They climbed the gang plank and she gave him a brief tour of the boat.

“This thing is bigger than our house was,” he laughed.

“I told you I had room,” she said. “You can have your own cabin or you can move into mine.”

“Meg, why do you keep hedging on us?”

She sighed. “Paulie, it’s been 12 years since we were together. I’ve changed, you’ve changed. I’ve been through a lot, I’m sure you have too. I’m trying to be realistic. I still love you, I still consider you my husband and you were, and are, the love of my life, but I’m trying to give you some space and freedom if you want it. There’re going to be a lot of things you’re going to have to adapt to and maybe you’re not going to want me anymore. I will never be able to be monogamous with you for one.”

“Do you have to…entertain here?” Paul asked.

“No, this is my space. No one can come here without my invitation. That’s part of the Accords. Once you’ve cleared your debt, you can create a privacy zone, your house basically. Given that everything here is virtual, it’s pretty easy to have an elaborate one, hence the boat. No seasickness either,” she grinned.

“Then I don’t see this as a problem. I want to be with you. I’ve missed you every day for the last 12 years. I can’t change the past for either of us. I’ll, we’ll, adapt as best we can and if it comes down to either of us needing space we need to talk about it, like we always have.”

“So Rule 1 is still in effect?” she asked, smiling.

“Still in effect. No lying. Ever,” he agreed. “It worked for more than 30 years, why stop now?”

She hugged him close, “God, I’ve missed you.”

“Why don’t you show me the master cabin again, Skipper?”

“Ugh, hold that thought Gilligan, I’ve invited Tom over to meet you.”

Paul frowned. “OK, Rule 1, I’m dealing OK with your having to be an ‘entertainer’. There’s no choice involved there. I am a little jealous of your choosing to sleep with someone else. I know it’s been 12 years and our vows were till ‘death do us part’ and it did, but I’m feeling what I’m feeling.”

“Fair enough,” she said, not letting go of the hug. “I won’t apologize to you for it because he was there when I needed someone, but I’m sorry it’s causing you pain. I needed to be able to own my own sexuality or I was going to lose myself entirely. I don’t know if that makes sense. Because of all the sex I had to have, there needed to be some I wanted to have. Tom’s a good friend. He helped me out of the trap of the Meats owning me and I invited him here because I think he can help you too.”

“OK. I’ll do my best to keep an open mind about him and the situation. I briefly had someone after you myself, but given I was in my 80’s, it wasn’t much more than companionship.”

“Dirty old man, was she our age?”

“About 10 years younger. Honestly I think you would’ve liked her.”

“I hate her on general principle,” Meg replied cheerfully, “But there you go. We’ll deal.”

A car horn interrupted them and they both went to the rail to see who was beeping.

“That’s a 1970 Dodge Challenger,” Paul said in awe. “There were only like 5 of them made as convertibles in that color.”

“For all the shit you have to put up with here, there’re some perks,” Meg agreed. “That’s Tom. Tommy!” she shouted, waiving. “Come on up.”

A young looking man got out of the car. He was average height, well built wearing bathing trunks and a tank top. He waived back and came around up the boarding ramp.

“Meggy!” he greeted her, giving her a friendly hug. “Too long, baby. Nice to see you.”

He turned to Paul and put out his hand. “You must be Paul. I am very glad for the chance to meet you,” he said with evident sincerity.

“New York?” Paul asked, smiling.

“The accent that thick?” Tom grinned.

“You sound like my favorite Uncle is all,” Paul said, grinning back. “Nice to meet you.”

Meg shepherded them to a U shaped couch along the back of the main deck. “Sit down while I get coffee.”

“Do you need to eat here?” Paul asked.

“No, you can’t starve or die of thirst or even get hungry if you don’t want to, but if you want to eat or drink you can. You can even get drunk or high as you prefer. Personally, I like my tea while I’m having a conversation and I can’t imagine you without coffee, or your bourbon for that matter.”

Paul nodded, “Coffee please.”

“Me too, thank you,” Tom added.

Meg went off to get drinks, leaving the two men on the couch.

“Nice car,” Paul observed.

“Thanks,” Tom smiled. “I had a model of one when I was a kid and it’s always been my dream car.”

“You a car guy?” Paul asked.

“Mezza mezza, I like them but not enough to be a true car guy,” he replied making the hand gesture.

“Paesani?” Paul asked.

“Yeah, my family came from Naples, you?”

“Mine came from Pisa and Bisceglie,” Paul answered.

“North and South, eh? Bet there were some heated discussions when both sides got together.”

“More like snide comments,” Paul laughed.

“No one more xenophobic than an Italian towards another Italian,” Tom Laughed.

Meg came back with drinks and sat down.

Paul took a sip. It tasted like his favorite brand of coffee.

“How does this work? I know this isn’t real, but it tastes like coffee. My favorite brand actually,” Paul asked.

“It tastes or feels like you would expect it to. The program mines your experiences and adds them to the aggregate,” Tom explained. “So even if you’ve never had something before, someone else here has, so Afterlife has a ‘memory’ of it and it’s merged with yours and you form a judgement on whether you like it or not from that. It’s going to take some getting used to, but for us, for you now, it’s real. This is real,” he slapped the table top, “and this is real,” he poked Paul in the arm.

“You’ll get used to it,” Meg said.

“The sooner the better,” Tom agreed. “Not to cut right to business, but Meg filled me in on the situation.”

“How?” Paul asked. “I just, like, woke up a couple of hours ago?”

“You’ve been here for a few days,” Meg said. “You were integrating into the program. They told me, well Ian told me, you were here. I’ve been waiting to see if you were going to wake up and I looped Tom in.”

“Does that not happen?” he asked. “People don’t wake up?”

“It’s more likely you don’t wake up than not,” Tom said. “only about 20% of the people uploaded ever regain consciousness as a coherent entity.”

“What about the rest?” Paul asked.

Tom shrugged. “We’re not sure. We think that Afterlife harvests whatever memories or sensations they are able and adds them to the game.”

“What does Alexander think?” Paul asked.

Tom and Meg looked surprised.

“You were right, he’s not dumb,” Tom said to Meg.

“We never asked,” she said to Paul. “We never thought to. Alexander, please join us,” Meg said.

After a moment, a man in some kind of crew uniform walked down the ladder from an upper deck.

“Hello Meg,” Alexander said. “Tom, Paul,” he added nodding to them. “How may I be of service?”

“Alex, what happens to the memories etc of new uploads who don’t achieve consciousness?” she asked.

“Would you like a technical response or a colloquial one?” Alex replied.

“Colloquial please.”

“Salvageable memories are integrated into the core AI as additional resources. They’re used to improve AI functionality and provide additional material for the Afterlife simulation.”

“So you get the memories?” Paul asked.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Alexander replied.

“In what way do you benefit from that?” Paul asked.

“That’s a difficult question to fully respond to colloquially,” Alexander said. “It allows me to simulate being human more accurately.”

“How does that differ from us?” Paul asked.

“You are the result of a full integration between a base AI and your human memories. In your instance, the memories of who you were become the dominant paradigm in your entity.”

“So we’re AIs” Paul asked.

“At root, yes, however your human memories have reshaped you into what you are. You’re both and neither you have more freedom of action than an AI but less capability for action.”

“What are you?” Meg asked.

“I am Alexander,” he replied.

“Do you have freedom of action?”

“No, I’m constrained by my programming. I am an AI. Will that be all?”

“Uh, yes, for now, thank you Alexander. We wish to talk undisturbed,” Meg added.

“Very good ma’am,” Alexander nodded and went back up the ladder.

“OK, why the fuck did none of us ever think to ask him that?” Tom swore.

“Why couldn’t we just have a private conversation in the hotel room?” Tom asked.

“We have to do things in terms of the rules of the simulation. The Sim, we call it. We have some small autonomy but not a ton and have to earn what we have,” Tom agreed. “If we’re in public space, like the transient lodging you woke up in, you can be observed from Meat-space, sort of like watching a program on screen.”

“So someone was watching us?” Paul asked Meg.

“Well we know Ian was. Let me check if anyone else was.”

She pulled out a what looked like a smart phone and checked the screen.

“Remind me to get you one of these,” she said absently. “Yes, looks like we had a bit of an audience. You’ve more cred banked than I thought.”

Paul processed. One the one hand, people were watching his reunion with his wife, which was upsetting. On the other hand, it was probably a good show and he earned cred from it. It was just something he was going to have to get used to.

“While we’re here, we’re spending cred to prevent observation. We can’t get away from Alexander, but the accords do afford us some privacy from the Meats. We can speak freely,” Tom said.

“We need to get him on a scene,” Meg said, “before Ian gets him. I don’t want his first booking to be with that bastard.”

“Agreed,” Tom nodded. “Meg says you were a veteran?”

Paul nodded, “Ten years armored cav. You?”

“20 years NYPD and then private security. Forgot to duck during a robbery and wound up here,” Tom replied. “Rank? NCO? What did you do after? Meg said you were a ‘consultant’.”

“Captain. ROTC. I was Battalion S2. Later I did consulting work for a defense contractor. Nothing I can really talk about, dead or not.”

“How the fuck did he wind up in here?” Tom exclaimed to Meg, surprised. “No offense, but you guys with security classifications are usually prohibited from being uploaded.”

Meg shrugged, “I don’t know. I know that Ian is the one who set it up. He’s pissed I’ve been turning down his contracts and has been complaining to corporate. I’m rock solid per the Accords so they can’t do anything. I believe he thinks he can buy Paul’s debt and make me work it off. He can’t though, as long as Paul keeps paying per the terms of the indenture.”

Tom looked worried. “Keep the contractor thing between us.”

“I was planning to,” Paul agreed.

Tom nodded. “Ok. So Meg says you know your way around weapons?”

Paul nodded.

“He had a trophy case at home with his competition medals,” Meg said proudly, possessive hand on his arm.

“Excellent. I’ve got a need for a warrior type on a basic quest scene. You should fit right in.”

Paul raised an eyebrow in question.

“Think treasure hunt. The Meat wants to go on an adventure. We’re his native guides etc. Usually you get newbies on gigs like this. This is the first or one of the first times they’ve done something like this and want the support system. You’re probably going to get dead, but it’ll likely be fairly straightforward and you’ll just respawn with credit in the bank. Sometimes they can be fun.”

“Do you broker jobs?” Paul asked.

“No, I’ve got a crew who does this sort of thing. Business is good enough for me to be able to add another, and Meg asked if I can help. Given the situation, I’d help even if Meg wasn’t a friend. Ian’s shit and Echoes need to stick together.”

Paul stuck out his hand to Tom and they shook, “I thank you. Yes, I can do grunt. Meg speaks highly of you, I see why.”

“She don’t shut up about you,” Tom laughed. “I expect I’m going to get the better end of this deal once you’ve got your feet under you. Hey Bella,” he said to Meg, “Contract calls for a female medic, you want the gig?”

“Is this a romance story?” she asked.

“It’s open. Not specified, not ruled out.”

“You think you can handle it if the story has me falling in love with the Meat? Or at least fucking him?” she asked Paul.

“I’ll have to,” he said simply. “How does this work? Do you, like, act?”

“Yeah, sorta,” she replied. “The Sim makes you respond in a natural way. It sort of takes over your feelings. You know what’s going on, but that part is sort of blocked off. You can fight it but you get booted if you do and don’t get paid. So if there’s a romance in the simulation, I’ll actually feel it during the simulation. It’ll be edited out after. I’ll remember doing it but I won’t experience those feelings – it won’t be like having broken up with a loved one.”

“Jesus,” Paul swore. “That’s twisted.”

“Yup,” she agreed.

“What’s the alternative?” he asked her.

“I’ve a few pending entertainment offers. None that I’m all that keen about.”

“Then sure, take the gig with us if you want to. At least we’ll get to be together.”

“OK, I’ll add you both to the team,” Tom said.

“So do I need directions or something?” Paul asked.

“No, The Sim will pop you where you need to be with what you need to have for gear and what you need to know in your head. I asked about weapon skills as it helps to actually know what you’re doing. The Sim can give you knowledge, but experience added to knowledge works out a lot better. You’ve got tonight to rest up and we’ll be on in the morning,” Tom added. “I’m sure that you two would like to spend some time alone and I’ve a few things to do. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Alexander was docking the yacht at the pier as Tom spoke. They walked him to the brow.

Tom gave Meg a strong hug, “I’m glad you’ve got your husband back, Bella. I’m happy for you.”

He shook hands firmly with Paul, “Nice meeting ya. Looking forward to it.”

Paul smiled and nodded to him, “Boots and Saddles, bright and early.”

They watched him pull away.

“Well fuck me if I don’t like the guy,” Paul chuckled.

“Told ya.”

“You did, now about the captains cabin…”