Terminal Connection (7 page)

Capture

“Technology, like all original creations of the human spirit, is unpredictable. If we had a reliable way to label our toys good or bad, it would be easy to regulate technology wisely. But we can rarely see far enough ahead to know which road leads to damnation. Whoever concerns himself with big technology, either to push forward or to stop it, is gambling in human lives.”

—Freeman J. Dyson, pacifist and former nuclear weapons designer, 1975.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

T
he alarm shrieked and tore Steve from his dream. His head throbbed in sync with the alarm. He rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. From the refrigerator he grabbed a two-liter 7-Up and from the top cabinet he pulled a bottle of scotch. Steve poured a glass of soda and added an ounce of scotch. Scotch was not meant to be an expensive soft drink, but the best cure for a hangover was more of the same.

“What’s this?”

He turned, glass in hand. With his body he hid the bottle of scotch.

Brooke glared at him from the kitchen table.

“Huh?” he took a sip. His gaze drifted to the floor.

She held up a scratchpad with Allison’s name and pager number on it. He set the glass aside on the counter. “Oh that. She’s a colleague, someone I work with.”

Brooke nodded as if she had something to say in the matter.

Steve smiled. “Did you finish your practice test?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Dad, it’s not like that. I need the Nexus. It’s just too hard with the Portal Sphere.”

“You know, when I was your age all we had was a word processor and a printer.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Old school.”

He laughed. “Old school? I made the Nexus.”

“Exactly. So what’s the problem, Dad?” Brooke glared at him.

Steve sighed. He would find the glitch soon enough. He had to. The Nexus Healer release was scheduled for next Monday. “I’ll tell you what. What if I can fix it by Sunday?”

“Really?”

Steve nodded.

“I guess that’s alright.”

He slipped the bottle of scotch back in the cabinet. “I won’t be back until late, so you’ll be on your own.”

Brooke rolled her wheelchair into the kitchen. “You forgot didn’t you?”

Steve placed the 7-Up back in the refrigerator and searched his Swiss-cheese-like memory for the reference but came up blank.

“Our weekly breakfast?”

“Oh that!” Last week he had taken Brooke to the Lake Forest Café, her mother’s favorite spot. Brooke had goaded him into promising to make it a weekly ritual, in honor of Tamara. Already, he had forgotten. “I’m sorry sweetie; something came up.”

“It always does.”

Steve sighed. “I’ll tell you what. Tonight, when I get back, no matter how late it is, we’ll go out on the town, just you and I.”

“Promise?”

“Scouts honor.” He gave a weak salute.

She laughed. “Yeah, like you were ever a boy scout.”

“I’ve got to run.”

Steve showered, threw on some jeans and a polo shirt, and gathered his gear into two large suitcases. Zipping them up, he dropped them on the floor.

Crunch.
Probably an old DVD.

His room looked like his office—a mess. He grabbed both the suitcases’ telescopic handles and dragged them toward the front door. One of the suitcases fell over and exposed a busted wheel. A long scratch in the hardwood floor stretched from his bedroom to the suitcase. Steve picked up the suitcases by their handles, groaned, and lugged them to the front door.

“You won’t forget, will you?” Brooke asked from behind him.

He put the suitcases down and faced her. Her large, blue eyes melted him. So much of Tamara was in her eyes and smile. He leaned down and hugged her. “Promise, sweetie,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too.”

He gave her one last squeeze before getting up, turned, grabbed his luggage, and left the house.

The spacious San Francisco International Airport terminal was almost deserted, no longer filled with angry mobs as they clamored for their tickets. Four years ago ten major airlines had serviced over twenty thousand customers a day. Since then, the industry had dwindled to just three airlines. They served less than one quarter that number. He walked past rows of empty counters that once housed airline stations.

It amazed Steve how quickly online commerce, virtual businesses, and virtual vacations had devastated the passenger airline industry. It took four short years. Worse, they didn’t see it coming. The Internet through VR did not appear that much different from the Internet with video conferencing; but it was. Although airplanes continued to fly, their cargo shifted from passengers to online commerce. Many shipping companies, such as Federal Express, UPS, and the U.S. Postal service, prospered as the distribution of goods was pushed out from stores to the consumer. The passenger airlines never thought of moving large scale into the shipping business until it was too late. The spacious but empty terminal served as a reminder of a more prosperous past.

Steve walked up to the first window. He followed the automated attendant’s instructions to check his bags. By sliding the expense card from Austin through a card scanner, it confirmed who he was and deducted almost nine hundred dollars from the account for the flight. Without competition, airline fares had skyrocketed.

After a half-hour wait, he boarded the plane with a few other passengers and soon was airborne. Rows of deserted houses and apartments in the dead suburbs passed beneath them. They circled over Burlingame, Steve’s old hometown. His dad still lived there.

Steve remembered coming home after he had signed the papers creating Nexus Corporation. As usual, his father, Steve Senior, was unhappy with his son’s decision. He thought Steve was taking too much of a gamble. Steve cut his stay short. They did not speak for sometime after.

The following year his father suffered an upset election. A competitor had developed a large campaign based in VR using the Portal Sphere. The numerous commentaries that followed pointed out his son’s involvement in VR. His father was portrayed as an inflexible bureaucrat of a bygone era. His father’s image and career never recovered. Neither did their relationship.

As the Portal Sphere gained in popularity, Steve pleaded with his father to move, but he refused to listen. Steve couldn’t blame his dad. How could he have known what was coming? At the time, it had sounded crazy even to Steve.

The changes started small. It seemed the Portal Sphere just provided an inexpensive and semi-portable access to the Internet. It shrank the computer screen, speakers, and microphone to simple headgear and placed its user inside each Internet site. Soon they added a body suit, which allowed movement around the virtual environment by walking on a universal treadmill. Alternatively, voice commands could be used to move about in VR.

Business executives realized the Portal Sphere’s potential. It could transport them anywhere, instantly. They could interact face to face in cyberspace and exchange ideas from all over the world. Travel constituted over half of an executive’s busy schedule. Now they could get twice the work done in a twelve-hour day. Further, most executives remained biased toward physical media—books and papers instead of Adobe or Word documents. In VR, their desire for the tangible was realized. They could flip pages and exchange the papers with one another in VR, instead of faxing or mailing physical copies. All the while these papers were virtual, a series of 0s and 1s on the hard drive of the VR server. As a result, they cut their carbon emissions and retained carbon credits for their respective companies. In short, they could cut their travel time to zero, remain green, and yet work the way in which they were accustomed.

Executives demanded the Portal Sphere as part of their sign-on contracts. Senior contractors and professionals followed. As more and more people purchased Portal Spheres, the price fell. Business owners soon saw another opportunity—the virtual building. Now, anyone could be anywhere, at anytime, even if that place didn’t exist physically.

These virtual buildings resided on the hard drives of VR servers and were much cheaper to construct and maintain than real buildings. Online business exploded as retail stores consolidated to virtual buildings with a transportation network and a warehouse. White-collar workers were moved from expensive metropolitan centers to online virtual buildings.

Even virtual factories became common. Lawsuits for on-the-job injuries and decreasing robotic costs fueled the transition. Blue-collar workers began remotely controlling machinery. This prevented injury and increased their legal working hours. Companies found that virtual reality even circumvented many of the government regulations and Union contracts.

Most employees, like the businesses they worked for, discovered that virtual reality was cheaper and more convenient than true reality. In the physical world, businesses and employees had to cluster around the same metropolitan areas, driving up real estate prices and commute times. The Portal Sphere changed these dynamics.

As the Portal Sphere dropped in price, people discovered that a large country estate and a Portal Sphere device cost the same as a small condo in a crime-ridden city. Further, commute time was non-existent. The VR user simply plugged into the Internet and within seconds appeared in her virtual office. Over the last decade, VR had transformed the business landscape. Now over a third of the country worked from these virtual offices.

Steve’s father had not listened to him and had paid a terrible price. His father had treated home equity as a piggy bank. He mortgaged his house to the hilt as real estate soared in the Bay Area. With the advent of VR, property values plummeted while his father’s mortgage payment remained the same. Worse, his father found it increasingly difficult to find work.

No longer viable as a political candidate, his father had switched to consulting, but his lack of VR experience made it difficult to get new clients who now hid within social media sites, meet-up groups, and other social structures that had not existed twenty years prior. Steve was not sure how his father would make it through the next couple of years. Steve tried, but his father refused his help.

“ … and bring your seat back to an upright position.” The stewardess’s voice awoke Steve. They landed at San Diego International Airport.

Once on the ground Steve found a taxi to take him to Carlsbad. Forty minutes later, they turned onto Del Oro Drive and pulled up to the Andersons’ home. Steve entered the crime scene through the open front door.

“Hello, Steve.”

Steve turned and saw Vinnie Russo, the man that had let the defect slip through.

“Pretty strange death, don’t you think? A young teenager dying of a seizure?” Vinnie mocked Steve.

“What do you care?” Steve responded.

Vinnie raised an eyebrow. Steve bit his lip, regretting his impulsive response. Vinnie had helped grease the wheels that got the Nexus released. He was not someone Steve should piss off. “Sorry.”

Vinnie nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay, I guess you know the drill. I’ve been assigned to this investigation. If you hear anything, call me immediately.” Vinnie handed him his business card. Surprised, Steve glanced at it. “Call me old fashioned,” Vinnie said with a shrug. Steve slipped it into his pocket as he entered the room where Camille had died.

The office was small, twelve feet by ten feet, decorated in neutral tones and beige carpet. The ivory curtains, highlighted with tawny lines, were pulled back, revealing a set of French doors. Sunlight streamed into the room, illuminating a contemporary teak desk, and behind the desk, a cream-colored leather chair. A chill ran down Steve’s spine.

It was the chair where Camille had died. All that remained of her was a blue chalk outline on the leather chair. The dead girl’s Nexus lay on the seat within the chalked lines.

This must never happen again.

Steve broke out a fiber cable. He plugged one end of the cable into the Nexus and the other into the back of his laptop.

While he downloaded the Site Log to his laptop, Steve checked his schedule. He was meeting Allison at noon online. It was 11:20. Once he downloaded the Site Log, he displayed it on the laptop. It listed the last thirty sites Camille had visited before she had died. Steve looked at the last four:

Fashion Island 06/09/20 08:12 - 09:01

The Outback 06/09/20 13:46 - 14:51

The Ritz 06/09/20 14:52 - 15:10

s#@~#d$f9e*r8& 06/09/20 15:10 - 15:32

That’s odd,
he thought. The last entry was garbled. It was just a random collection of letters, numbers, and symbols. He would take a closer look at it later.

The entry above it was clear: The Ritz. He was familiar with the site. It was a chat room. Another puzzle. The V-chip should have detected that Camille was a minor and prevented her from entering the site.

Steve double-checked the entry against the System Log. The log recorded that the girl’s mother, Dr. Ashley Anderson, had visited this site. He looked at the timestamp. It matched the estimated time of Camille’s death. Camille had used her mother’s identity. The V-chip would never have been activated.

He readjusted the laptop’s screen to reduce the sun’s glare and saw the reflection of someone standing behind him. He closed the laptop and turned. It was Vinnie.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry. Boredom does that to me,” Vinnie said.

Steve waited for Vinnie to walk away before he returned to his work. He downloaded the System Log and Core File. He glanced at his watch. It was 11:40.

He decided to take his work to a hotel. From there, he could get online and view the logs with Allison. Why rush? He had time.

J
eff and Sarah drew their weapons and approached the corridor. They had slipped past the sentry. This was despite the fact that Jeff had chosen a ten-foot-tall, reeking ogre with a twelve-foot-long pole-arm.

Sarah shook her head. She had chosen the more petite female high elf as her avatar. It gave her stealth and speed. She rested on her haunches, her sword held with a relaxed grip in her right hand. With her left hand, she wiped the virtual sweat from her brow. “This perspective is strange.”

“Would you rather do homework?” Jeff asked.

Visually, she was out of her body. Her perception floated ten feet above the ground. This part of the game she didn’t like, but she could live with it. The perk of hacking the other team to pieces made the game worth her time.

The flag room was a few feet ahead, within striking distance. She scratched her nose and rubbed the polished steel on the sword’s hilt with her thumb. She noticed her cleavage showed from this angle. Would Jeff miss that? Sure enough, Jeff’s gaze wandered in her direction. “Eyes in front, Jeff.”

Jeff muttered something she couldn’t hear, but he obeyed.

She had met him in Macroeconomics at the beginning of the quarter. Jeff snuck peeks now and again, but she didn’t mind. In fact, it was the only reason she let him hang around. Sarah understood obsession. These Thursday lunch hour adventures had displaced last quarter’s soap opera addiction. She checked the timer in the upper left-hand corner of her vision: two minutes. The rest of her team would make the first move.

“Die!” someone shouted. Metal bit metal inside the flag chamber.

“Now?” Jeff asked.

“Shh,” she whispered.

The fighting drew closer. A minute remained.
Close enough.
“Now!” she said.

They bolted down the short corridor. It opened up into a large cavern with a rough stone floor. At the threshold, they paused. Though their perspective was inside the cavern, they could not see themselves. A ledge of rock blocked their view. The plan had worked.

“The easy way or hard way?” she muttered. Sarah scanned the room. No flag was in sight.

“Jeff, do you see it?”

“No.”

“Okay. The hard way.”

As they had planned, the rest of their team maneuvered the enemy, a clan of eight humans, so that their backs were turned to Jeff and Sarah. They had lost two players in the process. The rest of their team faced two to one odds.

“Now,” she said.

Jeff stepped forward into a sweep of his sickle. He cut three humans in half and collapsed another.

She stepped over the collapsed man and cut another down with her sword. Sarah turned back to the collapsed man. He writhed on the ground, his leg amputated. She lunged and bumped into Jeff. Sarah stumbled. She regained her footing. Her elbow jabbed another member of her team. They were clumped together.

Fluid sprayed her arm. An empty flask tumbled from the collapsed man’s hand. She smelled the oil as one of his teammates dropped a torch.

Fire erupted all around them. Her arm was ablaze. She staggered back against the jagged stone wall of the cavern. Her arm left steaks of flame on the rock. The heat stung. At least it wouldn’t get any hotter. The Nexus was maxed out at its safety limits.

She dropped and rolled. Her arm continued to burn and left streaks of flaming oil on the dirt. The sweet stench of burning flesh grew stronger. It reminded her of barbecue. From above she watched as her character writhed in pain, unable to fight. Movement became harder. Her character froze.

“Your character is unconscious,” the disembodied voice of the computer announced to her on a private channel that only she could hear.

The elf was a stupid idea. She looked at the melee. Except for Jeff, all her teammates were either burned or dismembered beyond recognition. Jeff’s arm still burned, but the ogre fought unimpaired by the pain. Three humans remained.

She still had hope though. The humans all wielded long swords, which gave Jeff quite an advantage. The range of his twelve-foot pole-arm prevented them from getting close enough to strike. The three humans formed a circle around Jeff: to his left, his right, and behind him.

Jeff spun to bring the human behind him into view. The three rotated left and returned to the original formation. Again, someone was behind him.

Jeff was toast. They would lose. She had to help him. She tried to move but nothing happened. All she could do was watch her body burn.

“Your character is severely injured,” the detached voice informed her.

Sarah would be lucky if her character survived at all. Jeff had to win to save her. Jeff swung left, his arm extended. He lost his balance but managed to spill the opponent’s guts. The man fell to his knees. The other two men charged.

Jeff rolled and popped back up. He swung. His pole-arm decapitated the first man and the poll part of the weapon slammed into the side of the second. The force crushed the second man’s rib cage. He fell, dropped his sword, and grasped his side.

Jeff sauntered to the man and lifted the sickle high over his head. He grinned and displayed a large row of crooked, yellow teeth. Jeff slammed down the weapon and nailed him to the floor of the chamber. Only Jeff remained. His arm was charred, and he had a nasty gash on his left cheek, but other than that, he was fine.

Sarah’s character no longer burned, but was not doing well. “Come over here!” she shouted. But the site had muted her. Jeff could not hear her. She did not want to quit the game now. If she died, she would be out of the tournament for the rest of the week.

“Your character is nearing death,” the computer reported.

“Stupid elf. What a worthless race!” she shouted.

Jeff slung his pack down and extracted a metal flask. He uncorked it and poured the contents over his burned arm. He let out a scream as his skin foamed and a sweet smoke caressed it. After a few seconds, the smoke cleared. He extended his arm, rotated it, and flexed it several times. His arm was healed.

Come on!
She didn’t have much time.

Jeff lumbered toward her with the flask in his hand. He turned her over. His gaze followed her curves and settled on her chest.

She reached out to smack his face but her arm would not move.

His gaze flowed over her body. He examined her, almost groped her, but stopped himself.

He can’t be serious! I’m burned to a crisp!

Jeff stared at her.

Sarah did not want to exit the game, but she would if he tried anything. Later she would make him pay.

He rested there motionless for the longest time before he poured the contents of the flask over her right side.

A warm throbbing grew in her arm and hip. She could move and speak again. She cried out in mock pain.

He grinned as she opened her eyes.

She smiled back and then kneed him in the chin.

His character doubled over.

She laughed and got up. “Do that again and I’ll make a necklace out of your gonads.”

He groaned and sat up.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She whirled to see a dark figure approaching her. In slacks and a polo shirt, he was not dressed for the part.

She drew her sword. “Do you surrender?”

Jeff joined her. He bared his teeth and lifted the sickle high over his head.

“I’m Syzygy.” The man stared at the ground. They could not see his face.

“What did you say?” Jeff asked.

“Game over. All enemy players were eliminated. Please return to the lobby to receive your scores.” It was the computer who answered.

“Wrong game, bud,” Jeff said. He lowered his weapon, opened a portal, and stepped through to the lobby.

Sarah grabbed her sheathe with her free hand. Syzygy stared at her. It reminded her of Jeff. She smiled and leveled the sword at his throat. “Hey, buddy. You heard the ogre; you’re in the wrong game.”

Sarah watched in bewilderment as Syzygy pushed the sword aside and approached her character. Syzygy grabbed her waist and moved to kiss her.

“So long, jerk,” she whispered in his ear. She struck him hard in the small of his back with her sword, and he crumpled to the ground. She would let the coordinator know about him when she got to the lobby.

His sexual advances surprised her; this was not a meat market like the student union. Usually, this site was good about keeping out the degenerates. Well, that is, except for Jeff, of course. She turned and opened a portal.

From her aerial view she saw Syzygy leap up, grab her character from behind, and slam her body down. It knocked the wind out of her. Syzygy grabbed her head and slammed her face into the stone floor.

She couldn’t move.
Well, this is great
.

Syzygy groped her breasts.

“V-chip software online!” she yelled.

He stroked her neck.

“Nexus, exit.”

Nothing happened.

“Coordinator!”

Syzygy removed her character’s fur vest. Sarah felt his cold hands run across her chest. He pulled her left arm out of the vest.

“Nexus, exit!”

Nothing.

He removed her right arm from the vest. What was he going to do?

He tossed the vest aside, and her milky white breasts were exposed. His gaze lingered on her; but it wasn’t like what Jeff had done. Jeff just horsed around. This was different. She cringed. Her head felt warm, almost a burn. She screamed, and a portal opened.

“Sarah, what’s with you? It’s time to …” Jeff said.

Syzygy rose as Jeff lunged. In one quick movement, he swung his pole-arm and cut Syzygy in half. Syzygy’s torso and head flew across the room and slammed into the wall. Jeff grabbed Sarah and stepped back through the still open portal.

They burst into the crowded lobby. Jeff toppled over her. Old gnarled trees surrounded a meadow spattered with flowers. The crowd of people watched a levitating score board as they awaited their scores. Several of them gawked at the couple.

Sarah’s voice had returned. She could move. Her perspective no longer floated above her character. She saw through its eyes.

Jeff’s face expressed concern.

She hugged his neck and cried. Sobs racked her body. “I couldn’t move. I couldn’t talk. All I could do was watch.”

Jeff took off his fur coat and covered her exposed chest. “How did he do it?”

She shook her head. Sarah didn’t know.

Richard, Site Administrator of Fantasy Central, watched two teenagers tumble into the forest. He frowned. Just out of college himself, he was still familiar with teenage antics such as this. Richard straightened his wizard’s hat and walked to them. “Is there some sort of problem here?” he asked.

“Damn right there’s a problem! Sarah was attacked. What kind of site are you running here?” Jeff said.

Richard bit his lip. He contorted his face into a practiced mask of concern. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“A man attacked me. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t move. I tried to open a portal, but it didn’t work. I tried to exit, but I couldn’t. I called you, but you didn’t come. Why didn’t you come?” asked Sarah.

“Calm down.” Richard scanned the gathering crowd. He turned back to Sarah. “Let me take you to some place where we can work this all out.”

A portal opened and they stepped through into Richard’s virtual office. Richard sat down behind his desk. He took off his tall pointy hat and set it aside. “You could not move or talk, and someone attacked you?”

She nodded.

“He didn’t say who he was, did he?”

Sarah nodded.

“And it was …” Richard asked.

“Listen, dick. Give her space!” Jeff snapped.

The administrator bit his lip and restrained a knee-jerk response. “Please call me Richard.”

Sarah turned to Jeff. “Do you remember his name?”

“I don’t know. I think it was Seery, Seally, or something like that.”

“That’s it! His name was siz-uh-gee,” Sarah said.

“Why didn’t you call on me?” Richard asked.

“I already told you! I did!”

That was impossible. Nothing could override the safety protocols built into the Nexus. Richard pulled out a form from the desk and filled in a couple of the blanks. He looked up. “What was his name again?”

“Syzygy!” Jeff and Sarah said in unison.

Richard set the form aside and pressed an intercom on his virtual desk. “Sam, I need you in here.” Richard had just started two months prior. He monitored the site and handled the day-to-day affairs; but this was serious. He could tell a lawsuit was looming. Better to call the boss.

Sam materialized and stood next to Richard.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

Richard briefed Sam on what they had told him. When he was done, Sam told Sarah, “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure nothing like this will happen again.”

“You’ll call DARPA, right?” Sarah asked.

“Guaranteed! No one wants to get rid of these freaks more than I do. It’s horrible what happened to you. I left my old job because of stress like this. I went into this business to help people have fun. In fact, I think you and your friend here are entitled to a free month of gaming. Let’s say a one-month pass. What do you say?”

“You’ll tell them that I couldn’t exit the Nexus or contact the coordinator?” Sarah pressed.

Sam winked at Richard. “Of course. Really, don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.” With that, Sam opened a portal back to the lobby for them.

They stepped toward the portal. Sarah turned back to Sam. “I have your word, right?”

“I will contact DARPA right now. I promise.”

They left through the portal. It closed behind them.

Richard turned to Sam. “How do I report this? Do we have a contact site we go through?”

Sam put his hands on his hips and gave Richard a funny look. “Oh yeah, sure.”

“Well, what’s its name?”

“You’re serious, Rich, aren’t you? Sure, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll just contact DARPA.”

Richard blinked.

“Think, Rich! It’ll be open season for the bureaucrats. DARPA will shut us down and spend the next year stalling, asking us the same questions over and over again until we’re out of business.”

“But you promised …”

“I told the customers what they wanted to hear. I gave them a free month’s worth of games didn’t I?” Sam poked Richard’s chest with a meaty finger.

Richard frowned.