Entries by Johnny Elbows

Tommy counted three pennies into the driver's hand. There, now his tip was exactly twenty percent. He stepped out of the taxi and hurried through the downpour into the dimness of The Cedars restaurant.

"Welcome, Dr Xiang. Your usual table?"

"Yes, please."

"Can I get you anything?

"Yes, Ahmed. Could you get me something to wash my hands with?"

"Right this way." Tommy settled into the soft cushions on one side of the low table. He took the small holoprojector from his pocket, and set it on the table. Hearing a soft step he looked up. Ahmed bent in a half bow, and set a small basin of water and a towel on the table.

"Thank you." Ahmed retreated. Tommy gazed down at his hands. Her blood was still there, he knew. Dried now, but still there. He dipped his hands into the water, stifling the urge to gasp as the lemon-scented water penetrated the deep splits along his knuckles.

"Sir?" Ahmed hovered near the end of the table. "There's a guest here. He says he's supposed to be meeting you."

Tommy smiled. "Show him in."
Continue reading "Tommy Xiang"

One of the elephants trumpeted; its call drifted up to me on the hot, heavy air, and disturbed my reverie. Things used to be so simple, I thought, and then smiled, a sad half smile. Listen to me. I sound like an old man. They were though. Simple, I mean. Everything used to be so much simpler. Why did she have to go and do that?

I heard something rustle in the grass. Turning, I saw her. "Hey." My voice seemed to come from an empty place deep inside of me. I turned back to watching the elephants. I don't know what makes the environments different. In real life, you couldn't drag me outside to sit in the sun. Here, though, it was different. Here, sitting in the sun and watching the animals seemed to be the best way to find peace. And I needed that.

She sat down beside me, gesturing toward the savannah "It's amazing." Her voice sounded a little bit sad.

I didn't reply. Here I was, sitting beside the most beautiful woman I'd ever met, listening as she talked to me, and all I wanted, the thing that I wanted more than anything, was for her to go away. Why did she do it? Things were so much simpler before, before THAT. Before THAT, I could pretend. Pretend. That's all my life was. I pretended about Lauren, I pretended about this girl, and when things went badly, I retreated into my pretend worlds to lick my wounds and pretend some more.

Her hand appeared in front of me, pointing toward the elephants. "Did you make the elephants?"

"Yeah." My voice sounded tired, listless. I knew that I would regret this later, staying in the environments so long. I knew that I would be tortured with splitting headaches, and that I'd have to take some of the pills that Brain_Stem had given me after he had put in my implant, but I couldn't face the real world. Not right now. I reached up to feel the rough edges of my implant, and was shocked when I felt nothing but smooth skin. It took me a moment to realize that I didn't have an implant, not inside of the environments anyway.

Continue reading "Macon Craig"

Wow. One more time. Wow. That is one girl I could look at all day long. She's . . . yeah, well there's nothing to complain about there. But remember the D's. Don't think it's real from a distance, in the dark, in a dress, or when you're drunk

Closer now, though, and she still looks good. And she talks, too, look at that.

"Hey, how's it going? I think this the first time I've seen you without a gun." My voice sounds a little bit weird

I like her better when she's not threatening me.

Whoa! Hold on! I think this is the first time I've seen her without THAT, too. And everything there's definitely all real. No distance here, and no darkness either. I feel a little drunk, but I'm sure I'm not, and well, there's definitely no dress. What's going on here? Umm. Wow. Lala really wouldn't be too happy if she saw this. I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding. OH!

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

You idiot. You looked! What were you thinking? DON'T TOUCH!

What's wrong? she asks! Why am I nervous? she says! What's the problem? Well isn't that obvious? This isn't supposed to be happening. Lala would kill me if she knew.

"Look, I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend named Lala. And you're not her."

Continue reading "Howell Clarke"

Don't you hate it when someone pulls you away from something that you want to do, and makes you work on something you should do? I do. It drives me nuts, especially when he uses a guilt trip to do it. I hate guilt trips. Hate them, hate them, hate them.

I was working on a model of a wooly mammoth. I've always wanted to hunt one, just to see what it would be like. The musculature was giving me a little bit of trouble. I based it on an an African elephant. Most everything worked, but there were a few small things that were giving me headaches. I was working on the skeleton, testing to see if everything would work better on a skeleton that was more similar to an Asian Elephant, when Brain_Stem messaged me.

Brain_Stem[15:04]: I need a favor.

Fair_Weather_Friend[15:06]: And I need a girlfriend. Too bad we don't always get what we need.

Brain_Stem[15:06]: No, I'm serious. I'm sending you an image. I need you to build a realistic body based on that image, and send me the animation file for it by 4:00 tomorrow afternoon.

Fair_Weather_Friend[15:07]: Keep dreaming. Do you know how hard it is to build a body based on an image?

Brain_Stem[15:07]: Look, I'll send you a signed doctor's note to get out of school. This is important.

Fair_Weather_Friend[15:08]: LOL What makes you think I need a doctor's note to get out of school? I skip all the time without one.

Brain_Stem[15:08]: Is there anything I can do to convince you to do it for me?

Continue reading "Macon Craig"

"We've tried everything. They started out just using interferons. That didn't have much effect, and as things progressed, they tried treating it with steroids, anticonvulsants, and antidepressants. We even tried plasma exchange. That worked better, but just for a little while. I'm here because I want you to give my son his life back. I don't want him to spend his entire life on injections and IVs."

"I can't do that."

The man slumped. "Dr. Truman said that you had a revolutionary treatment. Something that could . . ."

"Mr. Swenson." He looked up. "My treatment does not actually do anything for the disease. My treatment sends the patient to a new world, a world where he can live without pain and without drugs."

He flushed angrily. "Assisted suicide," he sneered. "You're just a killer in a clean white coat." He pushed himself to his feet and strode toward the door.

Tommy didn't move. "Mr. Swenson, please sit down. I don't believe in killing any more than you do. Please listen to what I have to say."

One hand on the door knob, the man turned. "Once more. What are you offering?"

"Mr. Swenson, I can offer your son an escape, that's all. It won't be permanent. He will only be able to use it for a few hours each day. Some day, we may be able to extend that, but for now, it's just a few hours a day. But during those few hours, he will be symptom free. If you choose, you can be with him. For a little while, you will be able to see what life might have been without this monster in it."

He turned to face Tommy. "What are you offering?"

Tommy swallowed. "I have to tell you. What I am offering you is not legal. This is not a clinical trial. If you join me, you may become a fugitive. If you are still interested," Tommy extended a card. "I will be in this restaurant tomorrow night at 7:00. Have a good day, Mr. Swenson." With that, Tommy stood.

Night_Watcher[15:03]: Yeah, I think 1500 gallons should be enough. For now at least. We won't need as much as normal people, since we'll be basically inactive.

Cave_Man[15:03]: Then we're nearly ready. Electricity, water, sewer and garbage are taken care of. We have food storage facilities, but we're only halfway there as far as food goes.

Night_Watcher[15:04]: Ok. I'll lean on Lovely_Lips. We're what, about $75,000 short on fundraising? I'll bug her about it.

Fair_Weather_Friend[15:04]: Hey, long time no see.

Cave_Man[15:04]: Yeah, that sounds right.

Night_Watcher[15:04]: Why aren't you in school?

Cave_Man[15:05]: See you later.

Night_Watcher[15:05]: Tonight.

Fair_Weather_Friend[15:05]: You're just like my mom.

Night_Watcher[15:06]: I hope your mom doesn't look like me :)

Continue reading "Howell Clarke"

Tommy signed off, and looked around his office, sighing in frustration. New development. Shadows. That's not what we need, he thought. We don't need to add little details to the old engine, we need a new engine. And we need it now.

He looked up at the black balloons that bobbed in the air conditioning currents near the ceiling of his office. It was a tasteless tradition, he thought, tasteless at its best. I only have one year left, and still I can't make them feel any urgency. He had tried to push Night_Watcher and Fair_Weather to hurry, but Night_Watcher was half his age, and Fair_Weather was even younger. To them, SDS was a rumor, a far-off something that they would have to worry about someday. Tommy sighed again. There were legends of people who lived long past their fortieth birthdays, but they were just that--legends.

Sometimes, when he was really feeling his age, Tommy would tell Night_Watcher, "You've got to hurry. I've only got one year left."

Night_Watcher's stock reply was disheartening. "If you're such a genius, why don' t you find a cure for SDS?"

He wished he could. He wished that someone could. But no one knew why it happened. If you lived to be forty years of age, you would die two days after your fortieth birthday. It happened to everyone, without fail. The sick, the healthy, everyone. Hundreds of doctors had spent their lives researching it, but as soon as they seemed to be making progress, they, along with their entire research team, would die suddenly and inexplicably. It was as if someone had decreed that no one would live to see his forty-first birthday.

Tommy stood. He knew what was waiting outside his office door, and though he didn't want to face it, he knew he had to.

He pulled the door open. Black streamers hung from the ceiling like a curtain. Fifteen people stood around his door, silly grins on their faces, and black crepe ribbons on their arms. Each held a small cardboard coffin with a gift inside.

Continue reading "Tommy Xiang"

Yes, I know. I'm weak. After my "heroic" rescue, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about the time I was spending in the environments. I swore to myself that I'd never go back. Truth be told, I was more than a little bit scared to go back. I've never felt anything like the pain that knocked me down when that little piece of static hit me. What might happen if somehow, I got hit by a big piece.

But like they say, time heals all wounds. It took a while, but eventually, I'd come home from school after a bad day, and while I brooded about it, I'd find myself running fingers over the rough surface of the HESII on the back of my head, and thinking about going back in. I entertained myself by creating some incredible environments. I enlarged the forest environment, making it nearly as large and detailed as the city environment. I even got around to teaching myself how to make AI entities. Night_Watcher wrote me a paper on how to create AI entities from my body models quite a while ago, but I never bothered to actually do anything with it. I made a bunch of entities, all kinds of exotic animals that I could stalk in the forests, new soldiers for the cityscapes, and some that were just supposed to be regular people. But I never uploaded any of them. I kept swearing to myself that I'd never go back.

I'm weak. What can I say? I was walking down the hall at school, and I saw Lauren making out with Jeff Francis. Now, don't get me wrong. I know what I look like. I know that I'm fat. I know that I don't have many friends. I know that when people make their list of who they want to invite to their parties, I'm not usually on the list. I know that the only way I'll ever end up with a girl like Lauren is if I win the lottery and learn to walk on water in the same day. But that doesn't keep me from dreaming, and hoping that someday she'll notice that I exist. One of the things that gave me more hope than anything else was the fact that she seemed really aloof from the whole dating scene. I told myself that she was waiting for some guy to really prove that he was something special before she would go out with him. I told myself that someday, I'd do something spectacular, and she'd finally come down out of her tower. I guess that was just another one of my delusions. All Jeff had to do was look at her, flash his flawless smile, and she was his. SPECTACULAR!

I didn't even think about it. I walked out of school, the first time I'd done that in weeks, and went straight home. My parents were both gone. They usually are. I uploaded all of my new stuff, checked the files twice, and disappeared into a world where I was king.

Continue reading "Macon Craig"

Bored. Bored, bored bored. Nothing to do anymore. I need a new project. I suppose I could work on a new engine for the environments, but nobody uses them any more. I wonder what Macon does with his spare time now. He probably goes to school. Should have been doing that anyway. Someday I ought to finish . . . Hey, Brain_Stem's back!

Night_Watcher[22:12]: Dude, you're back! How's it going?

Brain_Stem[22:12]: Yes, I just got back. I'd like to discuss some things with you.

So much for pleasantries

Night_Watcher[22:13]: What's up?

Brain_Stem[22:13]: Have you been working on new development?

No need to tell HIM that I've been sitting on my hands for the last month. Or was it two?

Night_Watcher[22:13]: No. I've been really busy with some contract work. Gotta keep food on the table, you know?

Brain_Stem[22:14]: So, are you in a position now where you can restart development?

Why are we doing this? Is it really worth it? I mean, I have all the anonymity I need most of the time. Before long, things will be big enough that we won't have to hide in the shadows. We'll actually be able to make a difference.

Continue reading "Howell Clarke"

Blue crests raised themselves from the water and toppled over with a crash, sending fingers of foam snaking across the soft sand, only to retreat moments later. Gulls called as they circled above the breakers, and every now and then, Tommy heard a child's yell. He reclined on his balcony, high above it all, staring into the deep blue sky, thinking about--nothing. It was a blessed relief.

After enduring several days of accusing faces, after spending countless hours trying to scrub her blood from his hands, Tommy had taken a leave of absence. Now, he reclined on a white chair, on a white balcony, in a white hotel, above a white sand beach. His thoughts were finally blank. It had taken him several weeks, but he had finally convinced his conscience to release him from his guilt. She was not real. She could not die, because she was never alive. True, he would have killed her even if she had been real, but that would change. He would not make the same mistake again. The environments were not games.

One more day, and he would be going back. The first order of business? Convince Howell to restart development. The environments were no use to him until they were more real. Once Howell managed to fix a few flaws, Tommy's patients would be able to spend days at a time in the environments. They would be able to leave behind the limitations and pain-wracked bodies, and they would find a place where they could be what they had once been, instead of what they were.

That was another thing. He would have to talk to Macon. No more of these impossible bodies. He would need to produce some bodies that looked realistic. He didn't think that his female patients wanted to walk around with breasts the size of watermelons, and waists the size of pencils. And even though his male patients might enjoy walking around in bodies that made Arnold Schwarzenneger look underdeveloped and weak, Tommy didn't think that would be very good for them.

Continue reading "Tommy Xiang"

My silence bought me five weeks of peace. The "anonymous donation" that I received was quite a large one. I didn't just rent an apartment. I bought a condominium near campus, and furnished it with nice, though not extravagant furniture. Every day, when I walked through the door, I looked around at the clean, quiet living room that was, all by itself, larger than my entire dorm room had been. But I guess every honeymoon has to end.

I pushed through the door, and immediately noticed that something was wrong. Two men, the detective from the federal police, and another man who could almost have been his twin, were sitting on my couch. They watched me attentively as I entered.

The detective spoke before I had a chance. "I didn't believe that it was necessary to tell you to keep things quiet."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Usually, when we speak of hidden cameras, we mean that we want our cameras to be hidden from the people that we're observing. I was under the impression that you would understand the implicit meaning of hidden in the phrase 'hidden camera'. Obviously, I was mistaken."

"I'm confused. Whatever it is that you're saying, could you say it to me in plain English?"

"In plain English. Yes, you probably used plain English. You probably said something like 'Don't look now, Howell, but there's a camera hidden in your room. The feds are watching you, so you should stay out of your virtual worlds for a while.' Is that how it went?"

"You think I told him?" Continue reading "Keb Jones"

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:22]: Something weird happened today.

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:22]: I went to the movies with some friends.

Night_Watcher[11:23]: Yeah, that is weird. You have friends?

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:23]: You may not think I have a social life, but I actually do. It's not much, but it's better than yours.

Night_Watcher[11:24]: I'll have you know that I have a girlfriend.

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:24]: Inflatables don't count.

Night_Watcher[11:24]: Ouch. No, I really do have a girlfriend.

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:24]: Yeah, and I really do have wings on my heels like Mercury.

Night_Watcher[11:25]: Fine, you don't have to believe me. But you were telling me about something weird.

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:25]: Ok, so, you know how we thought that the girl was dead?

Night_Watcher[11:25]: Yeah

Fair_Weather_Friend[11:26]: Here's the weird thing. I don't think she's dead at all. I think that I saw her at the movie theater tonight.

Continue reading "Howell Clarke"

Tommy didn't have a problem with blood. He was a doctor. Blood was part of his work, part of his life. But this blood was different. This blood didn't come off. No matter how many times he washed his hands, it was always there, somehow sticky and warm, and cold and slippery at once.

He dried his hands, and began dressing himself. He glanced in the mirror to make sure that he hadn't gotten any blood on his clothes, and washed his hands again. In his mind, he saw the look on her face, the way her eyes had opened wide in suprise when the first bullet had ripped through her. He shook his head, and walked out of the bathroom.

"It wasn't real. She's just a computer simulation. It wasn't real."

He poured soy milk over his shredded wheat, turned on the weather report, and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"But when does real become real? How are your actions in a simulated environment different from your actions in a real environment?"

He tried to concentrate on the weather report, but the argument in his head was too loud.

"She wasn't human. She was just a clever simulation--a series of 1's and 0's shaped like a girl."

"So, that's not real blood on your hands, is it? It's just a clever simulation--a series of 1's and 0's that feels like blood."

Tommy shuddered. He hurried over to the sink and began washing his hands, turning the water as hot as he could stand it.

Continue reading "Tommy Xiang"

I wasn't sure what to expect when Night_Watcher told me that there was something that I needed to see in THE city environment. I didn't particularly want to go back there. It was one of my best levels, but somehow, with every step, I felt like another flaw was going to appear and leave me on the ground, tortured and beaten.

Fair_Weather_Friend[19:01]: You know, I'm sure that whatever you want to show me is really great, but I'm going out with some friends tonight.

Night_Watcher[19:02]: Liar

Fair_Weather_Friend[19:02]: I don't want to go in there. Can't you just tell me about it?

Night_Watcher[19:02]: Nope. You need to see it.

Fair_Weather_Friend[19:03]: What is it? What's so important?

Night_Watcher[19:03]: You'll see.

Fair_Weather_Friend[19:03]: I hate you.

Ten minutes later, I found myself back in the city. Night_Watcher didn't even greet me. He just started walking hurriedly toward the river, gesturing for me to follow. Continue reading "Macon Craig"

Brain_Stem[17:45]: I killed her

Brain_Stem[17:45]: she was just there, and i didnt ecxpet her, and I shot her and she died

Brain_Stem[17:45]: she died.

Brain_Stem[17:46]: her blood was on my hands

Brain_Stem[17:46]: I killed her.

Night_Watcher[17:46]: Who? Who did you kill? What are you talking about?

Brain_Stem[17:47]: She's dead. I killed Fair_Weather's girl. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I felt her heart stop.

OK. Now what am I supposed to do with this? He killed her? What does that mean? Who is she? What was she doing? And why didn't the program treat her like a normal person when she died? Why did it let her bleed to death, instead of just placing her in observer mode? I've got to check the logs.

Night_Watcher[17:49]: When did you kill her?

Brain_Stem[17:49]: She's dead. I shot her.

Continue reading "Howell Clarke"