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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #1930286
Trying out the latest in out-of-body experiences when something goes horribly wrong.
This choice: An administrator (God) of a number of simulations  •  Go Back...
Chapter #2

26 and working in a cyber cafe

    by: Yote Author IconMail Icon
Your name is Kal Luthor Kensington, an unfortunate consequence of having two comic book geeks for parents. You're twenty-six years old, a little doughy around the middle, with thin, receding hair. You work at The Escapist, a small comic-store-cum-cyber-cafe situated on the edge of the university campus in a trendy part of town.

The Escapist was established before you were born by your parents and though they technically still own it, they're rarely around these days - not mentally anyway - so you practically run the place yourself. The first floor is given over solely to comics, and had been your father's domain while he was still around - he was the biggest, most-insufferable nerd. Ground floor sells coffee and tea and cakes and is home to a collection of soft, chintzy sofas and chairs that your mother lovingly put together over the years. That woman had a taste - or a lack of it - all her own.

The basement is yours. Seven months ago, at your parent's behest, you'd taken charge of the cyber half of the cyber-cafe, renovating the basement by stripping out the ancient, obsolete computers and installing shiny new servers powerful enough to run virtual environments, along with two dozens bunks on which customers could recline while their minds sampled the simulated worlds.

It hadn't been cheap by any means, but it had proven popular, not least by your parents. They took full advantage of owning their own VR suite to enjoy a sort of early retirement, uploading their minds into the servers to exist in whatever simulations were running, living in the identities of the NPCs. It's been four months since you spoke to them last. Since their insertion they've gained an almost legendary reputation among the customers for their rare but memorable appearances. Usually they just live in the background, playing out their parts. Both had been avid roleplayers in their time and this suited them down to the ground.

You still see them in a sense. Their physical bodies have been fitted with simple Bodyguard personalities and still work in the shop where you can keep an eye on them, performing any tasks simple enough for the crude AI in their brains to comprehend. The amount of dumb crap they get up to on a daily basis never fails to brighten up your day. They keep the shop tidy and themselves physically active, cqretakers waiting for the day when their body's original owners return from simulation, should that day ever come at all. Judging by how comfortable your parents have become in their virtual existence, it is starting toolk unlikely that they'll ever return. Considering how much money you're raking it from their cafe, that might not be such a bad thing.

On this particular day, the business is doing well. The wet weather has driven customers off the streets into the VR suite where they can experience any weather they desire. Furthermore it's end-of-year exams and students have packed the place, dosing themselves up on large amounts of caffeine before diving into time-dilated edutainment sims to cram revision.

The bell above the door rings. It's a student, a stack of heavy textbooks held in her arms. Her auburn hair is all over the place and she looks manic, strung out, almost close-to-tears. She stands at the counter as you prepare some guy's cappuccino, and you watch her growing increasingly agitated as you carefully draw a triforce in the milk foam. As you cross the counter to give the guy his drink,, she grabs your arm. "I need more time! I have an exam in, like, two hours. Please, you have to give me more time!"

"Bunks are ten dollars an hour to rent," you reply. "If you want time-dilation, it's five dollars extra for each additional hour, so times two is fifteen, times three is twenty, and so on." Judging by the textbooks, the jittery nerves, and the way she throws wads of cash at you, you're thinking medical student. She buys one hour on a bunk at x200 dilation, which you generous round down to a nice $1000. Easiest money you ever made. If this keeps up, you might have to look into expanding the basement, perhaps buy some more sims. Your parents would love that.

You show her down into the VR suite. They call it the blue room for the flickering glow of the blue LEDs that adorn the computer banks that sit against one wall behind their protective glass. Other than their illumination, the room is kept dark. Almost all the bunks are occupied with limp bodies laid out on the soft foam mattresses, their faces obscured by visors, their mouths open and drooling. She climbs into one of the two empty bunks and you key in the details in the display beside it.

"One hour at x200. You'll want the library sim - it should have all the books you need. There's a few students in there already so at least you'll have company. If you need any help, there are terminals dotted around the sim that will send an alarm to me. Press any one of those and I'll come sort you out. Okay? See you in 8 days," you say. She secures the visor over her head and you engage the sim with a press of a button. Easiest '1k you ever made.

You take a minute just to check on the server vitals. Finding everything ticking over nicely, you head for the stairs that will take you back up to the cafe. As you do, the alarm begins to bleep. Somebody in one of the simulations is requesting assistance. It is...
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