In THE SPIRAL: Connected Stories & Fragments from the Virtual Future

VOICE/FRAGMENT: 'Symbol Exchange / Compatibility Test' [5XP]

He was jacked-in, interface secured tightly and his cyber-suit wired up in his Trainer. The mini-map gave away her location as somewhere in the dense club of thronging avatars before him.

It had been days since he had first spoken to her (in-world), but their swift meeting had taken him by surprise. Her words had found him from somewhere:

So I see you're a fellow of the green shires?

The sound was dark and snake-like. It was likely she had been in the form of a goth or a vampire and she spoke of his preference - and progression - in the Ariella realms. At least, it was the most likely reference. He thought he had seen her, but it was only a fleeting glimpse. She had given him her friendship, without introduction, but had then rezzed out for some phantom reason; her distant appearance had dissolved into hazy particles, lifting like dust motes that caught on fire and vanished into the smoky light. It always reminded him of 'Star Trek' beaming in the old movies.

Since then, her name – Muldoon, of course something exotic - had been ghosted out on his Friends List and he had been waiting to find her...

Until now. When he had logged in, her status was showing online, and also... nearby. Scanning the club with his detection HUD, her avatar soon became highlighted. Sure enough, she was a vampire. She was dancing, and her avatar was gyrating in pre-animated routines that she could influence through her suit directly or through her controls. The effect was extremely cool.

At last... her visibility meant that he could now throw her an exclusive voice message. He was sure that it was her: the avatar had the same hair; the ends were illuminated cherry red and emitted tiny showers of sparks. He engaged voice and spoke into his mic:

Yes, I am from the shires... Why did you leave before?... I have symbols...

At once, her avatar came out of its gyration and her head looked up, seeing him immediately. The girl's eyes glinted with flecks of fire, even at this distance, assuming she was a girl. For a moment his stomach turned, even in the safety of the virtual. But then, is anything ever really safe? Maybe outside of courtship. Courtship though, he had learned, was often more about personal destruction.

She vaporised and appeared beside him. They viewed each other. Her eyes were dark, her face was round. She seemed innocent, pretty, young, but also sunken slightly; fallen. It was an alluring impression though.

You show me yours and I'll show you mine...

An enhanced voice, full of money slipping off the scales of a burning snake – in noise-cancelled sound - against his ears. But he nodded his avatar's head, by nodding his own. He pulled up the sleeve of the same arm, and showed her his symbols, carved black into his virtual arm and glowing with a soft red light round the marks. Obviously they only showed in the virtual; he had never had a real tattoo in his life, and never would.

He spoke aloud once more, in his own voice, not embellished:

The first symbol is the Creative
The second is Firecube... Design & animation: Master level acquired
The environment is countryside so I know of peace and timelessness
The god is Apollo, so I look to a darkness
The fifth is for study and control
The sixth shows I feel more than I think

If you are the one for me, I offer you my time...



He watched her for a response. The delay was a long one. He had only a little hope, but he was ready now; he had to know. These moments, he thought... These are the ones...

She stood back, and her avatar head lifted carefully, taking in his appearance. The backdrop behind her was still a throng of imaginative avatars, twisting and interweaving their forms and appendages. The effect was demonic like her smile, and the fangs were there too.

Our symbols match, seeker demiurge...

Her eyes glistened again with the animated effect. He felt suddenly weightless and submissive, uncertain of what now to do. Just as it had before, once, when suddenly everything depended on someone else; on the distraction from oneself by a stranger's thoughts and actions. Demiurge was a little-known academy-term for a builder; a creator of worlds. Would she ask about this mark? It would mean she wasn't the one. She spoke again, this time her avatar's lips moving. It was her actual voice this time, but still very feminine.

You're convincing. But it's still possible you've been trying to tamper; you could be a Rogue. You could even have replicated those symbols, knowing of mine. Let me test you first, on your knowledge of Game Lore: tell me, what does it mean to win?

She flicked her hair back and the red particles lifted around her. What she spoke of was true. There had been recent breaches of symbol security.

He replied at once: Don't worry. 'To win is to bear the weight of winning. To lose is not to lose, but to have tried', he spoke back. The Lore were a set of values that more and more people - not just the Innervators - were adopting.

The alluring look returned to her face. Alright then Innervator. I will tell you that you are old enough. She hesitated, thinking, and he let her continue. But before I respect you too soon, tell me, what exactly was it that you imagined?... What was your research area?

He triggered a slow smile. This very test I imagined. Symbols. People. Compatibility. It was a major advance in communication. But I've never had a proper match for myself until you. Tell me how you found me before... You knew I was from the shires. It is possible that you are deceiving me... Perhaps we are deceiving one another...

Her laugh was a vampire laugh, in keeping with her whole virtual style and appearance. The detail had improved so much, people could look and move identical to their real-life person, but still he wondered how she looked offline.

She was quiet a moment, just looking, and then the response came, back in the gothic.

Well, you're still a victim either way though, of your own imagination...but I'll try not to make you too much of one, Woodbury. A smile again. I'm yours! I've been lonely and you do seem my type. Hell, you must be my type, according to you. Shall we dance?

It came up on his HUD; an offer to accept a dance routine for his avatar. No sooner than he'd squeezed it than he felt his suit contract and they re-appeared on the dance floor, moving in steady flow and gyration. The grunge went deep through the sensors and into his soul. The music was his favourite kind. Their night was beginning... and their time...

How long will it last this time? he thought... How long?...He wasn't tricking nature, but then again, by removing the risk that was involved in meeting the perfect match... was it not a kind of trickery still? He did have faith in the symbol system. He had been honest with her earlier.

But this new girl, a vibrant part of nature, had he still tricked her...?

Get thee to a nunnery... A line from some old play.

He started to enjoy dancing with her. But he felt himself smiling not only at her, but with himself too. He hoped it would never turn and the joke be on him, or on them both. Nothing was certain, but they had lessened the uncertainty; moved closer to the mystery of... love... the pair-bond. Only the timing and the practice remained, and this would remain as both the fun and the fear.

[FRAGMENT COMPLETED! +5 XP : BACKGROUND ITEM - see more under XP + Ranking. ]