Reality Hack (21 page)

The pain in her head was sudden and intense. She thought she heard Kellog yell something, maybe ‘get back,’ but she was momentarily paralysed by the overwhelming sense of magic. Something like a strong electric current washed over her skin and her muscles tensed, and the pain grew to unbearable levels…

Part Six: The Real World

Bloomsbury, London, November 15
^th
, 2036.

‘Man, I never thought she’d get nailed by the Glitch in the drug lab.’

Nisa heard the voice and struggled to figure out what she was hearing, and who. And while she was at it, where the fuck she was. It had sounded a little like Alexander Maxim, but somehow not.

‘Twenty quid.’ That voice was Norbery’s. ‘I called it.’

‘Be quiet, the both of you.’ Kellog? ‘She’s coming around.’

Nisa’s eyes flickered open and she looked up at a ring of expectant faces. She recognised all of them, but somehow they were not the same people. Kellog was smiling at her. Maxim was also smiling, but he looked all wrong in a band T-shirt and torn jeans. Norbery looked about the same, but there was no wedding ring on his finger. Sandra seemed about the same, down to a white dress which looked like a nurse’s uniform, and she was checking displays on…

Tilting her head back, Nisa could see the huge machine behind her. It was, as best she could tell, some sort of computer system with a tunnel built into it a bit like you saw on an MRI machine. The technology looked… No, the technology
was
far too advanced.

‘What…’ she said. ‘What’s going on? Where am I?’

Various smiles faded. ‘What do you remember?’ Kellog asked. ‘You know who you are?’

‘Nisa Harper. I was… I was raiding a drug lab.’

‘Oh shit,’ Norbery muttered.

‘We knew this was a possibility,’ Kellog said, calmly. ‘We knew the depth of immersion might result in some difficulty returning to the real world.’

‘The… real world?’ Nisa asked.

Kellog nodded. ‘Your name
is
Nisa Harper; you are
not
a mathematics drop-out turned magical policewoman. You are a computer sciences researcher at UCL. We’ve been conducting experiments into wireless neural induction technologies. Total immersion virtual reality for everyone, not just people with wires in their heads. You volunteered to be first to try a long-term run. You’ve been inside a computer-generated virtual world for the past three days…’

‘Three days! I was… I mean, I remember my childhood, growing up. It’s been months since I joined XC!’

‘Most of it is implanted memories,’ Norbery told her. ‘The game began when you first cracked the light spell. That was your starting character skill.’

‘It… was a game?’

‘Well, game is not quite the right word,’ Maxim said. ‘The initial conditions are set, but once it’s running, it’s like… being in a novel which your mind is writing along with the computer.’ He grinned. ‘That is a brilliant piece of programming, by the way. You should be proud of yourself.’

Nisa pushed herself into a sitting position and then swung her legs off the side of the bench she was lying on. It was on rollers, designed to move into the cavity in the computer. And she was wearing what looked like a plastic hospital gown.

‘What’s the date?’ she asked.

‘Fifteenth of November,’ Kellog replied, ‘twenty-thirty-six.’

Nisa closed her eyes. ‘None of this is making sense. I’ll get my
real
memories back soon, right?’

‘That’s part of the experiment. We don’t
absolutely
know.’

‘They should come back,’ Sandra put in. ‘We’re just not sure how long it’ll take, and it may come back in dribs and drabs, or all in a rush. All your medical readouts are in the green. I think the best thing would be to get you home and save the complicated debriefing until Monday.’

There were nods, but Nisa was not so sure. ‘I don’t think I should be alone…’

Kellog winced. ‘You won’t be. Sandra, you’d best ring ahead…’

Isle of Dogs.

She lived, apparently, in a modern apartment building on the river. It looked expensive,
very
expensive, so she figured virtual reality research paid well. Kellog had suggested they stay quiet on the drive over. He said it was best not to confuse her with details. Her home would let her sink back into the real world and probably help her get her memories back.

He dropped her off outside the building and told her that it was apartment thirty-three, and she watched him drive away… Or she had watched the car drive away since it could do that perfectly well without his assistance. There had been Google logos all over the place on the thing. Maybe they
had
taken over the world. Spike had always said they…

Spike was a computer program in a VR system. She had to try to remember that. Turning, she headed for the door.

A black cat welcomed her into the apartment, rubbing around her legs and making her giggle as she walked down a short hall and into a large, open lounge with a huge window opening on to a balcony. She could see the Thames slipping past below.

‘Yes, Faline, she’s back. Don’t make her break her neck now she’s here.’

Nisa turned at the sound of the voice. Alaina Peters was standing in a doorway, bedroom or kitchen, Nisa was not sure. She remembered none of the layout. Alaina was dressed in a short, silky wrap, her feet bare. The real one seemed just as sexy as the virtual one and… And it made sense of the weird attraction she had felt to the character in the game. She had wanted virtual Alaina because in the
real
world…

‘Sandra called,’ Alaina said a little hesitantly. ‘You… really don’t remember me?’

‘There was a version of you in the game. I remember her, but… Sorry. They say it’ll all come back. Just a matter of time.’

‘Maybe we can jog your memory.’ Alaina crossed the room and snaked an arm up and around Nisa’s neck, and they were kissing. Nisa responded without thought, as though it was totally natural. It
was
totally natural, and electric. A dull throb began between Nisa’s legs as the kiss continued until they had to break for air. ‘How… how’s that?’ Alaina asked, her voice husky.

‘Not sure,’ Nisa replied, leaning forward to kiss Alaina’s neck below her ear. ‘I think there was something.’ Another kiss grazed Alaina’s jaw. ‘We should try again.’

‘Oh God, yes please!’

~~~

The door had led to the bedroom. They lay amid the wreckage of crumpled sheets, basking in the afterglow. Alaina’s breathing was still ragged and she lay sprawled on the bed, unwilling to try to move just yet.

‘That,’ she said, ‘was crazy. I almost hope some of this game you played sticks around. You’re never normally that wild. Not that I don’t love what you do to me anyway, but…’

‘Crazy can be good sometimes?’

‘That.’

‘Well, I’ll remember you properly soon, but for right now it’s like this is the first time.’

‘Maybe that’s it. I remember our first time. You were very eager.’

‘You are very sexy.’

Alaina giggled. ‘Thank you. I remember the second time too. You couldn’t wait and we did it in the toilets at a nightclub. Yeah, you were wilder back then. I think… I think the job changed you. You got more serious.’

Nisa leaned over and kissed one of Alaina’s nipples. The blonde woman shuddered and a soft moan escaped her lips.

‘Well, it’s changed me again,’ Nisa said. ‘At least until the memories come back I’m your wild child again.’ Her hand slid up Alaina’s thigh, eliciting another moan which became a whimper.

‘Oh… God… Yes…’ Alaina breathed.

November 16
^th
.

Nisa walked out of the bedroom, still half asleep, to find Alaina sitting at the small, round dining table which was set where diners could get a good view out of the window. The day was overcast, the water looked muddy, and the buildings across the river did not look at their best in this light, but Nisa had another view to look at and did not care.

‘Hey, you’re up,’ Alaina said, smiling. ‘You were still dead when I woke so I figured I’d leave you. You seemed like you needed it.’ She was wearing a fitted shirt, the outline of briefs showing through at her hip, and nothing else, and there was toast with jam on it in her hand.

‘Must have,’ Nisa agreed, walking over. She leaned down and their lips met, tongues twisting around each other. Alaina tasted of strawberries.

‘Remember anything else?’ Alaina asked, her voice breathy.

‘Uh… not sure. I had this dream… We were in white dresses, standing in front of some stern-looking guy in a black suit.’

‘That was our wedding. He was called Mister Black, the registrar.’

There was no surprise at hearing the word ‘wedding.’ She was married. Nisa Harper had married Alaina Peters six years ago. Neither had changed their names. The honeymoon had been in Bali. They had barely left the bedroom.

‘Oh!’ Alaina said, standing and dashing for the bedroom. ‘This might help.’ She returned a few seconds later and held out her hand. There was a ring in it, gold with delicately carved, tribal-style traceries engraved into it. There was a similar band around Alaina’s ring finger.

Nisa had a quick flash of that ring being placed on her hand. She grinned and held out her left hand, fingers spread. ‘You put it on, like the first time.’ Giggling, Alaina slipped the ring onto Nisa’s finger. Nisa shivered as something like a little electric shock ran through her. She remembered sitting in a café in Soho, chatting with the cute blonde on the table next to her. After an hour and three coffees they had exchanged IM addresses. She remembered the swimming pool in their villa in Bali, Alaina swimming naked through the blue water while Nisa watched until she could take no more and they had made love on the flags at the edge. She remembered following a blonde ponytail over a hill in Wales on a hiking holiday that Alaina had said would be great, and they had ended up hiding from the weather in their tent for most of the week.

‘My toast’s getting cold,’ Alaina said, grinning and sitting back in her seat.

‘I’m starting to remember things. Bits, the ring helped.’

‘Good, that’s good.’

‘I remember Wales…’

Alaina groaned. ‘That’s one thing I hoped you’d forget permanently.’

Grinning, Nisa stepped behind her and started rubbing at her shoulders and neck through the shirt. ‘It had its good points.’

‘Nothing to do but fuck in the tent for most of the trip?’

‘That.’ Nisa leaned forward, sliding her hands down, and popped the topmost button on Alaina’s shirt. Her right hand slipped beneath the fabric, cupping Alaina’s left breast.

Alaina’s breathing shuddered. ‘D-didn’t you get enough of that last night?’

‘Never.’ Nisa’s lips met her wife’s ear, and her thumb stroked over the nipple it had found, teasing it into life. She pushed her left hand down, sliding it between Alaina’s thighs, fingers caressing soft flesh through the fabric of her panties.

‘My toast’ll get cold,’ Alaina said plaintively.

Nisa squeezed the engorged nipple and Alaina gasped. ‘I’ll make you more toast,’ Nisa said.

~~~

They sat naked on the couch in the lounge, Alaina in Nisa’s lap because Nisa did not want her further away, and watched the huge screen built into the wall of the apartment. The news was not good, but it seemed to be filling in blanks in Nisa’s memory, so they kept watching.

North Korea was, once again, threatening to invade the south. America was moving anti-missile systems into place at the border since it was believed that the North Koreans had functioning long-range missiles with nuclear warheads. The Middle East was still in a state of near-constant conflict. American forces were assisting Israel against Syria. There were comments regarding America over-stretching itself, suggestions that the economic strain might be too much.

Nisa could remember a trail of growing conflict over the past couple of decades and, while they were not good memories, they were memories. Anything was good, right?

On the brighter side, the Extended Thames Flood Protection Scheme, a huge dam system crossing the river at Gravesend, was nearing completion. That was the brighter side, the fact that London was likely safe from rising sea levels for the next century. Nisa could remember a very positive report on the first commercial fusion reactor going live a few months earlier. There had practically been dancing in the streets. Of course, it was going to take years to realise its full potential, but they had a new source of energy which did not heat the planet up.

‘It’s all kind of depressing,’ Alaina commented as the programme ended.

‘It’s helping me remember, and that’s not depressing. You know, back in twenty-fourteen there were still people who didn’t think global warming was real.’

Alaina giggled. ‘There are still people now who say it’s down to solar cycles and nothing to do with us.’

‘Yeah, but they’re nut jobs.’

Another giggle, and some squirming. ‘You know… I’m not hungry. We could eat late.’

Nisa grinned. ‘Haven’t you had enough after last night, and this morning, and this afternoon...?’

‘We haven’t done anything like this in ages and… And I want you.’

‘Whatever my lady desires,’ Nisa replied, pulling her into a kiss.

Bloomsbury, November 17
^th
.

There was a man standing on the corner outside Warren Street tube station wearing a sandwich board with ‘This World Is Not Real’ printed on it. Well, you did get all sorts of weirdos on the streets of London, but this one seemed odd… for a weirdo. For one thing, he was dressed in a pressed, black suit, spotless white shirt, and a black tie. The placard people were usually hobos, or students desperate for cash advertising some shop or English language courses for immigrants.

Not that there were many of the latter about now. Flooding had made refugees of people all over the world and Europe had clamped down its borders. The UK, being an island, had done a more thorough job than most.