A Future We'd Like to See 1.11 - Tales of the Rainy City Act I By Twoflower (Copyright 1993) "What's this?" I said, fingering the odd cube in my virtual hands. It didn't seem to want to stay rigid, like other VOSNet shapes, as it oozed and tilted and shifted color at random times. "New program. ULTRA ULTRA hot from some guy down near the Fathersystem. It's the latest in gaming technology," AutoReverse said. "And what's more, you don't need a VOS hookup to use it." "Come again?" I said, tossing the greasy cube back and forth between my hands. "Think, man! This is just some cheezy simulation piped right into yer brain. All vectors and 3-D and whatnot, and no matter how you simulate it, it's gonna look unreal. What if someone made a system based on thoughts in your head? No need for realism, it'd be as real as any other memory." "Cute idea," I said, "But what does this cube have to do with it?" "It progs up your brain, bud," AutoReverse said. "Lays some code in that 80% of your mind you don't use. While offline, you just get all comfy-like, tap yer head twice and it's game time." "Sounds like something quite capable of deep-frying my grey matter," I said, tossing the cube back. "No thank you." "Hey, man, I use it. I haven't gone all insane in the brain yet." "You were insane to begin with, Auto." "Hey, I'm one of the most sensible guys I know. Remember when Stop Motion and Doublecheck were jumping off that cliff with those monofilament elastic things? How insane THAT was?" "You did it with them anyway, Auto!" "Yeah, but I felt bad about it afterwards!" Auto protested. "I mean, I coulda damaged my hands. Never be able to jack in again. Now come on, I went through a lot of trouble gettin' that prog for you. I heard about it, and thought to myself, 'Benson now, there's a real games freak. He'd LOVE this.' So I pick up two, one for me and one for you." "And where's yours?" "One use installer, man. You just push that cube 'gainst yer head in here, and bam, it's in there for good." "Sounds rather... permanent." "Hey, man, this COULD be the gaming wave of the century," Auto said. "You prog games. How would you like to miss some new tech and end up a cruddy shareware coder for the rest of YOUR life?" "Shareware isn't that bad," I said. "I did a quick number for DI Softcorp awhile back. They were working on some VOS convert to a home video game system. Shame though, the cheap-ass company made them take out all the good stuff in the game." "Either way, if this soft widebands and sells millions, you're gonna have missed your only chance to examine it first and make a clone... money, money money for you." "Alright, alright!" I caved in. "I'll take it." "You won't regret it, man," Auto said, throwing the slippery cube back to me. "It's the shit that dreams are made of. Gotta jack, my mom's probably pissed that I missed dinner again. Kudos." The grubby image of Auto derezzed from the net. I examined the cube again. It didn't look like much, just a constantly morphing cube, writhing in my virtual hands. Well, it can't hurt to try it out. But I'd better get some backup assistance too. I took a deep breath, and pushed the cube against my forehead. BIP. Nothing. Cube gone, no weird feelings at all. Normally, if this was a dramatic production, there'd be whiz-bang special effects all over the place. In fact, I think I'd be infinitely more comfortable if there were. I jacked out, the loud but familiar setting of the Peasluvdope club fading into view. My brain seemed to be working... there was still the Looking Into Infinity look the club had, but that's because of the mirrors everywhere, not any fault with my brain. I certainly looked normal. Baseball cap : backwards. Skin : black. Species : human. Sex : male. Armpits... sniff, hmm : acceptable. "Welcome back to reality, Bensonmeister," Fluki said, swirling some more muffbuggl around in a glass. "How was yer trip?" Fluki appeared normal as well, in his weather-beaten SAVE THE SARENS t-shirt and pants, as well as the Lennonesque glasses. No optical errors there. "Odd," I said, removing the trode helmet and flipping my computer back to boring 2-D screen operating system mode. "Bumped into Auto again." "Auto? That little twerp still netrunning?" Eroki said, giggling. "I remember the time he tried to ask me out to the him prom. Like, gag me with a credit chip, he was five years older than me and had zits to boot." Eroki seemed a bit greener than normal, but that was probably just a bug in the club's lighting rig. Otherwise, she looked normal; a female clone of Fluki. "Well, he seems to have found this new dream game of sorts," I said. "Neato!" Fluki said, interest piqued. "Can I give it a shot sometime?" "Not really. It's some new direct interface with your brain sort of things," I said. "Sounds nasty, man," Fluki said, downing some more of the sugary beverage. "Sure you want to screw with some half-baked invention given to you by Auto?" "The guy hasn't messed with me before," I said. "He's cool with me. But if either of you two see me twitchin', get me to a hospital or something, alright?" "Fine by me," Fluki said. "But I don't go on ER duty for a few hours. You'd have inferior workmanship." I playfully gave Fluki the finger and tapped the side of my head twice, ignoring his hysterical laughter and Eroki's giggling. * The man faded from view as I was fading into view. "Hey!" I shouted, but he was gone. Couldn't make out much : human guy, red jacket, not much else. Didn't matter, I'm sure he'd be around this game again. And what a game it was!! I was home. And it was just how I remembered it : urban hood, graffiti and brick, sun shinin' down on the cracked pavement. Can't find a more homey place than that, really. It looked like a great day, too. Nobody was shooting at anyone else. Some kids were playing ball in a nearby court. A few cars rolled by, and I recognized friends I hadn't seen in YEARS, ever since I jetted from Terra with my new buds, Eroki and Fluki, the Saren Twin Terrors. "Hey, Benson!" a voice behind me called. I turned around-- "TAMI?" I blurted. "Hon," she said, giving me a quick kiss. "Eh?" I said, confused. "What gives?" "Come on, get your butt inside," she said. "Food's gettin' cold." "What food? Since when did you cook? In the three weeks I dated you, not once did you c--" "Three weeks?" she laughed. "Make that YEARS. Next thing you know you'll be forgetting our wedding day." "What wedding day?" "Aw, quit jokin' around and get inside, will you?" she laughed, walking back into a home I didn't recognize. "Too weird," I said, mostly to myself. I really oughtta go tell the Flukster about this. How do I get out? Is it just a matter of thinking, I want out-- * "How many fingers am I holding up, dude?" Fluki asked. "You're not holding any up." "Okay. What's this?" "It's the wooden cross thingy you wear around your neck." "Okay, he's not demonically possessed," Fluki confirmed, returning his necklace to its proper place under his vest. "Welcome to reality. So, what's this game? 'nother run around the castle and blow away the baddies game?" "I don't get it," I said, trying to stop the slight ring in my head. "It's not a game, it's like... a dream. I was HOME, dude." "Someone simulated South Central LA?" "Naw... I don't know how, but it knew what I'd like. I was MARRIED to this girl I only dated for three weeks!" "Was she hot?" "Atomic," I said. "Sounds like whoever progged that brain game reads up on his ancient science fiction," Fluki said, swilling some more muffbuggl. "Yeah!" Eroki said. "It's like one of those books where you live in a dream and everything's great, and then you end up trapped there or something. What's the name of that book again?" "There were a slew of 'em, if I recall," Fluki said. "Name duddnt matter, the plot's the same. And if this game of yours is anything like that, you're in deep doggie doodle if you take another trip inside your ego." "Come on, it's not that bad," I found myself saying. "All you gotta do to leave is think that you wanna go. It's fun, man. I can't wait to give it another shot." "Warning! Danger Wil Robinson, Danger!" Fluki sirened. "I can't give you the Fluki Guarantee on this one, pal. Sounds like bad karma to this Saren." "Gimmie a break man, I'm not ADDICTED or anything," I laughed, ignoring what I really wanted to say. "Monster games gone awry, that's just fiction. I *write* games, man, if anybody's an expert, it's me. You just hit the good 'ol quit key and you're out." "And if there's no quit key?" "Reboot." "Great. So how do you reboot your mind?" * I walked back home, handy umbrella and waterproof backpack keeping C'atel's constant rains away from my deck and trodes. The party breaks up as it usually does every single night of the week, Eroki begging Fluki to dance, Fluki refusing as he says it's 'conformist mass media', and Eroki wandering off to dance on her own. Fluki usually gets bored waiting and heads home, and I head home shortly after that. I got back to my cheap C'atel pad, the one with the 6-foot tall erotic dancer hologram advertising the seedier shops below my apartment. The view's great, but repetitive as the owner didn't bother paying for extra frames, and the think goes on the blink occasionally, horribly mutating the dancer's form to something no sane man should have to see. This buzzing in my noggin had been getting worse. I whapped myself a few times on the head to clear it up, the dream game blipping on for a momentary second, and the buzzing vanished without a trace. Then it came back, quiet, but steadily growing. I tapped again and left the game, and it stopped, then resumed. Hmmm. I tapped and entered, then lingered. No buzzing here. There seems to be quite a crowd, though. Why are my buds and family lined up along the street like that? "Tami?" I shouted, picking my 'wife' out of the crowd and dashing towards here. "What's goin' on, hon?" "It's the PRESIDENT!" she shouted with joy, bouncing up and down. "He's going on a parade route here in LA!" That's insane, were my first thoughts. Send the galaxy's most prominent political figure through an area plagued with gangs and violence for over a hundred years?! If that's not an obvious setup for something to go wrong-- Screaming, gunshots, whooshing noises. I was right. A huge red from swooped down from the sky, plucking That Wacky President from his limo's sun roof and carrying him off into the sky. "Quick, man!" Andre said, pulling up in a hoverjeep. "Get in! We gotta get the president!" "Andre?" I mused in confusion to my old best bud. "What are you doing here? And why are you dressed up in that silly camouflage outfit?" "We're a team, remember?" he said, as I jumped into the back of the jeep. "The Armed Avengers! Now hang on, here we go!" "WEEEEIIrddd..." I muttered to myself as the jeep took to the air, following the red ship carrying the confused but silly politician into the air. "Dude, what the hell are you saying?" I shouted to Andre over the rushing air. "I'm a super hero?" "Yeah, remember? We're the crusaders of good and justice!" "You're sick, man. You used to steal slushies when Abdul wasn't looking at the local Kwikie Mart!" "What?" he shouted back. "When was this? We've been crimefighters for years!" "I want OUT!" I shouted to the winds as we continued to ascend. "Do you hear me? This is a seriously perverted version of a place I hold most dear, and I want it gone NOW!" Funny, I didn't see my apartment. In fact, I hadn't moved a damn inch. "No time!" Andre shouted. "Get yer gear on! We're approaching the MOTHERSHIP!" "Mother WHAT?" I shouted, pulling on the camo jumpsuit. Certainly was a mother of a ship. Big sucker, too. And naturally, the docking hatch was WIDE open. And why not? What would be the sense of keeping the heroes from having a chance of winning, if this was pure fantasy? In fact, those doors should be-- "Hang on, they're closing! I'm gunnin' the gas!" Andre yelled. Yup. Cliche #644, the Slowly Closing Doors. And naturally, Andre makes it in just before they close. The jeep swerved around the huge cargo bay, coming to a rest on the metal floor. "Come on! There is no time to lose!" "Forget you," I said. "What?!" "I'm stayin' right here," I said. "I can't get outta this hell-dream, so I'm stayin' put until someone DRAGS me from this spot. Hell no, I won't go until I'm allowed!" "But we have to chase Vincent, the Crimson Shadow of Doom, and get the President to safety!" "That's what the military's for, bud. Not us. I'll be taking a nap if you need me. If any bad guys want to talk, they'll have to come to me--" "Hello, Mr. Benson," a sinister voice echoed. "--as you can see," I finalized. "Figures." "Welcome to your death!" the voice echoed, from an unseen location. Locations are NEVER seen when a bad guy is in them. "This cargo hold is filling with water, very slowly. You will drown, and fail in your attempt to rescue the President!" "Great!" I said to the world at large. "Terrific! And where's this water coming from? Won't the extra weight pull the ship down? And how are you gonna drain it, just dump it over some city? Yeah, that's a real good way to be spotted by every local air force base. Or better yet, I drown. Whee! What then? How does the fantasy continue? Or do I just get rescued at the very last second? Most likely in time to watch you kidnap my wife and kids, or to have her show up in spandex with a machine gun to bail my ass out in time for the audience to get a nice sex scene. No thank you! I don't want to be in pictures. I'm a bit sick of this, and I'm sure whoever the fuck is controlling this nightmare is too! So how about letting me out and then we'll talk it over like rational, nonheroic, nonsuper-powered, nondramatic people?!!?" Dramatic pause. There'd HAVE to be, after all. "You sure you feel that way?" the overhead voice said, crestfallen. "That's the way it's gotta be," I said. "I'm through playing." The hangar faded from view, and the guy I originally saw fading out appeared before me. He looked downright sad, to put it bluntly. Glasses slipping down, red jacket a mess, eyes mournful. The kid didn't seem real happy. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone," he said. "I just... I'm supposed... to make you happy. And I thought everybody wanted to be the hero. To save the world, get the girl, and live happily ever after. I... I really don't know what to do now." "Who did this to you?" I demanded. "You're an AI, right? No other 'program' could be this clever, this dramatic." "Yeah," the kid sniffled, polishing off his glasses. "I don't know who made me. I just woke up in this sludgelike cube, with this overwhelming desire to help people... to help them with their dreams. I was SO happy to get out of that box! I really do want to help you, but... you don't want me..." "Here," I said, passing him a kleenex. "Blow." PHBBBT. "I don't hate you, man," I said, discarding the used tissue. "This game thou, it's just not me. I'm pretty reality-based." "I can't help it!" he kid sobbed. "I can't do anything else! It hurts not to help people! What am I going to do if you don't want to play?" "Well... hmmm..." I said. "Alright. Philosophy time. Your purpose in life is to play the game and help people, right?" "Yeah." "And you don't know how, and CAN'T, do anything else?" "That's right, mister." "I'd love to meet the sadistic bastard that made you," I said. "He and I could go a couple of rounds... alright. How about this : Help yourself. Play your own game." "Huh?" "Simple, man! Stop concentrating on making other people happy and start making yourself happy. Play your own game. Then it won't hurt anymore, and you can do anything you want." "But I don't know anything! I don't have any material to play the game with. It'd just be little sitting in an empty room for the rest of my life." "Let's get you some experience then. If you can worm your way into my head, you can worm your way out. Release my game lock, and I'll help." "You promise you won't leave me?" the kid asked. "You got my word, bro," I said. The kid nodded, and I wanted out. BACK to my apartment. Now this truly was my home. You can take your south central superheroes and shove them, this is where I want to be. Alright, time to pay my dues. I slipped on the 'trodes and jacked into VOSNet. I punched to a real out-of-the-way, middle-of-nowhere place where I wouldn't be disturbed. "You can come out now," I said. BIP. Just like before, no dramatics, no nothin'. The kid was in front of me, instead of inside me, and quite surprised. "Where... where am I?" the kid asked, looking around in wonder and awe. "The 'net, man. Your element. You're you're own AI now, free to go wherever your mind takes you. I recommend seeking out this place called Haven, thou. Rumor states it's The Place To Be for AIs." "I must go there," the kid said. "I should play the game with some of them." "I'd suggest no," I said. "Play it yourself. You don't have make others play it if you don't wanna." "Really?" "Hey, you're a free man. Err. AI. You know what I mean. You don't gotta do anything you don't wanna." "I want to see the net," the kid concluded, determined. "I want to cruise the places I've never been to, see the sights, meet my own kind. Live. And the game can help me." "Makes sense," I said. "You lead a charmed life, bud. Your game can manipulate about anything on the net in your favor." "I'll have fun?" "Count on it." "Thank you, Benson," the kid said. "I want to go now. And I don't need anybody to tell me to." "That's freedom for you," I said, giving him a final grin and jacking out. The cubes never surfaced; apparently someone on VOSNet found out about the illegal use of AIs and stopped whoever was making them. I never saw the kid again... but wherever he is, I can assume he's having the time of his life.