“You don’t believe me, do you?” asked Kim bluntly.
“I don’t know. You, I believe. I think.” Kim’s features turned gloomy. “As for your body-less friend… How do you communicate with him, Kim?”
“Through the net.”
“You do understand that I have no intention of letting him into the ship’s network. Any other options?”
“Hook up to the crystal directly. His home is there… his own virtual world. Just talk to him, Alex! You’ll see right away—it’s all true!”
“You love him so very much?” asked Alex.
“Yes, I do!” Kim looked at him proudly. “But not the way I love you. You’re my lover. And Ed… he’s like a brother. Or maybe even a child. He’s so helpless, you know, inside the crystal. And there are many things he doesn’t understand, even though he’s a genius.”
“You got yourself into a colossal mess, Kim!”
“I know.” The girl nodded. “But I couldn’t act any other way.”
Alex almost let slip that everything would have turned out quite differently had she been an ordinary fighter-spesh. As soon as she was past the metamorphosis, she would have gotten such a boost of civic responsibility that she’d personally take “Ed” back to that hypothetical lab.
But Kim was not just a fighter. She was also a hetaera. Highly emotional, amorous, devoted… as long as she felt that someone needed her.
And that was where the whole thing got messy.
“My ethical side,” Alex slowly began, “does not predispose me to follow other planets’ laws blindly. That would be a very dangerous quality to have, and so I must make decisions based on universal human morality. But… all this is rather complicated, Kim. I must have a talk with your friend.”
“You have a neuro-shunt?” asked the girl simply.
“Most probably.”
He opened a desk drawer and, just as he expected, found a standard neuro-shunt, for reading books, watching movies, and making excursions into virtual spaces. It was a headband with a neuro-terminal microchip sewn onto it and a soft, plastic, sticky patch with a gel-port. The shunt was of a cheap variety. The headband and the sticky patch were connected by a thin extension of optical fiber. But Alex didn’t care.
Kim silently watched him put on the headband and reopen the processor panel. The feeder-fibers had already wrapped themselves around the giant gel-crystal, which sustained Edgar’s whole world. Alex had to separate them in order to hook the sticky patch to the crystal.
“Maybe I should be the one to go in first?” suggested Kim sheepishly.
“I’ll go first. You’ll go next.”
“He might get scared. He doesn’t know about any of the stuff that happened since we ran away from Edem.”
“I’ll calm him down.”
“Tell him I said ‘hi,’” Kim managed to add, right before Alex sat down in the chair and activated the shunt.
Chapter 3
Each gate to a virtual world opens in its own unique way.
Some with a bright flash, a cascade of lightning, or a series of colorful rainbows.
Others with utter darkness, in which a world slowly takes form.
Whatever the world, a threshold is necessary—a place to prepare, to take the first couple of steps towards the nonexistent spaces.
The creator of this particular world, however, did not believe in introductions. Alex instantly found himself surrounded by the universe locked inside the gel-crystal.
He found himself standing on a riverbank, waist-deep in lush meadow grass, his feet sinking down into the soft, soggy mud. The river was straight as if drawn with a ruler, wide and unhurried, its cold clear waters rolling past languidly. About ten paces away was the edge of a thick wood of dark conifers. It stretched the length of both banks. Over the waters flowing toward the horizon, right above the middle of the river’s course, the sun was setting. Alex didn’t know if the terms “east” and “west” were appropriate in this situation, but he was sure it was evening.
An interesting world. It looked like a giant playground. A place where a dragon might suddenly fly up, or a mermaid might lift her head out of the water. Well, according to Kim, this world had been a child’s creation. And even if this child was now years older, it mattered little—those who spent a lot of time in virtuality were slow to grow up.
“Edgar!”
Alex slowly plodded toward the woods. The gel-crystal dweller should be nearby. He had to have sensed the presence of an intruder. That would mean the boy was hiding, watching closely, still not sure whether to make contact. In his small universe, he was a king and a god. He could easily toss Alex out. But the boy was not stupid. He had to understand that his microcosm depended fully on those who held the gel-crystal in their hands. A hard blow, or a few seconds in the microwave, and that would be the end.
“Edgar, I know you’re here!” Alex shouted out. “I’m not your enemy!”
He preferred to avoid saying “friend” just yet.
“Kim wanted us to talk! She says ‘hi’! Edgar!”
“I’m here.”
Alex turned around.
In his own world, Edgar could look any way he chose. He could be a giant, towering a hundred yards tall. A monster. An innocuous-looking scientist. Or a warrior.
But the boy looked as though he preferred his normal appearance—if one could use such a term to describe someone who had no real body. A youth in his teens, awkward and lanky, with a pale, untanned face and black hair, long in need of a cut. He was barefoot. He wore only a pair of pants cropped below the knee and… glasses. This antique trinket on his face looked rather weird.
“I’m Alex,” the pilot said.
“I know.”
“How?”
“You left me an entry channel yourself. Thanks.” The boy’s voice bore no trace of irony. But not much real gratitude, either. His was the tone one might use to thank an executioner for promising to take extra care to sharpen his ax.
“I’m glad you’re well informed.” Alex smiled. It hadn’t occurred to him that the crystal-dweller could download data from the sensors inside the captain’s quarters. Well, nothing could be done about that now. “So then you know that Kim managed to complete your plan.”
“Complete?” Edgar frowned and sat down on the grass, crossing his legs. “If she had managed to complete it, she’d be working somewhere on a quiet planet, no one would know about the crystal, and in a few years, I’d get a new body.”
After a minute’s hesitation, Alex sat down beside him. The damp dirt was unpleasantly cool to the touch. But this was virtual dampness—no risk of getting sick from sitting on it.
“If your story is true, then your plan will be completed just as you say,” he told the boy. “Working on a spaceship, Kim can make money way faster than on any planet.”
“And why should I believe you?” asked Edgar testily.
“Why? A difficult question. You’re a genetic construction specialist, right?”
The boy gave a vague shrug.
“Which gene is responsible for my ethical qualities?”
Edgar smiled at such a simple test.
“Not just one gene. You have a whole complex of genes activated—the Zey-Matushenski complex, also known as the Aristotle Operon. It is responsible for your heightened honesty and your need to seek out the truth. And it’s also a very strong behavioral operon that strengthens your parenting instincts. Subconsciously, you consider all the people who enter your life to be your children. You feel they all need you to care for them and to defend them, regardless of age, real abilities, or even their wishes. The genetic Kamikaze complex, or, rather, the Gostello Operon, as it is properly called, was discovered by Russian scientists. It makes you always ready to sacrifice yourself. You have several other minor alterations, but those I just listed are the main ones.”