The Unreal (860 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 18 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Anthony Locascio (View user info) at 2007-12-31 20:21:22 EST
"This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my entire life."
The two men turned their heads to regard the platinum-blond beauty. The younger, no more than twenty-five, wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and looking for all the world like the high school A/V geek later on in life, chuckled nervously. The older man turned to face her squarely, irritation creasing the lines of his face.
"There's nothing stupid about creation, Eileen. That's what this is. Creation. We couldn't be around when God made the earth, but we can be an integral part of the one man is making right here."
"It's not real, dammit! None of it is!" she barked in reply. The older gentleman turned to the younger with an apologetic look on his face that told a tale of many years of similar arguments in similarly unfamiliar company.
"Could you excuse me and my wife for just a moment, son?" he asked quietly. The kid nodded enthusiastically and walked some meters away, pretending to fiddle with his PDA.
He turned back to his wife, brushing one hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. He'd been waiting for it to start falling out as the years had made their inevitable march, but it had only just now begun to give up its color.
"Eileen, you promised me that you'd keep an open mind about this."
Eileen stood just on the cusp of the entry into middle-age. She hadn't yet broken down and gotten the eye job that she'd been considering with deadly earnestness for the past year, but it was obvious to even the most casual observer that her vanity wouldn't keep that wolf from her door forever. Her platinum blond hair fluttered in the strong wind that was blowing across the open grassland, and she pulled her coat around her shoulders to keep the wind out of the plunging neckline of her Vera Wang gown.
"You said real estate, Richard. REAL estate. The operative word being 'real'. This is....this is just stupid! Look at this!" She flung her hands out at the towering fortress in front of her. Rising from the ground in stark relief to the flat grassland, the dark granite structure jutted up into the air and seemed to cut at the sky. There was no sun, only a deep purplish hue that seemed to spread across the horizon and suffuse overhead into a more sinister red. Tattered pennants hung from the towers and flapped briskly in the breeze. A moat, deep and dark as pitch, encircled the structure in its entirety, cutting off access with the exception of an ancient-looking oak and iron drawbridge that stood down impassively, as though inviting them within. Occasionally something bubbled or splashed in the dark water, or the surface rippled over a smoothly swimming frame betraying something larger than a typical fish.
"It's real enough, wouldn't you say? Take a breath." She shrugged helplessly and breathed in deeply. "You smell that? That's pitch! There's a huge vat of pitch in there, boiling away! If someone were to storm the drawbridge, you pour the pitch out and cook the intruders, then drop a torch and..."
"Richard, what kind of intruders are going to invade your fake castle in your fake estate? Cardboard cutouts? Mannequins, maybe? Aliens?"
"That's what's so great about it! Come on, let me show you, just be quiet for five minutes and listen, then you can tell me what you think. You've got to see this. Fred!"
The young man looked up from his PDA attentively.
"Show my wife the invasion simulation,"
"Sure thing, Mister Chevalier," he chirped in reply. "What'll it be?"
Richard looked over to Eileen, who only glared back in smoky disapproval. "The...ahhh....goblin invasion. Platoon-size."
"Sure thing!" He started to punch keys on his PDA "I can access it from here. Get ready!"
"Honey, look!" Richard shouted, pointing. She took a moment to turn around. It was difficult to take her eyes away from the man that had been her husband for the past ten years. Something was happening to him, his tired face was changing in a way that she had never seen. His wrinkles seemed to be fading and there was a sparkling in his eyes that she recalled vaguely from somewhere many years ago but was unable to place.
Before she could make the turn, she could hear it - a sound something like gibbering and heavy breathing mixed together with meaningless hooting and hollering. She could smell it, a scent something like stale sweat and animals. But seeing it was far worse. Raging over the grassland towards them was a crowd of what she at first thought were some kind of ape or chimpanzee. When she saw the glint of light off of an axe and the grey-green tone of the leathery skin they wore, she realized she was mistaken. They came, loping across the landscape at a frightening pace, screaming, yellowed fangs biting into their own lips in the anticipation of the kill to come. Their blood pattered down their chests and dotted the yellow grass as they ran. Each was armed - a club, an axe, a short sword. Whatever the weapon, they waved it above their heads with murderous intent. It took a lifetime for Eileen to realize there were only three targets for them to do so.
Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as she realized how exposed they were out in the open. She turned to run in a panic, only to run smack into something hard and metal. She was suddenly surrounded by armored men. Each wore a gleaming metal cuirass and split-faced plumed helmet. They stood impassively and ignored her, and she realized by following their eyes that they were looking at Richard.
"Archers, HO!" Richard yelled at the top of his lungs. He looked like a different man now, his eyes wide with excitement. At the sound of his voice, the group of men formed a perfectly straight line in front of him. As they moved past Eileen, she realized she could smell their sweat and hear the creak of the leather thongs that held their armor. She could see the wind rustling the plumes in their helmets.
"PREEEEEEPAAAARE .....ARMS!" Richard shouted again. Each of the men, with perfect synchronicity unshouldered a huge yew bow. A quiver at each of their waists held dozens of long, barbed arrows, and without the slightest hesitation each nocked one in his bow. Eileen stood transfixed, unable to put her finger on what was strange about each of the armored archers until she realized that they were all perfectly identical. Each sported the exact same number of arrows, each had the identical skin tone of the next. There was not a freckle or a strand of hair that was not perfectly mirrored on all of his brethren. When they drew the arrow into their bows, it was not twenty distinct actions, but a single action mirrored perfectly nineteen times.
"READY!" Richard screamed. He had turned his back to the line, facing the oncoming horde with abandon. He threw his arms out wide. The men stood, solid, silent, resolute.
The horde drew within twenty meters.
"AIM!" Again, the perfect repetition, one bowstring drawn back by twenty hands.
Ten meters. The creatures spat and raged and did not slow. Richard swept his hands forward to point at them.
"FIRE!" he bellowed. Twenty bowstrings twanged in unison, sending the wickedly-barbed bodkin arrows into the midst of the flock. The air whistled with their flight, and Eileen noted in that instant that every arrow flew perfectly level with the next.
When they struck their targets, the result was anything but uniform. The ones at the fore were cut down by the swathe of arrows. There was the sickening sound of steel punching into flesh, tearing through leather armor, clanging off metal, splitting bone. Black blood flew into the wind, and the ones in front tripped up those behind them, bringing the pack of slavering beasts to a sudden and abrupt halt. Those who were uninjured or grazed shrugged off the bodies of their kin and struggled through the corpses to continue their advance.
"FIRE AT WILL!" Richard screamed again. On their own accord, the archers reloaded their bows, again in perfect unison. Another wall of arrows streaked out from them. This time, their aim seemed to be on the straggling individuals. One goblin, larger than the others that had been struck twice but not killed, received nearly all twenty arrows at one time. The impact sent a glut of black blood spiraling into the air. A third volley ripped through the last of the twitching when Richard raised one hand.
"Archers, hold," he commanded. They obediently lowered their bows. Richard turned to one near the center of the line.
"Bowman, your sword,"
With unerring precision, the archer shouldered his bow, drew a short sword sheathed at his opposite hip, flipped it neatly over in his hand, and presented it hilt-first to Richard. Richard accepted the weapon and strode purposely toward the heap of goblin bodies. One still struggled, its lower body incapacitated by seven hits to both of its legs. It snarled and clawed at the turf as he came closer, gnashing teeth over a purple tongue that slithered out from between its lips in a frenzy of foam. Richard said nothing, just lifted the sword in the air and swung it like he was on the links and driving a Titleist three hundred yards. The beast's head spiraled crazily into the air, the body twitching and shuddering before finally growing still. Eileen Chevalier watched in amazement as her husband flicked the blade behind him deftly in what looked like a practiced move, sending the black blood spotting onto the grass and leaving the blade clean. He drew a deep breath (how, she didn't know - the stink of the blood and bodies was making her gorge rise), and then trotted back to the group of archers.
"Archers, decommission," Richard said evenly.
"SIR!" they replied in unison. They turned their backs as one and walked towards the castle. Eileen stood gap-mouthed as she watched them turn transparent and fade into nothingness. Richard held the sword out in the air and released it. It hung suspended for several seconds before fading out itself. He turned to Eileen.
"Well? What do you think?"
She realized, in her incredulousness at the stupidity of it all, that she couldn't even muster the ire to scream. Instead, the best she could muster was a sarcastic "You want to pay two hundred million dollars for this?"
"We have a full staff of over a hundred virtual agents administering Real Estates, madam," Fred chirped. "You can contact one of them twenty-four hours a day if there are any problems. Included in our package are ten years of oversight, maintenance, and backups. We have a state-of-the-art backup center that will fully replicate your entire domain..."
"HIS domain," Eileen barked. "I haven't signed on for this,"
Fred cleared his throat nervously. "Ahem, yes. What I mean to say is, an EMP bomb could go off over Washington, and we would have a perfectly functioning estate back online within an hour. We also employ over five hundred behavioral algorithm designers to make your experience the most unique experience..."
"If it's so unique, how come the soldiers all look the same?" she snapped. She realized now, looking at the light dancing in Richard's eyes, that this was a dangerous idea. Richard Chevalier had done any and everything he had made up his mind about in his life. He failed initially on some occasions, but once he had an idea or vision in his head, he had never once given up until successful. The road to being a multi-billionaire had been somewhat bumpy, but reasonably straight for him. She realized if she didn't gut this idea immediately, show him that it was simply a child's plaything with fancy window dressing, he might spend years on this venture.
"Your husband came on board very early, madam. We're barely out of beta phase with this project. We have both class and behavioral patches coming out within the next few months. There will be over twenty classes of military servicemen available for hire, and over seventy peasant and merchant classes. Each will have his or her own personality, look, and familial history. No two will look the same, act the same, or behave the same. We'll also insert randomizer code to include slight variations. For example, the archers' arrows will all fly a little bit differently, depending on years of training, individual strength, and the like."
"And this is all free of charge, no doubt?" Eileen asked, arching an eyebrow. Richard clucked his tongue in embarrassment at the comment. Cost, he had always said, was second to utility.
Fred cleared his throat again. "Obviously, more troops and more peasants means more upkeep, more clock cycles on our main supercomputing bank, and more storage space, so we do charge a nominal fee..."
"How nominal?"
"Depending on the skills of the subject in question. Our pricing structures are not finalized yet, but we anticipate roughly five thousand for a farming peasant to half a million for a master swordsmith."
"Half a million dollars for a bit of computer code!"
"He can produce enchantment-grade weapons for all of the troops..."
"He doesn't produce anything! He's not real! He's a fantasy! A construct! A paper cutout! You can a piece of cardboard and put a photo of Marilyn Monroe on it! You can take it to dinner, take it dancing, take it to the opera! You can even take it home and have sex with it! At the end of the day, you've still only fucked a piece of cardboard!"
"Eileen, enough," Richard said evenly. She turned to him, ready to continue her tirade, when she saw the level seriousness in his eyes. "I've made up my mind about this. This is hardly a fantasy, even if you pretend to think that it is. I aim to show you that before this is all done. Fred, you've received my deposit?"
"Yes, sir, your funds have been transferred to Real Estate's account. You'll be staying with the classic Norman-style then?"
"We'll talk about it later, but most probably. I'll phone you an order for my garrison sometime next week."
"Richard," Eileen pleaded, "I really wish you..."
"Later." Richard's tone left no room for debate. "Fred, we're ready for export."
"Thank you for choosing Real Estates, Mister Chevalier. Look forward to hearing from you."
The world went dark, and the sensation of wind and open air was replaced by the stifling warmth of the electro-sensory wraps that the two had wound around their entire bodies. No longer stimulated by them, they now felt like so much itch Velcro on their bare skin. Eileen Chevalier, furious beyond belief at the thought of her husband spending hours on end in this semi-comatose state, could only get together one harshly worded sentence.
"Get me out of this fucking shit. NOW."
User Reviews
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2008-01-04 22:47:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
REMINDS ME OF CAPN KIRK
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2008-01-04 20:08:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yo. You're never online, what, you get a life or something? How's Stacey doing?
I'm not doing much considering I'm on break...trying to get an internship...not much else. What about yourself?
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-01-03 15:23:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
very nice.
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-01-02 19:52:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2008-01-02 16:58:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
excelent
Submitted by triangle_man (user info) at 2008-01-02 14:14:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice
I'd go there
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-01-02 08:59:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This should have way more hits and reviews.
Submitted by sadie73 (user info) at 2008-01-01 17:42:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sadie73 (user info) at 2008-01-01 15:08:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I hope you have a sequel in mind.
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Oh yeah, there are several installments of this story.
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I know what I'd like to see, but I'll keep my trap shut.
It's your train, you rob it any way you please. . .
Submitted by Entaran (user info) at 2008-01-01 17:29:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
She should divorce the fucker and take half. We'll see who ends up with more money.
Submitted by domenad (user info) at 2008-01-01 16:56:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
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Submitted by sadie73 (user info) at 2008-01-01 15:08:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I hope you have a sequel in mind.
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Oh yeah, there are several installments of this story.
Submitted by TheBrad (user info) at 2008-01-01 16:35:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wang is another word for penis.
Submitted by sadie73 (user info) at 2008-01-01 15:08:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I hope you have a sequel in mind.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2008-01-01 06:29:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hny
Submitted by rorrim (user info) at 2007-12-31 22:35:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-12-31 21:48:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Happy New Year to you and the family.
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2007-12-31 22:06:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
great stuff.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-12-31 21:48:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Happy New Year to you and the family.
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2007-12-31 20:49:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by HellRazer (user info) at 2007-12-31 20:39:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great story!
I wanna smack that Eileen bitch though. Who the fuck DOESN'T want a holodeck?
Dumb bitches. That's who.