After an hour or so our "guides" – a bunch of blue-uniformed Siegren dudes – helped us lock in our headpieces and then ushered us into the auditorium. The lights were turned so low all I could see was hulking shapes and lots of shadows. But then in a burst of brilliant color a new world was born: snow-capped mountains, lush green trees, blue skies, and a warm yellow sun. I could actually feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. And I could see my skin. Except for a thin layer of dark hair on my chest, I looked pretty much like me.
I was wearing only a loincloth, but then so was everyone else – including the women. I didn't recognize anyone. Everyone was facially young and beautiful, in a variety of hair color and body types, appearing to be in their early twenties or mid-twenties at most. Several of the men carried some extra weight and a bit of a middle-aged paunch, but several looked like fitness models.
I touched my arms, chest, and stomach, and everything – even my new chest hair - felt and looked so real that I had to focus hard to detect the differences. There was a tiny bit of blur to my muscles and bones and a few missing percentage points of realistic sensitivity, but that was about it. I was tempted to pull off my headpiece and see what was really here, but when I fingered my neck I just felt skin. It didn't quite feel like my normal skin but damn close. I was astounded. I'd never been into VR or gaming, but this was making me rethink that.
Everyone else appeared as amazed as I was. Oooos and Awwws rose in a collective symphony accented by a chorus of "Holy Shits!" We circled one another, looking each other up and down. A few brave people reached out and touched someone.
"Welcome to the New Garden of Eden!" Max Emanuel's triumphant voice filled the world.
I didn't see him anywhere, but then I didn't see anyone I recognized anywhere. If the VR projections were as accurate with the others as it was for me, I should be able to recognize them from their body types. One problem was that most if not all of the women were gym-devotees and many had been "enhanced," so even if the Siegren Suits and the VR projections weren't altering their shapes much they might tend to blur together in their gym and cosmetic surgery-induced perfection. Someone, maybe that author Jenny had mentioned, had written about how MES had basically "stamped out obesity" by inspiring more fitness from women in competition for "scarce males." This was the most graphic confirmation of that I'd ever seen.
I was suddenly, profoundly, grateful that my mom and Meredith had decided to opt out of the evening's entertainment.
Within the ebb and flow of beautiful female bodies, I thought I made out some familiar shapes. Martha Eberhart had near-perfectly formed medium-size breasts and a defined stomach with two or three cuts. I only spotted six or seven women with those features, and of those maybe two or three matched her five-six, five-seven height. Only one of them had blond hair.
I spotted a couple of male bodies that might've been Joshua.
"Hi," I called out, deciding to resolve the mystery. "This is Aiden – "
My words were instantly transformed into a deep growling series of unrecognizable sounds that may or may not have been a language. Suddenly everyone was speaking. It was like the Tower of Babel populated by the residents of the Planet of the Apes. No one could understand each other. For some reason, Max and Siegren had conspired to eliminate verbal communication in this simulation. Interesting.
Meanwhile, almost every dude's loin cloths had sprouted tents. Including mine. Understandable, I thought, given the proximity of so many half-clothed beautiful female bodies, but on the other hand, this many guys in heat at once – as a percentage of the guests – was pretty much a mathematical impossibility.
Which meant that they'd received a dose of Respite. When? I hadn't seen anyone popping pills. They could've done that beforehand, but Josh said that the men he talked to were not down with that. They'd already been wary after the first day, and my mom's impromptu blood sampling had spooked them even more. So either they'd had a change of heart, or...they'd been dosed without their knowledge. A logical possibility, but it seemed pretty extreme. But then all of this was pretty fucking extreme. What was Max's motivation? What was the point of scrambling our ability to communicate? Was that supposed to add some kinky dimension to it all?
I skirted the people, who were starting to close in on each other, and headed for a nearby tree-studded hill. The hill and trees weren't real, of course, but I did seem to be was walking up a slope, and the first tree I touched felt like real wood. They were awfully convincing props. Siegren and his people knew what they were doing.
The scene continued beyond the hill with snow-capped mountains, though I soon found my progress stopped by an invisible wall. So I settled on watching the orgy unfold below, where dozens of nubile female bodies were offering themselves with soul-wrenching abandon.
It took all my will to turn my eyes away and focus on the fictitious mountain range on the far side of my hill. I wasn't going to let myself be manipulated by whatever game Emanuel was playing. Being hyper gave me the advantage of having experience with mind-blowing horniness. Not that I could always handle it, but at least it was a familiar wrestling partner. These guys had no clue of how to deal with that intensity of feeling.
I wasn't the only one who wanted out of the Roman orgy. When I glanced back, a long-legged beautiful redhead was walking up the hill toward me. I didn't want to feel the burst of excitement, but some things even my iron-willed discipline couldn't control. I gripped tufts of no doubt fake grass on the hill and concentrated on a distant mountain peak. Sadly, it began to resemble a phallic symbol.
The woman murmured something. It sounded faintly Arabic. I shook my head and she smiled and nodded. I figured the program was triggered by any human speech at its point of origin. A speech modifier in the headpiece seemed the simplest explanation, but who knew? I made a note to check into VR in more depth –
Her hand on my shoulder made me turn – and her soulful blue eyes obliterated my rambling thoughts. I was lost. She spoke again. I stared at her pretty mouth, trying to read her lips, wondering if the VR program was interfering with that, too. I thought I could make out "are you" but that was about it. The more I stared at her mouth the more I wanted to kiss it. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and leaned in. Our mouths met – hers still in motion. Electricity that might or might not have had anything to do with the program sparked from her lips. She started to pull away but I held the back of her neck. She stopped resisting.
I couldn't tell how much was the sensory network in our suits or the natural contact of flesh, but the kissing was awesome. While the people below rutted like crazed animals, our caresses and kisses were slow and tender and filled with electric promise. Who was this person who could bring this out in me? As she leaned back on the soft ground and rolled up her loin cloth I was reminded of Chrissie Hayashi's lover, Elise, the time she'd exposed herself in Aspen. Not quite, but close. Could be her, subtly altered by the program...
I melded with her. That's what it felt like, instead of the usual, practiced entering. Every stroke felt not only fantastic in the usual way but pregnant with meaning. That was what I'd been missing, I realized. There was another dimension to physical pleasure, and for some unknown reason I was feeling it now. Maybe it was just the Siegren Suit, but what were the odds that Siegren could've stumbled on a program for romantic meaning? How could something like that be mathematically quantified?
I held her as we both climaxed with gasping cries, but our togetherness was the extraordinary thing. There was no logical reason for the sense of completion flowing through me. Or was there? What if Max Emanuel and accomplices had added some form of psychotropics to the drinks or food? That would be insane, but then what was sane about dispensing untested drugs to fuel uncontrolled orgies? About ignoring signs of anomalous behavior? It was almost as if Max Emanuel and Marion Ellsworth believed they were not only above the law, but above reality itself.
My beautiful partner sat up, pointing urgently below, jarring me from my reverie. I sat up. At
first I thought I was observing some demented game of tag: men sprinting around being pursued by women – some in groups, others as individuals. But as I watched I saw these weren't cute L'il Abner mock chases. These women appeared to be acting out some variation of savage Dionysian maenads combined with the Night of the Living Dead: clawing and biting and tackling guys everywhere. Some of the bigger, more fit guys – I suspected many of them were Ellsworth or Max Emanuel security people – were holding their own, throwing punches, knocking their female assailants to the ground. Others – the older, less fit guys – not so much.
The lights came on. Not sunlight but garish white fluorescent lights. The sun and the perfect blue skies were gone. In its place was an auditorium filled with fake trees and hills and sand – and people running around in brown Siegren Suits with their privates hanging out.
I ripped my headpiece off. My erstwhile lover scrambled up with a terrified cry and fled down the ersatz hill as if I posed greater danger than the clawing women below.
Security dudes armed with Tasers and Ziploc manacles swarmed in from all directions while Max Emanuel's voice urged calm from loudspeakers spaced around the auditorium. Some of the women stopped fighting and accepted their restraints. Others fought on. A few twitched spasmodically on the end of Taser wires. My former mate disappeared into the crowd. I wondered why she hadn't gone berserk like the others.
I reattached my bottom flap and climbed down the artificial hill, moving away from the melee toward the front doors. I needed to get back to the cabin and make sure my mom and Merry were okay.
I encountered a tall woman in a baseball cap and jogging suit crouched behind the base of the hill near the doors, aiming a small camera at the scene within. She lowered the camera. Jenny?
"Aiden!" She motioned fiercely. "Come back here out of sight!"
"Jenny? What the heck...?"
"What the hell is more like it."
One of the security dudes was squinting in our direction, suspicion shaping his frown.
"You! Come here!"
"Time to go."
Jenny grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the doors.
"Stop!"
I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I was inclined to follow Jenny's lead. We burst through the doors and started to sprint around the building toward the nature path that ran through the grounds. I jerked my hand free.
"I'm not sure where you're going, but I need to get to my cabin."
She slowed to a jog, hesitated, and with a shake of her head said, "Okay. But stay low, avoid the gorillas."
For an instant I thought she might be delusional, too, but then I realized she was talking about the security personnel. Or I hoped she was.
Meredith was already at the cabin, pacing back in the living room when we burst inside. She was wearing a Siegren suit! I gawked at her.
"Merry, what –"
"Aiden! Thank God." She blinked in shock as Jenny entered behind me. "What is she doing...?"
"She was in the auditorium taking photos," I said.
"Video," said Jenny. "Lots of video. And photos."
"You ended up going into 'New Eden'?" I broke in.
Meredith's face darkened with what I thought was guilt. "We went in looking for you. When you disappeared with Josh, I assumed the worst. Unfortunately, I was right."
"We?" I felt a sharp cramp in my chest. "Are you saying my mom went in there with you?"
Meredith hesitated in a way that made me fear for my mother's health. "Yes. She's in my room right now...changing."
"She's okay?"
"Physically okay. We didn't get caught up in the women's attacks, of course." Meredith turned to Jenny. "How did you get in here?"
"I guess you could say the back roads." Jenny gave her and me a thin-lipped smile. "I've been staying in a tent since Friday a couple miles from here" – she shot me a sudden hard look – "near Secret Lake."
"You've been spying on us," said Meredith. "You're doing a story on the conference."
"Yes."
"Why?" I asked.
"I don't know. I just had a reporter's hunch, I guess. I had no idea I'd see what I've seen."
I swallowed. "How much have you seen?"
"Too much."
Her eyes drilled into mine. Camped near Secret Lake. I connected the dots and it wasn't a pretty picture.
The door flew open and several freaked-out looking women rushed in, Chrissie Hayashi in the lead. Everyone still wore Siegren Suits, and most of their crotch flaps hung open. Usually a sexy sight, but now it sent a bolt of fear through me.
"We need to leave," Chrissie gasped. "The men are after us – trying to round us up!"
I looked at Meredith and Jenny, who stood like stone sentries, their faces offering no guidance.
"They're probably just worried about your, you know, health," I ventured.
"Our health?" Chrissie and her followers' eyes narrowed on me in a way that made me draw back a step. "There's nothing wrong with our health! Are you with them?"
"Uh, no."
"You don't sound sure." Chrissie and her troops advanced toward me. Meredith and Jenny stepped between us. "We need a ride out of here, Mere. Get your keys and take us to you to your bus."
Meredith regarded her friends with an air of forced calm. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea."
Chrissie marched into the kitchen and slid open a drawer, drawing out a monumental steak knife. She pointed the knife straight at Meredith's chest.
"That wasn't a request, dear Mere. I'm not interested in your ideas. Just get your keys. You're driving us out of this madhouse right now."
"She's right," said Jenny, raising her hands, facing Meredith as she edged through the kitchen toward the door. "The men are after us. We need to run for it."
Chrissie's knife arm lowered a few inches, but its tip still followed Jenny's progress suspiciously. Jenny twisted and dropped her hands in an eye blink, clapping them on Chrissie's hand and forearm as if applauding her. The steak knife flew loose, clattering on the floor. Jenny snapped a kick to her chest, propelling Chrissie across the kitchen and onto her back. Jenny snatched up the knife and faced the five women in the entryway.
"Take your friend," she said, "and get the fuck out of here. If you come back, I will hurt you."
They stumbled over each other backing out the door, showing no interest in retrieving Chrissie. Not even her blond lover, Elise.
Jenny swiftly locked and deadbolted the door behind them.
My mom finally emerged from Meredith's room in a half-buttoned blouse and a tangled mop of hair, as if she'd just got out of bed or the shower. She was wiping her eyes, which appeared bloodshot, as if she'd been crying. I was a little shocked. The only time I could remember my stoic, in-control mom ever crying was when my dad had left her for that bimbo.
"Mom?"
She nodded, sniffled, and appeared to gather herself. "What just happened?"
As if in answer, Chrissie groaned from the kitchen floor.
"She threatened us with a knife," said Meredith. "She has some paranoid delusion the men here are trying to get her."
"Oh, God." My mom rubbed her forehead as if she wanted to erase her dystopian thoughts. "Whatever got through from the Respite is wreaking havoc with their neural function."
"Why isn't it affecting the men that way?" Jenny asked.
My mom peered at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Aren't you...? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just checking up on your son, since you seem so opposed to taking any parental responsibility for him."
"You were just whoring yourself out to get your big story."
"Whoring?" Jenny took a step toward her. Meredith and I both moved in between them. A groan from Chrissie – pulling herself off the floor hand over hand on a kitchen cabinet like a mountain climber – provided a timely distraction.
"She's right about one thing," said Meredith with a nod to Chrissie. "We should leave."
"You're right,"
said my mom. "Your car or mine?"
"You think they're just going to let you drive out of here?" Jenny was shaking her head at our apparent naiveté. "They'll have the checkout road blocked, I guarantee it. They need to control this situation."
"They can't keep everyone locked up here," said Meredith. "Not these people."
"Maybe not indefinitely. But I'm betting Max Emanuel is now in full panic mode. This place is stocked with Graywater people. They'll take your cells, computers, tablets – definitely my camera – anything that could link you to the outside world. If only for tonight, until they get a handle on this."
"Listen to her," Chrissie wheezed, leaning against the kitchen counter, clutching her chest. "I know you think I'm crazy, but the truth is Emanuel and his people are the ones who've gone insane. She's right – they'll never let us leave through the gate. We'll have to hike out of here and find help outside the retreat."
"I hate to agree with a knife-wielding crazy lady, but..." Jenny spread her hands. "I have a tent three miles from here. It will be awkward in the dark, but doable. My car's another four-mile hike. We can make that tomorrow morning. Maybe grab some blankets and bottled water and let's go."
My mom and Meredith exchanged a look. My mom nodded.
"Okay," said Meredith. "Let's do it."
We yanked the blankets off the beds. I noticed a discarded Siegren Suit crumpled on the floor in the walk-in closet.
Someone hammered on the door. Jenny placed a finger to her lips and pointed to the room's window. We gathered silently around her with our blankets and water as she cranked the window wide open. I helped her pry out the screen. It was a short but awkward drop to the ground.
I slipped out first. Chrissie push to the front and I helped her through the window. The hammering on the front door repeated. "This is Retreat security. Please open the door immediately. There is a gas leak that requires immediate evacuation!"
"Gas leak, my ass," Jenny whispered, helping my mom into my arms. She squirmed free with a shudder before I'd finished lowering her to the ground. A quick flash of terror: had she caught what the women here had? Was she going to "turn"? I blinked away that chilling vision as I helped Meredith and then Jenny squeeze through the window. My mom wouldn't have had sexual contact with any of the Reprise-dosed men.
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