First Contact is a multidimensional narrative connecting centuries, continents and sub/cultures, unravelling coincidences and conspiracies, computer viruses, and viruses which infect your mind. It details a kaleidoscope of revolutions and counter re...
SHE WAS SO VIRTUAL, I COULD ALMOST FEEL THE HUM OF THE UNIVERSE IN OUR EMBRACE AS WE TUMBLED, WEIGHTLESSLY, IN ENDLESS ECSTASY AROUND THE FLARING SUN. Nikolina, eyes of starfire, skin like shimmering nebulae... so precise, so astoundingly complete, how could you be an illusion? You must be real, I must believe this is more than an arcade game, that we're really here, locked, in stellar orbit. <<How can you doubt me now?>> she sighs, and as we climax the sun explodes and blows us into a million tingling pieces.
But when I wake, druggy and disoriented, I'm lying in a cold plastic vat... alone.
The reality of Interface.
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A BIT ABOUT ME, I GUESS: I work as a conceptual engineer for Utopian Fabrications (Un)Limited, designing accommodation nodules for the lower orbit colonies, and have a nice office overlooking Hokkaido. The pay's as good as can be expected these days but the work can get boring, except during Tuesday afternoon groupmind that is, when everyone to harness the collective ingenuity of UFU's 9000 employees everyone connects their brains to the central computer and interacts their ideas for increased productivity, dream marketing - sort of like a staff conference in cyberspace. Actually even this can get boring but afterwards, to repair brain cells possibly damaged by think-tank, smart drinks are served on the rainforest terrace and everyone gets the rest of the afternoon off.
<<I had the greatest VR last night>> I confessed to the boys during the recovery. <<I was piloting the space cruiser Yamato, transporting rare metals from the galatic rim. We were attacked by Romulans somewhere near the belt of Orion, and my ship was struck by a torpedo. The Yamato's hull was pierced, and I was sucked into space. I was floating there in the darkness, gasping and waiting to die, when... you should have seen her! the most beautiful girl I have ever seen came drifting past me. We embraced. It was so realistic, almost better than the real thing... I didn't want to come back.>>
<<You don't know what the real thing is like!>> Ryusei cracked, and the others started to laugh. <<All this cybersex shit is weird. Come out with me and I'll show you real women, and I promise it will be better than a machine pulling you off!>>
It was easy for him: he was tall, muscled, and funny. He did not know the pain of rejection. He went on to describe a recent business trip to Hanoi, tropical lust flowering in a technician's wardrobe. <<The best thing about real sex>> head cocked back, smiling boastfully <<the best thing about real sex is that when you up your pants and leave you know there is one more woman thinking about you... you've made an impression on her heart. What impact can you make on a machine?>>
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SO I WENT OUT WITH RYUSEI to the sleaziest club in town, looking for that elusive "real thing". Outer space was back in style again, after the long back to nature fad, and the club was full of retro spacesuits and diabolical aliens, Soviet cosmo-dogs dancing in awkward moon steps to minimalist pulses while their owners consumed fluorescent beverages like Liquid Oxygen (it wasn't really) and Big Bang (it was).
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