Eric stood outside of his 1950s Los Angeles apartment, eyes and lips wide open, both hands gripping the second story railing. With a pounding heart and heaving chest, he took in the city before him, a metropolis that proved light-years beyond anything he could've imagined.
The urban landscape whirred with an onslaught of sensory experience–sights, sounds, even smells. Cars rumbled by looking like bloated fish out of water. Trolleys traversed the streets while connected to cables, the cars stuffed with people travelling to who-knows-where. Men and women strolled along the sidewalks, the men in suits, the women in long colorful dresses. Children bounced here and there, laughing while clutching onto handheld objects.
Toys. From the look of it, they're playing with toys.
He kept glancing about, now focusing on the nostalgia flooding the landscape. Glass milk bottles, newspapers, bus stops, chipped paint, hideous tangles of electric power lines, bicycles that needing peddling for propulsion–everything outdated, everything moving, as if a 1950s photo suddenly sprang to life. And for his part, Eric couldn't believe that he stood in the middle of it.
He looked down at his analogue watch, the hands reporting just past noon. Good. Now he could take his time with the mission. And why not? Why not move about slowly, just like in his apartment, letting his senses absorb this strange and wonderful world?
Deciding on exactly that, he descended the stairs and started down the sidewalk, moving measuredly, appreciating the world's details. And given their abundance, how much time did it take to create something so exquisite?
He assumed that humans conjured up the idea, then automated systems carried out the constructive efforts, but that had to be the case. Too much existed for mere mortals to create all their own, even a dedicated army. Either way, the outcome sucked the virtual breath from his lungs, which mattered above all else.
As Eric scratched and sniffed everything in sight, his eyes darted back and forth. The passersby were observing him with cautious curiosity. Still, he couldn't resist. He even stepped into the street when a cargo truck rolled by, just to inhale its exhaust, the noxious fumes strangely delightful.
"New, I'm guessin'?" said a male voice.
Eric turned, and spotted a suited man a few feet away, probably upper 40s, and eyeballing him with a grin. "I'm sorry?"
"Are you new here? Is it your first time in this world?"
Eric stepped back onto the sidewalk. Perhaps his actions came across too gleefully, and he should tone them down to maintain anonymity. In the same vein, he shouldn't discuss himself. But after appraising the man, he seemed harmless enough to answer. "This is my first time in any world."
The man whistled. "So that's why you look like a kid on Christmas mornin'."
Eric smiled.
"This being your first time, you must be pretty young in real space."
"Young? No. I'm..." Eric considered lying, but again, the man couldn't be more benign. "I'm thirty-four. In real space, I'm thirty-four."
The man's bushy brow rose. "You're thirty-four, and this is your first go in any virtual world? My friend, you have some catchin' up to do."
"You know, you're probably more right about that than you realize." Eric didn't miss his statement's sentiment, and he would've considered this further but the man responded too rapidly.
"Well, what do you think so far?"
"This is unreal. I mean..."
"You mean, it's pretty amazin', huh? I suppose the novelty has mostly worn off for me, but I've been here for a while now. Still, every now and then, little things remind me of just how incredible this is. And since you're new, let me offer you a piece of advice. The best way to enjoy your time is to forget it's a simulator."
Eric curled his virtual lips. "How's that?"
"Well, try to imagine that this is Los Angeles during the 50s, and you're now part of it. In other words, while you're inside, leave your real self outside. Your habits, your history, your hopes for the future–leave it all out. Before long, you'll be convinced that this is the only true reality, and where you came from was just–I don't know–a dream, or somethin'. That's what makes these places so great. When you become such a part of them, they start to feel not like a place you're visiting, but all that ever was."
Eric nodded. "Yeah. I think I see your point."
"Great. And for starters, forget that all the people you come across are avatars."
"Well, that part's pretty easy."
The man leaned in. "In real space, I'm an elderly woman."
Eric took a half step back, the appraised the man and smiled.
"Pretty convincin'," the man said, "don't ya think?"
Eric chuckled his agreement.
"So, yeah. Forget that everyone's an avatar, or a computer program."
"Computer program?"
"Yup. There's computerized people here to help populate the world–give it more realism."
"How can you tell them apart?"
"Not by interacting with them. They're incredibly humanlike. But if you see someone doing somethin' boring–driving garbage trucks, painting walls, stuff like that–they're probably computer programs."
Eric shrugged. "That figures. I mean, who would enter just to wash dishes."
"True, but if the job's not too tough, it's probably a person. Most people here have jobs. That gives them somethin' to do. It also helps build their reputation, letting others know they exist."
Eric glanced to the side, eyes narrowed. He turned back. "I see. And by the way, do you happen to know where the public library is? I'm kind of a book lover, and I figured my first stop should be where all the books are."
"Of course. There's a few libraries around here. They're pretty popular in this era. The closest one is just a few blocks away." He provided directions.
"Great. Thanks. I'll head over there now. And thanks for the advice as well."
"No problem. Besides, I gotta get going too." He fussed with his suit's lapels. "I've got a hot date."
The man winked, then spun on his dress shoe and sauntered off. Eric smiled as the stranger strutted down the concrete sidewalk. If his hot date only knew.
Eric likewise turned, then started towards the library, and while walking, he reflected on first contact with another avatar. He shrugged and nodded. It went well. It also recalled what the man said.
Soon, it starts to feel not like a place you're visiting, but all that ever was.
Interestingly enough, the dictum already rang true. He did feel fully immersed, which surely aided the ease of interactions. Then he realized the extent of his immersion, and his feet froze.
What the hell happened to real space?
His home world all but ceased to exist, which could prove problematic, as he hoped to return.
With his virtual chest rising and falling, he focused on his real space body, then arched his back to feel for the seat. After a moment, he sensed it, but barely. Apparently, the longer one went without sensory experience from a given existence, the weaker it became in immediate recognition and memory.
He inhaled the city's air, certain a reversal would ensue after returning home, or at least hoping. Time would tell. Either way, he resumed his route, confident that his new plan would bare investigative fruit–tracking down Victor's target, and having her lead him straight to the source.
Eric ascended the library's steps and approached its entrance, finding the structure like all the rest–charmingly antiquated. He grasped the weathered metal handle, pulled open the wooden door, and stepped inside.
While making his way in, he took off his glasses and placed them in his jacket pocket. Right off the virtual bat, he noted a heavy scent of paper, but with this the first library he ever entered, couldn't discern the aroma's accuracy. Judging by the thousands of books, it must've been close to the mark. But then again, were the books even real? Curious, he decided to check.
As he walked along the sand-colored tile, his shoes clicked audibly, their taps echoing throughout the quiet expanse. He slowed to soften his footsteps, then entered an isle and stopped altogether. Uncertain about the section he stood in, but not caring, he pulled a book at random, then frowned. No wonder books went digital.
The hardcover weighed a virtual ton, but its worn blue cloth did give it an interesting texture. He opened its cover he read the title.
Modern Agriculture: A Guide to Farming Vehicles and Equipment.
He smiled. "Modern."
Flipping through the pages, he bypassed the text, and slowed after coming across black and white pictures of tractors, animal-driven plows, hand tools, and other displays of modernity. Smiling once more, he replaced the book, then picked one up on auto mechanics.
Like the previous tome, this digital brick contained scores of information, though the data's accuracy remained uncertain. If genuine, auto mechanics must've been daunting during this era, a difficulty absent in his home world. In the 2040s, autos never failed, and he only needed to repair an auto once. But that's because...
"Can I help you with anything?" said a female voice.
Eric turned and spotted a middle-aged woman, one wearing a white blouse and long blue dress. He smiled once more. For the duration of his stay, he would never come across a female not wearing a dress. "Hi there. I'm hoping you can help me. I'm looking for a man, Vane. He doesn't work here, but he mentioned knowing someone who does, someone he has a special relationship with. I was wondering if she were around."
The librarian returned his smile, then leaned in. "Actually, I do know Victor, though not personally, but through that special relationship. And the girl you're referring to is Alice."
Eric titled his head back. "Yes, yes. Alice. Victor told me her name, but unfortunately, I'm very bad when it comes to names."
"No need to worry. I'm the same way. And Alice is around. Do you want me to get her?"
"Please, if it's not too much trouble."
"None at all. I'll be right back."
The woman's dress fluttered as she spun, then as she strolled away, Eric's eyes narrowed. Everyone in this world came across pleasant, unusually pleasant. True, he had only conversed with two people, but it was more than this. Pleasantness seemed to permeate the environment, making it seem like everyone was infected. But did this accurately portray the 1950s, or simply reflect the world's avatars? Either way, he appreciated this, especially considering the attitudes of those in his home world.
There, most might be just as agreeable, he would never know. They were always too lost in tech to bother conversing with those around them. Bunch of damn buttoned-up...
He quickly quashed his condemnation, doing so after recalling where his real space body was, and what it was doing.
"Excuse me?" said a soft voice from behind.
Eric turned, and laid digital eyes on who must've been Alice. He concluded this given her presentation–young and attractive, with creamy skin, flowing dark brown hair, and large brown eyes. In essence, she perfectly embodied the doe-eyed sweethearts that Victor preferred to feast on.
"Hi," the virtual gem continued, smiling warmly. "I'm Alice. Were you looking for me?"
"Hi, I'm Eric. And yes, I was looking for you." He extended his hand.
Alice shook his outstretched palm, replying as she did. "It's nice to meet you, Eric. How can I help you?"
As Eric let go, he maintained his cheery disposition, but internally moaned. He just told her his real name. One mistake. Livable, but no more. "It's nice to meet you as well, Alice. I just spoke to your co-worker and said I was looking for Victor Vane. A few days ago, I talked to him about working at his factory, and I wanted to follow up on that. Unfortunately, I'm having trouble tracking him down. He mentioned that you two were friends, so I was hoping you could point me in the right direction."
Alice beamed more radiance, then her large eyes looked up and away. "Friends. Hm." She refocused. "I suppose you could say that."
Eric chuckled, her cheer infectious.
"I'd love to help you find him," she continued. "Do you know where the factory is? I'm sure you could catch him there."
"I do, and I went by this morning, but no luck. After that, I considered writing him a letter, but that would take too long. Now I'm hoping he won't mind if I stopped by his place, which is why I'm here, to see if you know where he stays. And don't worry, I won't tell him where I got the information."
Some of her cheer retreated. "I'm so sorry, but I actually don't know. I've never been to his place before. But I do know that he stays in an apartment complex. I also know the name, if you want it."
"Sure, if you would be so kind."
Her radiance returned. "It's the Paradise Apartments on Bishop Street. They're not far, but again, I couldn't tell you his room number. Maybe once you get there, the front office can direct you."
"Oh, that's great. Just knowing the apartment name and location is a tremendous help. Really, thank you."
"Sure thing. Was there anything else?"
Eric hesitated. Not only was Alice cheerful like the rest, she was more so. What's more, she was being extremely helpful without being the least bit suspicious. Then again, why would she suspect something? She wasn't on a secret mission, so no need to act guardedly. As far as the gem was concerned, everything's fine. "No, Alice, that's okay. I don't need anything else. I'll start for his apartment now. And again, thanks for everything. I really appreciate it."
"You're very welcome. I hope everything works out." She cast another luminous smile, then turned on her heel, her long cream-colored dress fluttering as she spun.
As this librarian walked off, Eric needed a moment to shake off the effects. Now back in the present, he replaced the auto mechanics book, and started towards the exit.
Strolling down the street once more, Eric decided to acquire directional assistance. He lived his life under GSP guidance, so now wasn't the time to learn navigation by way of compass, or stars, or however people got around in the 1950s. But how? Perhaps he could purchase something.
Spotting an empty bench just off the main street, he walked to it and sat. He then focused on his real space body, lifted his right arm, and tapped the side of his immersion sets, projecting a menu into view.
He mentally navigated through the menu options, and after a few clicks, reached an item purchase page. There he searched for maps, and not only found a few, but also learned they were accessible from inside the simulator. Only they required one catch–real space money.
Micro-transactions. So that's how Alternate Reality generated so much revenue.
He purchased a map, placed it in his Favorites category for quick access, then opened it and located Bishop Street. He found the Paradise Apartments soon after, which weren't far. Location marked, he closed the map and rose.
While walking, Eric eyed the concrete sidewalk and pedestrians before him, both blurring out of focus. He just spoke to Victor Vane's next murder victim.
True, he only conversed with Alice briefly, but the short conversation filled him with unease, especially with her no longer the librarian. The target had been humanized, shifting Victor's upcoming act into a new and awful light. Worse, the target in question couldn't be more cheerful and unassuming, which would only make her video evermore gut-wrenching.
The video.
Eric's eyes refocused, while his lips tightened. Yes, he only just met Alice, but he learned enough to know that she didn't deserve what happened in the video. Nobody did, really. However, a difference existed between her and the video's murder victim.
Alice was still alive. Not only that, Eric could prevent her murder from ever taking place.
The notion enticed him, especially with the warmth of her smile still lingering, but that would defeat the mission. He entered for Victor Vane, not Alice, and he needed to keep this in mind. Luckily, refocusing wasn't difficult, not when that murderer's apartments came into view.