NEUROCEAN

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‘Desire as the Life-force flows where it runs free, through where it is diminished, or where it is

magnified too greatly. Desire rises through its nurtured realms. As it is the path to freedom and the

love-bond binding us to the world, so too does it hold the power to harm others, lose our true selves

and deprive the life from flowing.’

- Insight of the Village of Fountellion

1. Ladder

Aged thirty-nine he was, but it had happened again.

It was lucky he hadn’t been higher up the ladder. As soon as he was properly aware again,

grounded, he felt the deeper bite of fear in his stomach, the one for the ultimate

disconnection; death.

Losing Source control… Steady Ben… What did they say? That he could deteriorate. At any

time. Until I’m really out of it.

He was stooped over with his hands on his knees.

Thank god for the birds, he thought. Rooks, not seagulls. Their rough squawks gave him

some bearings again as he beheld the green grass of France.

He did begin to feel more stable. Another gust of April wind blew clumps of his brown hair

across his head, and he straightened up, slowly. Wooden wind chimes in the garden knocked

softly together and were soothing.

This IS the world...

The memory then, it had been a sensation of the interface. He knew because he’d

instinctively started to raise his arms, spread out wide behind him. It was the virtual gesture

of surfacing that had come back to him. It had occurred before. Each time it had been

triggered by the girl’s face, surfacing too into memory.

My God it’s hot. And a warm breeze too. When it hit midday it would be too hot to be

outdoors. He walked carefully to the small entrance of the rustic cottage. One arm came

out again as he felt another wave of sickness and his hand gripped the wooden frame.

Who was she? …A joyful face, some blue flower in her hair… Surely it was real, he

probed. Unembellished; a real memory, with a large greenwood tree behind her and long

green grass. And her expression - of honest, trusting love - made his whole being ache for

his youth; a simple man, with strength and passion. Before it was lost in dreams. Before he

began to chase the glory from his own skill or mastery inside the Hyperzones and the

Superworlds. And of course, the Neuroceans. How they had drained him of time and his life

force. They were all transcendent realms of control, away from the honest influence of

reality; away – you would think – from the restlessness of thought, from lonely desire and

this presence of nature.

And now this haunting. He was paying the price he supposed, for ignoring a slowly evolving

world; for turning his back on its levelling and certain timeframe.

Today, he had been going up to trim the creeper growing off the side of the old house,

when the girl’s face and the confusion it brought set off the other, more life-threatening

memory. It had re-awakened with one absolute wave of disorientation. But it wasn’t

anything visual; it was the sheer, vivid sensation of the interface, coming back. The cutters

had fallen from one of his hands and he had swung round on the ladder and fallen quickly

and awkwardly to a heap on the grass. There had been a horrible moment when he was sure

the grass was an illusion and that he would fall right through the earth. Just like he had

once in some game.

Too many worlds, and too much time in them…

A simple answer, but he knew it was more than this. It must still be the side-effect of

the Neuroceans and the Line he had faced and crossed, so many years ago. As one of the

few who had become too immersed; too detached - had been chosen to get too immersed –

and had agreed, so eagerly. The experience of it had never left him.

In such ways are we seduced by power and by our peers…

A careful, rational decision might not have hurried things but nature, he supposed, must

expand through such curiosity. And now he clenched the feel of the wood of the doorframe

harder; pressed the tips of his fingers against it and gazed at the dark, solid floor of the cool

interior.

Blake entered his mind now. Was it Blake? No, not the real one: his avatar. But there was

not much difference, even then.

“I see Reality and Fantasy as being intertwined,” Blake had said. “Or more like the cogs of a

system, working the wheel of life; in tandem. What did you call it? Confluence. They

complement one another. Always have.”

He could recall the location too; large tongues of flame licking round the visibly damp logs

in the Merrie England simulation, a brilliant web-world. New Sherwood. He remembered

those flames, the way they appeared real. Would I have remembered they weren’t real? But

that they had suddenly lengthened and changed into intricate hues like the effect of sun

upon oil upon water-pools – iridescence - and they had all gasped at Blake’s creation. Or

was this memory the one of the real trip, where they had actually gone camping. It was

getting harder to distinguish his memories. It was getting harder to focus. He was becoming

so confused.

And only thirty-nine.

He went inside where it was cool and found the bottle, pouring himself a glass and taking a

thick, cleansing gulp. He felt those real flames rise up into his throat. The glass made a

comforting knock, a familiar sound, back on the bar surface. But his hand shook slightly as

he kept it on the rim. He tried to keep it steady. Control. Then he gave up, instead pressing

the glass into the resistance of the wood beneath; to force stillness. Steady.

No, maybe it was some girl from before he had met Blake and Rosa? Before Rosa had found

him, disenthralled from the system, blubbing like a baby. It was only through her help that

he had re-acclimatised so quickly. She had saved him. Zack too. But Rosa had become a

victim, and Blake had been comatose for too long and then turned off. Gone. How he

wanted them to be here; now.

The vision could have been a dream from this world in which he stood, within his body,

propped against his kitchen bar. How unfamiliar I still am, he thought, with this body. He

could not know if the girl had ever been real or not. She was familiar. But he just couldn’t

place it; not in any context where he had spent time. Time.

Where had it gone?

The interface had been two years in the developing, and as a well-known builder, gamer

and artist of the Superworlds, he had been asked to assist in its development. It wasn’t just

the seamlessness of it, the sensitivity of the mask and the sensations from the vest and suit;

the peripherals. It was the breathing too, for even this was linked to various actions in-

world. And then came the IBH; Intricate Brainwave Harnessing.

Other superworlds would, one day, be built just for this. It had become known as ‘the

Focus’.

Through these features, they were the few who had first been able to near the Neurocean

Line, as it was sometimes still called. But - if my memory serves - they had surely crossed

over it that time.

Just look at me still… even now.

The virtual ‘Neurocean’ had been a test environment or ‘sim’ to accompany the

combination of interfaces created for it. The main hardware was the usual: a close face-

mask with various connecting points and an advanced upper-body haptic feedback vest.

However, this was linked with the hugely successful Virtual Reality ‘trainer’ which was still

new then, and has seen a number of changes since. Once connected to its flexible harness

system, it allowed for every movement, including some bounce freedom, if this was

required of the ‘sim’ you were visiting (sims included the spectrum of environments: ocean,

desert, jungle, space etc). Trainers were the ultimate VR interface because of their

flexibility but they took training to master, because some of the movements varied from

everyday realworld movements. They were at the top-end, but it was possible to access

such elaborate worlds using lesser interfaces, or without a Trainer at all, and still have

highly involving experiences. The biggest breakthrough however, for any user, had been in

the ‘focussing’ ability, where the mask harnessed brainwave signatures and fed them into

the system. Its controls gave final, comprehensive meaning to the word ‘connected’, or

being ‘jacked in’, after so long in use in the computer world. It was magical transportation

and transcendence for the mind and major senses.

The whiskey went down again, igniting the fire again in his stomach.

Alone… and tired, he thought, and rubbed his head, pulling hair lightly at the roots to elicit

some sensual response within him. He needed it.

Too much thinking. Where our thoughts have power.

He surveyed himself in the large mirror on the opposite wall.

You, Ben Fielding, were younger once, and restless like our whole race. Running from your

own will to power. Skiving off the Know-zones to conquer the dark, richer Gameworlds.

Much later, you bled your mind for the Super; gave so much life and time in the scramble

to regain that power. Then, you longed only to be free and young, free of it all, free of

that which was only one form of living and experience. They had gone so far, and too

quickly.

And now that memory. A dream?

"Music", he spoke. But mostly the pure sounds from the garden were all he needed these

days. He spoke to his empty house: “Embertime.” Ambient guitar music floated out of the

speakers in the corners of the rooms. The sound eased his mind as he thought harder, to

clear unwanted thoughts and reconcile himself to what they formed; his unresolved,

collective spirit underneath. But he wanted to be reconciled though, and therefore more

crucially, resolved. So with some effort he forced his mind back to… two dark figures on the

shore… no, further back… a starting point… digital water…

2. Testing

It started in darkness, with only vague impressions to the eyes, of the creatures that moved

towards you to test the graphics and their effects. Touching them would induce a mild

electric shock to the finger-tips through the material. Just one of many responses. Virtual

sea creatures would become illuminated in a quick revelation of detail. The hues were far

better than real. More real than real. These online days, nothing was less than this. But

back then it was still breathtaking. Small earphones transcribed the highest sound quality.

And the suit itself responded to the appearance of the water around one’s avatar. You could

feel a form of heaviness from being very far down under the sea, and tightness in its

contraction around the belly.

He remembered the shark. It was a creature he himself and spent many months on, with

colleagues from the Firecube Academy, specialists in animated VR elements.

“Don’t get too close!” he had spoken to Blake’s avatar, drifting nearby. He saw his friend’s

arms, outstretched too like a drowning man.

“Ok, I won’t!” Blake’s watery voice replied, older and gruffer, but it chuckled. There was

edginess there too, so in reply he laughed in a louder, mock imitation.

They were coming up together. The process was like forming dance moves underwater, but

you also had to keep trying to ease your body upwards like a fish. In this way your mind

became accustomed to the interface. He remembered how fluid it all was though. How easy

it became with every session that went by, floating upwards through the visual stimulation,

but finally with a keen control. Working with the team, development had taken brain

activity through the mask and effectively amplified it to become tuned-in to the motion. It

was thought control. Focus. Towards the surface, the mind would be firmly within the

system. This was the design.

But it was not at all perfect yet. Every now and then a quirk in the sync or a sudden lag or

fragmentation would produce a flicker, endangering the senses. There were many different

peripherals and interfaces emerging from development across the world and each system

was different. They had been testing now for months, but every time there was still

something so new about it, so real and physically more intense. Every time was different,

following new sets of – sometimes minute - adjustments. This first time – and this last time -

they had reached the surface without delay.

Knowing nothing about the island.

He saw it in his mind still, a landmark in his life. Far off, with sunlight illuminating strange

leaves on the distant trees and shimmering. He had been up first, waiting for Blake and Rosa

to emerge. He couldn’t really think about anything else. For in that moment though, he had

made it. Had willed it. The blue of the bright sky was brilliant; exhilarating. They hadn’t

accessed it before through this new configuration. The water around his neck was simulated

by the suit, and tiny fluctuations in the mask gave him the breeze across the water,

enveloping his face. His arms were still outstretched behind him beneath the surface, and

when he moved them forwards, the sensation on his arms was slower with the lag of the

water. The waves were perfect. Beautiful. Rosa had helped simulate them through a new

algorithm that involved fractal equations: infinite variety from a simple rule. And here they

were, manifest, gradually undulating all around him, as though the ocean were indeed huge.

For a moment he just reveled in the results of their combined work.

When the other two surfaced, their virtual faces responded to expressions they were making

within their masks. (This was because their avatar program was aimed at simulating

themselves exactly as they were in the real world, but with all the benefits of the system).

So Rosa was alluring as ever, because she really was. And always so quiet; always keeping

some part of you separate and professional. How I admired you… and more…

And here they were happy; elated. They had achieved full progression, a complete test,

after so much time spent on development. So much focussing. The others would come next

but for now, this time was theirs. Special. They had brought themselves up through the

power of their minds – on many levels - and the system was tuned so incredibly well. It was

responsive and in sync to their presence.

”Avast ye olde sea dogs!” Blake had said, or something like it. “One small swim for a man…

one giant high for mankind. Wooohooo !”

They had all laughed. Rosa’s small avatar face broke wide. He saw the fangs she had

lengthened only slightly for herself, a throwback to her goth-girl days. She was looking

towards him, but of course all avatar eyes – back then – were fixed. It was only the

expressions that could change. Her head turned upwards at the sky and then it returned

towards him and she laughed again as he smiled.

“I’m actually wary of that shark, Ben… so real.”

He laughed again. The sound was bright out of the water, a careful noise adjustment for

wide spaces. He had said to Blake, “No way you get to be Armstrong!” Which was true.

For then they were quiet, and he knew the mood would change, and their expressions. They

had seen the island too.

3. The Beta Island

Like him, they were confused and curious. He turned back to it himself. And they all heard

the voice then, mild and not unfriendly. But it held a great weight of surety – control -

reaching them secretively over the waves.

“Greetings to the brave, new people… We wondered when you’d surface at last.”

They searched about. The trees along the shore broke off and he could see the island had a

clearing. At this point he saw the source of the voice - two dark figures – standing near the

shore. It was ominous, and he remembered feeling a sudden dread for – unusually -

something more than the immersion, the interface: for his own mind adrift in these worlds

within the world.

“What the…?” spoke Blake.

“No island should exist on this Neurocean server,” he’d responded in a hushed voice, even

though they were on ‘private’.

“It could only be a different region, hooked up via higher access.”

Blake now directed his voice to the island: “What is this?”

The figures were very small, but he could see that one was turned close to the other,

conferring, before it turned back.

A dry chuckle drifted back. “It’s only your employers,” came the voice again. It was nearby,

because it had been thrown by the person and projected around their location by the

system. These figures could have been anyone in reality, women perhaps, with false, male

voices. But it was unlikely; the company security was well protected against deception. It

spoke again, “Don’t worry team. We’re only here because you’re here. All credit will be

shared. We knew how far you’d come with the hardware, so we’ve been having a go

ourselves, from our side.”

“Who are we exactly?” Blake threw back. But he’d also made a motion with his finger,

triggering the HUD that displayed names of nearby avatars. It showed the strangers bearing

fanciful names in the role-play tradition.

“We’ve been tapped into your work for a while now. My name here is Prosper, a director of

funding for Immertech and my fellow executives and investors from the board are here,

Caleb and… Miranda. We requested some spare equipment be developed for showcasing, but

have since got rather immersed ourselves.”

They’d all known that the project was being monitored, but hadn’t guessed this directly. An

island. He’d had to ask the main question. “Have you used the Neurocean process? Slow-

surfacing?”

The man’s voice resonated again, a convincing executive impression, although it could be

synthesised, or pre-recorded. “When you come ashore we’ll explain more. As primary

investors, let’s just say we were concerned about our investment, and needed to know for

ourselves we had something we could fully appreciate, as it were.”

Many of the top staff had been ardent web-heads in the past, and it was possible they could

have arranged access to link up to their test-bed. They relaxed a bit. But Rosa and Blake

were facing one another, looking as serious as he felt. Their earlier success seemed a lot

less unique now but… Immertech was the leading edge in brainwave harnessing and it was

now a large company. They’d been lucky to have been involved in the important testing

phase. Maybe there was a lot more they didn’t know. Still, it was a shock to find bigwigs

invading their territory and to learn they’d been kept in the dark as usual. But by then,

they’d all known, since the ‘swimming’ tests began, how the interface was performing; and

how big it would be. It couldn’t stay contained for long.

“We won’t spoil the fruits of your labours.” Prosper’s voice again. “Fly over and join us

when you’re ready. Enjoy some freedom while you can!”

This should have been a warning, but still, they couldn’t have known. There was only Zack

in the control room today, keeping an eye on their real selves, in the trainers, probably

patched into his own rendering activities. If these unknowns really were company brass, and

testing from their own room, they must have outside links too. Unless it was a very private

setup, known only to them, perhaps for reasons of… espionage, virus security? Or even the

military. All so optimistic.

“Well… that was unexpected.” Rosa’s voice. “What do you guys think? The company may not

know about their presence. We could be colluding.” Her head looked small bobbing up and

down in the huge, dazzling allure of the simulated waves. “But the quicker we can get back

to testing the better.”

Blake replied “Well, hackers are normally less blatant. If they are who they seem to be,

there’s no one we’re colluding against. How can they have rigged up without proper access?

I think we should check it out.” He was always the risk-taker in development. They had

come far with it. Partly too, there was still an eagerness in them all to continue testing, and

an enthusiasm to share it with others. The sensation of surfacing had been... intense...

perfect this time at last.

We were too eager… to attain that ultimate level of control we had been craving for so

long.

Still intoxicated by their success, with the sea all around them and the intrigue that had

greeted them; they’d agreed to go over to the island, but not before the next part had been

achieved. Flying with Focus. “Well, it must be like the swimming,” he’d said. “We know the

procedure, so it’s all in the execution.”

Taking a breath, he spread his suited fingers under the water. His mind tuned into an

outside sensation of lifting and he imagined the signal being captured by the interface. His

body rose quietly; fluidly.

Blake was already rising but slower. The detail was so good; he could see water droplets

hanging from their suit while they continued to clear the ocean and suspend themselves

above it. What was strange was the knowledge that he was not flying in the real-world, but

suspended in the harness, but here he could see different, his virtual legs had the darkening

blue of deep water beneath him. He was at one with this other place. Fully, in sync.

It was like freedom. They spent some time above the water, moving in the combination of

continued thought and motion control; flying with their minds and with their hands. The

vest simulated breeze effects across their upper bodies.

“How are you Blake?” he enquired of his grinning comrade.

“Still very nicely high… thank-you Ben... Rosa?”

She hadn’t responded but they could see she was concentrating. Achieving balance with

these new settings. They all took a little longer familiarising with the sensation and reaching

the states of floating and flying, purely through breathing, hands and brain signals. The

interface adjustments they’d made were enabling it to be more responsive than ever, the

same as it had been beneath the surface. They were all pleased, and finally enjoying the

power and control of virtual fluid levitation and traversal. As they moved higher, seagulls

hung wide in the louder wind cycles as they overtook them or else they weaved and cried in

irritation, avoiding their intrusive presence. The possibilities to come. He looked towards

the figures on the shore and could see them closer together again, talking, but still waiting.

And then, as they rose higher, the extent of the island became ever more clear.

Let’s just say it was as detailed and expensive-looking as any of the top web-worlds.

Perhaps only partially accessible by an avatar, but its appearance was like a real one, with

great cliffs, rock features and tiny, crashing waves at their base. The vegetation was as

detailed and real and consequently as inviting as any helicopter ride to a tropical island. But

it wasn’t so super-looking from where they approached. They couldn’t see the brighter

colours of Virtual Worlds that are so apparent closer up. It was still more like an island from

a dinosaur film he had loved as a child, the one from Jurassic Park, heralding a place of

wonder, discovery; danger. They could have spent months just flying around its coast, in

between the rocks and features. But for the mystery pulling them down to its open

shoreline.

“I’m ready to hold hands now, please,” Rosa said. Her voice came into their ears. And they

managed it, while again the focusing of their thoughts kept their avatars positioned next to

one another. Their fingers remained straight for flying but they could touch hands. The

waves beneath their feet moved in a rhythm beneath, and light sparkled on its texture from

the simulated sun.

They’d still felt elated. “I think this could be the start of something wonderful”. She’d said,

beaming. But it would be the end.

“The sense of control is very strong” Blake said. “I would never have imagined it could be

so… flexible…so… connected.” They nodded in a quiet, thrilled agreement. “So… we’d

better check out what it is these guys know that we don’t. I wonder how long they’ve been

here. If they start showing off I’m leaving.”

There had been a slight ‘quirk in the sync’ when they crossed regions, indicating that this

island was on a separate server. But he knew it had to be. As they willed themselves closer,

he could see the figures in more detail; fairly standard avatars, but coloured in dark blue, as

opposed to their own dark grey. We should never have gone. But the landing was a test.

They managed it in varying degrees of clumsiness onto the shore, exhaling slowly and curling

their gloved fingers into claws.

The speaker Prosper was modelled tall and slim and stood assuredly, feet apart. His hands

were behind his back, again commanding, and his face was much more defined up close. But

it was very wizard-like with a thin, cinematic face and a white goatee. Caleb’s face seemed

somehow rougher but they were both in smart blue against the glinting sand. He

remembered how golden that sand was. And how, when a breeze came, all the nearby

foliage responded in their convincing ways. Prosper stepped his avatar forwards slightly in a

careful movement. It was all so hyper-real.

It had started off cordial, and for the next ten minutes or so it would remain so. It could

have been alright. But for the presence of power.

“Welcome to our beta island. We call it Boston.” He made a bow gesture while his friend

stood beside and further back; the henchman. Their faces were tanned a much darker shade

than their own, and the expressions were more elusive as a result. How real were they?

“And you’re the founders?!” he’d answered.

A laugh again. “As are you, don’t worry Ben!” And then, turning slightly to Blake’s bearded

form, “although perhaps more puritan than us? …But you’ll all be settlers here, in no time.

It doesn’t take long. It’s Blake isn’t it? And of course Rosa.”

“That should be what our tags read,” Rosa spoke out, clearly not wanting to hide the

suspicion they still felt.

He’d gone straight ahead and asked Prosper again if they had adjusted carefully to the

world after jacking-in. Correct acclimatization was fundamental to the effectiveness of the

interface; previous known risks had induced nausea, claustrophobia and even mental

problems in some rare cases after long sessions.

There was a pause. Their manner was patient and restrained; noticeably too much. “Yes,

but we were a bit eager maybe at first. Still, it feels more than comfortable.” What had he

said? “We seem to be bearing up rather well.” No trace of worry. Just casual. He wasn’t

telling them anything yet.

What else is coming? He’d remembered thinking. And where’s the other one? Still only two.

Blake had said, “I hope… you already know our testing reports. You guys always have to

keep something from us, don’t you? Is this place somehow immune from the specified

testing standards?”

It didn’t provoke them.

“Not at all.” Prosper said. “We’re fully aware of the risks, and in fact, support your

procedure. However, we just felt that we would undertake it, on a smaller timescale. I

think you’ll find it won’t make much difference anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” Blake asked. They were all intrigued, but there was no

immediate response from the figures. The leaves on the island trees swayed with the virtual

breeze again over their heads. He had looked at their lush, hypnotic graphical rendering and

thought of the wind through fields of barley he’d walked through as a boy. The feeling of

wanting to fly again was strong.

“Don’t mind him he’s just being over-philosophical again.” Caleb now said, for the voice

was new, perhaps younger. “We’re all here now aren’t we, that’s the point… and at least

there are more of us to look after one another if anything happens. Besides… it’s exciting

stuff don’t you think? We didn’t want to feel too left out at this stage.”

It confirmed a lot. They had no place here and he remembered feeling a surge of

annoyance. They were money-men only here to exploit the moment. And they had

endangered them all with their eagerness.

“Where’s your other colleague then, Miranda?” he asked. The avatar Caleb stood a little

behind Prosper but the mini-map on his HUD still showed the presence of a third avatar on

the island.

Prosper kept a neutral expression, of course, his eyes were gazing unnaturally, as they all

did. “She came in with us as usual. I think she’s just somewhere further inland, isn’t she

Caleb? Or on the shore on the other side.” He turned to look at Caleb for a response, but

none was forthcoming.

After a moment he turned back, saying, “Look, there’s so much for you guys to get into

here. Caleb, will you show them just how effective the focus is?” Show off time.

The taller form moved aside to make room for his colleague. Still facing them, but moving

forwards, Caleb said, “I have to congratulate you guys on the development of… this…” He

raised a stocky arm up above his head with his fingers spread wide. Turning slightly, he

looked up at the leaves of the palm tree behind him. The leaves swayed as before, but then

suddenly stopped and moved towards a centre point. His arm lowered and with it the whole

tree bent down towards them. They heard the simulated creak of wood. Caleb’s avatar

smiled, and when he opened his fingers again, the tree leaves were released also, and the

tree bent back like a spring, away to resume its former position.

“Nice,” said Blake. “You know we have been testing environment control quite extensively.

In the Sandbox sims.”

“Have you?” answered Caleb, sharply, with a gleeful, therefore unsettling laugh that

followed. What’s coming… attacked by coconuts?

The next thing caught them off guard. The figure only raised one finger to his temple. He

remained facing them, and while he stood, the palm tree did exactly the same motion, only

it was quicker and more alarming. In fact, the whole tree bent again, down towards them

with a swift motion, right at where they stood. He thought they would all be swatted like

flies. Instinctively, he crouched down as the leaves rushed down on top of them, to engulf

them. Turning to his left, Blake and Rosa had done the same, and they felt the leaves

against them, bristling their vests and masks until just as suddenly, he saw the leaves rise

again and be released once more. Or more correctly… flicked. They stayed motionless;

quietly shaken. The creaking wood sound effect decreased gradually until there was just

wind noise again, and the waves on the shore.

Prosper and Caleb were both smiling wider now, but it was Caleb who laughed again.

“Whoops. Sorry guys!” Their grey virtual forms stood up and recovered. “Everyone ok? …By

the way, it’s not real you know!” More mild chuckling between them.

The lack of any standard gesture - for what had just occurred - meant only one thing: that

they could now fully control features of the landscape with their thoughts. And this could

extend to other people? He had felt more vulnerable then.

“Ok. I’m impressed,” Blake spoke, his sandy hair rendered virtually unkempt by the leaves.

“You’ve managed to hook the Focus directly to the environment already?” And with such

force. He was insistent. “Is this another side project we haven’t been told about?”

“It must be…” said Rosa, “…is this a Mod?” A modification.

“No, not really,” came the reply: Prosper’s voice. “This is more a recent development,

using the existing interface. And a little mental practice. I will say that the sensation is

interesting too. Why not have a go? Our island is your island.”

For the next hour, they did experiment themselves, shaking trees and bending leaves by

concentrating on them, projecting a focus, similar to the flying. But it was generally

confused. There was nowhere near the ability that Caleb had showed. Either their units

were modified, or it was really possible to increase concentration to such an intense

degree? It had to be the former. So their avatars never really stood a chance.

They kept an eye on the two strangers, who seemed still happy to watch and wait. But none

of them had forgotten the power Caleb had just flaunted, unnecessarily, even in here.

He remembered Rosa’s private voice reaching into their ears. “It’s interesting how no

amount of imagining can prepare you for the first reality of an interface breakthrough. Until

you familiarise with it, describing it is little use. There’s so much possibility here.” He felt

glad she was happy. “But I’m wary too.”

“Everything is just so connected with this.” Blake said, concentrating on the base of a tree

trunk and swaying it just slightly to shake the leaves at the top.

He could see Rosa had found a stream nearby and she drifted over to hang above it, trying

to make splashes in the water by moving stones. In each case their hands helped them to

move the island features, but their minds were assisting, and creating a very interesting

sensation of power.

He turned back to find Prosper, but he and Caleb in their slim, blue figures had now moved.

They’d flown swiftly towards the stream and closer to Rosa. So he followed to where they

had landed effortlessly, but they now seemed edgy to notice him, their heads kept drawing

back to the stream and Rosa, as if the area was sacred to them. It had been.

He had questions. “Have you been modifying the focussing capability yourselves? Any side-

effects? And where’s Miranda? The map shows her to be around here.” His mind was buzzing

slightly, even from the flying.

“No side effects. Just the feeling of wanting to try… more things...”

This sounded a little creepy, and he saw Rosa turn briefly in their direction, before turning

back to the stream - splashing the virtual water now - without even gesturing.

Caleb said “Don’t worry, nothing is real here. It’s all an illusion ok? Remember this, because

you might need to!”

The whole business of testing depended on healthy results. This was new stuff, and the

future of the entire project was at stake. But he let a thought occur to him then. He

remembered; it had come with a mix of awe and dread as he tried to gauge Caleb’s

intentions. But faces were harder to read in-world.

They couldn’t leave.

The conversation carried on beside the stream. “We have been here a lot,” Prosper said,

still in a casual tone, “it is possible our minds may be starting to enjoy the …power a little…

to enable some higher kinship with the system. In fact, it’s why we’re glad you’ve

surfaced… at last.”

Was it proving highly immersive. Addictive? He accused them of it too, provocatively. They

hadn’t really told them anything.

“You must feel like you never want to leave, though?”

Prosper seemed not to listen, and there was a pause. But Caleb answered. “When I do jack

out, all the power is gone. So …we need to be here. We need to see how far it can go. Sure

we can eat and sleep out there, but believe me, even after this first session, you guys are

already now, hooked. Connected. Just like us.”

His own mind still felt a sheer excitement to continue flying and controlling the features of

the environment. It had felt like he was hooked. Was he still?

Caleb’s head turned back to the stream, casually, and he remembered thinking it was a

strange motion, after what had been said. Why was he wary of Rosa?

“Oh my god!” It was Rosa’s voice. But she was no longer around the stream. She must have

followed it further into the island. It took a little while for them all to find her, beside a

large pool where the stream was running to.

She was standing just beside its edge and had managed to move some water sufficiently -

with the use of one hand raised downwards - to reveal something... humanoid. An avatar

body. Female. Miranda.

She lay on her back with her head at a severe angle from her body; clearly damaged, at

least virtually. It was a shame because she had very bright, shining hair. It was a strange

sight, perhaps because the body was so well rendered and healthy, but also stained dark

wet with the ‘water’. And she moved. That was a clear memory. One leg tried to rise onto

the heal, but slipped and fell back down. But also, she was making a sound; a drugged,

sluggish voice.

“What the…” Blake’s voice, as he flew down to join them in the clearing; the legs of his

trousers flapped slightly with the speed of descent. For a moment he looked like a

superhero, but he landed awkwardly.

“Meet Miranda everybody,” Caleb said, but it was less assured, slightly edgy now; defensive.

“Don’t worry, she’s perfectly alright. It’s my joke. She’s been a… dummy. For testing. She’s

not actually inhabited. She’s a ghost.”

The water would have dampened any sound, but now there were muffled words.

“Yes… I am.” She spoke, rolling slowly over.

Their heads turned at Prosper. But Prosper – strangely – said nothing. He was only watching

Caleb. But it had seemed from the beginning like he was the older one; the one in charge.

“Ah.” Caleb said, and chuckled. And he did look at Prosper cautiously. “Well, she wasn’t

before.”

“Can’t... get back...” It was – in fact - the last thing she would say.

They both seemed so calm at now being discovered. “We didn’t want to shock you with our

tests. She seemed to be quite enjoying them.”

Prosper’s reply seemed darker since it had moved a little closer towards the afflicted

Miranda. “Apparently… I wasn’t sure what exactly you’d done with her.” Accusingly: “I’ve

been looking for her.”

Rosa had landed beside Miranda, moving her up into the vegetation. Then she knelt down to

look more closely.

The men were silent, but the thought occurred. Rosa spoke it. “Either she’s

drugged out there and you’ve pulled her in here, or else… she’s been badly

affected in here... Either way, she needs help.”

Her hand had touched the top half of Miranda’s body where the vest would be. The form

had stirred again, still trying to move. Pain sensations would have been minimal through the

suit, but it was the mind they were concerned about, with the new IBH, the orientation; and

the realism that any virtual abuse now held.

They would have confronted them a while longer before leaving at once, but, just as he

turned, the blue-garbed figure of Caleb raised one hand and spread his fingers in quick, deft

motion.

He had flown. His whole body and vision was punched away from the clearing until it hit a

tree. The vest responded with a sharp vibration that was again, not painful, but it was

enough to increase the awareness of being quite shaken. The front of it was pressed in too,

indicating that pressure was holding his form against the tree.

“You stay there please Ben.” The voice from Caleb was changed, insisting.

It was now Blake’s turn. He managed to get his hand up first, but there was no resistance

against Caleb who quickly dealt him the same move. He saw Blake hang like a pinned doll,

as he must have looked too. They could do nothing but stare at each other from opposite

trees, and look back at the casual-looking, blue avatars beside a lush, blue island pool.

Another swift set of gestures from them and suddenly vines from the ground flew up and

bound them.

The vines had been there already.

He struggled to think up some resistance and defence, but without their hands it was no

contest, and besides, they were too unfocussed, too unused to the system.

Every ‘sim’ world comes with its own settings and limitations on what an avatar can or

cannot do, where there are other avatars involved. This could be whether or not flying or

teleporting is allowed, or whether collision with other avatars is possible, as opposed to just

‘ghosting’ through them. They knew their Neuroceans servers had quite detailed ones,

depending on what was being tested and what was right for the world. But here… well, they

weren’t on their own territory.

It was likely that anything was possible. And that the big theme was combat.

Rosa was on her feet now, backing away as Caleb and Prosper turned towards her. The

broken girl was useless, unmoving now; passed out. No one will know what she’d been

through. And had there been others like her, hidden in the wild, dark undergrowth?

“Look guys… this is wrong… None of this is an illusion… not here. You’ve got to stop now…

the Focus… it’s still so untested…” Rosa was speaking as she started to levitate up to escape

the clearing but it was taking too long. Again it was Caleb who stretched out arms and hands

to pull her back like a spring to the earth. Prosper joined in and she was struggling but she

was soon spun quickly and effectively against another tree. It took messy attempts because

of their combined intentions, but they finally pinned her arms above her head and wrapped

them with vines. A part of him couldn’t believe this was all happening. He wanted power -

superhuman power - in here… to do something. This was forceful ‘griefing’ of a brand new,

all-too realistic kind and they’d at least have to start talking their way out of this. The

alternative was to jack-out with a voice command (terminating the whole interface), but at

this stage, it could be risky. Wrenching the brain too quickly from where it was too involved

was always unwise. It would be safest to get back to the ocean. He did try to teleport but of

course it was disabled; this was a beta-grid. And meanwhile, these guys were loose cannons,

manifesting so early in the project. Their ghosts would spoil everything. Haunt him.

Caleb opened one palm out towards the water, spread his fingers, and then made a

sweeping motion at him. The water of the pond flew and washed over him; the haptics

reacted accordingly. Theatrics. Meanwhile, they could make no gestures while they were

tied. And I wanted that power.

Next, Caleb’s hands came together as he moved over to the body of Miranda, but Prosper

spoke commandingly again at last:

“Step away Charles, that’s going too far. And tell me how she got like this? Behind my

back?”

Caleb paused and his head turned up towards Prosper, clearly taken by surprise. So Prosper

hadn’t known either. And the real-name use implied that his colleague wanted out of the

fantasy.

“What do you mean? Stop worrying… I’m going to release her from all this! And we’ve got

them pinned just like the plan. We can finish the final tests ourselves…” Whatever this

meant, they never would, at least.

But they argued now over the body of someone still in a bad way. Someone who needed

careful disconnection not release. Wasting time…

“Whoever you are. Let us take her back… our way!” Blake’s voice.

Meanwhile, from his own trapped position above, he remembered still feeling quite shaken.

His mind got lost for a moment in the virtual sunlight mixing with simulated breeze. It was

creating tiny patterns across the water of the pond below. He’d seen this before, in other

sims, but now he was scared of it all. Trapped by it.

Caleb didn’t respond to Blake. He was still watching Prosper carefully who was almost

scolding the shorter, stockier figure:

“We will have to leave all that… now… because I’ve been waiting for you to show me where

you hid her! Now that I know you can tell me what you’ve been doing... If you ever want to

come back… you should start explaining.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I’ve already buried the codes for any hope of return here… I knew things were

getting out of hand… for all of us. Now tell me…”

Simheads? he thought. Addicts. Powerful addicts.

“She was up for it Pete!... You know we’ve all had a lot of fun… maybe it has gone too far…

but it’s also too late…”

“I just don’t trust you anymore…” and Prosper was looking down at the other, still

motionless avatar. “Especially… now…” It seemed he was having trouble finding words.

Blake cut in again. “You’re all at risk. You’ve been in here longer and you’re modified. Why

don’t you work with us, if you really are who you say you are.”

“Hey, you’re not in charge.” Caleb then said more loudly. “We were just doing your job;

testing the capabilities of the system, if you like… and we’ve gone further than anyone! In

fact, I should be showing you… this…” And then his hands parted ruthlessly, completely; a

full gesture. The avatar of Miranda broke up, its limbs spreading out over the dry bank of

the pond. The head rolled off but there was no sound from the female inhabitant. She might

already have passed out in real-time and not witnessed this display on her own virtual

person. But it was a shocking result. She faded out of the system.

“No,” whispered Prosper. Then, louder, “you idiot, it’s not just some game!” and the noise

echoed in the island scene.

No action yet came from Prosper, who still seemed to be holding back. Caleb’s tone was

unexpectedly resigned in the wake of the silence. “I think I am done here... It’s this place

that’s to blame! So… why don’t I be the first to declare this project doomed for closure as a

health risk… along with all of us!” and he started to lift upwards.

“Prosper… stop him for God’s sake,” one of them said. What was he going to do?

“Don’t worry,” spoke the figure, his head following his colleague. “He’s not leaving yet…”

and he tugged at the air and pulled – yanked – Caleb, who crashed back down again, onto his

back, almost sliding into the pool.

Surely a battle was now inevitable, and if Prosper were to lose... well, he felt no fear for

his own avatar, beyond the indignity. They could re-generate. He was afraid for their minds,

embedded in this system. And for Rosa. They had to try and talk reason with them. How

could this happen? But the system; their control over them was impressive. Part of him was

amazed how they’d been victimised here. He had thought they could be hackers after all,

connecting this island to their servers.

He thought of Miranda too. But two men can’t stop a new technology, where there were

always dangers. This place held too much promise. They had to get back to the Neurocean

and begin the careful slip back into reality. At this rate there wasn’t going to be anything

careful about it. And their hands were bound, with no virtual trickery to loosen the vines.

He came back out of memory to the whiskey glass and the kitchen. He put another smart

shot down, burning his dry throat. Why couldn’t he have concentrated better? Maybe the

vines would have come away. He had wanted to see Caleb beaten. He was angry. We’re all

so out of control. We’re just who we come to be. Through the things we’ve seen. But he

had told himself many things, and he didn’t know what was truth now and what was an

excuse. We’re all just products of our times, our cultures, striving to reconcile ourselves

with ourselves, our natures; our needs. He felt the burning inside him. But nature must

function well, and it must be healthy… un-magnified. He brought himself back to the tree;

the super-memory.

They were all angry. And at the island itself. It could mean the end for the project. For all

that proper testing.

Rosa spoke out, while Prosper was taking careful paces towards his fallen foe. “This is a

place for control, but despite this you don’t have any control at all.”

Meanwhile he had tried to concentrate, to focus on the fallen figure of Caleb. He tried the

water first. The pond’s surface stirred but there was nothing. Helpless. He could think only

now of jacking-out, and then trying to disenthrall the others once he was back with Zack in

the control room. Then facing the disconnect.

He closed his eyes to the scene. He knew his legs were in a harness, not stuck to a tree, and

he moved one of them. His emotion didn’t seem to obey. Too involved. Powerless. What

was the command to jack out?

Blake meanwhile sounded flustered, but he heard him voice another bid for reason.

“Prosper,” he said. “You know we make sense. Stop him now and you can save our work and

work with us. Come back with us through the ocean.”

Opening his eyes again he saw the two figures below had not moved, as though they were

preparing themselves. Inventory-searching. Caleb seemed to be taking a long time getting

to his feet after his foiled escape. They may have been very used to mock-fighting each

other. But they weren’t playing anymore.

“It is time to stop Charles,” Prosper’s more careful voice now. “You have gone too far. But

we can still get back. It might be the modification. Being disconnected for too long and we

want to get back here… We need help.”

Caleb replied, “It’s all going to plan if you ask me, Pete.” He was inspecting the dust that

had coated him, but was likely stalling to summon something, which would come soon. “For

what it’s worth I’m sorry about Miranda, but when I’m finished testing you, I’ll move on to

them.” His arm raised and his hand began to turn to make some gesture but Prosper was

ready, and quickly raised his own.

It was dramatic. They were sliding away from one another with the exertion of the force

they were summoning. Prosper had two hands with fingers spread in a certain configuration,

while Caleb had his arm across his forehead. Like Cyberspace wizards. This image has

stayed with me.

Within this there was an exchange. Prosper’s voice again, straining. “Miranda was drugged

wasn’t she?”

“Only a mild mixture. She knew what to expect anyway... Besides, what difference

does that make here? We’re not really doing… anything.”

Prosper broke off, flicking his other hand in a gesture, almost artistic, and a cage appeared

suddenly all around Caleb, trapping him suddenly. It even bounced on the sand.

“You’ve forgotten why we got into all this Charles… Because everything you can imagine…is

real… remember?” A quote by Picasso. It also featured in the Game of Being, a project

which was supposed to prepare gamers for virtual worlds. Prosper flicked his arm next at

Rosa and she fell backwards down onto the sand, released. “Let’s back down now, or we’ll

jeopardise this whole place; our systems, the future. We can work with these guys. We can

face the downer together. It’s not too late.” Blake’s vines broke at the same time and they

were all free now apart from him. Prosper had surely shown he was the better man; the

more powerful, and controlled. But it wasn’t over so fast.

Caleb answered simply and quickly. “No… Pete. I knew this island… was doomed…” He had

his arms clutching the bars and they must all have been hoping it would prove the stronger.

“But I want to know its limits while it’s still ours... Mine.”

The cage that held him burst apart at the corners. A bar came flying right at his own tree

and he flinched as it struck his legs and bounced off, but without pain. It’s just a game. But

he had closed his eyes, his whole body braced for impact.

A part of the cage had also struck Prosper, who stumbled back for a moment, still shielding

himself. He saw re-bounding bars come quickly to rest in front of the tall avatar. At that

range it must have been vivid. This move had cost Caleb though, who clutched his face

while his head moved for a moment, awkwardly. It was the first weakness he had seen,

visibly, besides the earlier desperation in the man’s voice.

Their straining began again and Prosper held it once more, digging his feet into the earth

beside the pond. Their hands had adopted different gestures but it seemed they were just

trying to force each other off balance. Water from the pool was spraying onto Caleb. But

Rosa was free. She flew above the two wrestlers like some nymph, helping to release Blake

and then pushing herself over at him. She went too fast and had to hug the tree above him

to avoid crashing into it. As they struggled with the vines that held him, their heads gazed

back at the action.

This was it, he thought now. The first battle between those who respect a world, and those

who come here with their own problems, inflicting them on others.

“We should try and help him.” Blake said, rashly.

“We all want to, but we just can’t. Let’s get back.”

His arms came free from the tree. Then they took off together, pushing out from the trunk

with their feet in different directions, but not before they saw, suddenly, the demise of

Caleb, beside the water below.

Prosper’s hands went into fists and the added focus seemed to force Caleb to

relax. Overmodified at Prosper’s end, may be. Caleb’s figure shot back hard onto the sandy

ground and rolled once, strangely. It was all the other needed. He made another swift

gesture that summoned a cage again, cementing Caleb from performing gestures. But… one

of his hands had been raised, and was able to do something at Prosper… before Caleb’s form

was dismembered and scattered, quickly fading from the system like Miranda’s.

Disconnected. It was either self-triggered or an unseen power that Prosper seemed to have

acquired. But he was weak now, falling back onto the earth himself, one hand back up,

pressed against his head. Mental fatigue, or something else. It was all so fast.

And meanwhile they began to move away from the island over some trees to a marker,

pointing to the original surface point. The water skimmed past lusciously beneath, but there

was no time to be more concerned with anything but the threat of pursuit.

The marker grew larger, but it wasn’t to be their escape. Blake had fallen back, possibly

pulled. They looked back at him, towards the shore where first they had seen the figures.

Blake was no longer flying, just losing against an invisible force; being tugged back to the

one, lone figure. How had they mastered the new equipment so deeply? The answer was

easy: recklessly and through constant use.

“You go out, Rosa… I’ll go back. He might need help. And we can’t risk all of us.”

She flew close and put a hand out and a palm against his face. It was so quick, but it would

be so memorable in the years afterwards. He’d felt her touch through the mask feedback.

He flew back down to the shore with some renewed concentration. But it was still tentative,

taking him too long to build momentum. He was not sure if he was going to be any help at

all to Blake. But another part of him needed to know more about... everything.

4. Into Thin Air

When he had landed unsteadily on the shore, closing his fingers a little too quickly, Blake

was already in trouble. He had crashed on the sand, and his arms were gone. Like parting

the seas, Prosper’s arms had opened, and they’d ripped them off and been thrown them in

separate directions, leaving Blake helpless, trying to use the tree again with his mind to

swipe at the still powerful blue figure.

So he had spoken straight at Prosper, to that thin wizard face of his. “Let me take him

back…” He had started to say.

But there was no deviation. The rest of Blake scattered too and faded out of the

system. Gone into the air. He hadn’t seen another gesture unless it was done with the

mind. Or he hoped Blake had manually triggered it, to deprive Prosper of any pleasure. But

they hadn’t known what the consequences would be.

“Ok, what’s your next move?” he’d challenged, landing boldly and walking towards the

virtual man. “Are you going to stay here alone now?” He actually felt elated still by the

fluidity of the interface, but so much anger too at this whole event. The intrusion. The

violation of their program, their avatars.

Prosper’s tone was much diminished now. “I am…weak now…” His hand came up to his face

again and his expression changed into one of contained distress. “It’s the system, I think the

downer’s begun.” He slumped down on his knees onto the shore. Small, simulated dust

spread out effectively. He realized how the light was changing to evening as orange light

sparkled in the particles.

“Then why thrust Blake out of the system..?”

There was a silence, apart from the virtual sound of the virtual waves. The changed man

was looking out at the ocean.

“In... the... way… and I wanted… to speak to you, Ben…” A pause, as his hands ran over his

face. “Look… it was my test. I wanted to see when Caleb would… turn. I thought I’d wait

until you three arrived… to be sure… But by then I was too enthralled myself and I wasn’t

able to help Miranda… And, you know… I did so want this project to succeed.”

More whiskey please, Ben. As more of Prosper’s last words came back to him.

“But we have this struggle for life… inside us… a heaven and hell… I think they’re formed by

what we, or this potent world, those worlds to come… need or want of us… Too much

beauty, desire… they’re terrible… ” His calm way of speaking and these words in particular

would echo on into his future, through his dedication to his work for the Spiral, that was

meant to be a harmonizing force, to bring cybernauts - lost like this one - back to the shore

of the Source.

That Prosper or the interface had finally weakened was a relief. He seemed pretty broken at

last. He was taking effort to summon the words.

So he felt pity now. “You showed a good fight back there… But you should have left it to us

to complete the testing. For this island of yours… it is potent. And you’re brought the wrong

people in here and it’s affected all of us now.”

“It hadn’t started that way... We just wanted to experience it… ourselves.”

The hand went to the temple, massaging the IBH equipment that existed in reality but

wasn’t visible here.

“I couldn’t control Caleb… didn’t realise he’d been spending too much time in the wrong

web-worlds. And there is one emerging… Bedlam.” He had heard of it, even then, and

Prosper had been wise to warn him. But back then he was still annoyed.

“You should never have come here. You’re not ready like we... were. Now you’re unhinged

and need help. But you should have sought it out as soon as you could.” He found that he

could express a truth back too. “Our environment must be right for us, real or unreal. If

places like these are too much for us…” He looked once more up at the rustling palm leaves.

“Then they’ll be limited... locked down… or protected.” He turned away now and walked

back down to the waves.

Turning once more he said, “You’d better not have harmed anyone through this…” But he

had.

He heard a sudden inhalation. “Wait... If I don’t make it out… Please… try and re-sync

Miranda… I’m too involved here…”

“Where is she jacked-in?”

The face was contorted beneath the two hands that covered most of it. “My house. On the

company campus.”

“So you really are Peter Giger?” He was a tall figure. One of the top investors. He’d been in

tons of interviews promoting the Virtual World Interfaces.

“My head… Ben you might feel this too, I’m afraid.” He referred to the Line. Like virtual

bends. He’d be right.

“Well, at least try and use our procedure to leave. The one you’ve been funding.”

“It is too late for anyone. Caleb’s sabotaged the ocean somehow… I couldn’t stop that… I

wanted to save her.” He was on all fours now, looking at the sand, scrunching it under his

gloves.

He felt a big pang of concern now for his own mind and soul. And for Rosa. They’d have to

just take their chances. But this could be his last chance to get answers.

“Is it true? About the codes for all this?” The tide kept coming in perfectly onto the

bewitching shore.

“Yes it’s buried… for now.”

“That’s for the best. But what about the Neuroceans?

“Not yet...But they won’t last, they can’t… not now.”

There was no time for more discussion, and no energy by the looks of it. Prosper’s magic

was fading as he fell over onto his side. But Rosa was waiting. All he could manage was one

last handful of words:

“Of course we’ll try and get to her… and the others to come.”

He opened his hands and lifted into the air, inhaling, leaving the troubled form to his own

limited choices. He seemed so broken now compared to his presence on arrival, that it was

a sorry sight.

He tried to enjoy the freedom of the short flight over the water again, but he was still

conscious of the figure on the shore of the uncertain cyberspace. It felt like he was running

from a new world before it could be explored, because of… Indians… within. There was even

a chance Caleb could re-connect and try and stop them leaving it. Maybe he has.

Soon, thankfully, he was looking down now onto Rosa’s puzzled face, bobbing up and down

within her waves. She had waited. Rosa. She asked him what had happened, but he was too

worried about what Giger had said about the ocean: “I’ll tell you on the way down, let’s

just go. And if anything happens, we’ll have to take our chances and… disconnect.”

Her head went under, and next he followed, bound for the dark wonder of simulated water.

But just as he was about to go under again, he faced the distant shore one last time, and

saw the lone figure there get back to his feet with a slow effort. A large wave stole his view

and it washed over him. He looked back again for the figure but it was no longer there. He

searched about and could see that Prosper/Giger’s avatar had fallen down again… to the

sand… passed out?

He thought about going back. He hesitated. A simple choice, Ben.

How long had Prosper been jacked-in? How much was their system responsible, and how

much was already there? We’d never really know.

‘If people have no need for these places they will not exist.’ The words came to his ears,

but he couldn’t place the voice, was it Blake, still adrift between two worlds?

He dived. The blue brilliance surrounded him as he willed himself under. There were five or

six waypoints to reach beneath him, each of them diminishing the brainwave control and by

gradation, re-sensitising his mind to real-world physics.

As he got towards the second base however, a bright cage appeared all around him. Oh just

great. It prevented some of the gestures and movements he’d been learning for the process.

He thought getting down might still be possible. He had sunk down further… but then… no…

both he and the cage began to drift slowly up to the surface…and someone might have been

up there again, reeling him back. I’m not going to get out of this unscathed… not enough

time… It was the truth that had dawned on him. He could message to Rosa to come back up

to help… but what could she do? We’re still out of our depth here.

He placed his hands out and clutched the cage bars. The glove responded to simulate the

pressure. He rose slowly. A monkey caged in its dream world. Looking out was the shadowy

blueness, but looking up was the clean surface of the ocean above him, as beautiful and as

entrancing as in reality. Somehow more attractive, because it wasn’t reality, not dangerous.

It was creative fabric, like looking at a painting very close up. But was there also a black

shadow above it, the distorted figure of another predator in themselves, that had been

waiting for them here?

The sounds of the water were muffled in his ears. Quiet. He didn’t want to leave. He

wanted to stay and fly and shape this world with his thoughts. To bend those trees again

and start to build new creations. But then he thought of Rosa, her smile, and what she had

just been through. The memory. It was then that he spoke carefully the phrase to jack out:

“Rounded with a sleep!” Still watching the light and the surface, he let his arms go loose in

the pseudo-water, and, as the cage disintegrated with the whole ocean he stretched them

out behind him, with his palms upwards.

Everything faded quickly into the blackness of the facemask. There was silence as the

underwater audio sounds were cut off. He’d lost the world and tried to get bearings but

couldn’t and he could just remember scrambling to remember his limbs, and where he was,

before it became too much and he lost consciousness.

He knew Rosa’s real warmth and her face were there when he woke, moving above him and

it helped. A dizziness was there in his head and some nausea too; he’d sat up quickly to

steady himself. The result increased the disorientation and any words became a sob. But she

was there, he could feel an arm around him, and the mask off, and the gloves.

“I think I’m ok,” he’d managed to say, finally. Rosa was looking down into eyes, searching

for me. It was good to see eyes again. Especially yours.

“I’m here,” she had whispered. She put a hand through his hair.

“Thank God.” His thoughts started up again. “We should get to the girl… Miranda,” he said.

“Apparently, she’s at Immertech. Giger’s house.”

“Ok… but listen, Ben. We’re all bad. Blake is… bad. Zack took him off, but he wasn’t making

any sense. He can’t get balance. I feel… awful. It was all too quick.”

They’d found Miranda Finch a drug-fueled wreck and Peter Giger still attached to his

equipment but dead from a form of embolism. Charles ‘Caleb’ Rooney was on a floor,

comatose after a failed struggle to reconnect again to his equipment.

They’d discovered that Rooney and Giger had spent an enormous quantity of time on the

new system. They had modified their interface in increments and it had proved hugely

addictive. Still, the project was quickly closed down.

It wouldn’t take long for them to fall apart too. Blake went comatose shortly afterwards, at

the hospital, and instabilities grew worse in Rosa, despite her attempt at using the

procedure. The following days she began to suffer from serious withdrawal and mental

depression. They tried to reach her but she had disappeared. It was too much for her. I lost

you. He couldn’t have known where she’d gone because he had been too bad himself at the

time. It had been a change too strong for any of them.

Perhaps the only thing that had saved him was thanks to Zack, who managed to get him

back into the system, and perform the ‘swimming’ procedure enough times to re-sync him.

It was only the continued immersion and submersion that relieved the shock of the

disconnection. The mind does not like to feel helpless. Even following this, many symptoms

of disorientation still remained and recurred. His concentration suffered greatly also, but he

had been lucky. He was a survivor.

The others had been murdered by the absorption, the interface, by our own project.

Though not entirely.

5. The Way Back

He closed his eyes with one hand trembling considerably on the small glass while his news

pages came up on the wall screen. When his eyes re-opened they fell onto the freeze-frame

he’d seen that morning. It showed his pale, younger self emerging with Rosa from the

Immertech headquarters after the session, being supported by Zack and some paramedics.

Not depraved-looking. Deprived.

Then the vision came back to him of those two figures, waiting for them on the shore of

their secret island. Perhaps the most sinister moment in the whole experience, seeing them

from a distance. And the leaves on the trees of the island gently, seductively moving.

‘If people have no need for these places they will not exist.’ He wondered at the words, as

the last person to have been in the Neuroceans. It could even have been Caleb suggesting,

perhaps, that such realms would always be realms of power and stolen liberties. Certainly

he’d seen such places since. Or had it been Peter Giger, hoping he would understand his

curiosity better.

Since then, after the island automatically disappeared, the system had been altered

dramatically. He’d helped ensure it. The Neuroceans were shut down, and the interfaces

were altered following the widespread knowledge of the cause of the comas, and his report

concerning surfacing and the effects of the Line. He had received some compensation for

the initial side effects, which included an overwhelming urge to ‘focus’ again. The perfect

control over a world.

Then he’d thrown himself back into work, developing ideas and code for a new type of sim,

dedicated to revealing the wonders of the natural world. It would begin as a multi-player

survival education game. It would use the older interfaces… for now. It was his spiritual

therapy and an attempt at promoting ‘confluence’ he knew Blake would have appreciated.

And how much I’d liked to have shown it to you. The plans for Fountellion, a new island.

But by then you’d been turned off… forever.

Its positive effect had won him fame and some peace of mind. And it had helped cure him in

many ways and might cure others. Though never completely. It couldn’t erase memories.

And now these news items recently, telling him that the new interfaces were emerging

again - those of the Immertech variety - and the Neurocean case would soon be re-opened;

he knew it. He’d known it would be coming. People want to transcend. And who would be

there to supervise and ensure proper procedures? Would they let him back, as a previous

victim of its dangers? No… he was already partially unhinged. But I have less to lose.

Had the sensation up on the ladder been the effects of a new plain of reality? Had they felt

it? That the mind creates this world. To them, it had been all too real.

Blake had told him once, “We will detach our minds from the worlds where they were born

and fasten onto new ones.” They were back in New Sherwood. “We will cross the Line.”

“There will be more coming. Much more. It’s the next evolution. Playing games with the

brain.”

Confluence though? That had been their mission.

There was no doubt that new interfaces would be extremely powerful in virtual super-

immersion. But as his mental condition testified, the boundary was worrying. There was still

much to do in testing the technology and in acclimatisation, and without something…

without inspiration… to keep people… grounded, there would be more negativity to come;

more abuse. Bedlam.

There are more things in heaven and earth…

Outside, a gust of wind blew at the leaves on the poplar trees and swayed them. Some of

them were ripped off and joined the wind.

We live and we learn… but how life punishes us for living… without some wisdom of what

life is… all around us… and within.

I’m not out of it… just yet…

The thirty-nine year-old man still stood, staring at the floor in blankness, awaiting more

thoughts to reach where they would be at peace. His virtual powers meant nothing to the

simple room where he stood. But he had done his training. He may not be a father, but

he was an innovator; a pathfinder. It was his life and the meaning that it had for him. And

perhaps it would lead again to that greater transcendence, that perfect interface. Would

people be ready for it this time, after the lessons they had learnt? Perhaps it would lead to

something beyond, for civilisation. Something total. Beyond the line to some new state of

being. Or perhaps something closer to what he had always really been looking for… a

greater connection with this world… the Source. For a moment he just stared at the restless

motion of the wind through tree-leaves beyond the window.

It will all evolve, he thought wearily. Possibly, but sometimes evolution made the wrong

adaptations, and too fast. As I have seen.

The girl’s face appeared again in his mind, the wind blowing the flower loose from her hair,

and she laughs, taken by surprise, and by the wind. A great tree behind her. It was a vision

she had given him. He now knew – for sure – that it had never happened, but that Rosa had

sent it and he had found it sometime later. A piece of VR video, sent by her diminishing

profile to his Inbox. It was you. She had wanted him to see it, keeping it for him maybe, just

in case anything had gone wrong. The resonance of it had stayed with him; had saved him

from falling off the ladder completely.

Oh Rosa.

Her face was younger, before their work had begun, and he had lost her. And they had lost

Blake. He thought again of their bright, simulated faces, bobbing on the surface of a new

ocean. Almost there. For one, true time, they had all believed in one another, and their

work; the virtual future. His feelings swam towards the goodness of it, and within his own

life, and believed that it could still be applied to a future. He was sure these memories,

now that he had faced them again, would be the strengths to bring back, up to the surface.

One final dram into the stomach. But it would be no passing, whiskey-fuelled resolution. For

he would start packing his things again tomorrow - for the Division.

Rosa, I’m resolved. It was cooler outside, with a breeze rising. This world wills it, through

me. It blew again, and he would go out into it, and back into it.

Nothing else, but to go back…

To more work. More designing. More virtual testing. And the completion of Fountellion, his

nature world.

There was a famous quote: ‘When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain he wept for

there were no more worlds to conquer.’

A sudden image; of a vast, shining tower reaching into a dark, never-ending sky appeared in

his now addled mind.

On the contrary, there will be too many.

If you’re interested in reading more stories about Dr. Ben Fielding and the futuristic Spiral Gameworld

of Fountellion, please read Spiral 2.65. Also you can follow me on Twitter @ademcocampbell and

register Like interest/comments on Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/GreenwiseArt

I hope you enjoyed the ideas and themes in this story, originally written in 2009, at the birth of Emotiv

Systems, (see EEG, or Electroencephalography), and dedicated to a friend Danny Melvin.

This revised version 2015.