* * * *
Mitch searched his room. There was nothing out of the ordinary; it looked just the same as it always did. Right down to the usual bouquet of hibiscus. He touched one of the blossoms pensively. It giggled.
"Wha—!!” Mitch jumped backwards as if he'd been stung.
"It's me,” Monkey said. The blossom nodded sagely.
As Mitch stared, the flower bent its stalk and seemed to peer around. “I think we're alone.” The petals of the hibiscus moved like huge, red lips.
"Why don't you take your own form?” Mitch asked. The talking flower gave him the chills.
"It's easier for me to become something that's already in the program.” Monkey's voice was sad. “That way, no one can trace me. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm back in my room, using the shunt you gave me."
Mitch was silent for a moment, digesting this. “You do know what happened,” he said finally. It wasn't a question.
The flower shed a petal. “Yes."
"Am I in danger?” Mitch asked.
"I think so. I'll stay with you, watching. Don't worry."
"No, you should stay near the president. My God, Monkey, if anything happens to him..."
"I won't leave you."
"Will you...” Mitch licked his lips. “Can you tell me what happened to Arthur and Jonathon?"
The flower shivered a bit. “There are many discrepancies. I think it was another mutant, one of us. I'm sorry, Mitch."
"No, I'm sorry.” Mitch approached the flower and stroked it gently. “You couldn't hurt anyone. Whoever murdered Arthur and Jonathon was evil. He wasn't like you."
The hibiscus blossom tilted backwards to look at Mitch. Another petal fell silently. “I don't know yet what happened. But I have a feeling we'll find out soon."
"How soon?"
"There's an eddy in the program. Someone is approaching. Whatever happens, Mitch, don't worry. I'll be around."
Mitch tried to grin but his mouth felt dry. “I'm not worried.” The blossom lost all its petals and vanished. “Now I'm worried.” He looked around the room with wide eyes. But nothing moved, and nothing spoke to him.
Suddenly the room shivered and a waft of sweet scent filled his nostrils. He froze, unsure of what was happening. There was no knock on the door. The door didn't even open. Instead, a young woman stepped through it as if it were tissue paper or smoke. She gave him an enigmatic smile, and her eyes took on a strange, silvery cast.
Mitch gasped involuntarily. His body reacted so physically to her smile that it astounded him. Suddenly his whole consciousness was concentrated in his loins. His penis was so stiff it was painful, and his breathing was ragged, his teeth chattering.
When she approached, he didn't move. His legs were locked tight. Not that he wanted to flee. He wanted to touch her. She didn't take her eyes from him, but her hand reached up and caressed her own throat. Delicately she drew a line downwards with her fingers, tracing a path to her full breasts. She parted her robe and Mitch gave a soft moan. Her breasts were round and heavy, swaying like soft...
There was no warning. A hard blow to his head, and then his vision darkened. He saw the floor fly up to meet him, but he was unconscious before he hit the ground.
* * * *
Monkey looked up, but the girl was gone. She'd vanished when he'd appeared, frightened by his sudden appearance. He picked Mitch up and put him on his bed. Tenderly he smoothed his hair from his face. He leaned over and kissed his lips. Then he sat up and put his face in his hands. There were too many variables, and he didn't know how to react. Saving Mitch had been instinctive, but now he was lost. He loved Mitch. The president and the others would have to learn to take care of themselves. Yet ... and yet, he hadn't sensed any evil, just danger. If only he had his magic sword.
He flexed his fingers. He would go talk to Mahler; perhaps he would know what to do. Time, the problem was time. A smile pulled at his lips. Time could be twisted if you knew the right equations, or if you had the right acquaintances.
* * * *
Monkey stepped out of the Virtual Tour world and onto a rocky seashore. He knew Mahler was there. It was a question of finesse, and Monkey had the lightest touch. He could follow anyone, and no one ever knew he was being followed.
A silhouette stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down at a fantastic tree below. A wave crashed at its roots, covering it with a white shroud of foam. Monkey approached slowly. He knew he was intruding, but he had to act quickly. He clenched his hands and waited until Mahler noticed him. He wished he'd taken the time to pass through the world of Zorg. His magic shield and sword would come in handy now. If Mahler decided to take offense at his trespassing, he could probably kill him.
* * * *
Mahler stiffened. There was an intruder in his world. His first reaction was anger. Then he saw who it was. Monkey, the dreamer. He relaxed and extended his hand. “Come,” he said. “Admire the Mother Tree with me if you wish."
"I want to ask you some questions.” Monkey lowered his chin and grinned.
Mahler nodded and sat on a rock. Next to it, his legs were as shiny black as gunmetal. He flexed his foot. “What is it?” he asked.
"Love ... and sex,” added Monkey.
Mahler gave a little start. His smile faded as his eyes strayed back towards the Mother Tree. “I have risen above all that. There is nothing left of passion in my body. I willed it to be so. It was causing too much confusion in my brain."
"In your brain or in your circuits?” Monkey wrapped his arms around his knees. In the distance, clouds scudded across the sky. The sea was one solid color without nuance. The water was dark blue and the waves wore white foam on their crests. The rocks were black and glistened with water droplets. The sky was pale gray, except for a faint silver line on the horizon.
"Both, perhaps,” Mahler said, finally.
"How long ago did you discover love?” Monkey asked. “In what world did you go to experience such a thing?"
"It was before you were woken,” Mahler admitted. “There were worlds that catered to sex, although love seemed to have no part in them. Whenever I fell in love, it was misinterpreted. I grew tired of deception. The physical aspects of love intrigued me for a while, but even they grew stale when I discovered I could not share more than my passion. It was frustrating to have my partners disappear after one bout of lovemaking. Conversation or sharing was never a part of it. I concluded that I had to eradicate desire from myself in order to gain serenity. I have done so."
"Do you remember when you were still in the stages of discovering love?” Monkey asked. “Were any of our kind with you?"
"Yes, the first five M's were with me. We grew up together and passed that part of our physical growth at the same time. Then the scientists discovered our hormone imbalance and corrected it. Sex became less of a compulsion. We were able to control it. Why all these questions? Don't the scientists control your hormones?"
"Perhaps they do.” Monkey sounded sad. “But one of us has escaped control. It's M-19, I believe. I saw her today. She was trying to seduce a friend of mine."
Mahler glanced at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, blotting out the watery light. In front of him, the crystal tree shimmered as the waves slammed into it. Water glistened on each of its slender branches like diamond beads.
"Do you know M-19?” Monkey asked.
Mahler nodded. “I've been watching her. She was M-20's twin. Her sister's death unbalanced her. They were very close and shared the same world. She is going through a particularly difficult time. She searches for love like the rest of us search for knowledge."
"I want to protect my friend."
"Then you mustn't touch him. Perhaps you don't realize what kind of effect we have on humans. In the real world, we are formidable. We have powers...” His voice trailed off. “At least, some of us do. There is a conflict within our own matrix. It is the human within us trying to overcome the machine. The difference is passion, my son. Only our e
motions distinguish us from the machine. In some of us, the difference is overdeveloped. M-19 spends too much time in her own world, locked within her own desires."
The wind whistled as the storm gained power. Huge, darkening clouds roiled in the sky. Lightning stabbed through the heavens, touching the sea with jagged fingers. Monkey raised his head. Tears, or maybe it was rain, streaked his face. “They're calling us. I'm afraid I will be too late."
"Don't worry. I can ask the time-twisters to send you back. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"Yes, that, and to protect the ones I love."
"Did you ever play with M-19 in your secret garden?” Mahler's voice was gentle.
"You know she can't play,” Monkey said. “You know what she's really like."
"Somehow she overcame all that.” Mahler's voice was admiring, a little frightened. “Come back and tell me what has happened as soon as you can.” The gale whipped his voice into shreds.
Monkey opened his mouth to answer, but the wind was too loud. A swirling portal opened in the sky in front of him. He turned to bid farewell to Mahler, but the doorway sucked him in and he was swept into darkness.
"Come back soon!” Mahler raised his hand, but his world was empty now. Monkey had gone. The storm struck then, and lightning sizzled up and down the Mother Tree.
* * * *
There was a strange tingling as his brother sent him back to the Virtual Tours world, only half a minute after he'd left it the first time. He reappeared on the bed, perched next to Mitch who was still unconscious. A noise startled him. He raised his head, listening. It came from nearby. A feeling a dread crept over him as realization sank in. He looked once more at Mitch, lying motionless on the bed, and his heart lurched.
"I could kill you with a kiss,” he whispered. His eyes were bleak. Mahler would have to wait.
* * * *
The president hummed as he undressed. His virtual body glowed with a new tan, and his taut muscles moved under smooth skin. He moved in front of the mirror to admire himself. Another face stared back at him. He gasped, whirled around, then laughed weakly.
"You certainly frightened me, dear,” he said. “I didn't ring for room service. Are you the new maid?"
"Hush.” It was a whisper. The girl was looking at him from beneath long lashes. Her eyes were a strange, frosty plum color that made his knees weak and started his heart pounding uncomfortably.
Wilbur Megalot thought that he'd never seen such an exquisite beauty. The girl's face was a pure oval, her mouth slightly open, showing white, pearly teeth. Her hand strayed to her throat and trailed down her chest, drawing his eyes along with it. Her breasts were heavy, round, like fruit waiting to be plucked. His own hand drifted towards her, even as his brain told him very sternly to stop that nonsense.
His body told his brain to shut up.
When he touched her, an electric shock stunned him. He lost concept of where he was or what he was doing. All he could feel, or think about, was the tremendous heat building in his loins. The hard passion of youth astounded him. He felt as if all his years had suddenly vanished, and he was a teenager in front of a nude girl for the first time. The hardness of his desire was thrusting against the satiny thighs of the girl. She smiled, her hands sliding up around his neck.
"There's a soft bed over there,” she whispered.
Wilbur Megalot couldn't answer. His mouth was open, gaping, but he was too busy gasping for breath. Waves and waves of physical pleasure were washing over him. His muscles were tingling and sexual passion was making any sort of coherent thought impossible. He wanted to push her down on the bed and throw himself onto her. She took his hand. He let himself be led to the wide expanse of white sheets. Without a word, the girl lay down and spread her legs.
"Please,” she whispered, with a tiny moan. The tip of her pink tongue parted her lips.
Wilbur Megalot was panting. In a second, he was sure he would explode. He lunged onto the sweet, compliant form beneath him and buried himself in her body, thrusting madly to end the incredible pressure he felt building inside him.
But the release he felt only aggravated his desire, and as the girl moaned and squirmed beneath him, he felt his whole being drawn into the vortex she created. A huge vacuum that could never be filled. His moans and gasps turned into harsh cries as his heart, back at the Virtual Tours sending room, gave out.
* * * *
"What have you done?” Monkey rushed into the room.
"What do you mean?” The girl raised her face. It was deeply flushed, and her hair hung in a dark tangle over breasts. She didn't appear surprised.
"You killed him. He's dead.” Monkey's heart thudded in his chest. He closed his eyes.
"He isn't, he just disappeared for a while to rest. How silly you are. And anyway, who are you?” She stood up and stretched voluptuously. Sweat beaded her forehead and belly, and she sighed. “It's so hot and humid here, as if I'm breathing blood instead of air.” She gave another sigh and peered at Monkey. Her red lips curved in a sultry smile. “Do I know you?"
"Don't you remember me?"
"Have we met before?"
"My name is M-18. You are M-19. Now do you know me?"
"My name is Madeline.” She pouted. “Madeline, not M-19."
"We'd better get out of here. Can you hear those bells? That means the program is being shut down. Quick, before we're trapped.” He grabbed her hand.
"This isn't a program,” she said, her voice petulant. Monkey didn't pay attention. He pushed her into a portal. For a minute they hovered, grayness all around them.
"Where do you want to go?” she asked.
"Take me to your world,” Monkey ordered.
A lurch, a swirl, and then Monkey found himself standing in the hallway of the Louvre. It wasn't quite the Louvre, actually. The museum was empty and the sky outside the windows was a hard turquoise color that hurt the eye. He turned away and contemplated the walls instead. They were covered with gold leaf. Paintings hung in no particular order, their frames covered in glowing jewels. Monkey noticed that they were mostly of nudes.
"Is this your world?” He looked around. “It's very interesting.” A curtain made of blue and green glass beads moved in the breeze, clicking softly. Overhead, squawking scarlet macaws flew back and forth along the long corridors. Just ahead, in a doorway, a peacock appeared. It pecked at something on the marble floor then moved on.
"Let me show you my favorite statue.” Madeline tugged his arm, her voice girlish and high.
"Why did you do it?” he asked her. He felt tired, all of a sudden.
"I didn't do anything. You won't tell, will you? You won't tell Dr. Djusky?” There was more than a shade of fear now in her voice.
"I promise,” Monkey said soothingly. He let himself be led down the echoing corridors to a small room. In the middle was the statue. It was M-20, Madeline's twin sister, dazzling in the perfection of white marble.
"Do you like it?” Madeline asked, her eyes bright.
"It's lovely,” Monkey said, still in his gentle voice.
"I've been looking for her for so long. She went strange and then disappeared one day. I think she went to the real world. I miss her, Monkey. We loved each other. She was all I had."
Monkey felt tears pricking his eyes. He turned to look out the window, rubbing his hand over his face before turning towards her once more. “I don't know what happened to your sister. You should have asked someone before looking for her. Perhaps Dr. Toutbon can help you."
Madeline spun around. “You don't know anything.” She tossed her head. “I can show you something you never thought of doing.” Her eyes grew sly. “Come here, M-18. Let me show you something wonderful. Everyone does it in the real world. Come on, let me show you. I promise it won't hurt. And then you'll understand why I ran away to live in the real world."
"Madeline, that wasn't the real world.” Monkey's eyes were sorrowful.
"Of course it was. As soon as I find the key, I'm going to st
ay there forever."
"No.” Monkey sighed as she ran her hands up and down over his chest.
"Kiss me,” she begged him. “Please, kiss me.” Her frosty, plum-colored eyes were pleading.
"Look.” Monkey reached down and put his hand right through her body. It was as if she was made of mist.
She jumped backwards with an exclamation of shock. “How did you do that?"
"It's because that isn't your real body. We're in your world. And the world you think of as real is only another virtual world, one that I made. You can only get to the real world if you leave your glass case and take an elevator."
Madeline swung her head slowly from side to side. Her face took on a haunted look. “I don't believe you. Look at me. I can see myself now when before I could not. In the other world, there were mirrors, and I could touch people. They could touch me too, and in ways ... in ways that I only dreamed about before. Listen, they do these things, oh M-18, will you let me show you what they do?” Her eyes were all pupil, her mouth slack. Her breathing deepened as her hands roamed over her own body. “They touch you here, and here, and down here. Oh, it feels so good,” she moaned.
Monkey spoke firmly. “Stop, Madeline. That's enough."
She stopped. “Do we have to go back? Was Madeline naughty? I didn't mean to be bad, I was just so lonely. I wanted them to love me, the way I love my statues and my paintings. Look, aren't they beautiful? Aren't they perfect?"
Monkey nodded. His face was as pale and expressionless as white marble. “Go home now, Madeline,” he said gently. “I'll close up here."
She nodded, her small hands clenched by her side. “Goodbye, M-18,” she whispered. Then she was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Press close bare-bosom'd nigh—press close magnetic nourishing night!
Night of south winds—night of the large few stars!
Still nodding night—mad naked summer night.
Virtual Murder Page 14
