The Virtual Dead

by E. R. Mason

Cassiopia Cassell sat stiffly in the uncomfortable, armless, wooden chair. Her blue denim skirt was hiked high above the knee by the nylon rope binding her to the seat. The duct tape on her mouth was pinching, and her bare arms burned from the tightness of the line. Tel stood quietly alongside, unable to understand without additional input.

  The bland, white room was very large and very clean. She was in a small alcove adjoining it. To her right a black, electronics console sat against one wall, looking like something that might have been stolen from a NASA launch complex. On her left, a short, stubby man with bushy brown hair sat with his chair tilted back against the wall, reading a battered paperback. He paid little attention and seemed completely unaffected by her discomfort.

  She twisted in her seat, unable to move more than a few inches. She was thirsty, and her eyes had bags under them from lack of sleep. The sound of elevator doors opening behind her momentarily distracted her from the unpleasantness. The guard lowered his book and became alert and postured.

  “Sir, no problems here. Everything’s just fine.”

  A man in his late twenties, wearing an expensive-looking dark suit came around and into view on her left. He was well groomed and walked with a silver cane. His dark hair was unparted, slightly long, and very straight. The features of his face were soft, as though he’d never suffered a day in his life.

  He pulled a flat-topped stool around from behind and sat directly in front of Cassiopia, taking a moment to admire the glistening hulk of the robot. He spoke with an artificially-affectionate tone that suggested impatience. “Ms. Cassell, my sincere apologies for your sudden inconvenience. I’m here to explain why you and your friend have been made my guests. Actually, you were to arrive here several days ago, but a pair of idiot brothers named Spungin almost blew the entire affair. I had to send professionals more suited to the task to correct the situation. Let’s start with the tape, shall we? I propose to remove it from your mouth. Screaming, or calling out for help would be completely useless. I own this building. It is located in the middle of an industrial complex. There is no one who could hear you, so the effort would be just wasted. A mere unpleasantry if you would. Do you understand?”

  Cassiopia nodded reluctantly. The man reached out one hand and carefully peeled away the silver tape. He turned to his very attentive servant. “Max, get some water for our guest, please.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Leeds.”

  “Ms. Cassell, my name is Paul Leeds. I intend you no harm. Everything I need from you, I will get without force. If you cooperate and follow my instructions, you will lose nothing more than a small amount of your time, and we will all get through this just fine. Are you with me so far?”

  Cassiopia squinted angrily but made no reply.

  “What I really require is your robotic playmate here, but I need your help to use it. I’ve been placed in a somewhat awkward position. It’s my knee actually.” Leed’s voice became remorseful as Max returned with a clear glass of water. It was held out for her to drink, and she did so without altering her expression of anger.

  “Have you ever heard of a group called the Dragon Masters, Ms. Cassell?”

  Cassiopia refused to answer.

  “No? I didn’t expect so. They make up a unique club, of sorts. A very serious club. And since you’ve never heard of them, then I suppose you’ve also never seen one of these.”

  With that, he leaned behind her and dragged a large silver case forward. He opened it and drew out the most alien-looking body suit she had ever seen. Smiling, he held it up for her to examine.

  Her eyes widened with intrigue. She quickly recognized the complexity of the device draped in front of her. She lost touch with her anger for the moment and became engrossed in the story that was unfolding.

  “This suit will take you to one hundred different worlds without ever leaving this room, Ms. Cassell. I was one of the few fortunate enough to gain access to one. As I’ve said, it’s a matter of some seriousness, however, because you can die in one of these very easily. They are catalysts for wealth and combat, an adventurer’s greatest dream. I was doing quite well actually. The only real mistake I made was initially allowing the selection process to time out and default me to the Aurora City. I should have chosen a place more directly suited to my specific abilities. I was a triathlon champion, by the way. You see there is a certain undefined treasure involved at the end of any particular contest, something that is said to be priceless. I was close to it, very close, nearly at the end of the third level. I was in mortal combat with a quite hideous beast and had not realized that this particular breed traveled in pairs. Apparently, the first one distracts you while the second strikes from your blind side. I had nearly disposed of the first one when the second clamped down on my knee, crushing it. I had only a broadsword, of course, but even then I cut it thoroughly and manage to escape. It had driven me all the way back to the second level however, which is where I was forced to eject from the game. But I survived in any case, though my knee did not fare as well. Unfortunately, I have no chance of reentering the contest as I am now.”

  Leeds paused to silently console himself. Cassiopia stared at the crumpled suit as he dropped it back into its case. Quickly, his gaze returned to her. “I’ve had some time now to study the suit quite thoroughly, Ms. Cassell, with the help of a very knowledgeable associate. I believe the suit is far beyond any present-day technology. I believe it to be alien. I have no idea who’s operating the game, or where they come from, but I’m certain that the treasure that is given to a player who beats the system is beyond comprehension. I must have it, and I will not rest until I do. And that, my dear, is where you and your robot will assist me.”

  Cassiopia’s anger flared. “You’re insane. You’re nothing but a criminal. I won’t do anything for you. My father has probably already informed the police, and they’re looking for us right now.”

  Leeds sighed, managing to contain his short temper. “No...no, I’m afraid not, my dear. Your father is at this moment locked away in his own basement. If you cooperate with us he will be released unharmed, until then, there he will remain. What I require will only take a day or two of your time. That’s all I ask.”

  Cassiopia narrowed her stare. “What is it you want?”

  “As I’ve said, I am unable to continue in the Sensesuit. Only the most skilled individuals tend to survive them. I need someone who is infallible to take my place. The suit really does not care whom. This one will always assume it is I who is using it. I need a Superman to take my place, someone like your TEL for instance.”

  Leeds waited to allow his statement to sink in. “Of course, the suit was not intended to accommodate something as large and bulky as your mechanical friend, but surprisingly enough we were able to adapt. Somehow I think the game operators were unaware of the diagnostic units included in the case. I doubt they would knowingly have allowed players access to them. I found mine purely by coincidence when I kicked it in anger and the foam packing fell out onto the floor. By acquiring the help of someone skilled in robotics and computers, it became possible to develop that interface console you see here on your right. As a matter of fact, I believe you know the gentleman I’m speaking of. He’s a former associate of yours.”

  With that, a third figure emerged from behind Cassiopia. She immediately recognized the familiar, dark-haired man whose beard stubble was always so thick it made him looked poorly groomed. He wore a white lab smock and smiled crookedly as he returned her seething stare.

  “Cox! I should have guessed.”

  “Nice to see you again, Cassiopia. How’s the Professor these days? Still a shut-in? Nice TEL you have there. Tell me, how have the tactile sensors been holding up? They were largely my design if you remember.”

  “I thought you’d still be in prison.”

  “Early release. With Mr. Leed’s help, it surprised even me how quickly I got out. Maybe they thought I got a bad deal, eh?”

  “For corporate espionage with a foreign government? You
sold out the TEL Corporation, and you sold out your own country. They should have kept you in there forever.”

  “Screw that, babe. I was treated like crap. I was passed over at every turn. Others took credit for nearly everything I did. It was bullshit.”

  Leeds’s temper grew marginal. “Ladies, gentleman, ...please! Let us get back to matters at hand.” He waited for a tentative calm and resumed. “As I was saying, Ms. Cassell, with Mr. Cox’s very capable help and his knowledge of TEL robotics, we were able to develop a system in which the robot can be the primary participant in the game. By extracting and modifying the necessary signals, we can feed them to the robot in such a way that it will see and hear everything that the player normally would. The robot’s actions are in turn fed back into the system to make it appear as though the person wearing the suit is playing the game. That person will, in fact, be sitting idly in the very chair you now occupy. The truth is we don’t understand how it all works, but fortunately experimentation paid off.”

  Cassiopia’s emotions bounced back and forth between anger and fascination. She stared back at her captors with disgust. “So why have you brought me here, when you only needed the robot?”

  “Not true, Cass,” offered Cox. “You well know the versatility of the TEL when it comes to microprocessor and software adaptability. With your help, we can adapt this particular TEL to the task much more quickly.”

  “I wouldn’t help you if my life depended on it.”

  Cox looked to Leeds with a raised eyebrow. Leeds smiled and resumed the role of moderator. “Funny you should mention that, Ms. Cassell, because actually your life will depend on it. You see, though the suit will remain idle, it must have a wearer, and whoever is relegated that role will suffer the pain and injury a normal player would. If the robot fails to block a strike, for example, whoever is wearing the suit will take it. So what better way to ensure the robot will do its utmost to succeed, than to have you in the Sensesuit when it is happening, my dear.”

  Cassiopia glared at them. “I won’t put it on. I won’t....”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, now, now, Ms. Cassell. I must warn you. The suit is intended to be worn with nothing underneath. If you refuse to step into the next room to put it on, we three will be forced to put it on you, and from the looks of your most elegant figure, I dare say that would probably be a very pleasant, and most likely drawn-out affair.”

  Cassiopia looked away, realizing the plan had been all too carefully prepared. She stared out over the large empty room and wondered how in so short a time her life could have become so casually and hopelessly invaded. If only Scott Markman knew what was happening.

  Chapter 22