does she have to do with this?”
“She’s my business. You tell me how to find her and your answers will be revealed.
With that, Ichiban blipped out of sight, leaving Mathis alone in the jungle of Octave 6.
CHAPTER 28
Raze was in The Womb faster than a nickel hooker on crack. He checked the Qi reader. His brainwaves were spinning at the highest cycle of Beta, like a maggot about to blow a gasket. If there was ever a time he needed his skills, it was right now.
There was no point in trying to go straight into Theta—his agitation wouldn’t allow for that—and fighting it would only increase the resistance. He’d have to take it step by step, acknowledge the interference that blocked him, so it would let him go.
“Beta 15.”
He inhaled long and deep, allowing himself to fully feel the most intense current coursing through his meridians.
Rage.
Wrath was coiled tight and ready to strike. He’d been had—played like a newbie in his own game. But rage wouldn’t take him where he needed to go. He sucked the emotion deep into his belly, absorbing its venom and taking from it the motivation he needed. Then he exhaled forcefully, releasing the chaff in an explosion—pushing it far away from him.
He inhaled again.
Confusion.
A massive wad of “how the fuck?” created a turbid soup in his mind. How the fuck had all this happened? How the fuck could he have been so blindsided? How the fuck had he missed all the signs? He lassoed each question one at a time with a breath and exhaled them in a propulsive blast. He’d get all his answers soon enough, but he needed clarity now.
With every inhale he acknowledged another useless emotion and with each exhale he expelled it, let it go, and locked it out. After five minutes, the throbbing in his jugulars subsided and the static in his field dissipated.
Raze checked the Qi again. Beta 12. Not good enough. An underlying discord still hummed off-key within him, denying him access into the zone. It was a faint, yet familiar, buzz of emotion. Raze recognized it, like a distant acquaintance from long ago, its name just on the tip of his tongue. But he refused to speak it. He had defeated that demon years ago. There was no way it could have taken up residence within him again.
He continued breathing, trying to find an alternate route around the block, working his fingers through the mudras like an idiot savant, and pulling his scattered energy in close around him. But it was no use. Raze wasn’t going anywhere until he acknowledged the dissonant chord and called it out for what it was. Reluctantly, he sucked another deep breath into his constricted chest.
Fear.
The admission rocked him through and through. The worst had happened. Not only had he completely lost control—he never even had it in the first place. All this time, he had believed he was the one working the strings and yet, in reality, he was the one dangling on the other end of the line.
He stood at the end of a dark tunnel. No light could be
seen shining from the other side and what lie within was unknown and could very well destroy him, but Raze wasn’t about to just stand there and let fear have its way with him. He would not be immobilized. He would not be castrated. He knew who he was. He knew he hadn’t even scratched the surface of what he was capable of. He would confront whatever, whomever, he found in the hinterlands and hold his own against them. He would be the one to choose how his day would end.
And with that, Raze felt the alignment click into place.
“Alpha 8.”
White noise came on and the chaise went into zero gravity. Raze worked the sequence and continued spiraling down the cycles until he felt the final shift into low gear.
“Theta 7.”
The Womb went into automatic.
“North 37 degrees, 40 minutes, point two, four, six seconds. West 120 degrees, 55 minutes, 19 point three, four, two seconds,” she said in her serene monotone.
The luminescent globe appeared immediately, hovering in front of his mind’s eye. Raze watched as the aperture blossomed and then he stepped through the opening to confront the only person who knew about Aislen.
CHAPTER 29
Fingertips ran through her hair, gently pulling and twirling the long tendrils and fanning them around her head. Soft caresses brushed across her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, before playing around her ear and down her neck.
She took a deep breath and sighed.
“Hey there, Sleepyhead.”
Aislen opened her eyes and looked up at Troy’s smiling face. The smoke from the incense and the dusky, afternoon sunlight created a dreamy haze around him. Her head was resting on his lap and she felt her heart starting to race as his fingers went back to working their way through her curls. It couldn’t be real.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Troy said, smiling bigger. “If you are, then I am, too.” His fingers traced the side of her face, to her shoulder, then down her arm, leaving chills in their wake. Then he pinched the back of her hand—hard.
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