Alice in Virtuality (4 page)

"They like making an entrance don't they," said to Alice. "Go get em tiger."

He equipped his weapons, but stopped short of charging as he watched the show before him. The mage seemed to phase apart into red, blue and yellow copies. All three pointed staffs and beams of colour shot forth. Martin's shield wouldn't cover him from all angles. He jumped into the air. The beams coalesced beneath him in a ball of burning white plasma. He was dropping into it. Putting the shield under his feet, it was squashed beneath as he landed.

"Check your belt," said Alice.

"Oh yes!" he said.

A spinning disc of blades flew through the air. The heads popped off the magi like champagne corks, one after another. The decapitated statues shook for a moment and then collapsed to the floor like deflated balloons.

"Nice effect," said Alice.

"Yeah, but this is a bit tedious. I never even get grazed. And all this paperwork, what's that all about?"

"Forget the paperwork then, let's just kill things!"

"Err, I beg and grovel for your attention please your majestic majesterium." The advisor appeared to have recovered his composure, to a servile extent of course.

"The paperwork is what makes your empire work. Without it there would be chaos." he added, bowing.

"Yes!" said Alice.

Martin pondered a moment, he didn't want the game ruined.

"Your court comes to session in a moment, highest of the high." The advisor sank low and ushered discreetly to the door.

"Yes. Ok." said Martin.

Alice tutted.

The great doors opened to a fanfare of what sounded like a thousand horns at once. There was. Every person occupying the great hall had a candy striped horn to their lips. Martin entered as the cacophony continued. The advisor held up a sign. 'They aren't allowed to stop until you sit' it read. Martin took to his throne.

In the resulting silence, the advisor pronounced for all to hear, "Let court begin!"

Everyone began speaking at once. Arguing neighbours began to fight. Flashes of spells went off here and there. Another queue had formed by two guards near Martin. Assuming this was similar to the one he had seen earlier, he got up to put a stop to things. As he did the ground began to shake. The noise of court was replaced by the deafening crunching of the stone floor cracking, opening. The point of a hat appeared in the rift. It continued to reveal itself growing very large. It was followed by the giant mage that was wearing it, climbing out of his self styled entrance. It looked directly at Martin and its face crinkled into a giant evil grin. Martin had had enough.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted.

The large jewel on his crown began to glow. There was an all encompassing flash. Everyone was gone.

"Nice one," said Alice. "I wondered how long you were going put up with all this rubbish."

"Where are they?" Martin said.

"You have killed them all. Wiped. Deleted. Terminated."

He looked around. He and Alice were the only ones left in the huge room. The golden, towering pillars were still there, but the splendour seemed to have gone. Silence. Although those pestering characters had driven him to obliteration, without them it was empty. They were the life of this world, its reason. It was an unusual insight for Martin.

"Wheeee!" Alice flew around his head in spinning circles clapping with delight.

"Yes, yes, yes. That was truly glorious Martin. More, more, more. We can go out on your dragon and wreak carnage across the entire world! No one will be safe from your wrath. You will be terrible and magnificent!"

Martin switched off the computer and sat looking at the blackness of the screen.

The next day he got up late. Gavin's gift. He was troubled by the destruction of the fantasy world, what he had done wasn't fair. It wouldn't do any lasting damage, death wasn't a permanent condition in these games, but he had stopped their play because he had had enough and thought that was selfish. With this, the strangeness of Alice and the worry of his future trial by presentation, he felt very unsettled. The computer stayed off. Perhaps it was good that the party was tonight. Deciding to go for a walk to fill in the time before getting ready, he began to think about who he was and where his life was going.

His mother played the host superbly, flitting around the room ensuring everyone was comfortable and occupied. She knew Martin would have to be left to his own speed, forcing an introduction could be fatal.

"Don't be all grouchy now lovely. If you want to join in please ask." She touched his shoulder gently and returned to her guests.

Left on the sidelines, Martin observed, his only resource to pleasure in such an environment, often putting people into categories, confident his deductions were accurate. Looking at a couple in one corner of the room, he assessed them to be a successful business man and his wife. They dressed in self appointed robes of office, the sharp suit and the black evening dress. An outdoors sort in jeans attended them, laughing heartily at what, Martin guessed, were his own jokes. The royalty looked on unamused. A rather weedy man with glasses stood slightly stooped in front of a tall, beautiful, pale woman in a white gown. The man didn't look at her as he talked. Her head turned. She caught Martin's eye and smiled. Martin looked away quickly, flustered.

He moved a few paces until a group of eight people, who were standing in a circle in the middle of the room, blocked the white ladies line of sight. The well dressed group all seemed to be talking at once. None of them could have been listening. Martin watched them for a while, fascinated. 'What was the point? They might as well talk to themselves like he did,' he thought and chuckled.

His amusement stopped. Memories of efforts to participate in conversation came to mind. A word from him and talking would stall. Eyes would look down. Another's voice would enter quickly to break the embarrassing silence with a comment that appeared to be of the greatest possible interest to all present. He felt confused and couldn't criticise the outside world tonight. He wouldn't have come but he knew mother would worry. There was no where here for him to hide. Finishing his drink he headed for the door.

"Martin... Martin!" his mother called.

Holding up an empty glass and smiling, he implied he was going to refresh his drink. She looked concerned, but nodded and turned back to a guest. Martin walked down the hall, but didn't leave. He didn't go to the kitchen to get another drink. Something drew him to walk an old path up the stairs to his bedroom, his former universe for one. All of his stuff remained untouched. The house was huge and his mother had no need to refurbish. He thought it might have been deliberate on her part.

The bedroom was a playground for an active mind. A microscope sat on a writing bureau filled with scribbled notes and inventive drawings. In the corner was a long workbench. Soldering iron burn marks recalled electronics experiments which promised more than they delivered. Globs of hardened glue remained immovable. Remnants from the construction of model aircraft and spaceships. The results were now frozen in space on threads from the ceiling. Martin pictured himself working feverishly on a project here, a project there. Completely absorbed and removed from the world.

A bookcase was filled with books on science, mathematics, some classics, science fiction and fantasy. The name Alice caught his eye from the spine of one. It was Alice Through the Looking Glass. He flicked through the pages idly. Picking up his Apollo 11 model rocket, memories of days of painstaking precision construction returned. He flopped onto the bed, holding it up in mock flight. He wanted to see it again floating in space, to be completely lost in the world in his head, like he used to. His hand dropped listlessly to his waist as he stared blankly upwards.

There was the gentlest of taps at the door and it opened slowly.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course mother"

His tone was inviting, even if the words left something to be desired. Continuing to lie staring upward, he felt her sit beside him on the bed and turned his gaze to meet her eyes. He was a little boy again, lost and alone. She began to speak.

"You used to look up at me like that when I read stories to you. Those big eyes, that big brain, sucking it all in. You held my hand to keep me here and I couldn't leave until I felt its grip go loose."

A tear rolled from her eye but she continued to smile.

"You know, you didn't have it easy when you were younger Martin. We knew you were different, but not so much you couldn't get along. You were so good at your studies. You found other things hard though. We didn't know what to do. I think when Father died we both hid in our own opposite ways. You stopped talking, and I talked and talked and talked. We lost each other." She paused.

"I want to know if you are ok," she said looking at him seriously, her constant smile removed.

He put his hand out to hers and gripped it tight.

"Happy Birthday Mother."

Back from the party he felt stronger. Unwittingly, he dropped back to his routine, coat to couch, computer on. As it powered up he looked around the room. It was truly disgusting. He went to the kitchen and dug around in the back of the cupboard. Emerging, he caught his reflection in the mirror and laughed as he stood there in marigold gauntlets, a hand cloth shield and a deadly all purpose cleaning spray of the gods. He began to tidy and clean around the living room.

"Martin. What are you doing Martin?" It was Alice. He hadn't put her on auto-start but nothing surprised him now.

"I thought you were clever Alice, can't you see?" he replied without turning round to acknowledge her.

"You will never speak to me like that. Ever!"

He turned, shocked. The volume had gone up to maximum. He thought he saw her face change for the briefest of moments. There were the same features as before but burning red. In a blink it was gone. Alice smiled.

"Come on now boring, lets find something more interesting to do." The volume and her tone had returned to its normal allure.

"No, I am going to clean up." His resolve was strong and he turned back to his work, avoiding looking at the coercing beauty.

"When we could be playing games. What a bore." The comment was a school yard taunt. She yawned.

"I am off to have fun! Bye boring." she added.

When Martin looked again the program had terminated. He worked into the night, logically thorough in this job as he was with all things. First light fused into the sky as he sat on the couch surveying his completed work.

Waking just before midday, he felt refreshed despite the scant hours sleep. He ran a bath in his sparkling bathroom. A bright noon sun shone through the steam as he lay in the bubbles and soaked. The rainbow light caught in one and brought a smile. Clean to match his flat, Martin thought about the party. He knew that his antagonism with people was mainly defensive. His dreams were filled with scenes where he was popular, chatting and laughing with old friends. There were virtual worlds where people went to talk, not to fight. Maybe they could help him learn to cope in the real world?

He sat down at the computer and up popped Alice.

"It's a bit bright in here." Alice squinted.

The curtains were open and sunlight streamed in. Martin liked his newly found order illuminated, but it was interfering with the display. He got up and closed the heavy curtains, deliberately designed to maintain perpetual night.

"That's better lovely boy," Alice said.

Martin took it that Alice had listened in to his mother's conversation. She really was getting on his nerves. He said nothing and began searching for a suitable virtual world.

"What are you doing? You don't need to waste your time searching for anything with me here. What did you want to play today?"

"I was looking for a social environment," he replied reluctantly.

"I will do that for you. Fy pleser," said Alice in a perky tone.

"Pardon?

Oh, don't worry. One of my recent connections wanted me to learn some Welsh.

An image filled the centre screen. The camera was on a fly-by of what looked something like a very large open-air park. People were in groups everywhere, particularly in a central paved area.

"That bit in the middle is MeetCentral Martin," said Alice, "but first we have to get you dressed for the part."

Just the sight of the social activity made Martin feel apprehensive. Comforted Alice was helping him, he ignored her recent behaviour for the moment. The park was replaced with a changing room. Alice stood there dressed in white. Beside her an undressed avatar looking like a showroom dummy, no hair and generic features. Alice put her hand to her chin as she looked at the figure that would become Martin in this world.

"Well, we will skip the anatomy for now I think. Let's concentrate on the face."

The screen zoomed in.

"What do you think Martin? Rough and rugged? Artistic?" Alice asked.

"Can we just make it look like me? Maybe on a good day." Martin suggested, not confident with this activity.

"I think that would do nicely."

The face became a good rendition of Martin's features, hair neat and tidy. He thought he didn't scrub up too bad.

"Now, I thought this attire would be suitable." Alice chuckled as the display changed to reveal the avatar in a Superman costume.

"Very good, but I prefer Batman," said Martin, joining in with the joke.

"How about this?" A gansta rapper covered in bling.

"I think not."

"Hmmmm. Voila!" She snapped her fingers.

A dinner suit James Bond would have been proud of. Martin didn't really do smart but, thinking that this is what impressed people, decided it was good choice.

"I'll go with that."

"Your audience awaits Sir."

Alice gestured to a door at the side of the room. Martin took a deep breath and moved his new persona through it.

So many people. They clustered, they wandered, they ran, jumped and danced. If there had been voice interaction on this site it would have been deafening. Martin estimated he was floating perhaps two hundred feet above the crowds. Their behaviour seemed to form patterns. The groups had gravity's that attracted more members. A critical limit was reached and sections broke off. Rogue players skittered around with manic energy. Copycats split from their congregations, perhaps thinking that bouncing around looked fun. Martin would have liked to have worked out the equations for this system.