Virtually Dead

by Peter May

  Chas felt unaccountably annoyed. As if he had somehow been manipulated against his will, subjected to scrutiny, tried, tested and judged.

  Chas: I suppose I should feel privileged then.

  Angel: Yes, Chas, you should. You are already proving yourself stronger than your RL counterpart.

  Chas realised that there was some truth in that. Not stronger, necessarily, but more confident. More like the man he had been before Mora’s death. As if Chas was the part of himself that had died with her, and his ghost was in some way being resurrected here in Second Life, as in some virtual afterlife. It was a confusing and unsettling thought. After all, who would he be when he logged out again? Michael or Chas? Or was it possible that, with time, more and more of Chas would return with him to RL?

  Angel: Come, take a seat. And I will introduce you to the group.

  Chas climbed up on to the stage, where a single, empty seat awaited him. He clicked on it and sat. The others all had their heads turned toward him, watching in silence. There were five of them. He felt very self-conscious.

  Angel: Laffa Minit has been attending our sessions for nearly six months now.

  Laffa Minit made a small bow. She was a furry. A voluptuous female body with a rabbit’s head and red, cupid lips.

  Angel: Laffa has been involved in an extra-marital affair for over a year. She is trying to come to terms with conflicting emotions of guilt and addiction. Guilt, about the betrayal of her husband, and a hopeless psychological addiction to her lover. Unfortunately, the only progress we seem to have made—if we can call it that—is that Laffa now has another lover. In Second Life. Something we were debating before your arrival. But we’ll come back to that.

  Seated next to Laffa was a Goth called Demetrius Smith.

  Angel: Demi also has a problem with addiction. Demi’s addiction is sex, and I’m not so sure it wasn’t a mistake introducing him to Second Life. Rather too many opportunities to indulge that addiction, am I right, Demi?

  Demetrius: LOLOLOL!

  Angel: And then there is Dark. Dark Daley. Dark has troubled, hidden fantasies, that we have still not persuaded him to share with us.

  Chas looked at Dark. Of all the members of the group, he seemed the most normal, a young man with an untidy shock of brown hair. He was bare-chested, with a ring through his left nipple and a tattoo on his right shoulder. He wore baggy black trousers and no shoes.

  Angel: And Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee are twins.

  These were two dumpy, unattractive girls, with pigtails and identical blue pinafore dresses. Their feet didn’t quite touch the floor, and their legs swung free, like bored children.

  Angel: But only in Second Life. In real life they are lesbian lovers, each victims of child abuse at the hands of male relatives.

  Chas shifted uncomfortably. This was clearly a group of very disturbed people, and it disturbed him to think that he was included among them.

  Chas: Hi

  No one replied.

  Angel: So where were we? Ah, yes. The question of betrayal. I think that everyone accepts that by taking an RL lover, Laffa is betraying her husband, and compounding that betrayal by lies and deceit. Now, here is the moral question which has been testing us. Is she commiting the same act of betrayal by taking a lover in SL? Betraying, in fact, not only her husband, but her RL lover as well?

  Dark: How can you betray someone in the real world by humping a cartoon in the virtual one? It’s patently absurd.

  Demetrius: No, it’s not. Betrayal is in the mind. Betrayal of the flesh is only an extension of the mental treachery. So to take an SL lover is just as much of a betrayal as having an illicit partner in RL.

  Dark: Crap!

  Angel: No, it’s an interesting point, Dark. It could be argued that all betrayal begins in the mind. Long before it ever turns to flesh.

  Tweedle Dum: Depends whether you want to call it betrayal, or not. Just because you fall out of love with someone doesn’t mean you’re betraying them. It happens, that’s all.

  Tweedle Dee: Up to a point, maybe. But the betrayal begins, surely, when you start to lie. The betrayal is the deceit.

  Dark: Oh, gimme a fucking break!

  Chas was startled by this sudden lapse from the intellectual to the profane.

  Dark: Take it to a fucking court, for Chrissake! What do you think they’d say? That she’s been commiting adultery with a bunch of electrons on a computer screen? I don’t think so. The fact that she’s fucking some guy in RL, that’s a different story. That’s cheating, plain and simple, and if I knew who the poor husband was I’d fucking tell him.

  Angel: One of Dark’s not so hidden fantasies, Chas, is his desire to one day construct an entire sentence made up only of profanities. What do you think about it, Laffa?

  Laffa: If I could stop crying for a moment, I might tell you.

  Dark: Jesus Christ!

  Tweedle Dum: Oh, grow up, Laffa. If you go around fucking everything on three legs then you gotta expect to field a bit of flak.

  Laffa: Okay, since you’re all so frigging perfect, let me tell you what I think. I think the only reason I’ve taken a lover in SL is because I’m so unhappy in RL. And because my SL lover makes me happy, I am able to carry some of that happiness with with me back into RL. And both my husband and my lover benefit. So they should be grateful.

  Dark: Yeh, like you’re doing them such a favour.

  Laffa: Why do you always have to be so negative? You’re a sarcastic bastard, Dark. Always happy to talk about others. Never about yourself. And your secret fantasies. You’re probably just some perv child molester!

  Chas felt the tension in the group ratchet up another few notches.

  Angel: What do you think, Chas?

  Chas was startled. He had not expected to have to contribute.

  Chas: Er…I don’t know. To be honest, it’s not something I’ve ever given any thought to.

  Demetrius: You don’t have to think about it. You hear an argument. You get a gut feeling. What’s yours?

  Chas: Well, probably I’d be with Angel on this. The first betrayal is always in the mind.

  Tweedle Dee: That is just so much shit. So you’ve got a lover, right? And you’re out on your own somewhere for the night without her. And some chick hits on you. Your hormones kick in, you fuck her. You never see her again. It’s a one-night stand. You never thought about it beforehand, you never think about it again. Means nothing to you. Purely physical. But do you think your lover’s going to see it that way? Will she, hell! Betrayal’s just as much physical as it is mental. It can be one, or the other, or both. It all counts.

  Tweedle Dum: So is that what happened with you and that girl at Twinkle’s?

  Tweedle Dee: What?

  Tweedle Dum: What was her name, Rachel? The one with the implants.

  Tweedle Dum: Aw, for Chrissake, don’t start that again!

  Angel: No, let’s not. I’m not sure that we’ve exhausted the subject, but maybe we should come back to it another time. Chas, why don’t you tell us why you’re here?

  Chas stiffened. Immediately tense, and glad that no one could see his discomfort beyond the screen.

  Chas: I’m here because you asked me to be.

  Dark: LOLOLOL! Good avoidance technique, Chas. Almost as good as mine.

  Angel: Okay, let me kick this off for you. Chas is having difficulty dealing with the death of his wife.

  Demetrius: How long since she died?

  Chas: A little over six months.

  Dark: Oh, for Chrissake, man! Get over it.

  Laffa: Yeh, who’re you grieving for? Her or you?

  Tweedle Dee: People die, Chas. Didn’t you know? Happens to us all someday. Nothing we can do for the ones who’re gone, except get on with the living.

  Chas was startled by the brutality of this response. Angel had always trodden gently around the subject, getting him to explore his feelings, suggesting ways that he might be able to come to terms with his loss.

  Demetri
us: I never did hold with this grieving thing. The death of a loved one is always a shock. But we get over shocks. Personally, I think the Irish have got it right. Hold a wake. Have a party. Celebrate the life that’s gone. Grief, in the end, is nothing more than self-pity.

  There was a long silence then. And Chas felt that all their eyes were on him.

  Angel: Well, Chas. Was that the kind of response you expected?

  Chas: I didn’t know what to expect. Not abuse, certainly.

  Dark: Well, you won’t get much sympathy from this lot. We’ve all got our own problems, bud. And there probably isn’t anyone here who hasn’t lost a loved one. So get your head out of your butt and get on with your life.

  Angel: Okay, okay. I think you’ve made your views clear enough. We have all, at one time or another, had the opportunity to tell our own stories. So next time, we’ll listen to Chas. And he can tell us exactly why he’s having such difficulty coming to terms with his wife’s death.

  But Chas knew there was no way he was going to tell these people anything. Exposing his soul to them would be like throwing meat to a flock of vultures. It was clear that they would simply pick over the remains of his love for Mora without any regard for his feelings or any attempt at understanding them.

  He told Angel as much when the session drew to a close. The others had drifted off, and he was left standing with her in the arena on his own. She shook her head.

  Angel: It’s hard, Chas, I know. But people are like that in SL. Maybe not just SL. Maybe it’s the Internet. People are never face-to-face or eye-to-eye. And somehow they seem to think that frees them from all the usual social obligations of politeness and tact. Look at any of the online forums. Bloody, brutal battlegrounds sometimes, where bile flows freely and people give expression to things they would never say to your face. Here they have their AV’s to hide behind. They are anonymous and say what they like.

  The sun was sinking low in the sky now, and red light fell in long slabs across the arena floor, light reflecting in the large pool of blood, steam still rising like smoke into the evening light. Through the window, Chas saw the sun almost on the horizon, sending yellow diamonds sparkling across the broken surface of the ocean toward them.

  Chas: Maybe that’s true, Angel. But I don’t have to put myself in the firing line.

  Angel: Don’t be so touchy, Chas. The group approach is a very different kind of therapy. You need to let go. Of whatever emotion it is that’s messing with your mind. Whether it be anger, pity, hurt…Let those feelings out. Direct them at others. Because they will direct theirs at you.

  Chas: I noticed.

  Angel: But don’t you see, Chas, it’s a release for everyone. Of all that tension that builds up inside us. It’s all we ever really need. Tension is like pressure contained without any means of escape. If we can’t find a release valve, in the end we will either blow up or implode. And remember, these people don’t know who you are. And you don’t know them. You would pass each other in the street without recognition. So there is no past, no future, only the present, when we are all together in the group. Give it a chance. If you’re still not happy after the third of fourth session, then call it a day. But you’ve come this far. Don’t turn back at the first hurdle.

  Chas noticed a blue banner flashing on and off the foot of his screen. Twist had just come on line. He decided to change the subject and looked around the vast interior of the black metal building. For the first time, he noticed a grilled staircase spiralling up to another level and wondered what was up there.

  Chas: What is this place, Angel?

  Angel: It was owned by a group of graphics programmers, Chas. Used to be a Goth club, I believe. I bought it from them. It was ideal for my purposes. They wrote the scripts for me, for the pools of blood and the claw marks. Pretty realistic, huh?

  Chas: Scarily so, Angel. And I’ve seen some blood in my time.

  Angel: LOL, Chas. So you have.

  A teleport invitation appeared from Twist.

  Chas: I have to go, Angel.

  Angel: You’ll come to the next session?

  Chas sighed.

  Chas: IM me with a day and time, and if I can I’ll be there.

  Angel Catchpole smiles.

  Angel: Good. Well, TC then, Chas.

  Chas: TC?

  Angel: LOL. Take care.

  Chas clicked to accept Twist’s teleport, and in a rush of sound his screen went black.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Chas dropped to the ground, crouching to keep his balance, and then stood up as a grey figure before him rezzed into the grinning Twist. He still hadn’t got used to seeing Janey as a man, with long red and blond hair and a bare chest. He looked around, as a large floor area divided by tall partitions took shape around him. Promos for combat systems and teleporters and object scanners covered the walls.

  Twist: Hiya.

  Chas: Hi. Where are we?

  Twist: The TalTech Weapons store at the Galleria.

  Chas: What are we doing here?

  Twist: I got your IM. About the geckos. LOLOLOLOL. Very SL. Hahahaha. If you’re planning to go to Sandbox Island to talk to Nevar Telling, we need to get you some protection first.

  Chas: I’ve got a gun.

  Twist: Not enough.

  Chas: And a radar system. Doobie made me buy that yesterday.

  Twist: Who’s Doobie?

  Chas could almost feel the jealous aggression in the question.

  Chas: Doobie Littlething. She’s one of the dancers at Sinful Seductions. She was the one that dealt with Tommy Tattoo.

  Twist: And the one you took to dinner?

  Chas: Yeh.

  Twist: Hmmph. Well, you still need more than that. What you really want is a shield and weapons system combined.

  Chas: Do I?

  Twist: Yes, you do. And I’ve found two things here that I think you should buy.

  He turned toward the wall.

  Twist: These two. The Immortals Combat System, and the gKill HUD. They should provide you with protection against just about anything, as well as giving you a whole range of attack options. A blinder, a trap, a trasher and several kill versions. You’ll need to familiarise yourself with it all before you go in the field, though. Don’t want to be fumbling with a menu when someone’s bearing down on you all guns blazing.

  Chas: I’m not sure I like the sound of any of this, Twist. Doobie took me to a beautiful island yesterday, with mountains and trees and waterfalls. Not a weapons system in sight.

  Twist: Yeh, well, just like the real world, Chas, SL has many sides to it. But if you want to go to Sandbox Island you need to be prepared. Just like when you have sex for the first time, it’ll be helpful if you have a dick.

  Chas looked at the weapons systems that Twist wanted him to buy. The gKill HUD claimed that it would break through shields and attack a target from anywhere on the grid until told to stop. The Immortals Combat System allowed you to deform avatars with a trasher. He sighed.

  Chas: How much for all this?

  Twist: A grand total of twelve hundred and fifty. Cheap at the price.

  Chas: I don’t have that much Twist. I haven’t had a chance to set up a credit card yet.

  Twist: How much you got, then?

  Chas glanced at his green Lindens total and frowned. And kept staring at it for a full fifteen, maybe twenty seconds.

  Twist: Well?

  Chas: There must be some mistake.

  Twist: How much?

  Chas: According to this I have 780 million Lindens.

  Twist: Hahahaha. Yeh, right. Must be a screw-up with the server. That would be around three million dollars. You don’t have three million dollars, do you, Chas?

  Chas: No, I do not.

  Twist: Hey, I thought you were rich.

  Chas: If I was rich, I wouldn’t be back at work having to put up with people like you.

  Twist: Hahaha. So what happened to all Mora’s money?

  Chas: Gone, most of it, Twist. And
Mora’s first husband’s family look like getting most of the balance. The house is worth a few million, but there’s a home loan on it that I can’t pay, and the bank’s foreclosing. So chances are I’m going to walk away without a penny.

  Twist: Shit, Chas, that’s rough. And there was me thinking I could seduce you and marry into a fortune. But, hey, maybe I still can if you’ve got three million in your SL account.

  Chas: How is that possible, Twist?

  Twist: It’s not. It’ll be a phantom figure, Chas. A glitch. It’ll probably be gone when you relog.

  Chas: Well, I know that at least 500 of it’s mine. From the geckos.

  Twist: So get the gKill HUD and we’ll come back for the Immortals another time.

  Chas paid for the weapons system, and the SL cash register rang up the expenditure. Almost at the same moment, an IM came in from Doobie.

  Doobie: I found out a bit about your murder victim, Chas. Well, about his AV anyway.

  Chas: Great, Doobs. What did you learn?

  Doobie: Well, I learned that this guy was a bigshot dealer in SL land sales. Virtual Realty was his Group. Massive turnover in the purchase and sale of offshore sims.

  Chas: Sims?

  Doobie: Short for simulators. A sim is just a parcel of virtual land. People buy and sell property here, and some of them make a fortune.

  Chas: Wow!

  Doobie: But there’s more. He owned property himself, Chas. A tropical island called Pitaya in a group of islands known as the Fruit Islands. Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. He’d just built a house on the island. A stunning asian home. I’m there right now.

  A pause.

  Doobie: Chas?

  Chas: Yeh?

  Doobie: This guy was murdered in real life, yes?

  Chas Chesnokov nods

  Doobie: How was he killed?

  Chas: Shot three times in the chest

  There was a long silence.

  Chas: Doobie, are you still there?

  Doobie: He was killed the same way in SL, Chas.

  Chas frowned.

  Chas: I don’t understand.

  Doobie: Someone shot his AV three times in the chest at the house here in Pitaya.