This wasn't just a view from a bedroom window, this was an overview of every living person in the world. No matter how rich or how wretched. I was jealous and angry with every single one of them. Because they were still living and I was not.
But none more so than Billy Barnes.
He was responsible for my death. And he was the one who would pay.
'I'll find him!' I shouted. 'And I'll haunt him. I'll haunt him until he dies, and then I'll meet with him face to face and kick his head in.'
The thought of eternal revenge cheered me slightly, but then another thought entered my head. If I was dead, then where was I? I wasn't in hell, but this sure as hell wasn't heaven.
The third and most obvious option had to be limbo. And if I was in limbo then it meant that God hadn't yet made up his mind about which way to send me. And if that was the case, then it might be a. wise move to dispel all thoughts of anger and revenge and concentrate more upon peace and tranquillity and things of that nature.
Then I could get up amongst the choirs celestial with the all but certain knowledge that Billy Barnes would be getting his comeuppance in the furnaces below.
And that thought cheered me up no end at all.
But I hastily struck it from my mind. That was gloating over another's impending misfortune wasn't it? And that was sinful, surely? God wouldn't go for that kind of thing. God only went for purity of thought.
'Shit!' I said. 'That's a tricky one. How can you have purity of thought, when you know deep down inside that having purity of thought is something that will get you into heaven? That makes purity of thought a motive in itself rather than purity of thought for its own sake. And therefore it's not purity of thought. It's impurity of thought.'
'That's your basic human dilemma when it comes to matters spiritual,' said the wandering mendicant.
I looked across at him and nodded.
'I'll have another pint of best bitter, if you please,' he said and I got up to get in the round.
And then I looked all around myself. And then I sat back down. 'I'm in the Jolly Gardeners,' I said. 'What the f-'
'It's a cushion,' said the mendicant. 'You need someone you can trust.'
'I what?'
'You trust Andy, don't you? Ask him.'
'I do trust Andy. How did you know that?'
'I don't. I only know what you know. Ask Andy. Ask Andy what's going on.'
'I will.' I stumbled over to the bar. 'њWhat the fuck's going on?' I asked Andy. 'What the fuck am I doing here? I'm dead.'
'You're not dead,' said the barman, shaking his head. 'Dismiss such thoughts from your mind.'
'How can I do that? What's going on?'
'You've been downloaded,' said Andy. 'Into the Necronet.'
'The Necronet? What's that?'
'It's a virtual world. A computer simulation.'
'You mean I'm inside a computer game?'
'It's not a game,' said Andy. 'But that's what you're in. You're experiencing a holographic representation of reality. The reality is your reality, created from your memories and experiences. You're thinking this.'
'You mean I'm dreaming it? I'm asleep and dreaming?'
'It's not a dream. You won't wake up.'
'I don't understand any of this.'
'Have a drink,' said Andy. 'You'll feel better once you've, had a drink.'
'Yes,' I said. 'Yes. All right. Give me a pint of Death by Cider. No! Strike that. Give me one of those Long Life beers.'
'Coming right up.' Andy pulled me a pint and passed it across. 'Taste it,' he said. 'Tell me if it isn't the best lager you've ever tasted in your life.'
I raised the glass to my lips. 'It won't be,' I told him. 'The best lager I ever had in my life was in India when I was doing the Hippy Trail back in the Sixties. I remember it as if it was only yesterday. Well, today actually.' I took a sip. 'And this is just what it tasted like,' I said very slowly.
'Digital memory,' said Andy. 'Think about it for a moment. You have total recall, don't you? Of everything you've ever done or seen. You remembered being in the Egyptian gallery and so you relived it exactly as it happened. Just think for a moment, try it.'
I thought for a moment. And I tried to imagine being able to recall everything I'd ever seen and everything I'd ever done all at once. And it hit me like a tidal wave.
I staggered back from the bar.
'Systems overload,' said Andy. 'Reboot and start again.'
I shook my head. I stamped at the floor. 'This floor is real,' I told Andy. 'This is no computer simulation.'
'Then it's not being dead either, is it?'
'No,' I said. 'I suppose not.'
'So can you get a grip of that? You're not dead. Keep telling yourself you're not dead.'
'I'm not dead,' I said. And I liked the sound of it. 'I'm not dead. I'm not dead. Hey, everybody! I'm not dead!'
'What's all this?' asked Sean O'Reilly, breezing in. 'Did you say you weren't dead?'
'I'm not dead, Sean,' I said. 'I thought I was, but I'm not. Isn't that brilliant?'
'Brilliant,' said Sean. 'Have you read any good books lately? I've just read this one by Johnny Qu-'
'Hang about,' I said, turning back to Andy. 'I still don't get any of this. This is real, this place. I can feel it, smell it. It's solid.'
'That's how you remember it,' said Andy.
'You mean it's built from my memories?'
'Thought has substance here.'
'I don't understand. But, wait, no, hang about. If I'm inside a computer simulation, how do I turn it off? How do I get out again? Have I got some kind of virtual reality headset on or something? 'Where are the controls?'
'I'm not programmed to provide that information.
'Programmed? 'Who programmed you?'
'I am a product of Necrosoft Industries. I am here to provide you with all the information you require to make your stay here a pleasant one.'
'I don't want to stay here,' I said. 'I want to get out. Tell me how to get out.'
'I am not programmed to provide that information.'
'Then tell me who is.'
'Access denied,' said Andy.
'Oh yeah?'
'Oh yeah,' said Andy. 'But listen, just think about it. 'Why would you want to get out? Here you have total recall. A digital memory. You can call to mind anything wonderful that's ever happened to you and relive it, whenever you choose, again and again, as often as you want. You can explore this world, travel to any part of it. It's not just composed of your memories, there are thousands of others, a worldwide database. Limitless scope for experience and development. For ever and ever.'
'Bollocks,' I said. 'Outside in the real world, I'm going to have to go to the toilet sooner or later. I'll have to take the headset off.'
'Don't think about that,' said Andy. 'Think only of the possibilities. No harm can come to you here. There's no sickness, no death, only the exchange of experience and information. So much to see, so much to learn. So much to enjoy.'
'You sound like a bloody travel commercial.'
'How dare you,' said Andy. 'I'm an information package.'
'You can stuff your information. I want out.'
'You can't get out,' said Andy. 'Put such thoughts from your mind, or-'
'Or what?'
'Or it may be necessary to initiate a programme of corrective therapy.'
'And what is that supposed to mean?'
'I am not programmed to provide that information.'
'I'll just bet you're not.' I took my perfect pint and returned to my favourite corner. I was angry. Not quite so angry as I had been. But still pretty angry.
But then was it real anger?
After all, I was sitting in a virtual pub, drinking virtual beer, so perhaps it was only virtual anger.
'No,' I said to myself. 'It's real anger all right. And I'll get out of here somehow. I'm not spending the rest of my life inside a computer simulation, no matter how good the beer tastes. I can't be bought off with a digital memory and a limitless scope for experience. So what if I can live out again the most wonderful moments of my life in perfect detail?'