by Doug Welch
Jake watched as she moved in a fluid set of motions, each intended to display the treasures of her slim, curvaceous body through the gown. He moved toward her, his feet caressed by the flowers. As he moved, he felt silk-like garments slide along his chest and limbs. He glanced down at his virtego and saw that he wore white, loose trousers and an open front tunic held together by a golden chain. He could sense his nude body beneath the filmy coverings.
As he came near the hill, she stopped dancing and looked at him. She wore a black half-mask that hid the upper part of her face. She smiled, turned, and fled toward the trees. She seemed to glide over the ground as though she barely touched it, and disappeared at the edge of the meadow.
Disoriented, Jake had no idea as to how he had arrived here, and who or what had caused it. He realized that the answers lay with the woman, so he hastened to follow her through the woods, chasing her white ghostly figure as it flashed between the trunks. As he pursued her, he could feel a soft carpet of leaves beneath his bare feet, and the smooth bark of the silvery trees beneath his hands when he touched them. The leaves exuded a resiny cinnamon-like smell. He slowed, moving carefully through the forest toward a golden-yellow glow that filtered through a stand of the woods.
He entered a clear area of the woodland. The trees arched on either side, their leaved canopies forming a cathedral-like ceiling above. Fruit that emitted golden light grew in their boughs, casting a candle like glow over a grass-covered ground. At the end of the glade the woman sat on a raised dais-like area, formed of an emerald moss covering that grew in profusion.
He approached her and stood before her. Her gown clung to her breasts and thighs, revealing some tantalizing parts of her petite body and hiding others. Her hair, which in the moonlight had seemed silver, now crowned her in gold. A slit in the long, filmy skirt she wore, traveled up to her hip and she extended one bare, shapely limb from it. The light caused her flesh to glow and her eyes behind the mask smoldered. She smiled at him and pointed to the ground.
He stood in front of her. “Who are you, and how did you bring me here?”
“I think you're the one. This is a fantasy, a dream,” she replied. “It's not real, neither of us exists. The world only consists of the pleasure we find with each other. Now, kneel at my feet.”
Jake dropped to one knee in front of her, and she extended her naked foot to his bare chest, kneading his flesh. She slid her foot down, lower, caressing him all the way, toward his abdomen and finally coming to rest upon his now painfully hard penis. She wiggled her toes on it, sending exquisite pulses of pleasure through his body. He knew that too much of her ministrations would shorten their time together, so he caught her foot and raised it toward his mouth.
He stared at her while he took each of her toes one by one and sucked them into his mouth, caressing them with his tongue. He licked and nipped the sole of her foot, tasting the cinnamon-like flavor of the leaves, her soft skin felt, smelled and tasted like nothing he had ever experienced on the net. He traveled up along her calf, kissing and caressing the velvety flesh, until he found her knee, where he tongued and kissed the tender underside.
Meanwhile, he ran his free hand up her thigh toward her hip and cupped one of her firm buttocks. She cocked her knee and opened herself to him, leaning back against the moss. He dragged his tongue slowly along the inner flesh of her thigh, until he reached the tender skin along her opening. At that point, he used just the tip of his tongue to tease the sensitive area, smelling the scent of her arousal, and tasting her salty perspiration along with moisture exuding from her core.
She reached to the hip of her split-gown and released a catch, causing the whole garment to fall away from her lower body. Jake took advantage of the freedom and used his grip on her hips to pull her toward his mouth. He used his tongue to part the silky golden hair surrounding her lower lips, and ran it along the edge, while he kneaded the firm roundness of her bottom. He could feel the breath catch in her chest, and her breathing quickened. He used the tip of his tongue to lightly touch the nub at the apex of her opening and she gasped at each touch. He felt the silky fabric of her dress slide across his face, and looked up.
She had bared her small, exquisitely formed breasts, and now kneaded them with both her hands; her fingers lightly caressed the nipples. Her body lay totally exposed to his view.
He returned to his earlier effort, and pressed his tongue along her mound, using the tip of it to quest for her opening. She began to make small sounds of pleasure, and reached down to unclasp the chain holding the tunic covering his chest. He moved closer to give her access. She slid the garment from his shoulders, and ran her hands along his ribs. He reciprocated, and slid his hands along her sides, eventually arriving at her breasts. He used both hands to cup and caress her firm breasts, pulling at the delicate nipples, while he slid his tongue up and down her opening. She bucked her hips against his mouth and shuddered.
He rose from his knees and pressed his chest to her breasts, capturing her mouth with his, and slid his tongue between her lips, while one hand crept down to cup her mound. He felt the silky hair with his fingers, and beneath it, the moist, hot flesh. Finding it, he slid one of them inside and pressed against the roof of her core, squeezing the liquid softness within. He deepened his kiss, thrusting his tongue further in her mouth, feeling the tenderness of her lips and her tongue alongside his.
She abruptly assumed control, shoved him away, and ripped the trousers from his hips, exposing him to her gaze. She pushed on his chest, forcing him to recline on his back on the soft moss. She straddled him, and gripped his erection, guiding it into her opening. He felt her sheath slide along his length as she slowly moved down to engulf him in her moist heat. She supported herself with her legs, and her hands on his chest.
She began to move her hips, sliding herself up and down his now, rock hard flesh. He saw her thighs and calves begin to quiver from the effort. She lowered herself until her mound pressed against him, grinding it against his groin.
Jake felt his orgasm start to build and he gripped her rear, assisting her hips as she started rubbing and bucking with him. She leaned down, pressing her breasts on his chest and kissed him, burying her tongue deep in his mouth. He sucked and nibbled on it, as the thrusts of her hips became more urgent. She drew back from his mouth, and her hot, fast breath stroked his lips.
“More,” she gasped. “Harder.”
He increased his effort, thrusting his hips in synchronization with her rhythm, feeling the ecstasy build. They both breathed in panting gasps, little moans escaping with each movement. His orgasm finally exploded, sending shock waves of pleasure throughout him over and over. At the same time, she arched her back and muffled screams accompanied the shudders enveloping her body. He felt the walls of her sheath squeeze his length with each quiver of her body.
She collapsed on him, burying her face in his chest. They lay like that for a while in the afterglow, recovering strength, their breathing slowing toward normal.
Jake finally stirred and began to stroke her back. “Who are you? How did you bring me here?” He reached up to remove the mask she wore. “At least let me take off the mask.”
She drew away from his touch, disengaged from him, and leaped up. “No, I am only a dream. This is only a dream.” She backed away from him towards the moss-covered throne, and vanished.
Jake found himself back in the club sitting at the table, disoriented, and still flushed from the strange encounter. He sat for a while, recovering his strength, like waking from a dream. How could it have felt so real?
Eventually he left the table and moved through the crowd toward the restroom, intending to clean up. His progress halted when a diminutive figure collided with his body. The figure wore a hooded jacket, and the hood had nearly slid off in the collision. The face of a woman peered out of the hood. She had wide round eyes, like an Anime character. Blond curls surrounded her face, and her hazel eyes opened wide in surprise. Her heart-shaped lips parted, “Are y
ou Jake Harrison?”
For a moment, Jake didn't know how to reply. Then he recognized the jacket she wore, and realized that this might be the person he'd encountered in the subway. With her blonde hair, and kissable lips, could she also be the woman he'd made love to in the fantasy? He wondered what she wanted. How could she net-connect in her real persona?
Finally, he found his voice. “Yes I'm Jake, are you the woman in the clearing?”
A look of apprehension clouded her face. “Clearing? What clearing? – I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Well – never mind. OK – what's your name?”
“My name is immaterial.”
Jake grinned, he couldn't resist it. “Hello, Immaterial.”
“Wha –? No! I mean – All right! Liv. My name is Liv. – Satisfied? We're wasting time. I need to talk to you. – In person. Not on the net.”
“Fantastic! Wonderful! Where can we meet?”
She suddenly became nervous, and started glancing wildly around the club. “I'll find you.” She turned away, and darted through the crowd.
“Wait!” He moved to follow her, and frantically searched the dance floor, but she had vanished. With implacable determination, he plowed through the dancers, making his way through the front doors, and out of the club into the street. Scanning the crowds, he could not see her.
A strange feeling swept over him, as though he had lost part of his soul. He fought the efforts of the neuromechs to sooth his frustration. The result brought a punishing crash and a sense of defeat. No longer in the mood to party, he disconnected from the net and emerged to his empty cube.
Chapter 2
The Net
Liv. Her name rang constantly in his mind. A chance to meet and experience the nearness of a live human woman excited his imagination. He spent most of his waking hours frantically searching for her. He visited the club every night for the rest of the week, and waited for hours. He ventured out of his cube and traveled the subway often, heedless of his physical safety. He had to find her.
The work day meeting loomed and he had no heart to attend it, but driven by habit, and a desire for human contact, he prepared himself, and left his cube. During the trip to the office, he scanned all the stations as the train flashed by, looking for some glimpse of a slender figure. At the meeting, he sat silent, as the same frustrating problems elicited the same useless results. He closed the meeting early, and allowed everyone to leave. On the way to the elevators, Allan stopped him.
“What's the matter Jake? You're not your old self. You look like shit. Are you sick?”
Yes I'm sick, sick of living. “I guess it's just a case of indigestion. I may be partying too much. Maybe I need to stay away from the net. Give myself a rest.”
Allan looked dubious. “I heard on the news-net that suicides have increased dramatically recently. Maybe you need to consult your mind-doc.”
He felt touched by Allan's concern, but knew what to expect if he did use the mind-doc. His neuromechs would be adjusted, and all his real feelings would vanish. He rebelled at the idea. He had the conviction that his passion for living connected him to his humanity and Liv. He wouldn't abandon it for artificial euphoria. “I'll be fine Allan, but thanks for your concern.”
Allan paused, just staring at him. “I'd hate to lose you, Jake. There aren’t many people who try to live in the real world. It'd be a real tragedy if you checked out. You give me hope.”
“It's not that, Allan, at least not in the near future. I've got a lot of things on my mind. Maybe I'll follow your advice. – Check the mind-doc. – You know.”
“Yeah. I know. Well… See you next week. Take care.”
“Bye Allan.’Till next week.”
They exited the offices separately, each to individual elevators. Returning to his cube, he prowled the net nearly every day looking for her. He avoided most of the virt-worlds; instead concentrating on the last place he'd seen her. He walked the virtual streets, ignoring the huge crowds of virtegos who passed by. He'd met her while she existed in her persona or so he believed. It didn't seem possible. No one connected in physical form, or at least he had never heard of it before. Where was her physical body? Did she live near him? His obsession threatened to drive him insane, but fired his need to meet her. The questions circled repetitively in his brain. She asked to meet him in person. Didn't that imply something?
After a few days of restless searching, he disconnected from the net, his inert body still immobilized from the paralyzing effects his neuromechs had induced. He sweated. Although the neuromechs isolated his nervous system from his motor functions to prevent him from acting out his net fantasies, they didn't stop his emotions, or the sensations experienced when he exerted himself. He rested for a moment in the chair, still in the ambiance, but not experiencing it. He lay there thinking, as he watched the unending parade of virtegos stream by, staring, but not really seeing them. Where else could he look? Where in hundreds of virtual worlds could she be? Did she live in the net at all?
Finding her in the real world should have been easy. Not many people moved through the streets of L.A., or traveled the tube way. But he'd tried, walking the empty streets near his cube, and riding the tube train, without success. I'll find you, her last, departing words.
Jake decided he'd neglected his job long enough in his fruitless quest. He needed to check the progress of the new chair project and see if his engineers were doing their jobs. If he didn't supervise them nothing would be accomplished. “Industrial virtual, Alice.”
“Yes, boss.” Alice always morphed her appearance and personality to match the requirements of the environment. In the industrial virtual world, she became the plain, efficient, personal assistant to the engineering manager of Sens-U-Environ.
The world changed. Displayed before him, as he stood on a wide plain with a black featureless sky, spread the manufacturing heart of North America. The complex world contained hundreds of blazing virtual buildings that towered thousands of feet tall. They housed ten of thousands of companies, their corporate logos prominently blazing, creating a dazzling and intimidating sight. To walk to the site of Sens-U-Environ would consume unnecessary real-time, so he commanded Alice to morph him to his office.
He emerged in a wide, impressive office complete with massive executive desk, rich with gleaming wood surfaces. Alice stood in the room dressed in a plain, gray business suit, wearing glasses, her hair severely pulled back and fastened. Jake chuckled. “You don't have to do that, Alice.”
“Hey boss, it's business. Can't look like a street whore. Do you want me to connect you? “
“Configure the chair first.” Jake settled in the chair. Immediately he heard the soft sounds of humming office equipment and smelled the faint, subdued scent of Alice's perfume.
“The shift Operations Supervisor is waiting to see you.”
Jake wondered what the man wanted. Ordinarily, the supervisor reported to the Operations Manager. What did he want from him? “I'll see him, Alice.”
The man emerged, obviously upset, and promptly sat in one of the office chairs. “You're Jake Harrison?”
“Yes who are you?”
“Name's Carl Adams. I'm the shift supervisor for this shift, and we're in trouble.”
Jake studied Adams. His virtego reflected gray hair, brown eyes and a somber, nearly grim expression. His words caused Jake to reflect upon the whole manufacturing process. People who managed the actual production worked two-hour shifts, three days a week. Their job actually entailed monitoring the processes and making corrections if one drifted out of tolerance. They spent all their time at a virtual data input board, somewhat like the old computer keyboards in the museums. The real factory consisted of scores of general-purpose machines called 'fabbers'. An artificial intelligence, a factory level AI, controlled the overall plant. The fabbers took the design for a product from the AI, and used trash from land-fill mining and recycling to create the parts. Fabbers were a mature technology, more th
an a half century old. But the development of artificial intelligence by Olivia Carlson, two decades ago, had revolutionized manufacturing forever. Manufacturing facilities nearly ran themselves. What could be so urgent that the supervisor would bypass his nominal superior? “What can I do for you Carl?”
“You can get people to connect for their work shifts. That's what. I've got some people actually working eight hours a day to take up the slack. This can't go on much longer, Jake, we'll have to shut down some of the facilities if it does.”
“Why haven't you discussed this with your boss?”
Carl snorted and threw up his hands. “I would, if I could find him, he hasn't connected in months. You're the only manager who seems to give a damn, so I'm telling you. Something needs to be done. We can't run the plants without human oversight.”
Jake knew that some of the critical processes contained significant hazards, and if they ran out of control they could cause severe damage to the factory, or pose an environmental hazard. The AI that ran the manufacturing plant, although incredibly fast and efficient, possessed the emotional maturity of a four-year old human child. Stressful decisions that an adult human would take in stride, could damage the AI, rendering it inert. It required human guidance to function properly. An AI represented a significant portion of the cost of an installation. Human workers protected it at all times.
“Shift all the people to the most critical processes on my authority. Let the AIs handle the rest. I'll kick this problem up to my bosses and see if they can do something.”
Carl exhaled, and slumped back in the chair. “Thanks. I've already done that to a certain extent… Jake, this can't go on much longer. We're close to the breaking point.”
Jake rose from his seat and began to pace the room. “I know Carl, I know. I just don't know how to stop the slide.” He stopped pacing and looked at him. “Do you?”
Carl shook his head. “No. But I do know it's going to take more than the two of us. People have to stop hiding and start living.”