The Metaverse: Virtual Life-Real Death

by William Kurth

  MD sighed. “Yes, yes. Get on with it.”

  Finally, Robert finished. MD grabbed a quick shower using a special soap to cleanse his skin. When he emerged, Robert was waiting with a towel. MD took the towel and dried himself thoroughly before handing it back to Robert. MD then applied a prescribed lotion specifically for his skin type. The cream helped with the melding process and created a thin barrier to minimize friction. Robert stared at MD intently as he applied the lotion, which MD found creepy.

  MD had to laugh at himself. Here he was self-conscious of his undressed state, in front of a machine no different than the hair blower on the counter. While MD had been showering, Robert retrieved MD’s personal SecondSkin from the garment bag that MD had brought. The case was specifically designed to store the skin and keep it in its proper environment when traveling.

  House skins were also available but did not offer the precise fit that a personal high quality one would. It wasn’t just the individual physical size and dimensions that varied among people. It was the density of body hair and its location on a given human which could dramatically affect the realism experience. When you obtained a high quality personalized skin, it was precisely mapped out down to the individual hair follicle. If you wanted to replicate the same realism with a house skin, then you needed to remove all body hair before putting it on. Not something that was appealing to many people.

  As MD was drying off, Robert opened the humidifier where he had hung MD’s SecondSkin while MD showered. This ensured that it was at the appropriate moisture content and temperature as well as to run a quick diagnostic on it. There were no issues. The garment bag had performed as designed.

  Robert took the skin out of the humidifier. It looked eerily like it had been removed from an actual human, specifically MD. It was an accurate depiction of the surface of his skin down to a picometer or one-trillionth of a meter.

  This latest generation of SecondSkin could envelope around individual hair follicles as his biological skin merged with the organic “living material” of the SecondSkin. Once melded onto him, MD would look anatomically like a male human, albeit hairless and with a slimness akin to a fish.

  The outside of the skin was itself designed to meld with the bladder of the exoskeleton inside of the H-Pod where it would be kept moist and at the correct temperature. It was also where it interfaced with the H-pod which powered it and connected it to the software that bridged it into the H-Pod.

  Robert activated the inflate button and MD’s SecondSkin blew up to perhaps twice its normal state allowing MD to step into it quickly. Once he was completely in the suit up to his shoulders, Robert activated the contour button, and the suit deflated as it slowly shrank around MD’s body.

  MD hated this part. It wasn’t that the contour part of the process was uncomfortable. To the contrary, it felt like a gentle vibrating massage, particularly in the final part where it was merging at the cellular level. What he hated was the initial enclosing of his living body, wrapped in a manufactured outer skin.

  Until everything melded completely, like almost everyone to some degree, MD felt claustrophobic. Eventually, as you became one with the system you felt fine. Getting there could be difficult for some people, however.

  Then there was the issue of his manhood. It was also completely enclosed except a tiny slit that partially entered the urethra. Needed for urination that attached to an external catheter to capture and measure urine output, as well as to allow for full sexual function of the Human Element. For females, the concept was the same but the application different.

  A fully functional anatomical H-Pod made sex not only possible, but as real as it gets through “attachments,” that were themselves essentially mini exoskeletons within the main H-Pod. It was designed to act in tandem with a partner in another H-Pod, or with a digital. Other applications involving other parts of the human anatomy were available as well.

  MD had no desire for those other attachments and his SecondSkin was not set up for that, although an alteration could be made easily.

  Not in this lifetime. MD thought as the sensitive parts of his anatomy were encased, shrink-wrapped was what came to his mind. Soon enough the minor inconvenience of the thing merging with him ceased.

  Carrying the head hood and a case with the digital contact lenses Robert led MD through the door into the H-Pod space. It was perhaps three times the height of the interior rooms necessary for the different range of motions. The walls went to the roof, sealing it off from the other H-Pod spaces.

  Helped by Robert, which wasn’t necessary but was a requirement of the owner, MD climbed the exterior ladder and stepped into the H-Pod. Once in the lower portion MD put on the digital contacts followed by the hood. The hood melded seamlessly with the rest of the SecondSkin at the neck as it made contact. Like two liquids becoming one. A simple electrical impulse would separate them again to remove it.

  Robert lowered the top of the H-Pod down and sealed the two parts together.

  MD felt nearly at home. Almost there. He thought.

  Soon he would be rid of the annoying animatronic contraption that called itself or was named by someone, Robert. He still had to deal with him for a short time longer, but soon he would be happily back home.

  As MD’s vision adjusted, Robert came into view. Each of these H-Pod rental places had their own initial lobby before one could enter into the Metaverse. This digital one was a room very similar to the one adjacent to the garage that MD had first entered.

  Robert, who now in his digital form had legs instead of his rolling platform, stood in front of him, tablet in hand.

  Such a waste of code and energy. MD sighed.

  “One to two minutes sir,” MD noted that Robert had avoided the term moment.

  Robert went about his diagnostic testing. MD felt an occasional tingle or pressure here or there on his body. Finally, Robert checked that MD’s eyes were properly aligned and that he could blink as well as dilate and constrict freely. Satisfied that all was nominal Robert turned all controls over to MD. A menu, keyboard, and other buttons floated transparently in MD’s field of vision, in front of Robert.

  “Sir, everything is–”

  MD never heard the rest of Robert’s statement. As soon as his controls were free and active, MD had selected the teleport option and then pushed the button marked “Home.”

  In an instant, MD was in the teleporter of his penthouse apartment in the central business district of New Polis. If Robert had been human, he would have been surprised that MD had just vanished into thin air in front of his very eyes.

  Robert, however, wasn’t human, so he merely noted that MD had left before he had the opportunity to wish him well and to make sure he knew how to contact him. Robert was neither amused nor annoyed. He simply sent MD a text message with the information which MD deleted just as quickly without opening.

  The curved door of the teleporter in front of MD which had a control panel on it opened, sliding behind the curved back wall of the device. The transporter was circular in shape and large enough to comfortably accommodate four people or a combination of people, pet’s articles or other items one might want to take with them somewhere.

  The transporter was fully open now. The half-open circular portion of it exposed to the foyer of MD’s penthouse. Just outside of the transporter stood a male, impeccably dressed in a white shirt, black bow tie, black vest, matching black trousers and white gloves. The man, perhaps 30, bowed and kept his hands along the seams of his pants.

  “Welcome home, sir. I trust your trip was non-eventful?”

  “Thank you, Derek. It was but has left me thirsty. Would you bring me a mineral water?”

  “Certainly sir. May I take your suit coat?”

  Derek’s question caught MD off guard. He forgot that his default clothing was a nice fitting Italian suit, slim cut and light blue in color.

  Stepping from the transporter MD reached for the lapels using far too much effort which resulted in him pulling his
upper body forward and slightly to his right, he nearly stumbled. This was normal, as MD was still trying to use his mind to control his arms. Something humans normally do without any thought at all. Going full immersion took some time to get accustomed. MD reminded himself that there was nothing natural about being in-world. Natural body movements without too much thought or effort was the key. It made it seem real and therefore natural.

  MD slowed his movement and let his arms do what they would otherwise do instinctively. He felt the delicate material of the suit jacket on his fingers now as he slid out of it. MD handed his jacket to Derek who nodded before turning to his right and heading to a nearby closet where he hung the suit coat.

  MD’s eyes moved to the wall opposite the transporter. Against it was an ornate table with a granite counter top. A notepad and telephone with video screen on it. Above the table was a large round mirror with an elaborate gold leaf frame extending a half-foot or more around the perimeter of it. It contrasted nicely against the red wallpaper behind it.

  MD stared at his image. He stepped closer to gain a better look. His tie was ajar, having been pulled to the right when he had clumsily grabbed at his suit coat.

  Fascinating. MD admired the sheer realism of the software, to say the least of the pure computing power that mirrored his motions and calculated that the force exerted would have moved his tie. All the factors and subsequent variables that have to be computed and adapted for.

  It boggles the mind, or at least lesser ones. MD thought.

  MD straightened his tie, still a little clumsy but getting better. Soon these simple movements will be something he won’t even have to think about to complete.

  Derek reappeared holding a silver tray. On it was a bottle of mineral water, a crystal glass and silver ice bucket.

  “I’ll take it in the great room,” MD said without taking his eyes off his reflection.

  MD admired the way he looked. He only vaguely resembled himself. He had adjusted his avatar to look a little older. Although MD was in his late 20’s in the real world he was often confused for someone much younger.

  That had always been an irritation, particularly for a child prodigy. Home-schooled MD had completed his undergraduate and graduate work before he was 19 and had attained his Doctorate in Computational Intelligence by age 22.

  His dissertation was brilliant. Everyone said so. Yet, some people would look at him walking around campus thinking he was some clueless college student studying the effects of “art on the modern chimpanzee” or some other impractical course of study.

  Sought after by all the top firms developing artificial intelligence for the AE’s, as well as the hardware to support it, MD wrote his own meal ticket. Even when he was in a position of importance, directing a whole division, people still mistook him for someone who should be fetching their coffee or walking their dog. They never gave him the respect, let alone the deference a man of his accomplishments deserved.

  His last employer gave him imbeciles for staff and idiots for techs. They used the excuse that he was too demanding and that his high turnover rate made it hard to fill positions in his division with the best candidates.

  That, of course, turned out to be a blessing once MD decided that his intellect was being wasted and he was going to set out on his own and do something that would reap him huge rewards. Of course, there were risks, but nothing worthwhile was without them. Besides, who was going to stop him? The imbeciles and idiots?

  MD smashed the mirror, ignoring the pulsing red river spurting in time with his pounding heart. He stomped through the foyer, his blood splattered shoes clicking against the polished marble flooring. He snarled at his slight reflection off the surface moving along with him, changing with the light angles. He traveled down the gallery area that bisected the front of his penthouse. On it, hung a variety of paintings from the world’s most famous artists. MD stopped to admire one.

  Even you are no match for my intellect. You paint worlds but I make them. MD thought before continuing through an open archway with its beautiful wood trim covered in white high gloss paint making the red of the walls stand out.

  Beyond the archway was a large great room. A dozen feet high it was opulently appointed with lavish furnishings. MD passed fresh flowers on pedestals adorning each side of the entrance. Their fragrance drifted up to his nose.

  Full emersion. MD remembered trying to forget the mechanism within the H-Pod that created it to correspond with the visual.

  The far wall consisted of floor to ceiling glass windows. A set of powerful binoculars mounted on a tripod in the center broke up the otherwise unobstructed views of the surrounding skyscrapers and the streets one-hundred-eighteen-floors below him.

  Derek moved over to MD with the tray.

  “On the table is good. I’ll pour it myself.”

  “Very well, sir. Will there be anything else?”

  “That’s all for now,” MD said, not breaking his gaze out the windows.

  No matter how often he came here, or other places in the Metaverse, MD was always taken aback at the sheer realism. It was as real as anything in the physical world.

  MD sat down on the leather club chair, kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the matching ottoman. He opened his mineral water and using the silver tongs placed two clear ice cubes into the crystal glass. They landed with the type of clank only heard when ice makes contact with the bottom of a glass made of expensive crystal. MD placed his now healed hand over the top of the ice bucket. The temperature change was slight, but there.

  MD poured the mineral water into the glass, letting the fizz settle before lifting it to his mouth and sipping. He felt the temperature change more directly now as the glass touched his lips. He slipped slowly trying to banish the image of the feeder tube pushing the mineral water into his mouth in the H-Pod. Robert or an associate would keep his H-Pod well stocked with a variety of items or obtain those not already in supply.

  MD remembered that he needed to check his protein and hydration levels, but that could wait until later when he needed to take a piss. MD was tired from the road trip and was also feeling the crashing effect of all the adrenaline he had experienced in the last couple of days. The peak being sawing Dr. Sullivan in half.

  Finishing his drink, MD threw his head back and shut his eyes. There was much to do, but for now, he needed to rest.

  Centennial Airport, Denver, Colorado

  At 1138 am, some thirty-three minutes after it was wheels up in Artesia, NM the FastJet rolled to a stop 478 miles away in front of the FBO, fixed based operator, that the FBI used in Denver at Centennial Airport. The facility handled a variety of personal and business aircraft and best of all unlike a commercial passenger terminal your car was less than a minute’s walk away. Like Artesia, Denver was sunny with a bright blue sky. The summer air here was a few degrees cooler owing to the slightly higher elevation and a more northerly latitude.

  After the door of the jet opened, Argosi grabbed his bags and walked off. The plane which could hold 18 passengers had only a few onboard. Most were continuing to somewhere else. Only one other person got off with Argosi. Argosi studied her out the corner of his eye. She wasn’t a G-Man or in this case G-Woman. She was a Justice Department official, probably a lawyer.

  Just outside of the doors leading into the FBO, he was met by a member of his new team. Argosi recognized him immediately. Clean cut, dark suit, matching tie, white shirt, and fuck-you sunglasses. So the standard uniform for FBI investigative agents.

  Agent Pete Callum was a fresh-faced 24-year-old, not six months out of Quantico, the FBI’s basic academy located within the confines of Marine Corps Base Quantico in Virginia. Argosi was surprised that the youngest and probably newest guy was sent out here to fetch him. Not that Argosi cared. Usually it would be some senior suck-up.

  “Good morning, sir.” Callum extended his hand. Argosi shook it firmly.

  “So, you’re the junior guy, I’m guessing?

  “Sir?”r />
  Argosi spread out his hands. “The welcoming committee.”

  “Oh yes, sir. You will get to meet the rest of the team when you go in-world. Your arrival here was on short notice. I just got the word that I had to eject from the pod and get down here an hour ago, barely had time to shower and change. The real world Special Agent in Charge is down in Pueblo this morning and the Field Operations Lt. is in a training class. The MCT-SAIC is also in a meeting regarding the murder in Boulder.”

  Argosi’s new role previously was filled by the SAIC or Special Agent in Charge, but with the merging of police operations and investigations, a different hierarchy emerged. Commander was the title now given to the regional chief of Investigations and Operations. Argosi also had the SWAT-HRT units for the western United States and of course the Metaverse Crimes Unit.

  “No one knew you were getting here today until just a short time ago.” Callum reiterated.

  “No worries, Agent. I’m as surprised to be here as you are.”

  “Yes, sir. May I help you with your bags, Commander?”

  “Sure, grab this one.” Argosi handed Callum his go-bag, watching him struggle with the weight. Need to eat some real food and hit the weights, sunny boy.

  Callum was lean and gaunt, no doubt from having to be in-world. That wasn’t his fault. It was just his assignment.

  What if he needed to function in the real world? Argosi ever the trainer always fretted about being prepared, evidenced by all the crap poor Agent Callum lugged to the car.

  Argosi and Callum walked through the lobby of the FBO and out of the doors on the other side that led to the parking lot. Even before Callum went to it, Argosi spotted the red four-door sedan with the government plates. Callum struggled with Argosi’s go-bag, finally swinging it into the trunk that opened by a voice command from him.

  “Whew, Commander, what are you bringing with you?”

  Was Callum actually out of breath? Argosi wondered before having some fun.

  “Just the usual stuff. Rifle, ballistic vest and helmet, hydration pack, night vision, extra batteries, solar chargers, clothing, footwear maybe a dozen loaded thirty-round magazines plus that much more extra ammo in boxes, not including extra ammo and mags for my handguns, assorted comms, knives, some basic breaching tools, a couple flashlights, energy bars, probably the same things that you have in yours, Agent.”