Virtually Dead

Chapter Fourteen

Spread over the vast indoor floorspace of a huge, brick warehouse, the Armory Overstock sold everything from armoured vehicles, helicopters and troop carriers, to personal weapons, bugging devices and gridwide radar systems.

Chas landed with a thump next to Doobie, in front of an enormous welcome board and a water fountain. He looked about as the store began to take shape around him.

Doobie: It’s taking a while to rez today.

Chas: Rez?

Doobie: For things to upload and become focused. SL is responsible for introducing a lot of new words to the English language.

Chas: If only they made things any clearer. I have so many initial letters going round my head, I’m beginning to feel like a walking acronym.

Doobie Littlething: Oh, good word, Chas.

An invitation appeared. Doobie Littlething is offering you Friendship. Accept or Decline. Chas hesitated for only a moment before clicking to accept.

Chas: So that makes us friends now, does it? It’s not that long ago I was “fucking incompetent”.

Doobie: Hahahaha. Yes, well, that probably hasn’t changed. Though maybe we can do something about it. But you know, Chas, I haven’t met that many people in here who would know what an acronym was. That makes you a little unusual. And maybe worth knowing.

Unexpectedly, she did a little backward flip, landing on her tip-toes and holding out her arms for balance, like a ballet dancer.

Doobie: Follow me.

Chas struggled to keep up as Doobie strode off across the floor, dodging banners and stands.

Chas: What are we here for?

Doobie: To get you an AV radar tracking system. You clearly have no idea what’s going on around you. Which is something of a disadvantage for a private investigator. Where is your partner, by the way? Did he ever show up again?

Chas: Twist? No, he never did.

Doobie: Must’ve been a bad crash, then. Sometimes it can take forever to get back online.

They walked past giant billboards advertising weapons and bugging devices. One promoted a mosquito, which it claimed was SL’s smallest weapon. Each one, it promised, would target the person of your choice and keep attacking until you called it off. It also offered the opportunity to rez multiple mosquitoes for swarming attacks.

Another described itself as a Covert Ops Clock.

Chas: Innoculous-looking clock (and scripts) spy on the unsuspecting. Shouldn’t that be “innocuous”? Unless of course it’s some kind of clock that injects its victims. Maybe its hands are hypodermic syringes.

Doobie Littlething laughs long and loud.

Doobie: You are a funny man, Chas.

Chas: LOLOL. But really, Doobs, there are all these clever people who can write complex software scripts but can barely spell, or conjugate a verb. Makes you wonder where the world of communication will finish up.

Doobie: Probably in a bunch of acronyms that nobody understands.

In the end, Doobie selected a simple radar hud that would provide Chas with a permanent display, letting him know exactly who was within ninety-six metres of him at any given time, with the option of caging or orbiting anyone who seemed threatening.

Doobie: Just 500 Lindens

Chas checked his Linden total.

Chas: I don’t have enough, Doobs.

Doobie Littlething sighs.

Doobie: Okay, here, I’ll lend it to you. But in return I’ll expect you to take me out to dinner.

A cash register sounded, and 500 Lindens were paid into Chas’ account. He purchased the radar and filed it in his inventory for later.

Chas: How can I take you out to dinner, Doobie? Man cannot live by pixels alone.

Doobie: Hahahaha. Don’t worry, Chas. I know the very place. And their deep-fried pixels in batter are excellent.

Chas followed Doobie’s TP and found himself on a breezy island filled with flowers and trees, jagged green rocks rising up to pierce the purest of blue skies. They were in a garden with pink petals falling all around them like snow. Parasols shaded circular glass tables. Slow-dance poseballs were scattered around a lush, green lawn. Finger food and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket were laid out on a buffet table.

Doobie: You see, not everywhere in SL is seedy or violent.

Chas: Where are we?

Doobie: Midsomer Isle. This place is known as Puck’s Hideaway. Quite romantic, really.

Chas turned around and saw that Doobie had changed out of her armour and camouflage and was now sporting a black beret, black scarf, and a cream chiffon top, with tight, black, three-quarter length pants.

Chas: So why did you bring me here?

Doobie: Because you made me laugh. And because you owe me 500 lindens. I always believe in looking after my investments. Come on, take a look at the island.

And she soared up into the sky. Chas followed and they hovered together for a few minutes looking at the view spread out below them. It was spectacular. Chas could never have imagined that something like this might exist in a virtual world. Waterfalls and minarets, hidden terraces, domed pavilions, and private houses tucked away in hidden coves, rocky pinnacles rising on all sides. He looked again at Doobie’s name tag.

Chas: So why do you dance?

Doobie: For money, of course. I have to finance my shopping sprees somehow.

Chas: What do you buy?

Doobie: Well, when I’m not buying guns or weapons, it would be clothes, or hair, or new skins.

Chas: You change your appearance, then?

Doobie: From time to time. When you’re a dancer, you have to keep up with the rest. Got to look good or you lose your job.

Chas: But you’re really more of a stripper than a dancer. If what I saw at Sinful Sensations was anything to go by.

Doobie Littlething shrugs.

Doobie: Sure. What’s wrong with that? I’m also an escort.

Chas: Really? What does an escort do?

Doobie: Hahahaha. You’re kidding me, Chas. What does an escort do in RL?

Chas: You’re a prostitute?

Doobie: I prefer “hooker”. It’s a little sluttier, don’t you think? LOL. Yeh, sure. I have sex for money.

Chas gazed at her in amazement. Then remembered his own missing parts.

Chas: How on earth does an AV have sex?

Doobie Littlething laughs till she’s fit to burst.

Doobie: My God, you really are a newbie, aren’t you. Let’s have a look at your profile.

A brief pause.

Doobie: OMG! You only came in today! No wonder you know sweet FA.

Chas called up Doobie’s profile and saw that she had been “born” nearly three years ago. There was a picture of her, and her info panel described her as an escort, model, and exotic dancer. IM me for my rate card, it implored potential clients. Chas clicked the 1st Life tab, but that window was empty.

Chas: You have a rate card?

Doobie: Sure. I’ll give you my rates. Are you interested in having sex with me?

A blue window appeared to let him know that Doobie Littlething was making him an offer. He declined it hastily and felt himself blushing again.

Chas: No, I do not want to have sex with you.

He paused.

Chas: And anyway, I don’t have a penis.

Doobie: LOLOLOLOL! Well, that would make it a little difficult. Let me take you to my favourite spot.

She turned and soared off into the gathering gloom, and as Chas followed, he saw the sun setting on the horizon, sending jewels of claret sparkling across the darkening ocean. A domed, circular terrace surrounded by painted columns was perched on the edge of the cliff, looking directly out across the sunset.

Doobie dropped like a stone, landing right on the edge of the terrace, and Chas followed. For a moment he held his breath. For set in the middle of the terrace, on a Persian rug, was a large, square chess table laid out with a full complement of chessmen, chairs facing each other across the battlefield. The sunset was lined up perfectly with the four rows of squares between the opposing players.

Doobie: You probably don’t play. Not many people seem to these days. But I love the mental challenge of it. And I love a man who can push me to my limits. In all sorts of ways. I sometimes come here on my own and play against myself. LOL. That’s a unique kind of challenge.

Chas: I know. I’ve played against myself many times these last months.

She turned to look at him.

Doobie: Have you: why?

Chas: Because I have no one else to play with.

She seemed to think about that for a moment.

Doobie: Would you like a game?

Chas: I’d love a game.

And so they sat with the sun setting between them and made their first few moves across a virgin board.

Chas: It’s strange, I haven’t been here that long today, and yet it seems to have been light and dark, light and dark.

Doobie: Well, SL like RL, has time zones, and we’ve been teleporting back and forth across them. But a Second Life day is only two hours long. So we cram a lot into a day here. And we don’t waste time walking or driving or taking airplanes. Or eating and sleeping. It makes the whole SL experience that much more concentrated, that much more intense. Things come and go more quickly, including people. And all their human emotions — love, hate, jealousy, envy — are like the light that burns twice as bright but only half as long. If you stay in SL, Chas, you’ll experience much more than you ever expected.

They played, then, in silence, a game so evenly balanced that they were each down to their last few players before she finally chased his king into a corner and forced his surrender. He was glad that Doobie couldn’t see the tears that moistened his eyes behind the screen. She played just like Mora. Not with great flair, but with a relentless, intelligent pursuit that finally ground down her opponent. And he was reminded so strongly of Mora that it almost hurt.

They sat for several minutes without talking.

Doobie: Bad loser?

Chas: LOL. No, Doobie. Just replaying the game to figure out how to beat you next time.

Doobie Littlething smiles.

She stood up suddenly.

Doobie: I promised you could take me out to dinner. I’ll send you a TP.

And she was gone in a sprinkling of fairy dust.

Chas followed Doobie’s TP, and found himself in a circular terrace just like the one they had left. Except that the chess board had been replaced by a dining table for two, with candles and a chocolate and strawberry fondu, and white wine chilling in a bucket. There was no sea view here. They were almost completely enclosed by tall conifers, and the columns supporting the dome were draped with wreaths of pink and white roses. Somehow, in the time it had taken to teleport from one location to another, Doobie had changed her clothes again. Now she wore a flowing, full-length black dress with a daringly low cut neckline revealing full, sensuous breasts. Chas found his eyes being drawn by them, and wondered how he could possibly be turned on by a cartoon. But somehow the personality behind the image was transcending the visual. He thought that Doobie was incredibly attractive.

He glanced down at his own newbie clothes.

Chas: I really need to get myself a new outfit.

Doobie: Need to get yourself some money first. Then you can build as big a wardrobe as you like. I have so many clothes in my inventory, collected over nearly three years, that I know I’ll never ever wear them all again.

They sat down and were immediately animated to eat from the plates of steaming virtual food in front of them. Chas seemed to be carving his way through a thick steak.

Two chings in rapid succession drew Chas’ eye to the fact that he had an incoming IM. It was from Twist.

Chas looked up to find Doobie watching him.

Doobie: IM?

Chas: How did you know?

Doobie: Well, when someone takes nearly a minute to answer a question, I have to figure they are a little distracted.

Chas: Oh, I’m sorry, Doobs. It was Twist. What was the question?

Doobie: I was offering you Landmarks to stores where you can pick up decent clothes at reasonable prices. You interested?

Chas: What’s a Landmark?

Doobie: A teleport link. There’s a folder for them in your Inventory. I’ll look out some LMs for interesting places for you to visit in SL. Pass them on to you next time. And I know there’ll be a next time, because you still owe me 500 Lindens.

Chas looked at her speculatively.

Chas: How much time do you spend in here on an average day, Doobie?

Doobie: Pretty much all my waking hours. Except when I’m eating. Although sometimes I eat at the computer, too. LOL.

Chas: Well, what does your family say?

There was quite a long silence.

Doobie: I don’t have any family, Chas. None to speak of, anyway.

He decided not to probe any further. It was odd how it was possible to divine reluctance, hesitation, embarrassment, amusement, without ever really seeing someone, or hearing their voice.

Chas: So what else do you do with your time? I mean, when you’re not dancing or... entertaining clients?

Doobie: I hunt griefers.

Chas: What’s a griefer?

Doobie: LOL. Well, what does it sound like, Chas? It’s someone who causes grief. You get them in RL. Troublemakers. Vandals, criminals, people who infect computers with viruses... Folk are just the same in the virtual world as they are in the real one. Only here, it’s gloves off. They get what’s coming to them. If Linden Lab don’t deal with them, then citizens take the law into their own hands. We go after them where they hide and gather. Free damage areas where there are frequent pitched battles. That’s why I have my armour and my weapons. I usually go griefer hunting at a place called Sandbox Island. Anything goes there. And you know what? It’s fun.

She suddenly stood up.

Doobie: I’m not hungry any more. Do you wanna dance?

Chas felt that he had barely begun his meal. But Doobie was clearly restless. She didn’t seem to want to remain in one place for more than a few minutes at a time. And, besides, he was curious to know what it would feel like to dance with her.

Chas: Sure.

He stood up.

Doobie: I’ll TP you.

And she vanished.

The poseballs for Slow-dance v3 were set in the centre of yet another terrace ringed by columns. Petals fell here, too. The night sky was only just visible through the trees that grew all around, swaying in the cool night breezes that blew across Midsomer Isle from the ocean. Discreetly placed lamps threw the long shadows of the columns across the dancefloor, and Doobie was already attached to her poseball, waiting, with arms extended, for her partner. Chas clicked and joined her.

The dance began formally enough. Chas had his arm around Doobie’s waist. Their left and right hands extended together.

Doobie: On your toolbar, at the bottom right, you’ll see a musical symbol. Click on it.

Chas did as he was told, and immediately soft, seductive Celtic music filled his ears, transforming the atmosphere of the night.

Almost at the same time, Doobie’s arms slipped up around his neck, drawing him closer, and he watched as his hands slid behind her to glide over the curve of her buttocks. He felt a strange, unaccountable thrill. How was it possible for animated pixels on a screen to have such an effect on him? The AV’s gazed at each other in the night, a strange intensity in their eyes, and Chas felt the beginnings of butterflies in his stomach.

Doobie’s hands slid over his chest, and she buried her head in his shoulder as his arms moved around her waist to hold her tight. Chas felt a stirring in his loins and had the oddest urge to kiss her. An urge frustrated by the limitations of the animation.

Chas: This is nice.

Doobie: Mmmm. Yeh. Can you feel my breath on your neck as you hold me?

Chas: Yes, I can.

And he almost believed that he could.

Doobie: Then feel my hands as they glide over your chest, slipping beneath the cool cotton of your shirt to touch the heat of your skin.

Chas: OMG Doobie, should we be doing this? I hardly know you.

Doobie: Don’t worry. You’ll get my bill tomorrow.

Chas: Hahahaha.

Doobie: He laughs!

Chas: You’re not serious?

Doobie Littlething smiles.

Doobie: Of course. Not. LOL. Thank you for brightening up my day, Chas.

She paused.

Doobie: So, tell me, how does a newbie get to be so good-looking on his first day in SL?

Chas: I had inside help.

She was silent again for a while, and they listened to the music and wrapped themselves in each other’s arms.

Doobie: Will you play chess with me again sometime?

Chas: Well, as long as you hold my marker for 500 Lindens, I guess you can ask me to do anything you want.

Doobie Littlething smiles.

Doobie: I like a man who plays chess. Never yet found one who could beat me, though. And never will fall for one till I do.

Chas: I’ll have to practise, then.

Suddenly she detached herself from her poseball.

Doobie: I have to go.

Chas was disappointed. He clicked to stand up and detached himself from his now solo dance, standing awkwardly, wondering how to say goodbye, and how he would ever find his way out of here.

Another invitation appeared. This time Doobie was asking permission to animate his AV. He consented, and she advanced toward, him, placing her arms around his neck and giving him a long, slow kiss. It was bewilderingly exciting. Then she stepped back.

Doobie: I’ll look for you next time. You’ll find me on your Friends List now, if you ever need to IM me. Bye.

A shower of lights flared and died in the night. And she was gone.

Michael sat staring at Chas on the screen, and made the slow transition from night-time Second Life to the morning sun of real life streaming through his office window. He looked at the clock on the wall. He had spent nearly three hours in this other world, where he had become someone else. For the first time in months, the pain of losing Mora had not been the foremost thing on his mind. What surprised and disturbed him most, however, was how Chas had in some way taken over, like some hidden part of himself that he barely knew existed. He was not Chas, and Chas was not him. But they shared feelings, and memories, and pain. They were one and at the same time two. It had been an extraordinary, whirlwind experience, and it was a little scary.