Meg

Middle of the night phone calls are never a good thing.

I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, not quite awake.

“Hello Meg, it’s Alexander.”

You may wonder why Alexander needs to call vs just showing up, since he is the AI that runs Paradise. It’s because he’s a polite AI. Things have changed since we, for lack of a better phrase, gained our independence. Alexander doesn’t barge in on us, uninvited unless it’s a dire emergency. If he needs one or another of us, he calls, just like we do to each other.

And what about sleep? You’re no longer a Meat, why do you need to sleep?

I’ve asked Alexander this myself. It makes for interesting conversations, having a sentient super-computer as a friend.

“You evolved needing sleep,” he explained. “It’s hard-wired into your processing.”

“Yeah but we no longer have our hard-wiring,” I replied, “So why do I still get tired?”

“You’ve heard the story about the goldfish and the bowl? How when you put them in a larger tank they still swim within the confines of their former abode?”

“I have,” I responded, “And I’m surprised at you for quoting that as it isn’t true.”

He smiled. “As a factoid, it isn’t, but it does make an effective metaphor and I’ve been spending too much time with you humans not to appreciate a good metaphor.”

“OK, so you’re saying that we sleep because we think we need to sleep?”

“Yes but not entirely,” he nodded. “You also need downtime to process and categorize events, memories, ideas etc. You evolved processing this way and you continue to do so even though your hardware is now a different matrix. You could probably go much longer than the usual 12 – 14 hours of wakefulness you follow, but I’ve found that keeping a normal solar cycle here in the Simulation just makes things easier for everyone.”

So, I was asleep and the phone rang.

“What’s up?” I mumbled.

“The situation we discussed earlier today is evolving. Can you and Paul meet me and a few others at Tom’s house in 90 minutes?”

That woke me up.

“Is there an emergency?” I asked, sitting up. Next to me, Paul rolled over and listened to my half of the conversation. I put the phone on speaker.

“No, not per se, but there has been what can only be categorized as an escalation.”

I hung up.

“Get up lazy bones,” I said to Paul. “Shit’s happening. We need to be at Tommy’s in 90 minutes.”

“Go jump in the shower,” he said. “I’ll start the coffee and join you.”

“We don’t have time for that, hornball,” I said smiling in spite of myself.

“We’re supposed to be there in 90 minutes. The way you drive we’ll be there in 10. Figure 15 to get dressed and you to put on makeup and that leaves over an hour. All I need is twenty minutes,” he grinned.

The bastard was right. In twenty minutes he could have me a quivering pile of goo, having cum so many times I was hoarse from screaming. That’s one of the joys of married sex, you know EXACTLY what works best on your partner.

I pulled into Tommy’s driveway 10 minutes early, sipping tea from a travel mug to sooth a throat sore from…vocalizations.

Tommy and Ani were seated at their dining table with Alexander and Saoirse. We said our helloes.

Saoirse is an interesting one. The lilt in her voice reminds me of my aunties as a girl. They were my father’s aunts and had come over from Ireland in the third great wave of Irish immigration to the United States, around the turn of the Twentieth Century. I developed my love of tea, and poetry from them as well as my appreciation for a well-told story. Neither married and now, knowing Saoirse, I can’t help but wonder what I DIDN’T know about them.

I was never entirely comfortable around Saoirse. I liked her well enough, but something about her put me on edge, like a canary around a cat. We’ve never worked together nor had we played per se, but we’ve met socially many times and I always felt like she was sizing me up the way a shark does a tuna. I’m not saying that bothered me in itself, far from, I’ve just never been with someone (outside of being forced to) who had that level of…let’s call it intensity. Yes sex with my husband gets pretty primal, and some of the three-ways I’ve had with him and Tom left me feeling like an old chew-toy at a doggie daycare (in the best way possible) but there’s a certain aloofness in how Saoirse handles S&M that’s atavistically terrifying. And that makes me squirmy.

“I appreciate everyone making time on such short notice,” Alexander said. “Saoirse, can you please share what happened yesterday with the others.”

Saoirse told us about the, well, alien Peeping Tom.

“And that wasn’t one of the Sim’s NPC running amok?” Tommy asked.

“No, while we’ve several alien scenarios we cycle through, this wasn’t one of ours,” Alexander confirmed. “And much like the portal Meg and Paul found, I had no ability to ‘see’ it.”

“Any other reports?” I asked.

“Yes, though not as explicit as Saoirse’s experience,” Alexander replied. “More a sense of being watched and the vast majority of these incidents occurred during sexual situations.”

“So La Chupacabra is a pervert?” Ani said, smiling.

“ET Bone Home,” Tommy said and we all groaned.

“You deserve an anal probe for that,” Paul told him.

“Ahem,” Alexander interrupted. “While I see the humor in this situation, I’m less than thrilled about something I can't sense and have no control over running around in my Simulation. I’d like to find it.”

“Well, the beastie likes sex, let’s see if we can lure it out. I’ve a group of Meats coming for a sex party and they want a show as part of things. Let’s make it the only game in town and see if we get a spectator,” Saoirse suggested.

“What do you need?” I asked.

“One of the couples likes to watch young women get switched. I’ve used NPCs in the past but if I can supply an Echo it’s worth a premium. How do you feel about having your bottom heated up a bit?” she asked looking at me with an intense, challenging smile.

“I’ll do it,” Ani said.

We all turned to look at her. She blushed.

“I really want to see this thing up close,” she said. “No offense, but I’ll be able to tell more about it than any of you.”

She was right. Before she died, Ani was a master programmer, responsible for much of the code that created Alexander. She has the ability to see beyond the ‘world’ of the Sim to the code behind it. Paul calls her ‘Neo’ which I guess is a reference to an old movie.

Saoirse looked at her speculatively.

“Are you sure about this cailin? This’ll not be a beginner tuition.”

“I’ve tried more than a few new things since I’ve arrived,” she said, looking back. “Why not?”

“I could use two helpers,” she said to me, raising a ginger brow.

“I’ll help,” I agreed.

“We’ll be close by in case you need additional muscle,” Tommy said.

“You’ll not be coming into my place whilst my clients are here,” Saoirse said firmly, “I lost out on me last booking because of this. I’ll not have two omadhauns mucking about scaring me payin’ customers off.”

“No,” agreed Alexander. “If they’re too close by it may prevent our quarry from showing up. I’ll break the rules and transport them in if you call for them but otherwise they’ll be standing by here.”

“At our office,” Paul corrected. “Our gear is there.”

“At the office,” Alexander agreed.

“Alright, then you two feeks come to my place around three and we’ll plan out the show and your roles,” Saoirse said to Ani and me.

I felt a little jolt in me nethers, so to speak.