by Noah Barnett
The bodywork he would probably fix, but a bent rear axle was low on the list of repairs. Still, the car was a steal for how much the guy had modified it. It took about fifteen minutes to reach the beach house, which was far quicker than taking the bus. As he approached the garage, it automatically opened, and he rolled to a stop. Elva slid from his lap when he opened the driver side door. Inside, she went to the refrigerator to get lunch, so Charlie sat on the couch and touched his temple to log out. The pop-up appeared and he exited the game.
His phone was ringing as the living room came into focus. Charlie’s throat was dry and he reached for the coffee nearby. It was cold, but he polished off what was left. He coughed and swallowed the bitter java before taking the dive helmet off. The phone rang again.
He reached for the mobile and saw it was a long distance number. In fact, he was pretty sure that number wasn't in the united states. For a second he considered just ignoring it, but touched the accept button and lifted the screen to his ear.
"Hello?" He asked.
"Good afternoon old friend," A vaguely familiar voice said. "I’m glad I managed to catch you." He added next. Charlie couldn’t reply. Inside his head, he was replaying the voice again and again.
"Alex?” he asked tentatively.
"Charlie, it’s nice to hear from you." The man said with enthusiasm. His roommate had dropped off the face of the earth after leaving.
"It's been months, how are you?" Charlie asked with more energy.
"Keeping myself busy. I am the Director of Arrivals here at the resort." He said, and Charlie smiled. That was a step up from being a college dropout shut in.
"How about you?" Alex asked.
"Still selling cars, but I'm lucky to have a job in this economy." He admitted. Charlie picked up the empty mug and walked into the kitchen. Fizzgig announced himself by rubbing up against Charlie's leg, so he bent and scratched the cat behind the ear.
"I hear it's bad over there," Alex said.
"Enough about me, how are the Caribbeans?" He asked turning the faucet on. Charlie cleaned out the cup and set it on the rag next to the sink. He picked up the coffee carafe and dumped the rest down the drain too.
"I wouldn't know."
"How can you not know?" Charlie asked in surprise.
"I haven't looked outside in a month or so," Alex admitted, and Charlie put the pot back in the machine. He was at a loss what to say.
Finally, he laughed and said, "Alex you're still a shut-in."
The man laughed too, "I have no idea what it's like outside because I'm dead." Now Charlie was thrown for a loop.
"What?"
"Dead… deceased… no longer alive." Alex answered.
From the casual tone of voice, it was something he apparently discussed often. Charlie struggled with what to say to that, and Alex started to laugh again as the silence dragged on.
"I love getting that reaction. I told you I was chasing the ghost." He said after controlling himself.
"Yes, you mentioned you were looking into getting digitized, but I never thought you'd cross that bridge." Charlie said shaking his head again. The idea was just too much to grasp.
"I mean… You have to die?"
"I couldn't do it on my own, and getting the equipment in America is impossible. Some investors were looking to cross over. We started a resort on the Islands where the laws are more liberal. Of course, those cowards were happy to let me be the guinea pig."
"How?" Charlie asked.
"We got a copy of the Nigmus Source Code then smuggled in an altered dive pod. God that thing was ugly, but it worked. Things became easier after the Chinese released the unofficial avatar patch for Nigmus." Alex said in a reminiscing voice like that had been years, not months ago.
"You did it."
"We did. Now I'm Director for Dreamland Retirement Resort. We cater to wealthy individuals who aren't quite ready to kick the bucket. Most of my time is spent convincing wrinkled old fogies that I'm really dead and digitized."
"That must be a pain…"
"The real pain was figuring out what to do with all the bodies. People check out, but their bodies don't leave.” He said, and Charlie recalled the lyrics to an old song.
"Relax," said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!”
"I suppose there’s not a lot of land to bury people."
"Exactly. Can't bury them in mass graves like the Russians and Chinese do. While the laws on the islands are lax the environmental regulations are a quagmire of red tape. We tried burning them, but that caused co2 emissions. There were also mercury and heavy metals in all the old bones and hip replacements." The man said in annoyance.
"In the end, we have to charter a barge to carry a load of bodies out into the ocean. We rope them together with a heavy weight and drop them overboard. The coast guard board them every time, so we constantly have to shell out bribes and kickbacks. Everyone wants a piece of the pie." He said with a weary sigh.
"What happens to them after they’re digital?" Charlie asked.
"Many of these people can barely work a smart phone let alone a full dive. We take it slow for them. A private cloud runs a Custom Server that simulates modern times. The current hot spot is a recreation of 1950's France. Most spend a few weeks screwing each other silly before moving on." Alex said.
"I suppose you have lots of time for video games."
"Hardly. Our operation is 24/7 with how much we've grown. I haven't logged into my old character in a month, but all the dive pods are down for scheduled maintenance. I was sitting in the office twiddling my thumbs."
"So you gave your old roommate a call?"
"It was either that or make small talk with the residents," Alex said with a shudder.
"You could have dipped into the server for some wine and women," Charlie suggested.
"I don't do badly in that respect, but hey, I have to cut our talk short. Just got word the machines are coming back online. Nose to the grindstone and all that."
"It was nice talking to you, Alex."
"You too, Charlie. Hey, I'll send our brochure in case you're interested."
Charlie wasn't but said, "Thanks," and disconnected the phone. He rather liked breathing despite how intriguing the idea was. Fizzgig meowed again pressing himself to Charlie's leg begging for more scratches.
"Sushi, again?" he asked the cat. Fizzgig meowed, and he nodded in agreement. He might as well indulge today.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
July 4th
It was the Fourth of July, and the sky was full of exploding fireworks. Charlie lay face down on the beach blanket, clad only in black swim trunks and flip-flops. A set of smooth legs straddled his lower back, and Elva popped open the sunscreen bottle. A drop of lotion hit his neck, and she worked the liquid into his skin. Her expert fingers spread sunscreen over his shoulders and back. He really should have done this sooner, but Charlie had been too caught up in running matches.
"You could be nicer to Fara," Elva said in a suspiciously light tone. She shifted sliding down to straddle his legs. After liberally covering his back she started to massage the lotion into his skin. Fara—was the fly in his ointment. Aside from buying ammo he hadn't bothered upgrading her.
"Would love too, but I haven't seen her in a week. She spends all her time in weapon form." Charlie admitted. Fara refused to speak to him now, and Charlie could count the number of times they had conversed with her on one hand. It was annoying, especially because he liked her as a gun. The M16 suited his style, but he wouldn't waste money on mods for her.
"I get the feeling Fara's keeping me at a distance so she can go back to Derek."
"Probably."
"Why in the seven hells would she do that?" He asked.
"The man had beat her and she was going to crawl back like a broken puppy. It was like Stockholm Syndrome for androids."
"You have to und
erstand how our memories work. We can’t save everything that happens. I get sensory data, like the feeling of having you inside me. It's recorded once. The thirty-seven times we've re-contracted are linked to that incredible sensation." She said squeezing his butt cheeks. After she'd satisfied herself, Elva said, "Our database forms a spider web of interconnecting links. At its center is the Meister, especially our first one. They end up forming a large portion of our personalities." Elva moved lower, and her fingers started to work lotion into his thighs and legs.
He turned his attention back to Fara. The only interaction he had with the Vietnam era weapon was shooting, and cleaning her. He shrugged and said, "She can just delete the memories then. You told me you erase what you don't use."
"We can't completely wipe out a memory, even if its painful. At best we can archive the data. Compressing it down so that it's little more than a log entry." Elva said slowing.
"I'll be nicer to her, if you promise me something too," he said.
"What's that?"
Charlie turned over on the beach blanket. A blonde goddess knelt over him wearing a red, white, and blue bikini. She'd gone from pale white skin to a light bronze from the summer sun, and for a second, he was caught up in the sight of her gorgeous body. Charlie never tired of looking at her, even after a month of sex. Elva poked him, prodding Charlie's mind back into function.
"Stop nagging Fara about staying," he said looking up into Elva's face. She pouted like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "I know you like having her around, but whether she stays or not is up to her." Charlie would lose the assault rifle in a week, then he'd pick up a new weapon.
"I promise," she said petulantly.
Elva went back to spreading sunscreen over Charlie's chest, but with significantly less energy. Thankfully conversation about Fara ended, and for a few more minutes, the massage continued until his skin glistened.
"It's your turn," he said once she had finished. Elva reached up and yanked on the bikini string tying the flag together. There was a small party favor secretly worked into the knot. It went off, showering Charlie with red confetti as her breasts fell free. Elva had been wearing that bikini all morning, and he suspected she'd been dying to do that for hours.
"Get it?" Elva asked biting her finger. "It's a… booby trap," she said laughing at what was probably, the worst pun ever. Charlie reached up grabbing her waist, and Elva squealed as he rolled her onto the towel. Charlie bent biting one nipple as he pinched the other. Elva gasped grabbing a fist full of his hair, and long legs wrapped around his middle as he attacked her breasts. She squirmed under his assault, moaned, and opened her legs like a flower to the morning sun.
Charlie bit and licked his way down her stomach, but paused at her red and white thong. "I'm not going to find any more surprises tucked away?" He asked.
"You'll just have to risk it," she breathed aiming her groin at him. Charlie was about to do just that when the mobile phone rang. Things were just getting interesting with Elva, but Charlie had made a few friends, so he reached over picking up the phone.
"Montgomery, it’s nice to hear from you," Charlie said answering. He’d been absent for more than a week since they’d first talked and became friends.
"Happy 'The Brits Lost' Day," the man said in a faux cheer voice.
"You mean Independence Day?"
"Good Lord, no. We patriotic southerners fought for our own independence, yet no one celebrates our valiant struggle." The man replied with a piqued Louisiana accent.
“That happened like two hundred years ago,” he said with a smile. Montgomery was a character all right.
“The passage of time is irrelevant,” Monty said in a long southern drawl.
"Are you even southern?"
"Now you mock me, sir. I shall hang up this infernal box."
"I was only joking," Charlie replied with a chuckle.
"If you can bear the presence of a disgruntled soldier, I have time for a match." Montgomery said. Charlie hadn't been down to the competition hall today. Instead, he'd attempted to relax with Elva. His neighbors, however, continued to launch grenades and mortars into the water, which was starting to get on his nerves.
"I could kill a few souls today.”
"That's the spirit. Meet inside the competition hall?" Montgomery suggested.
"See you soon," Charlie agreed while hanging up, and glancing down at Elva. The woman was suggestively posing on the blanket, and toying with the string on her bikini bottom.
"Later," he smirked. Charlie climbed to his feet and walked the short distance up to the beach house. Elva made an annoyed tisk as she scrambled to grab the lotion and towel. On his way into the house, he dialed Remy's number. It rang about three times before connecting.
"Harder," Remy said picking up. There was the distinct sound of wet slapping sex in the background, and he pulled the phone away from his ear.
"Yeah…?"
"I'm running a match at the competition hall, be there in twenty minutes if you want to join." He grumbled. There was a shrill female cry from the phone.
"Fuck me that was good," a small voice sighed from the mobile. Charlie hung up. If Remy showed up, that would be up to her.
Charlie discovered the M16 laying on the master bed. She must have been watching TV while he was outside, but had changed forms as he had come into the house. The show playing was an old black and white horror series. He picked up the assault rifle, checked her load, and was about to shoulder her, but at the last second remembered his promise.
"Sorry for interrupting your show. On the way home I'll pick up the box set for you." He stated. Fara, as usual, remained completely silent and he walked into the living room. Elva was putting her top back on, and Charlie walked over to her. She paused with a hopeful look in her eye.
"I'm going to drive the Mustang hard into town," he said, and Elva blanched. Charlie used the muscle car like he had a death wish. Why not? It was a virtual car, so he'd put a few scrapes in the new body work. Elva's bronze skin began to glow, and a 1911 appeared on the counter. He holstered the weapon and went out into the garage. The engine started with a roar, and he backed out onto the street. The tires left a black streak down the road and he fish tailed around the corner.
Outside the Competition Hall, Remy was skipping back and forth in an elementary school outfit. She had pigtails and a teddy bear backpack on. At seeing him she stopped and pointed a tiny finger his way.
"You hung up!" She accused stamping her little red shoe. It was odd seeing a girl dressed for class and wearing a leather holster. The massive black handgun dangled under her arm as she continued to point.
"Of course I did," he said moving past the girl. She skipped beside him and they entered the hall. Montgomery was chatting with Grace just inside the lobby. The weapon held a black lace fan in her right hand and waved at seeing them. Monty however, was sniffing with disdain at the plethora of American flags. Remy stopped short and stared at the distinguished southern gentleman. She gave a girlish shriek and ran forward.
"Oh my god, you have an epic beard." She said leaping up. The older man was forced to catch the short female or risk being bowled over.
"Thank you…" He said in bewilderment.
"You must give the most amazing mustache rides," she said running her little fingers through his beard.
"Excuse me, miss?"
"I wanna climb onto your face and go to town." Remy moaned and the man dropped her.
Charlie came forward and sighed, "Just ignore her. That's what I do."
"Is this a friend of yours?" The man asked in a cold derisive tone.
"This is Remy; she is… sort of an acquaintance." He admitted with a shrug.
"I thought we had something together after what happened in that foxhole," Remy said in a childishly high voice.
"I'd rather not remember that,” he shuddered while replying and turning to the older man. “Montgomery, you called me. I'll let you decide what we do today."
&nb
sp; Grace was dressed in a vintage black ball gown with red lacing. A black bonnet was carefully pinned to her hair. Another black lace scarf hid the collar at her throat, but nothing could hide the way she was glaring at the teal haired girl. Monty stepped away from Remy and said, "I was feeling better than usual, so I wanted to run a match. I do hope we get to see the Capital. It is 'that' day after all.”
"Why does that matter," Charlie asked. He assumed they would run some special event, but he hadn't heard of anything going on.
"As a historian and archaeologist, I am fascinated by the story of this world. Especially the clues they left behind." Monty said.
"Story?"
