Game of Death

by David Hosp

  I talk slowly and clearly to Pinkerton, laying out exactly what the police are looking for. I explain that they’ve agreed to keep the company’s involvement with the investigation out of the press, and to keep a low profile, so that there is no damage done to NextLife’s reputation. Pinkerton is quiet as I talk, and he lets me get the whole story out. Part of the reason he has been so successful in business is because he has always been able to keep his thoughts to himself. He’s impossible to read.

  ‘What assurances do we have that the company’s name will be kept out of it?’ he asks.

  NetMaster gives a deep snort. ‘We have none, that is clear,’ he says. He reaches out and pushes me hard in the shoulder. His hand feels like a Volkswagen.

  I turn and look at him. ‘Don’t ever fuckin’ touch me again,’ I say. He smiles back at me, and I can see three gold teeth. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him smile, and now I can understand why; it’s not an attractive sight. My attention goes back to Pinkerton. ‘I know one of the detectives who’s working on the case,’ I say. ‘He’s a straight shooter. He’s done some security work for us before.’

  ‘What’s his name?’ Pinkerton demands.

  ‘Killkenny.’

  Pinkerton looks again at NetMaster, who nods. ‘He was assigned to the million-user party we had last year. He was in charge of the doors.’

  ‘Right,’ I say. ‘So he’s not antagonistic to the company, and he said he’s going to try to keep the company’s name out—’

  ‘Try . . . ?’ Pinkerton’s stare intensifies as he cuts me off. ‘He’s going to try to keep our involvement in the investigation out of it?’

  As Pinkerton is talking, NetMaster reaches out and pushes me again. I whirl on him quickly, swinging my elbow with as much force as I can, landing it directly in his solar plexus. He makes a noise that is somewhere between a pig-squeal and a grunt and doubles over, gasping for breath. I stand over him with a fist cocked. ‘I told you not to touch me.’ He’s looking up at me with hatred in his eyes, still unable to stand. ‘We done here?’ I ask.

  There is silence for a moment, and then Pinkerton says, ‘You’re both done.’ NetMaster looks angrily at his boss, but Pinkerton waves him off. ‘We have more important things to deal with,’ he says. ‘Tell me about this policeman.’

  ‘He has no reason to jam us up,’ I say.

  ‘I find that so reassuring.’ Sarcasm drips from his lips as he leans forward, puts his elbows on his invisible desk, folds his hands together. ‘You understand the danger, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘If someone’s using the LifeScenes platform to practice murder, it’s going to look pretty bad for the company.’

  NetMaster grunts as he finally makes it to his feet. ‘He understands nothing.’

  Pinkerton shakes his head. ‘NetMaster is right. You’re talking about a minor risk. When people found out that a young man had used Craig’s List in Boston to arrange meetings with hookers and then murder them, traffic on the site went up, not down. We have a population in this country that is obsessed by sex and titillated by violence. You put the two of them together – it’s almost irresistible. I’m not worried about people finding out about that. The curiosity factor alone will drive up our users.’

  ‘What are you worried about, then?’

  ‘The real danger is that it will appear to our users that we are helping the police.’

  I’m not sure how to respond to this. ‘Helping the police to catch a murderer . . . ’

  ‘That’s not how people will see it. They will see it as us helping the police to identify one of them. One of our users.’

  ‘But under the circumstances—’

  ‘There are no circumstances where it is not a betrayal of what we promise our users.’ I’m staring at him, amazed at what he is saying. ‘Don’t get me wrong: if you were to poll them and ask whether we were doing a good thing, most of them would say “yes”. But that wouldn’t change the fact that they would cease using the site.’ I blink as I consider this, and he sighs heavily, as though forced to teach a slow child basic math. ‘Nick, people come to NextLife to explore those parts of themselves they are ashamed of; those parts they are afraid of even. Oh, they use the social networking tools – the email, the chats, the respectable parts of the site, too. They use our online shopping functionality to buy Mother’s Day flowers and birthday presents for Grandma. But the real reason people are coming to us instead of the other sites that provide those same options is because we have the LifeScenes as well. They want the chance to be dark, and to be that way in safety and privacy. And for people to feel comfortable creating LifeScenes, they need to know that no one is ever going to know what they are doing. Even more important, they need to know that no one will ever be able to know their identity and link that identity to all of those things they are ashamed of. If they think there is any chance that the identity shield can be broken, they will stay away. They will go back to Google and Facebook and all the others. Do you understand that?’

  ‘I understand what you’re saying. I’m just not sure I agree.’

  ‘One of the reasons the algorithms that protect the identities of our users are unbreakable is because I knew that otherwise there would always be a temptation to put the information together. It could be for good purposes – as in this case, to catch a murderer; or for bad purposes – for blackmail, or for identity theft. By making it impossible, I took those temptations away.’

  ‘So it shouldn’t be a problem,’ I point out. ‘If the algorithms are really unbreakable, cooperating with the police won’t actually reveal anything, and no one can blame us for trying.’

  ‘That would be true if reality were more important than perception. If there’s one thing we have definitively learned in this business, it’s that reality is no longer king. If people believe that we are cooperating with the police, even in the name of a good cause, this company will crumble.’

  ‘It will destroy us,’ NetMaster says in a low, menacing tone. ‘All of us.’ It feels as though he is getting closer to me again, leaning in toward my chair. I can almost feel him breathing on me. I clench my fists, readying for another confrontation, but Pinkerton waves a hand at him, and he eases off.

  ‘So, what do you want me to do?’ I ask. ‘Do you want me to say that we won’t cooperate with the investigation? Stop talking to the police?’

  ‘You should never have gone to the police in the first place,’ NetMaster growls.

  ‘I think Nick understands that now,’ Pinkerton says. ‘But we are past that point. Now that we are here, we cannot refuse to cooperate. At least not overtly. But we must make sure that, as the investigation progresses, we are not violating the fundamental promise of privacy we have made to our users. Do you understand, Nick?’

  I do, but I don’t like it. ‘Yeah, I understand’ is all I say.

  ‘Good. Make sure that you keep NetMaster in the loop. As head of security, he must know everything that is happening. You two seem as though you’ll work well together.’ Pinkerton gives an ironic smile.

  I look up at NetMaster, and he is glaring down at me. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I got it.’

  I start walking to the door and Pinkerton calls after me, ‘Nick!’ I turn to look at him. ‘This is your home, Nick,’ he says. ‘I took you in because Tom said you were one of the good ones. I trusted him, and I’ve trusted you.’

  ‘I appreciate that,’ I say.

  ‘Do you?’ He stands and turns his back to me, looking out the windows toward Boston. ‘I guess now we’ll see if that’s really true.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘So, explain to me how this works.’

  Paul Killkenny is sitting in the sensory chair in my office, looking at the computer in front of him with suspicion. Yvette and I are on either side of him, and we can both tell that he has had relatively little experience with computers. I shoot her a look and she shrugs her shoulders. When he arrived I asked how he wanted to proceed, and he said that before
he got into the investigation itself, he needed to have an understanding of how the technology functions, at least at the most basic level.

  ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘This is our home page. You know what a website is, right?’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘Good. A user types in our URL and then enters their user information. I take it you’re not a member yet?’

  He looks up sideways at me. ‘Good guess.’

  ‘Alright, so you’re a new user and you have to create a profile.’ I take the keyboard from him and begin to fly through the prompts, putting in Killkenny’s name and walking him through each of the steps in the process – address, birth date, phone numbers, et cetera. When I ask him for his credit-card number, he pauses.

  ‘I thought this was free.’

  ‘Much of what we provide is free,’ I say. ‘But we have shopping sites where third parties are selling their goods. We always want to make sure that anything anyone does on our site that costs money is tied back to a particular credit card. That way, we don’t have to get involved in disputes. It’s easier if the card information is there to begin with.’

  ‘What if I don’t want to put in a credit card?’

  ‘You can click here,’ I point to a box below the prompt, where it says: I do not want to use any pay services. ‘A lot of first-time users go for that option, but we’ve found that most of our customers ultimately put in a credit card. There’s so much more that you can do on the site, it just makes sense.’ I complete the profile information and press enter, and the member home page comes up. ‘This is what you see if you have a normal computer screen, and you are just using that to log on. As you can see here, we’ve segmented the site into different areas. You have your email, your social networking – most people tie these together, though you don’t need to. You have your interest rooms, where people can chat about topics or issues they have in common; you have your shopping sites; you have your gaming area. These are just the top-level site sections. As you dig down, you’ll find that the site has just about everything anyone could want as far as traditional web-services go.’

  ‘But you also have these LifeSpots,’ Killkenny says.

  ‘LifeScenes,’ I correct him. ‘Yeah, that’s right. That’s what sets us apart from other Internet providers.’

  ‘How do I get in there?’

  I pick up the sensory unit sitting on the small table by the chair. ‘First, you put this on.’

  Killkenny looks at the unit with what seems like disgust. ‘What the fuck’s that?’ he demands.

  ‘This is cutting-edge,’ I say, holding it up. It looks a little like a thin, space-age bicycle helmet with a dark visor that protrudes two inches from the forehead and comes down to just above the upper lip. On the sides there are comfortable headphones that fit snugly over the ears. ‘It’s one of our latest, top-of-the-line sensory units. Try it on.’

  He takes it from my hands and examines it the way I imagine he might scrutinize a piece of evidence from a crime scene. He slips it over his head reluctantly, and adjusts it until he looks as comfortable as I suspect he’s going to be. I hand him a sensory glove and he pulls it on up to his elbow.

  ‘What now?’ he says with exaggerated volume that tells me his earphones are on securely. I can still see what is on the computer screen, and I use the mouse to tab onto the spot on the user bar that reads ‘Three-D Experience!’

  The reaction is instantaneous. Killkenny slides back in the seat, as though he’s ducking from something. ‘Holy shit!’ he exclaims.

  ‘It’s a little startling the first time,’ I say, recalling the first time I put on a sensory unit. ‘The visor generates the image you’re seeing, and the optics give a full sense of three-dimensions, even for the home page. Now, you can use your forefinger in the glove to control where you want to go, and you’ll have the full experience wherever you go on the site. If you’re shopping, many of the retailers we work with have developed fully integrated marketing materials that will allow you to see the products they are selling in 3-D, often with realistic video action. If you are shopping for shoes, you can pick the image up and examine it as if you were actually in the store. If you’re a woman and you are shopping for a dress, you can not only see the dress, but you can access a 3-D video where you are sitting by the side of the catwalk as a model walks by wearing the dress, so you can see how it moves. If you’re chatting with someone else who is also wearing a unit, you’ll be talking to them as though they are directly in front of you, with video and audio that are so clear you will forget that they may be halfway across the country or the world.’

  Killkenny is sitting still now, and I can tell that he is settling in, beginning to appreciate the quantum leap forward that NextLife technology represents. ‘This will change the way people use the Internet,’ he says.

  ‘It will change the way people live their entire lives,’ Yvette responds.

  Killkenny, who has been flicking through the home-page menu with his finger, goes still for a moment as he considers that. ‘It will,’ he agrees at last. ‘So how do I get into these LifeScenes?’

  ‘Do you see the bright silver orb up to the right that says IMAGINE?’

  ‘I see it.’

  ‘Touch it.’

  His hand goes up and to the right and he reaches out into thin air, the angle of his head following the slow movement of his arm. ‘Whoa!’ he says quietly.

  ‘Pretty cool, isn’t it? This is the promo that gives you an idea of what’s possible In-World.’ I helped to design the introductory segment of the LifeScenes site, and I’m proud of it. It puts you in clips from some of the more exciting LifeScenes that the developers at the company have created. Things like being on an actual moonwalk; being at the top of Mount Everest; deep-sea diving; being behind the wheel of a racecar. It gives a decent sense of what’s possible. Of course there are images of attractive men and women smiling at you interspersed as well. It lasts around a minute, and Killkenny sits immobilized as he watches it. I can tell he’s blown away.

  ‘So, what now?’ he asks.

  ‘Because you’re a new user, first you have to create your avatar.’

  ‘How do I do that?’

  ‘Start with the body type; that’s the least complicated part. If you tap on the “create” menu and select “avatar”, you start by selecting “male”. Then click on the “body type” and you’ll see there are hundreds of options. You can be anything from a bodybuilder to Laurel to Hardy. You can have a hairy chest or be bare. You can even modify the body type from there, once you make your selection. That takes a little time, though. Just select “athletic”; that’s our most popular body type.’ Killkenny follows my instruction.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Now you need to choose a head.’

  ‘Choose a head?’

  ‘Yeah. Your face, hair, et cetera. The easiest way to do it is simply to choose the “me” option.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That will use the images of you generated by the camera either in the screen or in the sensory unit to map your face and head and create an avatar that looks like you. It’s quick and easy.’

  ‘Is it what most people do?’

  ‘Many, but I don’t know that I’d say most. A lot of people use the LifeScenes function to get away from themselves. Some people don’t like the way they look, or don’t want to be recognized online, so they create avatars for how they want to look, or how they want to be perceived, rather than how they actually look.’

  ‘How do they do that?’

  ‘Go to the headshot section and choose the menu. You’ll see a whole catalogue of choices – again, hundreds of them. This is why it takes more time to create a new identity; you are literally designing a new face and head. You can mix-and-match eyes, noses, chins, cheekbones, hairstyle, the whole shooting match. There are some people who can take days designing who it is they want to be In-World. It’s amazing, really.’

  ‘I just want to get on the system,
’ Killkenny says.

  ‘So, choose the “me” option. You’ll have your own face in around thirty seconds.’

  Killkenny taps the air with his gloved hand and there is a flash from within the sensory unit. A moment later there is a beep and the screen reads, ‘You are ready!’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ he says. ‘I don’t see me.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I say. ‘You are you. What you chose is what other people see. You’re in that face looking out. When you walk around in the real world, do you see your own face unless you’re looking in the mirror?’

  ‘No,’ he admits.

  ‘The whole point to this is that it is as close to a real-life experience as you can come. You’ve got an avatar that looks like you and has the fairly normal-athletic body type you’ve chosen. Now you just need to step into a LifeScene.’

  ‘How do I do that?’

  ‘There are a few different ways. The simplest is to choose one of the preset LifeScenes that are built into the system. We have thousands that range from pure adrenaline to purely social. Then we have tools that let you choose a fairly standard LifeScene and modify it, within limits, to your particular tastes. And finally, for those people who are proficient with a computer, you could create your own from scratch, using some fairly malleable templates. We have some people who have come up with some of the most amazing stuff you could ever imagine.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ There is a hint of judgment in his voice.

  ‘Why don’t you just choose one of the options off the main menu?’ I tap a few times on the keyboard that is attached to the sensory unit and I can see the menu that appears on the screen, so I know what he is looking at. I watch as he lifts his hand and air-fingers through the menu, browsing. I’m curious what a man like him will choose.

  Yvette tugs at my elbow. ‘Ten bucks says he chooses Strip Club,’ she whispers. I reach out and shake her hand to seal the bet. There are several hundred options on the main menu listed alphabetically, and I’m not convinced he’s even going to get to S. I’m watching as the standard LifeScenes pass by. Most on the main menu are of the family-friendly variety. The really hardcore options that so many of our users seem to favor have to be searched for. They are usually two levels down on the menu, so we know that the people who get there are really interested in them. We have never been looking to entice people into the adult sections; it’s just that’s what so many people are looking for. It often makes me wonder about the true nature of the human race.