Virtuality - (Chapter 2-3)

Chapter Two

         Lucia increased the speed on the running machine and upped the volume on the stereo.  It sputtered nosily before falling into a static-interrupted rhythm.  As soon as she could afford it, she was getting one of those nuclear-cell ones, the electricity supply around here was so erratic.   
         Struggling to keep pace with the machine, she was almost relieved when the buzzer to her apartment sounded.  Wiping the sweat from her forehead with a towel, she made her way over to the door and switched on the seeing-eye camera, causing a fuzzy image to appear on the screen. 
         “A little early to be making house calls isn’t it?”  Recognising the visitor, she used the remote server to open the buildings main doors.   
         “Let me in if your beautiful and want me.” Troy’s voice came floating over the intercom.
         “The door’s already open genius-I’ll see you when you get here.”
Lucia had just enough time for a quick shower and change of clothes before there was a rap at her door.  Pressing her thumb to the key-panel, the doors grudgingly slid apart before coming to a sharp halt half way through.  A quick kick to the bottom sensor saw them shoot the rest of the way.
         “You really need a new apartment,” Troy leaned casually against the doorframe, “You know it took almost fifteen minutes in your elevator to make it to the 2086th floor?”
         “Well, until The University starts paying me more, I’m afraid I’m stuck here.” Lucia stepped aside to allow Troy to enter.
         Walking into the living room, a blast of cold air hit him violently in the face, sending goose bumps across his body.
         “Jeez, what’s up with your thermostat?”  Troy stretched himself out on Lucia’s synthesised leather couch. 
         “Oh, it’s on the blink again.”  Lucia dragged a chair over to the main control panel on the ceiling and started pushing random buttons until lukewarm gusts of air began to fill the room. “I keep meaning to get it replaced, but something else always seems to come up.” 
         “It’s like I always say-you need a man around here for these things.”
Jumping down from the chair, Lucia gave him a sarcastic smile.
         “If you know any decent ones, give them my number.”
Walking over to the kitchen, she began to gather together some mugs and turned on the coffee maker.
         “One of these days your oxygen generator’s gonna fail, then where will you be?”  Troy called out from living room.
         Rooting around in the cupboard for the coffee, she ignored the comment.
         “Is there actually a purpose to this unexpected visit? Hmm….I’ve only got artificial coffee. Will that do?” Troy grimaced.
         “Can’t be any worse than what I had at The Institute this morning.” 
Lucia gave him a surprised look.
         “You were at The Institute?”
         “Yeah, that’s actually the purpose of my visit.  Mayor Macnarlye was killed in The Game last night.” Troy’s voice had become deadly serious.
         “You mean he died in The Game?” Lucia handed Troy a steaming cup of coffee and settled down into an overstuffed armchair. 
         “No, someone actually got into The Game and killed him, in The Game. Thing is, he actually died.  Stabbed or something. Not got any milk in?”  Troy took some tentative sips of his coffee.
         “Do you have any idea how much milk costs nowadays? So, wait…are you saying he was murdered while he was playing The Game?” Lucia’s face was incredulous. 
         “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
         Lucia stared at him for several long minutes before shaking her head.
         ‘No, no….that’s not possible. You can’t hurt, or be hurt, inside The Game. It’s one of the basic principles of the programming.”
         Appraising her with his eyes, Troy leaned back into the couch. 
         “Well, somebody’s obviously found a way.”
Lost for words, Lucia began to drink from her own mug.   
         “Wow, I ain’t never playing The Game again….so, what exactly does this have to do with you?”
         Troy’s cheeky smile returned.
         “I’ve been tasked by The Institute to find out what went wrong and to fix it.”
         “And what does this have to do with me?”
         Troy’s smile widened.
         “Well, as amazing as I am, I can’t be expected to do everything alone.  I’m putting together a team, best in the field.  Hence, my visit here. I need your particular expertise to assist me. So, you up for it? The Institute’s paying.” 
         Lucia returned her and Troy’s empty mugs to the kitchen.
         “I don’t know Troy…I’ve got loads of work on at The University.  I’m helping design this translator for some ancient language, um…Chinese or something…this all sounds a bit complex.”
         “Come on Lu,” Troy joined her in the kitchen, “I need you on this one. Besides, it’s not gonna take long. The Institute just wants to do some damage control before this goes public.”
         Lucia contemplated Troy’s pleading look before mentally caving in.
         “Fine, you got me.” Lucia placed the mugs into the sanitiser before smiling slowly “But we need to get Jun and Mackie in on this as well.”
         Troy grinned satisfactorily at his victory.
         “Already ahead of you babe.” 

Chapter Three

         The University jutted sharply through the hazy morning skyline, looming over the city below like a gigantic glass dragon ready to devour all who ventured to close.  Spanning all of two cubic miles, the white washed walls and gleaming windows presented the observer with a unified impression of both fear and awe, while the mechanised pathways and stairs, ferrying dozens of drones across vast expanses and up hundreds of storeys, created the image of perfect efficiency and organisation, which contrasted harshly with the chaos that lay scattered around it’s feet.
         Unlike centuries past, when it was common practice for even the lowliest of the educated classes to attend a university, nowadays only the truly gifted and talented would be offered that opportunity.  With a high percentage of the world’s cities laying in tatters, most further education establishments had long since been converted into far more ‘useful’ operations.  Hence the one and only university that now survived, dominating the skyline of the remains of New York City.
         With places scarce, and a desperate shortage of skills needed to rebuild what was left of the Earth, gone were the days when an academic could while away the hours contemplating the early works of Keats, or discuss the stylistic differences between Cezanne and Degas, or construct post-modern, minimalist dinning room furniture from recycled bottle caps.  The world of education now belonged to the scientist, the engineer, the computer programmer-and all manner of other, valid, professions. 
         In was in this capacity that Junnakey Argot found himself that morning, as he rode the escalator up to the 158th floor.  His collar felt tight against his neck and he could sense beads of sweat forming under his suit jacket.  Loosening his tie, he mentally ran over his to-do list for that day, and gracefully stepped off the rolling stairs into a long, straight corridor.  Everyone walked quickly but unhurriedly, barley acknowledging each other’s presence as they went to and fro to their various important engagements. 
         Junnakey continued his steady pace, passing several steel doors that would occasionally whoosh open and release another body into the corridor.  Finally, he reached his destination, signalled by a holographic sign on the door that proudly proclaimed…
Department of Neuro-Cybertronics

Combining the disciplines of neuroscience, robotics and the ‘cyber’ world, and marrying them into some of the most revolutionary inventitions of the century, the department had been the birthplace of the first artificial ‘human brain’, mind-controlled replacement limbs for amputees, and of course the most important invention of all….The Game.          
          At the age of twenty-five, Junnakey was one of the youngest assistant professors in the department, and as such had one of the smallest offices.  Squeezing past banks of computers and LCD monitors, he fought his way to the desk that lay strewn with papers and computer disks in all directions.  He settled himself in his chair and was about to order some coffee when his virtual secretary popped up onto his computer screen.
         “Good morning Mr Argot. You have a visitor.”  The overly cheery voice was too loud for such a small room.
         Junnakey glanced at the clock on his wall….
         “Who is it?”
         The female, computer image paused briefly.
         “It is a Mr…Troy.”
         Great! Just what I need….Junnakey rocked back on his chair and addressed his computer screen. 
         “Ok, let him in.”  The image on the screen nodded before disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. 
         Grabbing the top file on his urgent tray, which seemed to grow larger everyday, Junnakey hardly noticed the door slide quietly open and the figure enter the room.
         “This place is working you hard, it’s not even 8.30.”
Junnakey swivelled around in his chair to face his old friend who lounged lazily against the computer banks. 
         “Well, some of us would like to make Professor one day.”
Pulling up a spare chair, Troy laughed as he seated himself.
         “The rate you’re going, you’ll be running this department in a year….and I have just the thing that would help that along.”
         Junnakey instantly recognised the expression and tone of voice Troy used when he was looking for a favour.  Swinging back round to his desk, he began to sift through some scattered papers. 
         “Troy, I’m busy…is this actually important?”
         “If you must know, I was sent by The Institute, and yes, it’s very important.”
         Junnakey eyed him suspiciously but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. 
         “What do you want Troy?”
         A brief repeat of the conversation that had taken place earlier with Lucia followed, with Junnakey equally as astonished as she had been.  Shaking his head, he spoke more to himself than to Troy.
         “How has The Institute kept this quiet?”
Troy shrugged his shoulders,
         “It won’t stay quiet for long-that’s why we need to work quickly.”
Junnakey glanced at his friend in surprise.
         “We?”
Troy nodded emphatically,
         “I’ve been tasked with finding out what’s gone wrong with The Game-the police will deal with the actual murder stuff-we just need to make sure it can’t happen again.”  At his use of the word ‘we’ again, Junnakey raised his eyebrows. “I’ve already rounded up Mackie and Lucia…but we need you on this if we’re gonna stand any chance of figuring this thing out.”
         Junnakey turned around and shook his head,
         “No way Troy, this sounds far too messed up.  And what if we do find something wrong with The Game….I can kiss my position here goodbye if I’m one of the people who bring The Game down.”
           “That’s not gonna happen Jun, we just need to get in their, smooth out a few kinks, and get back out again-48 hours top.  Think what an accolade it would be to say you were one of the people who saved The Game.”  Troy had an expert way of getting around people, but Junnakey had known him for too long.  It could easily go either way…
         Junnakey was truly struggling with his decision; the outcome could potentially make or break his career. 
         “I’ll do it….on one condition.”
Troy threw his hands up into the air.
         “Anything.”
         “If this thing starts to get too dangerous-or my job here is threatened-I pull out, no questions asked.”
         Troy stuck out his hand.
         “Deal.”
         After shaking his friend’s hand briefly, Troy headed back towards the door.
         “I’ll meet you at The Institute, I’m gonna go round up the troops. Say, ten o’clock?  Will that give you enough time to clear this with your superiors?”
         “If the orders from The Institute, they can hardly say no can they?”
Troy gave one of his usual charismatic smiles as he headed out the door, leaving these parting words before he was out of earshot.
         “See you later my friend, you won’t regret this.”
         Junnakey had a feeling he would.