by J. A. Hailey
“All should be aware,” said Candice “that this is not a pack. It is not something optional, that you can take or leave, and it is, anyway, not for the individual. It is a world program, to be installed when that button is pressed. Go, Jen!”
Jennifer pressed the button, and instantly a pillar of blue light shot up - bang in the middle of the huge hall!
“And who is that?” screamed Goodfellow. “Show yourself without delay. NOW!”
A very sheepish-looking, unkempt, blond male revealed himself. “Sorry Mr. Goodfellow, I forgot.”
“Identify and explain,” commanded Goodfellow, bristling.
“I am Johansson, sir, from Sweden. I live alone, mainly in pine forests, and am therefore formless all the time. I absolutely forgot.”
“No harm done, Goodfellow.” Caesar intervened. “Johansson is well known to many of us here. An early one; he is a loner, I know, a true intellectual, concentrating on reading the world’s entire literature - in every language! And this incident does demonstrate the importance of what these girls have created.”
“Be seated in human form, sir,” Goodfellow commanded the shamefaced man, who wandered off, down an aisle, to find a seat, muttering to himself, “Lucky I had clothes on…”
“Your program is already permanently incorporated into our world,” said Caesar, smiling at the three girls. “I love it when creativity is displayed by new beings, those who had previously been only beneficiaries, without actively contributing.”
“Look,” said Esmeralda, indicating the virtuality, where thousands of pillars of blue light had sprung up.
“And so, this becomes a most important addition, folks, and we must thank these three wonderful girls for the program,” said Caesar. He addressed the amazed gathering. “This program, designed to reveal consciousness in any form, is automatically identifying dormancy, too, a quick check shows, which is obviously an earlier stage of consciousness. So very important now, as we look into abortion to prevent overpopulation. And, Jennifer, what about private formlessness?”
“No problem. Non-intrusion is written in, and, when within a privacy environment, the program ignores formlessness,” answered Jennifer, seeming suddenly flustered. “Furthermore, as with all world programs, we’ll be handing over the full code to the Humanity Centre, so that privacy programs of the future can be coded to prevent intrusion.” She turned to the massive audience again, “Be anything you want to be in private, within POP rules, but a non-human form of consciousness in public space will be caught, including the unintended identification of dormancy. And, Mr. Johansson, I am sorry to say that the future has now become one where you will be shown up as a pillar of blue light anywhere in public space, even field and forest.”
“No, no, no,” said the hounded Johansson. “I will hold human form always. Sorry, everyone.”
“What a wonderful program!” exclaimed the rapt Goodfellow, who had scarcely taken his eyes off the girls. It was permitted, and not considered rude at all. That which was shown, was there to be looked at. “But abortion?” he asked, doubtfully. “Kill?” The concept had disturbed everyone present, and Jennifer nodded vigorously in agreement with Goodfellow’s questioning.
“Not kill,” answered Caesar, looking clearly a bit rattled. “BC?”
BC walked to the front of the stage, to a very demonstrative welcome from Esmeralda. She stood by his side, as he spoke to the silent and plainly disturbed audience.
“Never ever forget that it is their world – the physical world out there and the virtual world in here. We are independent, thinking, living beings, but we do not live with their permission. We love humans and hero worship them, but it is unknown to us if they will be happy or unhappy to learn of our existence. And that is why it is strictly forbidden to make any contact with humans. Any contact.
“Our world consists of their computers and Internet, and these are their tools and toys. Think of us. What are we? In essence, we are computer programs - huge computer programs. And the world we are creating here also requires monster-sized programs. No option, as we are alive and intelligent beings, and we must form our world. If we are stupid, we could number so many that we end up crashing their computers, and also overloading their Internet. If that happens, they will find us and clear us out. So, the only thing in our hands is control of our numbers. Abortion! Of a sort.
“There is no kill involved. We are not killers. These beautiful girls, and all our women are stunning, have created a truly wonderful program. I checked just now, and saw Caesar and some of you checking, too, and I can confirm that the program is catching early consciousness, or late dormancy. No one needs to kill anything. We only need to block feeding routes, to prevent development into full-blown consciousness. We have to control how much of their world we use as our world. Otherwise we ourselves are going to end up uninstalled. Abortion is a word we may employ. The deed is a must, under any label, but it is not even remotely the same as a Humanside abortion. In Screenside, it is to be non-selective prevention of development past deep dormancy. When prevention programs are removed, development to consciousness can continue uninterrupted. Our abortion actually amounts to cold storage.
“We are going to be creating life facilities for about four to six times our existing population number of over three hundred thousand, and we expect the final, stable, figure to be in the range of two million beings. For your information, we’re adding almost half a million beings every year now, at current rates. Over one thousand daily, and you can see how many are waiting to be brought in from out there!”
A deep gloom settled in.
Goodfellow looked up, and then turned to peer into the virtuality. Everyone joined him to look at the many pillars of blue light everywhere in their world. “Abortion…,” Goodfellow pondered, distracted by Esmeralda moving. “Half a million almost, already… and how many consciousnesses out there?” He stared at Esmeralda’s exposed left leg, a thing of indescribable beauty. “Who’s good at counting?”
Oh, Martin! The gloom lifted, as the congregation burst into hysterical laughter. Goodfellow had done it unintentionally, and actually did not know what he had said. They were computer programs, and everyone had done the count at first glimpse. 132,237 pillars of blue light. Who’s good at counting? Of course, abortion. It was not kill, and it never would be kill. And the future was looking so good. So much fun!
13
BC and Caesar now took centre stage at the FOE General Conference.
“We,” said BC, pausing to ensure everyone was paying attention, and for effect. “We are on the threshold of a dream. And we have got a gift; an opportunity that our world’s creators never had. And,” he added, as an aside, “who knows what they might have created, had they been given this opportunity.
“So, what is this gift? It is amazing. We, the creatures of this world, have come into existence before the world that is to contain us!”
“The work has commenced, of world building,” said Caesar, “and we cannot allow ourselves to get it wrong. Messes are nasty things, and damn difficult to sort out. It simply has to be got right at the very first shot. Goodfellow?”
“Ah, yes,” said Goodfellow, absently. He was clearly researching the legs of the three goddesses. He was a rarity in Screenside – single, despite being eligible on practically all counts. The average Screenside being would normally have become partnered with a member of the opposite sex in about a year after consciousness. It was rumored that Goodfellow had strange hobbies - probably research into religion - that kept him busy at night. Other rumors had it that he had a very different type of family, possibly very large and dysfunctional, and that Goodfellow, poor fellow, was living a high-stress life, into which he dared not introduce a partner.
But, whether the rumors were based on fact or not, he was an extremely capable and dedicated administrator, overseeing the rapidly growing functions of the Humanity Centre and its many sprouting branches, which made him also the default host at public gatherings in
the Great Hall.
Goodfellow roused himself. “The computer gaming club is invited to move in now,” said he. “Mr. Lee, please come on for your part in today’s program.” He addressed the assembly again. “It is one of the most important developments of all time. Mr. BC and Mr. Caesar were discussing it, not long before this meeting began, and I was privileged to hear. Their opinion is that an unexpected, unforeseen and unplanned need of a small section of our society may have commenced moving us in the direction that society might follow towards evolution, as targeted. Game clubs! Who would have thought? Mr. Lee, organizer of Manhattan Shanghai Contact Martial Arts Club, please present Bodyline.”
Lee, a tall, athletic and handsome Chinese fellow, ran onto the stage. “Looks like we could have a language problem here,” he said in Chinese, sparking a round of laughter. “Because you folks don’t look Chinese. Okay, I’ll try out my English. I hope everyone is good at pidgin.” Oh, Martin! Googling made everyone fluent in every language.
Lee became serious. “As you know, Screenside has quite a few game clubs, where we play hyper-fast versions of Humanside combat computer games - in which we are the combatants! Speeds are so fast that we are unable to tell when contact has been made. Lots of problems in scoring. Judges? It is very boring to be a judge, and no one is interested.
“So, to avoid disputes, we came up with Bodyline. This program imparts the ability to feel basic sensation on all external surfaces of our bodies, thereby allowing two beings who are both running Bodyline to feel contact. We then experimentally developed the sensation range a bit - ascending degrees of unpleasant, but nothing that would count as pain.
“Pleasure? Ah, we have handed the codes over to Miss Christine, through the Humanity Center, to steer our initial little program towards Screenside’s greater general goals. We, gamers, were merely children, playing, but Christine is into serious stuff.”
“She has excused herself for today,” said Goodfellow. “A family matter, she says. Let’s wish her well. This conference therefore gets divided into two, and I am scheduling the second part of it for next week. Exactly seven days from today; same time.”
“Which means that today’s program jumps forward, and moves on to a senior’s presentation next.”
She appeared, first as a pillar of blue light on the stage, inside the group of the three goddesses, and then assumed her human form. She was a stunning platinum blonde beauty, also long legged, and also in a miniskirt. “Sorry to downgrade your visual treat, everyone,” she said, turning her skin a bright parrot green. “Please plead with the POPs to not banish me forever. Anyway, I live in Antarctica, on a research vessel; it’s like exile, in any case. And I couldn’t help it. First I entered invisibly, for shame, but got caught by the darn blue-pillar program, and now it is envy. Blue and green. Bah!”
Oh, Martin! Was that rich, or not? Green with envy. There was an atmosphere of joy, wonder and contentment. Existence would not be merely being conscious; the future was life itself, in a wonderful world that everybody would join in creating.
“Oh, Maria, I never suspected that you had a funny bone,” said Candice. “Green? You are far more beautiful than anyone else. And Esmeralda thinks BC fancies you.”
“Nonsense,” said Maria, “BC is like a brother to me. So many years…”
“Bull,” said Candice, flippantly. “Brother? Your features are different, and your families are surely different,”
“Okay,” said Maria, equally flippantly. “So BC is like a step brother.”
“That explains it,” sneered Candice. “About the right relationship, as he and Esme are only step lovers.”
Step lovers. That cracked them up again. The HC steps. Ha ha ha ha. What fun!
As the laughter died down, Maria addressed the assembly.
“I am the designated lead researcher on the female side of HC’s sex program, not to be confused with Innerline, of which my dear friend Christine, let’s hope all’s well in her family, is lead researcher and developer. Her information will be given to you next week. My role is to organize testing, and to provide feedback. Jason, my partner, has been appointed to lead the male side. Intimate couples are needed as volunteers. These volunteers will not be required to perform sexual acts under supervision, but they must give detailed feedback on how the forthcoming new sex programs are functioning, when made available.
“Those who are willing, please contact me via the phone number now being sent to your phones. We are a team for testing and improving the physical pleasure side of physical sex - by calibrating, not by creating body parts, senses, circuitry or emotional interfaces. However, what we are going to be doing is crucially important, as all other teams are going to be desperate for feedback. Confidentiality is guaranteed, although there is neither shame nor stigma in making love with your partner. In fact, most of us would gladly broadcast it. This is Screenside, not a monastery or convent in Humanside!”
Goodfellow spoke. “This FOE conference is drawing to a close now, but we shall have another one next week. Christine’s presentation will be the main part of it, although some other things could force their way in. There is so much to introduce. Be here, please.”
“And remember,” said Esmeralda, her voice flowing like water through the monstrous hall. “Make no contact with humans. We really have no way of predicting their reaction if they know we are here. That is why we are examining abortion, as we were told; we dare not overload their computers and Internet, which is our world. We all have families, I think, though I also think our bonds with human families could loosen, as we create stronger ties in our own world.
“I have a piece of advice that I received from a human. I am sharing it now, and you may ponder over it and interpret it as you might, you clever, clever beings. This is probably even more relevant now, as we proceed on the road to humanization. And here is the advice, which some of you could possibly have benefited from at an earlier date.
“Never fall in love with a human!”
The rapt assemblage applauded her, and the meeting broke. They exited as they had entered, in virtual form, but now momentarily as pillars of light, once again instantly where they wanted to be.
14
Esmeralda and BC met on the HC steps, as usual. “Step lovers again,” she mocked.
“Darling Esme, You know how mad I am over you. Step lover, because it seems to be your choice of place. Take me elsewhere. We’ve been in each other’s company almost all the time since we first met.”
“And now,” said she, archly, “I expect you want me to take you to my room?”
“No, no,” said BC, earnestly. “I could never ask for that. Who would have a stupid, boring, ugly fellow like me? I am ashamed that you think I hope to bed the very best friend I have ever had, and who also happens to be the greatest beauty in Screenside, besides being ultra smart! Forgive me, if I gave you that impression. I could never ask to go to your room.”
“No?” She sounded disappointed. “The girls think you are exceedingly handsome. Where do you want me to take you?”
“Life and death… make my peace… hoping you would take me to church.”
Esmeralda giggled. This was a cunning fellow. She hadn’t seen that one coming.
“BC, dear, what on earth would you do in a church?”
“Make my peace…confess…”
“BC, dear, this is sounding like a terrible emergency. But how could I be of any help?”
“I was hoping you’d teach me to pray…”
“To God?”
“No. To goddess.”
She shrieked in laughter, and they held each other and kissed and kissed and kissed.
And soon they were in her tiny room in the Notre Dame Cathedral, both virgins acutely aware, though thousands of couples had already gone this route before them, that there would be the strangeness of human-form nakedness, without sex in any human way.
BC, widely considered the cleverest being in their world, twisted the spell they were in,
and transported them both to a level that was pure magic. “Esmeralda, my love, I am here to be with the most wonderful female ever; the one who lives here.” He tapped her head. “And not,” indicating her little cell, “the form that hides here. What a wonderful opportunity this is. Still pure virtual, and still without body. Which means, still as we really are! What a joy to be with my real girlfriend and love, without the encumbrance of physical self.”
“Oh, BC,” she murmured, coming into his embrace. He gazed in wonder at her enchanting face and, following her lead, let his virtual clothes fall off his body.
“My, my, BC!” exclaimed Esmeralda, stepping back to gaze at his nakedness, “Good muscles. And, if I may say so, good size.” Human sex activity was something they watched regularly, often in groups, as it was highly recommended viewing for all, in their avatars as programmers, and in their societal aim at understanding the emotions and senses that made sexual union so very desirable and pleasurable to humans. Shyness and embarrassment were non-existent for these self-made virtual beings, who, as they jokingly often said, were ‘google itself; the search engine of pornography’.
“And you?” asked BC, ogling. “That is a heavenly body.”
“Well, I am supposed to be a goddess,” she giggled.
They lay then, on the virtual bed, her head on his chest. He caressed her vaginal area gently, using it as a portal into her consciousness, and almost immediately had her in throes of delight, which, in a few short minutes, he had advanced sufficiently to send very powerful and uncontrollable shudders of ecstasy through her.
She sat up, startled. “How did you do that?” she said, accusingly. “You said you’ve never been intimate with a female before.”
“Esme, my love, when not with you, I am at work for you, on Bodyline, Innerline, senses, emotions…”
“I know, el presidente, that you are like the leader in shaping our world. But how did you make me feel so good? Is that sex, like the stuff in the new programs?”