Virtual Mode

by Piers Anthony

  "I fear I can not. But perhaps I can clarify the rationale."

  "How about this: if you try it, and it works, we're both there and we see about getting married or whatever. If you try it and it doesn't work, you turn yourself in for mental treatment."

  He laughed. "If they provide food and shelter, I will not mind if they think I am deluded! If I can not return, my life will not be long in any event."

  "Because if they cure you, I'll still marry you," she said. And there was another crazy thing she was doing! Seriously talking of marriage to a man she believed to be crazy! But crazy or not, he was a lot better for her than death.

  "Let me clarify the rationale," he said. "Because then I can use the key, and it will be done. There are an infinite number of Modes, in which different people live and different fundamental laws obtain. The Chips enable us to establish contact with the others. In mine, magic—"

  "Like computer chips," she said.

  "You know of the Chips?"

  "A chip is a sort of section of a computer that enables it to do what it does," she said. "To address a lot of memory, for example. The fancier the chip, the more sophisticated the computer. Take the 86 series, for example."

  "There are eighty-six of these 'computers'?"

  She laughed. "No, silly, that's what they're called! The 8086, 80286, 80386, and so on. There was an 80186 but I think it was the same as the 8086. Anyway, they may seem similar, but the amount of RAM they can manage is—"

  "Ram? A male sheep?"

  She laughed so hard she let herself fall over backwards, which was fun. She tended to be happy when she was with him, which was an exhilarating experience. Then she remembered that she wasn't in her blue jeans now; she didn't want to freak him out. Not right at this moment anyway; better to save it for when she needed it. He had endearingly quaint notions of propriety. She drew herself up and forced herself into sobriety. "No, RAM stands for random access memory. Memory you can change about, any which way you want. So you can do a lot with it. But that's irrelevant. The point is that when you said you had chips to make contact with other realities, well, I thought of the way our computer chips make contact with a lot of memory, among other things. It's just an analogy."

  "Perhaps," he said seriously. "But it sounds so much like an aspect of what I was discussing that I think I had better learn more of it. Exactly what is a computer, and how does the chip relate to it? The chip is an integral part?"

  "You really don't know?"

  "I really don't know, Colene, and it may be important."

  "Okay. We use computers in school for homework papers and math problems and things. Oh, we still use books, but the computers make it easier. We can set up our problems and push a few buttons, and it's much faster. We can write papers on the screen, and edit them, and print them out when they're all done."

  "Where do you get these devices?"

  "We make them. There are companies in California and Japan and all over. Where do you get your chips?"

  "They are ancient relics apparently deriving from some other Mode. We do not know their origin, only their power, and we understand only a little of that."

  "Gee—mysterious ancient otherworld science! I like it!"

  "You like everything. You are wonderful."

  She felt a warm thrill. When she was with him, that was the way she felt. If she could be with him forever, would she become normal? It was an intriguing notion.

  But there was business to handle. She had to go into some detail about exactly what problems and papers were, and how they were done with computers. Then they got down to the essence: "So the 186 chip addressed one megabyte RAM," she said. "One million bytes. Maybe 165,000 words if you used up all the space in writing a novel: one pretty solid book. But the software only addressed about two thirds of that, six hundred and forty kilobytes. Then the 286 chip addressed sixteen megabytes RAM, but the software was still limited to six forty K. So what was the point? They had to develop a new operating system to catch up with the hardware. The way I see it, the 186 was like a line: it did a lot, but was sort of limited. The 286 was like a square, adding a whole dimension to computing. Then the 386 was like a cube, because it addressed four thousand megabytes RAM and could do stuff the other chips only dreamed of. So it's the 86 series, with the numbers telling how many dimensions: one, two, or three. And then four, for the 486, and so on. But each one is based on just that key chip."

  "Dimensions," Darius said. "How many points does it take to establish a dimension?"

  "Huh? We were talking about computers!"

  "We were talking about an analogy. Chips, computers, and dimensions. In my reality, when we deal with a line, it requires two points to establish the orientation of that line. Is it the same here?"

  "Oh, sure. You can measure a line with two points, marking it off."

  "And three points for a plane? Defining it in space?"

  "You mean like balancing a tray on three fingers? Sure."

  "And four points for a three-dimensional object."

  "Sure, I'm with you. Length, width, thickness, and time, 'cause if it doesn't exist for some time, it's not there at all. What's your point?"

  "Five points for a four-dimensional Mode," he continued. "To fit it in space and time. The Cyng of Pwer mentioned that. The infinite number of Modes are each fixed in their own places, like planes in a cube, and one of these is mine and another is yours."

  "Oh, you mean like—like mica. That rock you can just peel apart?"

  "Mica," he agreed, after she had clarified the nature of the stone for him. "Each layer infinitely thin, but a universe to those who are of it. The Chip enabled me to cross vertically, from my layer to yours. Because it addresses many megabytes. But my finding you was essentially random, because there are only a few parameters we could specify, and infinity to choose from."

  "Gee, I wonder if it could set up a Virtual Mode?" she said musingly.

  "What is that?"

  "Well, I told you how each new chip addressed a whole lot more memory. But that's not the half of it. The 386 can extend that way beyond by making it seem that there's a lot more memory. There's not, really, but you can use it same as if it's real. Fake memory, I call it."

  "Pretend memory? But surely that would be a fantasy!"

  "No. Like when you have the disk drive, and it's too small for what you want to do, but you have a whole lot of memory, so you make up a virtual drive out of memory, and it acts just like a real disk. Or the other way around, making memory out of extra storage on your hard disk. When you turn off the computer, it's gone, but as long as you're running it, it works. Virtual memory is real, it just isn't quite what it seems. The 386 can make your memory act like sixty-four million megabytes, which is a lot. And it can set up a Virtual Mode too."

  "Tell me of modes."

  Colene had been privately convinced that he was crazy, but he now seemed more like an ignorant but smart person. Like someone who was from another reality. She began to doubt, and to believe, as she talked. "I don't remember all the computer modes; it's been a while since I had that class. I think there's Native Mode, that's sort of whatever the 386 chip would do if left to itself. Then there's Real Mode, used to run the regular AT software; it's limited, just sort of choking down the chip's potential to make it seem like a simpler one."

  "Like one slice of mica," he said.

  "Yes. And Protected Mode, used for the Operating System Two multi-tasking. That's like a three-dimensional chunk of mica. And Virtual Mode, that will take the chip as far as it will go; it can be set up any which way, and however it's set up, it acts just as if it's real."

  "With that we could institute a reality that included you with your science, and me with my magic, yet we would be together, neither giving up anything."

  "So it wouldn't have to be one or the other!" she agreed. "I'd like that, Darius! Then I could just walk across to you, and if I couldn't marry you, I'd just walk back to here."

  "A reality that consiste
d of a slanting place across the block of mica, permanently linking us," he agreed. "Unfortunately that is not what brought me here. I am a mere intruder into your reality, with no permanence. When I take you with me, you will be an intruder into my reality."

  She shrugged. "So I guess there's no way you can show me your reality, without my actually going there and not being able to return." A journey into madness?

  "I see I have not convinced you."

  "Right. That computer analogy is nice, but I never fooled myself that I can step into the picture on the screen. My reality is a lot uglier."

  "Ugly? But you are beautiful and cheerful!"

  She sighed. "Something you better know about me, Darius, before you marry me. I'm not happy. I'm suicidal."

  He was astonished. "You seek to destroy yourself? I can not believe—"

  "Believe it!" She began unwinding the bandage on her arm. "I slice my wrists and watch the blood. Someday I'll get up the courage to go all the way, and then I'll be free." She showed the inner padding, soaked in blood. "See this? This is how I got your key back for you. I challenged the punk who had it to a bleeding contest. He thought I was bluffing, but I wasn't. Freaked him out. So I won. If I had lost, I'd either be dead or as good as dead, paying off my bet."

  "You are depressed!" he exclaimed, horrified.

  "You bet! I think the only time I've been happy this year is when I've been with you. So I guess I'm crazy too. It's been fun dreaming of being in your world with its magic, and loving you, and I guess I do love you, but I don't believe you. It's my misfortune to be too firmly grounded in reality, and I don't mean your kind."

  "Oh, Colene, this is terrible!" he cried.

  "Why?"

  "Because it means I can't marry you."

  "Well, if you get treatment and get cured—"

  "Not so. If I take you to my reality, where joy can be transferred, you would have no joy to give me. You have the opposite. That makes it impossible."

  "You're changing your mind?" she asked. Her feelings were horribly mixed. She wanted to love him and have him love her, but she knew that marriage between them had always been an impossible dream. Now that he had his key, and his fantasy would soon be dashed, it was time to end it. But now she wished this sweet interlude could have been forever!

  "Colene, I love you, and I want nothing more than to bring you home and marry you! But that would destroy us both! I was willing to take you as long as there was a reasonable chance of it being right, but now I know there is not. I blinded my mind to one of the major possibilities for your availability, and that was my folly. My mission has failed. The kindest thing I can do for you is to leave you behind."

  So he knew the key wouldn't work, and was calling it off. That did make sense. It also meant he didn't have to make the deal, and go to a mental hospital when he failed to go where he thought he was going. He was defaulting, just as Biff had. Getting set up to walk out of her life when his bubble of illusion was popped.

  She felt the tears starting down her cheeks. "I guess you're right. I guess you'd better use your key now. You know where I am, if you ever change your mind." For now she did not have to disparage the fantasy; she could let him depart in his own way. It hurt terribly, but it was for the best.

  "If there were any way—"

  "If there were any way," she agreed.

  He came to her and kissed her, and it was excruciatingly sweet. It was like an old movie, with them parting at the train station, knowing they might never see each other again. Maybe that analogy wasn't so far off.

  "I can't even leave you anything, to repay you for your great kindness to me," he said. "It has been for nothing."

  "For nothing," she agreed. "But I really liked being with you, Darius. I'm sorry I can't believe in you. If I did, I'd go with you, even if you had to marry someone else."

  "I would not care to do that to you." He lifted the key to his forehead. "Farewell, Colene."

  "Goodbye, Darius."

  He closed his eyes, seeming to concentrate.

  Then he disappeared.

  Colene blinked her tears out of the way. She stepped forward and swept her hand through the space where he had stood. There was nothing except the faint smell of him; he had not been able to wash up well here.

  The door was closed. He had not walked out. He had just—gone. Exactly as he had said he would.

  Now she knew that she should have believed. She should have gone with him to his magic reality. Her disbelief had cost her everything.

  CHAPTER 4

  VIRTUAL MODE

  DARIUS looked around him. The familiar landscape of his home reality was newly unfamiliar, after his acclimation to the alternate reality. He gazed at it with a new appreciation.

  He stood on a dais, the one addressed by the Chip. One hop distant—or about twenty feet, in Colene's system—was the larger dais of the Cyng of Pwer. Between was the serrate wilderness: a land surface so jagged that it was not possible to walk on it. Only by pounding a temporary path through the crystals could it be made passable by foot, and that was pointless, because in days the crystals would regenerate, and their new, smaller spikes would be sharper than the old ones had been. Also, who would want to damage such prettiness? The original crystals were all the natural colors and some generated ones, shifting iridescently in the changing light of the sun.

  He glanced up. There were good cloud formations, pink above green and yellow. A heavy purple cloud was slowly descending, and below it the trees on their common dais were extending their black leaves, ready to draw nourishment. The light of the sun was refracting through a colorless cloud, its beams re-radiating out to be intercepted by the other clouds, each of which took its color from the color of the light it received.

  It was good to be home!

  A figure appeared on the main dais. The man spied Darius. He made a gesture, and a bridge appeared, spanning the ragged gap between them.

  Darius stepped onto the bridge, and felt his weight diminishing. It was what Colene would have called a virtual bridge: it acted like a real one, but it was mock. He was able to use it because his weight was being reduced almost to nothing. Pwer had simply invoked a miniature bridge with a figurine, and was marching the latter across the former. Darius had allowed him to make the figurine because it was essential to the process of traveling to another reality. Otherwise, the magic would not have had effect.

  He completed his crossing and stood before the Cyng of Pwer. "You return alone," the man said.

  "I found her," Darius said. "I love her. But I misjudged her. She was depressive."

  Pwer was startled. "How could you make an error like that?"

  "There is no transfer in her reality. I judged by appearances, not direct mental contact, and she laughed much. But it was because she liked me. Her contacts with me were limited, and her joy was limited to her time with me. Her underlying nature was suicidal."

  "Your power did not work there?"

  "Not at all. I thought it did when I kissed her and felt love, and she felt love, but it seems we were each generating our own in the company of the other. I was entirely dependent on verbal language. Much of my time was spent learning it, so that we could communicate. It was in that period of close association that we came to love each other."

  "You should have brought her."

  "I could not marry her! It would have killed her."

  "And what will she do, alone?"

  That made Darius pause. "She—she could kill herself."

  "Could? You fool! She surely will!"

  "We can't know that! Maybe her experience with me will change her outlook, and she will become less suicidal."

  "Unlikely, since she is slated to die anyway."

  "What?"

  "Don't you remember? Only those who are destined to have little effect on their realities can be removed from them. That is why the Chip oriented on her."

  "I know. Yet in her case, it seemed to me—" Darius shook his head. "I blinded myself."


  "The Chip was set to orient only on those whose impact is minimal. Some may have more impact by dying than by living. But in most cases, an early death best accounts for it. This may usually be by accident or disease, but it is evident that your young woman will soon kill herself."

  "I left her there, to do what she would, alone!" Darius cried, stricken. "I lost track entirely. I forgot the larger picture."

  "Whereas here she could have been with you, and at least died happy."

  "But she did not believe. She fetched me the key, but thought it was my fantasy. She did not want to commit to one she thought crazy."

  "She surely believes now."

  "Surely now," Darius agreed, crushed. "I should have insisted—but when I knew I could not marry her—"

  "Cyngs of Hlahtar do not remain functional indefinitely. You might have married her when you gave up the post."

  "I was a fool," Darius said.

  "Will you now settle to the normal course?"

  Darius thought of marrying a woman he did not love, instead of Colene. "I can not."

  "Or try the Chip again?"

  He thought of searching for another woman of a suitable nature to love and marry. "I can not."

  "Then it appears we have a problem."

  "There must be another way!" Darius exclaimed. "I must go to her again! She would come with me, now that she believes."

  "There is a way. But it is fraught with complication and danger."

  Darius grasped at it. "What way?"

  "Before, we set up the simplest connection between realities, as it were a line. It is possible to set up a more complicated connection, if more than one point is established, as it were a plane. The line could be flung out and recalled only once, but the plane would be more durable."

  "A Virtual Mode!" Darius breathed.

  "A what?"

  "A temporary Mode that crosses other Modes, like a block of mica sliced crosswise. It would be possible to walk from one part to another, from this Mode to her Mode."