The Cybergypsies
Page 23
‘In Goldfinger, didn’t the actress die?’
‘Goldfinger wasn’t the first film where someone was killed by being painted gold,’ says the third. ‘There was a boy who got gilded in this Boris Karloff movie called Bedlam.’
‘Gelded?’ This sets them off giggling.
Sadhu brings the director, Aitan, to take a look at me. Aitan has an architect-designed and carefully gelled quiff. He turns out to be a cyberpunk fan. We agree that Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash is the finest cyberpunk story yet written, better than Neuromancer. Aitan starts to describe the present project, which is called Burn:Cycle.
‘There’s this cyber-thief, Sol Cutter. He hooks into the net and then uploads his mind into the high-security data banks of this massive, unpleasant corporation.’
‘I know the sort of thing.’
‘Unfortunately for Sol, he triggers an alarm and his brain becomes infected with a deadly virus . . .’
‘Computer virus or biological?’ I ask.
‘What’s the difference, he’s a virtual being . . . So Sol has two hours to solve the problem before his brain fries. While frantically searching the cyberverse for an antidote he falls through a time-warp into this endless plain, where he sees, floating in mid-air . . .’
‘I think I know the rest.’
Headlong
While walking in Hyde Park with your nose buried in a book, you trip over a tree-root but somehow miss the ground. You are falling through darkness towards an open space in the middle of which is a lamppost around whose base ornate fishes writhe. It is daubed with graffiti reading: ‘REALITY CHECKPOINT. A small sign taped to the post advises, ‘Temporarily out of order. The archons of the Vortex apologise for any reality failures.’
>Reality Checkpoint
>You are at the Reality Checkpoint. A meteor streaks across the night sky and in a blaze of light an angel tossed from heaven lands in front of you. The fallen angel says ‘Ouf’, takes a ledger from under a singed wing and says ‘Please sign in.’
>Type LOGIN, HELP or QUIT.
>login; bear; *********
>Welcome to the Vortex, Bear.
>Lilith the Genuine Original Woman is here.
>Quizalmix the Queen of Heaven is here.
>Babaloth the Queen of Hell is here.
>The vestibule.
>Lilith the Genuine Original Woman is here.
>Lilith smiles in welcome.
>Bear says ‘aha!’
>Lilith tells you, ‘I’ll sign you into Pompey’s. Follow me.’
>Lilith the Genuine Original Woman wanders out.
>follow Lilith
>n
>You step into a silver mist, intrigued by the way parts of your body dissolve to nothingness. There is a disorientating wrench as if you had been moved a great distance, although only a single step brings you to ...
>Madame Pompadora’s.
>u
>Pompadora’s Night Salon.
>Lilith the Genuine Original Woman is here.
>Bear gives Lilith a friendly hug.
>Lilith smiles happily and waves to you.
>Lilith says, ‘Being here is an indication that ... we are busy.’
>examine Lilith
>Lilith’s dark hair falls in a shining curtain over her slim shoulders. Brown eyes, almond shaped, long lashed. She wears a blue kaftan and has a wrought silver bracelet on her wrist. Her feet are bare.
>Lilith says, ‘Baba’s here but don’t worry. She will leave us alone because you are with me. They handle me with kid gloves because I screw Raz and anyway she’s busy with Quizalmix.’
>Lilith gives a little chuckle.
>Lilith says, ‘Now then, Bear, is this the first time you have visited this room?’
>Bear asks Lilith, ‘Um, who is Raz?’
>look
>Pompadora’s Night Salon.
>You are in a large oval room, with comfortable reclining couches. In a nook stands a curved bookcase of lemonwood. Examining it you find Stendhal’s ‘On Love’, Ovid’s ‘Ars Amatoria’, Boccaccio’s ‘Decameron’, Richard Burton’s translations of the ‘Kama Sutra’ and ‘The Perfumed Garden’ as well as the works of M. de Sade and other famous erotica. The walls of the room are covered in murals depicting erotic scenes copied from the Villa of the Mysteries at Pompeii. The one oddity is a red leather vaulting horse and a glass bow-fronted cupboard displaying a collection of canes, whips and other instruments. Lilith the Genuine Original Woman is here.
>Lilith says ‘Razagar is her real life husband.’
>Bear is intrigued.
>Lilith says ‘I met Raz the very first time I played. He romanced me, almost married me.’
>Bear says, ‘Do both of them do this computer sex stuff with other people on here?’
>Lilith says, ‘Yes.’
>Lilith says, ‘Raz insisted on trumpeting our affair. He had a big ego tripping scene with me and Baba.’
>Bear says ‘Bizarre.’
>Lilith says, ‘Well ... I keep telling you!’
>Bear says, ‘Yes, so you do. Come on then, show me how it’s done.’
>Lilith says, ‘It is NOT the same as real sex but it’s equally good.’
>Lilith murmurs, ‘One generally starts by undressing.’
>undress
>You fling your clothes in a heap on the floor.
>Lilith examines Bear.
>Bear without clothes looks exactly the same as he does with them.
>Lilith sighs.
>Bear closes his eyes and thinks of England.
>Lilith says, ‘Well at least come to the couch.’
>Lilith leads you to the couch and sits beside you.
>Bear floats to the couch, thinking ‘Cumberland’, ‘Sussex’, ‘Avon’, ‘Northumberland ...’
>Lilith says, ‘Do relax, dear.’
>Bear chuckles in a nervous way.
>Lilith says, ‘I promise I will be gentle with you.’
>Lilith nuzzles you softly.
>Quizalmix telegraphs to you, ‘[grin] Lilith pounced?’
>Bear telegraphs to Quizalmix, ‘She’s rapacious, no holding her.’
>Quizalmix telegraphs to you, ‘[laugh].’
>dress
>You dress quickly.
>Lilith says ‘oh!’
>Lilith was just going to undress.
>Bear says, ‘But it makes no difference!’
>Lilith loosens her robe and waits for you to notice before she takes it right off.
>Bear catches his lower lip between his teeth.
>Lilith is tempted to tap her foot. She is, however, too polite to do this. Lilith licks you on the nose.
>Bear’s lips writhe into a kissing shape, then, alas, unpout.
>Lilith leans against you, her body warm and the scent of her hair drifting round you.
>Bear telegraphs to Quizalmix, ‘I find I can’t really get into this computer sex.’
>Lilith whispers, ‘Just hold me.’ Lilith slips her robe onto the floor.
>Quizalmix telegraphs, ‘Ahh ... a bit “silly”?’
>examine Lilith
>Lilith’s bare body smells faintly of Jasmine and her hair is a dark cloud on her shoulders. Smooth skin gleams over breasts and long slim thighs.
>Bear telegraphs to Quizalmix, ‘Something like that.’
>Quizalmix telegraphs, ‘[smile] Well, depends I guess.’
>Quizalmix telegraphs, ‘I had the extremely fortunate chance to meet my partner on a MUG ...’
>Bear telegraphs to Quizalmix, ‘You mean your REAL life partner?’
>Quizalmix telegraphs, ‘[nod] Yes, dear. Started out with lots of ‘computer sex’ and very enjoyable it was too.’
>Bear says, ‘Lily, you are a dark and fascinating woman.’
>Bear telegraphs to Quizalmix, ‘Interesting ... do tell more.’
>Lilith says, ‘Darling, you must try. Put your immense and undoubted talent to work trying for serious erotic prose.’
>L
ilith says, ‘I know that if you try you can do it better than anyone.’
>Lilith says ‘Try and make me wriggle here in the chair.’
>Quizalmix telegraphs, ‘It made for a *very* interesting first meeting. But having explored each other online we were able to make an initial depth I’ve never encountered before ...’
>Lilith says, ‘See if you can.’
>Lilith says, ‘If you relax and let it flow, it’s fun and sexy.’
>Lilith leans back on the sofa and looks at you. She lifts one hand to your face and a finger touches your lips gently. Lilith leans closer and her lips follow the finger, pressing little kisses to the corners of your mouth. She feels the sweet familiar weakness.
>Bear’s olfactory sensors detect the aroma of Cuban leaf.
>Lilith gives you a friendly shove.
>Lilith whispers in your ear, ‘If you don’t seriously try I will get some handcuffs and a cane and I will beat you.’
>Bear says, ‘I can’t, God knows it’s hard enough being inventive in real life, let alone on here.’
>Lilith says, ‘You are scared and embarrassed!’
>Lilith laughs and strokes your face.
>Bear says, ‘Sorry, I have failed.’
>Lilith says, ‘You are suffering from cyber-impotence.’
>Lilith says, ‘No matter. There are many ways to be loving.’
>Bear says, ‘I can see that there is a level of communication beyond a simple description (however good) of whatever is being done.’
>Lilith tells you, ‘The action itself is far less important than how you say it. The description of your sensations and feelings.’
>Bear says, ‘A shared understanding perhaps?’
>Lilith tells you, ‘Yes, exactly. But be careful. Remember that I have warned you, it is very easy to fall in love on here.’
>Lilith the Original and Genuine Woman has just wandered out wearing nothing but a smile.
>o
>You step into a silver mist, intrigued by the way parts of your body dissolve to nothingness. There is a disorientating wrench as if you had been moved a great distance, although only a single step brings you to ...
Lilith (on wives)
‘Do you know the story of Lilith?’ asks eponymous Lil. ‘No? Then I must tell you. She was Adam’s first wife. When God spat into the dust and kneaded it to shape Adam, he also formed Lilith. There they lay, two lifeless clay figures, until the Almighty breathed into their mouths and opened their eyes – if you want me to give you a summary of relevant artistic and religious traditions of the neolithic near East, just shout, Bear, promise?’
(Bear solemnly nods.)
‘Good, well what happened next is roughly also the story of my marriage. Adam and Lilith never got on, right from the start. The very first time they lay down together, he tried to roll onto her and she pushed him off. She said “Why should I be under you? I am made from the same stuff as you. I am your equal.” Adam ignored this and tried again to have his way, using force. Lilith got into a rage, uttered a charm – actually one of the magic names of God – and rose into the air and flew away.’
‘Typical bloody woman.’
‘I’ll ignore that. So anyway, Adam – typical bloody man – runs whining to God. Says, “That strange sex doll you gave me, well she’s buggered off.” So God – typical bloody male deity – says “You poor sod. Never mind. I’ll soon sort her out.” So He sends the angels Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof – who sound like brands of inferior lavatory cleaner – to find Lilith and drag her kicking and screaming back to paradise. Lilith meanwhile was sunning herself by the Red Sea, in a favourite hang-out of lascivious demons and fallen angels. She was having a good time and had not the slightest intention of stopping, so the feathered trio adopted the subtle approach, “Get back to your husband right now, or we’ll drown you.” “Can’t be done,” said Lilith, “that would be an abuse of my fundamental human rights because I’m pregnant.” She was in fact massively pregnant. “Besides,” she said, “How can I return to Adam and live like an honest housewife, after my stay beside the Red Sea?”
‘So how is this like your marriage, Lil?’ (They are in the Vortex, lying on a grassy bank in Narnia, waiting for Luna.)
‘I was married for twenty years,’ Lilith says, ‘to a pleasant but dull man, a teacher of Eng. Lit. at a modern university. Poor Matthew. He dreamed of a fellowship at a Cambridge college, sitting at high table swapping stories about Leavis (than which, incidentally, I can think of nothing more tedious). But as his hair receded – which it did rather slowly, like the tide going out at Weston-super-Mare – his dreams also dwindled. By the time he was forty-five his highest ambition was to get inside some pretty student’s knickers. How that man would salivate over his female students! I’ve never seen anything so obvious. But there was one girl, an enthusiastic child who wrote him very long essays in curly handwriting decorated with drawings of flowers. For some reason I became jealous. I still don’t really know why. When I pressed him, he stopped talking about her. I began reading his diary and going through his papers. When I found nothing I thought that maybe the secrets were hidden in this thing he called “email”. So one night I stole his password and logged into his JANET account.’
‘Bravo,’ says Bear, ‘I have never before met anyone who started as a hacker.’
‘You’re not taking my tragedy seriously.’
‘Whatever happened can’t have been tragic. You’re the most untragic person I know.’
‘As a matter of fact, you’re right,’ says Lilith. ‘Poking around in poor Matt’s e-mail proved deady dull. First of all I had to figure out how it worked. And when I did, all I found was a reminder about an overdue library book and the minutes of a committee meeting. No love letters. No secret outpourings of passion. All frightfully disappointing . . .’
‘Disappointing? What a strange woman you are. Surely you were relieved?’
‘The thing is, I wasn’t. I discovered that I’d wanted him to be having an affair. No, more than wanted – needed. I realised that what I’d thought of as jealousy wasn’t really jealousy at all. It was old-fashioned boredom. Frustration with my tedious existence. I was actually looking for something to get upset about, something we could row over, a reason to throw things, smash the crockery, break furniture. Matt might have been innocent, but I discovered that I wanted to do all these things anyway. Regardless. So I told him and he was very sweet and reasonable in a “let’s talk this over like two mature people” sort of way. So then I flew completely off the handle and walked out.’
‘Gosh, where did you go?’
‘Ah, well, by then I had made some new, exciting friends. One night, when I was playing with Matt’s computer, I’d stumbled onto something called EssexMUD. It was a game rather like Shades. Supposedly the very first MUD. In fact – Bear, you’d know this – isn’t Shades a by-blow of EssexMUD?’
(Bear nods. It was. Is.)
‘It was full of strange roleplaying types – doing it not very well, I see now, but at the time a revelation – anyway, I was very wicked and ran off with this young chap I met there. He was twenty, yeasty as a baguette. His name was . . . oh how embarrassing, but then again, there have been so many. Cyberspace was my Red Sea. It’s where I acquired my taste for young men. They’re such enthusiasts. So touchingly grateful to be instructed in the amorous arts. Teaching (and touching) them made me feel like one of those terrifying whore-virgin goddesses the Old Testament patriarchs got so worked up about. That’s how I came to be Lilith. Also how I got the idea for the Academy.’
(Miss Lilith’s Academy of the 64 Loving Arts & Sciences is part of the Vortex, a few doors down from Madame Pompadora’s, which is a Corrective Institute. Bear demonstrates signs of incipient speech – but in the event says nothing.)
The Academy taught lovemaking in theory and practice. The sex was, of course, virtual, although there was plenty of slippery eff-2-effing in student digs with lads young enough to be my grandsons.’
‘Eff-2-effing?’
‘Face-to-face. As opposed to ess-2-ess, which is screen-to-screen. In the Vortex, we don’t make opposites of “virtual” and “real” since both are equally real. When we want to talk about the touchy-feely world we say eff-2-eff.’
‘Not but what,’ says Lilith dreamily, ‘eff-2-effing with horny young men is very delicious, but nowadays – perhaps it is just my age – I can honestly say I prefer virtual sex.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘It’s best,’ she says, ‘to keep the two sorts of relationship quite separate. I learned this the hard way. One night, quite late – it was after I’d been living on my own for a while – there was a knock on the door. Quite innocently I opened it. Actually, I thought it might be Matthew. The idea that he missed me was sort of sweet, even if I didn’t want to go back. But it was a stranger. A man in his forties. Unshaven. Dirty filthy. Looked as if he’d been sleeping in barns. He was grinning at me. He reeked of drink. He said, “Lily, it’s me. I’ve come for you.” I was petrified. I said “I don’t know you!” He looked upset and said “Don’t say that! You promised!” I shut the door and he was banging on it. He was shouting, “What about your promise?” I shouted back “I don’t know you! Go away, I’m calling the police!” Then he said a name and it was horrible because I knew him well. On the game, he was someone I adored. Whose company I loved. We’d had passionate times together. But I was telling him “No, sorry, you can’t come in!” Then he said “Lily don’t do this. I’ve left my wife.” I opened the door. Ou menya nye khvatilo dukhu atkazatsa. I had not the courage to refuse. He embraced me and I was thinking, I don’t like this, in the Vortex he was twenty. He kissed me and it was like dipping my tongue in sewage.’
(Bear grimaces. Finds it hard to imagine Lilith, whom he remembers f2f leatherclad and havanacigar’d, or s2s pouring tea, in the situations she describes.)
‘Bear, you know how f2f sex is always better when you feel strongly for the other person. People don’t realise that you don’t need the physical to have those feelings. When you play s2s with an expert, it can be indescribably sweet. In either case, the explosion is always in the mind. You of all people should appreciate this.’