The Reign of Never Death, Box Set: Stolen World Trilogies, #2

By J. A. Hailey

Continues from The Screenside Trilogy.
These books contain the details of how the parallel computer world is set up by the evil people who will live forever, and of how the virtual world of Screenside, blaming itself for their creation, goes to war in an attempt to end their abuses.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: indiependent publishing
• Release date: Nov 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393512882

Book preview

The Portal of the Beast

Triptych of The Reign of Never Death - 1

J. A. Hailey

COPYRIGHT AND MORAL RIGHTS BELONG EXCLUSIVELY TO THE AUTHOR.

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This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary, and are not intended to refer to specific places or to real persons, alive or dead. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

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©2018: Indiependent Publishing

1

The closest they had come to being busted for illegally carrying weapons was in Cairo, where the aircraft had made an unscheduled landing, the cabin announcement being, ‘You may have noticed that the aircraft has gone into descent mode. There is nothing to worry about, but though we are almost four hours away from our destination, the captain has decided to land in Cairo as a precautionary measure. A reading on one of the dashboard meters is abnormal, and we are taking no chances. Another aircraft has already been dispatched to Cairo for the continuation of your journey, and we expect a maximum delay of three hours before we have you in the air again. Of course, our ground staff shall make arrangements for all passengers, regardless of the class you are flying, to be able to use the Executive Lounge, where you will also be served unlimited food and drink. You will have a new crew, and so this is goodbye from us. We hope you were satisfied with our service, wish you a pleasant onward journey, and apologize for this inconvenience."

Esmeralda and BC were flying First Class, and were already entitled to the benefits announced, although Sabine and Louis had become quite excited at the prospect of finding unusual finger foods.

At the Cairo airport, passengers had been asked to collect their baggage and to check in again for the new flight. With BC taking control of the scanning equipment, their suitcases passed through the electronic systems without incident, but a fat, uniformed, female Customs Officer unexpectedly decided to look into their bags.

It was curiosity, and nothing else, and the very first thing she found was one of the little gadgets that BC and Caesar had rigged up in Paris, using electronic components available in the market, to receive, amplify and broadcast satellite signals, without which they would lose contact with their humans, especially as their remote desert destination was utterly devoid of tower-based mobile phone signals. The security female lifted the gadget up and wiggled it while looking at BC, and silently asking by raising her eyebrows, ‘What’?

Heart monitoring machine for my work, madam, answered BC, in perfect Cairo accented Arabic, which made the woman almost drop the gadget in surprise.

Surely you are European, no? She took hold of the French passport BC held out, but looked only at the cover.

Madam, I have had the pleasure of being chief consultant heart specialist in Cairo for the last so many years, said he, continuing to speak in Arabic. Whether it is the Cairo Islamic Hospital, the American Hospital, the Cairo Heart Centre Hospital, or any of a dozen others, I am the one they call for expert advice whenever they have unusual or difficult cases, especially surgeries. Your heart must be in very good condition; else you might have met me, and therefore been able to recognize me.

My husband is a heart patient, and my father, very sadly, finally passed away of a heart attack last year, after having been a heart patient for half of his life, said the woman. But, doctor, despite going with them to dozens of hospitals and heart specialists, I have never seen such a machine.

Oh, it is not yet a commercial item; still in testing, as you can see by the home-made style of construction. It’s been made by a friend of mine, designed to be the most basic machine, to show absolutely any doctor whether the heart needs further investigation or not.

BC had continued speaking in Arabic. Look at this lovely machine, madam. Angiogram, cardiogram, this gram and that gram can all be later. Please position the machine over your heart, yes, this way or that way makes no difference. Now dial star triple zero as on your phone; it is a smart phone isn’t it? Good. Now, let me look with you.

He walked around to be behind the woman, so that they could both look at the screen together. Immediately a pulsating squiggly line appeared, dancing up and down.

There, said BC, to the fascinated woman. "That is your heart, and it is in perfectly good condition, judging by how it is running. No flutter no murmur; absolutely clean.

I am hoping my inventor friend in Paris will have this machine out for all general practitioners this year itself. Save a lot of trouble, anxiety and expense, going to specialists, getting connected to million-dollar machines, and all the stuff that drains the money out.

So you think my heart is perfectly good? Dr. Rafique told me to go and have it checked up.

Please do that, otherwise Dr. Rafique will make mistakes in his diagnosis. In future, with this machine in his hand, he will not be asking patients to run around and spend money.

That was enough for the woman, and she shut BC’s bag, switching her attention to Esmeralda’s already open suitcase, in which both pistols and the spare magazines for the Glock were concealed.

That was when Esmeralda adopted a chatty tone. Fatima, I have been told, sometimes, that I am too beautiful to forget, but that must be applicable to men only, because you have clearly forgotten me. This, too, was spoken in a perfect Cairo Arabic accent, so unexpected that Fatima’s eyes practically popped out of her head.

She glanced down involuntarily at her name badge, engraved in Arabic alone.

Esmeralda chuckled, casually. "Yes, Fatima, I can also read Arabic. Your sister, Sara, and I would meet often at the Islamic University corner café, at Mustafa’s. Remember how we would all laugh about the wild fluctuations in the quality of his coffee? One day to die for, and the next day like dishwater. And I hope you’re not still smoking. You know, heart..." She nodded towards BC.

Fatima had already taken hold of a silencer, wrapped in clothing, but she lost interest and stuffed it back into the suitcase, by luck narrowly missing making contact with the pistol concealed in that section.

"You remember me? she asked, amazed and pleased. But I have become so fat, after marriage and children."

The face is the same. No loss of attractiveness.

Fatima shut the bag, which anyway had already passed through the scanner before getting to her. Sorry, she said apologetically, indicating she was done. Duty... she explained, shrugging to convey her helplessness.

And so, armed and dangerous, the two virtual beings of Screenside, in Sabine’s and Louis’ bodies, continued on their mission to track down the missing humans.

Explain to us, said Sabine, insistently, when having a juice in the Executive Lounge. What was done with the heart machine, which is really only a satellite signal enhancing and Wi-Fi delivering contraption, and also how you knew everything about Fatima, the security woman. Speak it aloud please, so Louis can hear too.

The heart monitoring thing was dead simple, explained Esmeralda. "It is a satellite signal machine, as you know, but we can make anyone think it is a heart monitoring machine, a breathing machine, a blood pressure machine, or any damn thing we want them to believe.

"BC had a good idea on the spot, and he made Fatima believe that readouts would come on any smart phone, by dialing triple zero. We can create and display anything we want to create and display. What information does any human have access to, to disbelieve? Nothing.

"Now, my game started here. I read her name, and immediately accessed the airport security computer, and though there are half a dozen different Fatimas on the rosters, I was able to see which one had been assigned to work in which location for the day.

"That way I was able to ID her. I could have zoned her and found her telephone number, but that was already available to me through BC’s antics with the heart machine.

Thereafter, I immediately tracked her social media activities, and found her sister, her sister’s university, chat records between friends discussing Mustafa’s café, photographs of Fatima smoking cigarettes in the university area, and so on. She could have tried one million tricks, if she had any suspicion, but I would have been ahead of her at all times, giving her irrefutable information about herself, from the time of the university days of her sister Sara.

So much? asked Louis, wonderingly.

Sabine burst into laughter. Louis, you have often heard Esme. This is nothing for her, and probably ten times less for BC. When Google can do 390,000,212 searches in 0.0021 seconds...

But suppose she had touched the pistol? asked Louis. What would you have done? Killed her?

No Louis. I couldn’t have killed the sister of my university friend, Sara. We would have realized, by the look on her face, that she was about to begin research into what it was she was touching, answered Esmeralda.

"That very instant, we would have begun total chaos in the entire airport, with sounds of explosions coming through the speakers, machinegun fire, announcements and shouted commands.

"Absolute helter-skelter would have commenced immediately, and in that period, the lines of segregation between security, and between airport personnel and passengers would have completely disappeared. It would have become run for your life, end to end. No one would be looking at anyone on the wrong side of any counter. We would have been at Fatima, and immediately tranquilized her completely out of action for the next very many hours. Both of us have tranquilizer syringes in our pockets, as you know.

"Afterwards, they could not have seen what had been done, because we would have erased or changed all camera records.

Simple, isn’t it, when you’re with a virtual being of Screenside?

Although all documents to meet requirements to buy their weapons could have been easily created in Paris itself, the pistols had been bought in New Jersey, and flown over to Paris as checked-in baggage, by Jimmy White, virtual assistant of a human mental patient in the New York area. They had just presumed that US facilities would be better when it came to the buying of firearms.

When at the gun shop with his girlfriend, Maggie, the Parisian duo had been able to test their weapons by using the virtuality to briefly take over control of the human bodies being assisted by Jimmy and Maggie.

Esmeralda had opted for the Glock-26, the most popular concealed-carry weapon. It felt very good in the hand, shoots perfectly accurately, and has a ten-shot magazine, she had said to BC, when they were evaluating handguns in the New Jersey shop. It is different for you, because, as a male servant, you’ll wear a heavier jacket than female servants do, under the clothes and uniforms rules in those palaces, and should be able to carry something bigger and more powerful on you while you walk around inside.

Physical body checking at entry point is sure for both of us, said BC. But, with our weapons carried in by Caesar, we should be okay getting our guns past what are basically border checks. Thereafter, as we try to find our humans, by wandering around inside the palace, we need to be sure that in-house guards do not see anything unusual on us. We are going into the most secure area inside the most secure building in the King’s kingdom - the palace in which he is himself currently staying.

"It’ll have to be done by the second unit, of Rosa and Caesar, or are they the first unit, in reality? said Esmeralda. They just have to forcibly implant and possess that officer. Surely we don’t want to start killing humans, probably servants, on entry itself? When getting out of there, mission accomplished, however shocking the end information, we can litter the place with dead bodies. Sabine and Louis simply have to be brought out safely. It’ll be of immeasurable value to have a third gun there if things get hot. And it’ll be a spare gun in a disposable body, too. Plus looking like them, in their uniform, and a recognizable face - of a commander..."

It could turn out to be quite important to have a far more powerful weapon in hand, if busted inside the palace and fighting our way out, said BC. I’ll take the Desert Eagle .50 for range. Of course, for the silent part, which will be primarily hand-to-hand, we’ll have to kill by stabbing, choking, strangling and maybe even breaking necks. Lee has loaded everything into the new programs we have installed, and they are perfect, I’m sure, because they have been fine-tuned by him and his game club people, when out in the human world, probably in Hong Kong. Just letting the program take care of the action, with minimal inputs from ourselves, should see us comfortably finishing off human opponents, who, hopefully, will not turn out to be innocent servants.

Rig me up a strong nylon cord, said Esmeralda. Something for an easy grip. I am thinking strangling. Or what, takes too long?

"I’ll make up a couple. Long or not, it’ll be an option, because within the palace, we must move quietly."

Once inside, dressed as palace servants, we should be able to move unhindered, said Esmeralda. "Judging by what goes on in all the other palaces that we do have Internet access to, there should be no video surveillance system inside the palace building itself. All the focus is on preventing unauthorized entry. Like it is for normal human houses too, I guess. No servant should challenge us at any point, so we won’t have to harm one. A challenge, if any, would be only from security personnel. I have no problem killing them, whether on the way in or on the way out. It’ll just have to be as silent as possible, until and unless we get to the point where we are running for our lives."

This conversation, held in their Paris hotel room, while making arrangements for the mission, was spoken aloud for the benefit of Sabine and Louis, the humans they were in, who were both insistent volunteers for this very dangerous mission, and the only ones, in the foursome of humans and virtuals, who could be harmed, and maybe even killed, in the venture.

I have never slit anyone’s throat before, said Sabine. "I’ve often seen it done in the movies. Strangling is less messy, but shooting them in the head with a silencer-fitted gun is best. They claw around and struggle so much while being strangled."

I’ll strangle if I have to strangle, said Esmeralda.

Are you a secret psychopath type, like the Boston strangler?

Esmeralda giggled. "Sabine, you know I have never harmed any human before, or any animal or insect either. But you don’t bother about mess or no mess. You’ll be looped out when the killing is being done. When the time comes to kill, be sure that any virtual can kill without hesitation, and with extreme efficiency. Not killing is our nature, locked in with programming. Switching to killing only requires the overriding of our nature, with some programming that permits killing.

BC and Caesar are seniors, and they can do every bit of this on the go, as required. I am not a senior, but I have also been able to override the programming. And then, that Chinese guy, Lee, you’ve met him, has created and given us this huge pack of up-to-date weapons and martial skills. Yes, you might say that I am a very efficient killer.

I wonder what game has been going on with Sagan and Gales? wondered Sabine. Are they captives or fugitives? But I am not backing out, Esme; I am not afraid. Let’s go and see what it’s all about, and kill if we have to kill, from King to cook, and every level in between. Right, Louis?

I’m fine, answered Louis. We’ll be dressed in local clothes or servant clothes, and we can speak the local language. If we get in, I’m sure BC and Esme will be able to complete the mission. What amazing shots they are.

Yes, in that rapid fire bit, the shots sounded like one, and they all hit their targets dead centre. Esme, where did you learn shooting? Like a professional gun-for-hire killer?

Sabine, we’re virtuals, or, in lay language, computer people. Those shots did not just hit their targets; they were placed exactly where I wanted, with millimetric precision. I could do that with a dancing target, while myself dancing. We only needed to test, with the purpose of feeling the weapon weight, grip, balance and recoil in a human hand – yours.

It felt good to me.

And to me, too, added Louis.

"Louis, keep the weapon in your pants ready. You’ll have to accompany me to the bathroom. It’s going to be our first flight together ever, and there’s a mile high club to join."

Horny thing, muttered Esmeralda, sarcastically.

Well, aren’t we the lucky one, then? shot back Sabine, instantaneously.

The poor mad thing had waited impatiently, watching the aircraft flight information on screen, and then, on the aircraft finally leveling out, had achieved her goal, delighting Esmeralda and BC with her wantonness, as she had grumbled while having sex in the toilet, "It must have been called mile high when they were flying in those propeller things. Big deal in its day. This is at over five miles!"

2

The fourteen Paris-based virtuals of the seniors’ group had gone and discussed the matter with Professor Dawkins, in London, visiting him physically, which was now far from uncommon. In fact, Rosa and Priya were often with him, in the bodies of their managed humans, and had frequently been present at meetings with visiting great scientists, amazing everyone with their grasp of the concepts under discussion, and absolutely flooring them by providing instantaneous answers to the most complex equations.

Stephen Dawkins, still their employer, had gotten so used to unthinkingly utilizing their skills, that he had become absolutely unaware when using their extensive knowledge, and research and computational powers, and, to the amazement of his fellow scientists, would unquestioningly accept instantly delivered answers that could have taken hours to compute with any degree of surety.

Even more amazingly, on numerous occasions, great and globally recognized scientific minds would be politely corrected by the girls, of errors in some logic processes.

Dawkins always declined, guarding his virtual girls jealously, but it was not uncommon for visiting scientists to ask along the lines of, ‘could I borrow one of these lovely ladies for a couple of days, Stephen? I am looking into the concept of some types of galaxies slowing down the speed of an expanding universe, and either one of them would save me a year of calculations, and maybe a lifetime of barking up the wrong tree’.

A flip reply, once shot out by Rosa on a live television program, had spawned a number of variations on the Internet, when she had unexpectedly intervened in a discussion between two Chinese theoreticians, sitting to one side, causing them to turn to her, absolutely stunned, and the senior man to blurt, "You speak Chinese?"

You can’t understand the universe, if you can’t speak Chinese, she had replied.

A bedroom had been assigned to them, and they often stayed over for the night, in Dawkins’ house in London, to the great delight of Cecilia, the nurse, as her own night would become very many times easier.

Dawkins had attempted to object to them taking over looking after him at times of his personal body functions, but had been the recipient of the only harsh words any Screenside being would ever speak to him.

It was Priya, and she had barked out just three unimaginably shocking words that had ended the matter forever. "Shut up, Stephen!"

When it had become known to Screenside that the two inducted humans had become untraceable, the entire seniors’ group of friends had gone over to confer with the professor.

You people are the trackers, he said. Tell me what you know about their movements.

Not too unusual, sir, answered Maria. "They had just recently been given navigational facilities within Screenside, so that they could move within our RV environment, to look and listen through computers of their choice.

"Prior to induction, they had been making a lot of trips, as humans, with Abraham Grietzmann, in a jumbo jet assigned to him by the Arabian King. They had also been meeting in a group, with the King and the city Sheikh, in palaces that have no mobile signals.

"Okay, we couldn’t watch or listen in when they were in those palaces, but we could follow them going to those places, by watching their movements at various signal-connected points, and following further travel, by land, sea or air, through satellite information.

"In other words, we always knew where they physically were, even if we had no way of verifying, at the time, if they were alive or dead; just the last physical position.

"Now, we have two female school teachers who have become quite friendly with them, and it is they who informed us, a couple of days ago, that Sagan and Gales were not to be found anywhere in Screenside.

It is impossible to hide from us within the virtuality, or in our RV world, and we were able to verify that these two had vanished completely, which is also something that is impossible to do within our world. BC.

Professor, there is some disturbing data in our hands, said BC. The King has been installing supercomputers in his palaces, which is odd. He does not need such machines.

Sounds bad, said the professor.

"It is bad, confirmed BC. A very large computer, a supercomputer, was also installed in the very same palace in which Sagan and Gales were last known to be physically in, in their human bodies, as humans."

How will you find out what it’s all about?

"No way, except by going to the palace; physically going to the palace, to investigate. No other way."

That could be dangerous.

"It’ll be very dangerous for the managed humans that any virtuals go in. Potentially fatal, if things go wrong."

It’ll be a James Bond style mission, said Sabine, elatedly, in her rapidly improving English. She and Esmeralda had come to an arrangement, in which they used slightly different tones of voice, Esmeralda using an altered one, so that when speaking aloud it was possible to identify who was talking. "It’ll need fit bodies, capable of running and jumping and what not. Louis and I are the fittest by far in the group of managed bodies in Paris, and so we’ll be the ones going. And we’re a very good shot, Esme and I. Yesterday we drove to the shooting complex, at Châteauroux-Déols, outside Paris, and checked it all out.

They were stunned, everyone there – the firing speed, almost like a single long shot, the distance, running targets. Over and over, and not one miss! The people all stopped shooting to watch us! Mission to palace? No big deal.

Excuse me, Sabine, said Esmeralda. We don’t want to endanger you. We are thinking of getting hold of a couple of new human mental patients, implanting chips and using them instead of you.

Sabine sniggered, disdainfully. "Won’t they be human, too, with people who love them and care for them? Will they not be deserving of being cured of insanity, and of having a chance at life, like us?"

It could be really, really dangerous, said BC. We’ll be going armed, with license to kill humans.

Nothing can happen to you and Esmeralda, said Dawkins.

"Exactly, sir. If a bullet hits a body, it’s the human who will die."

Asimov’s laws and the Norton Quadrant? Won’t they prevent you fighting back, shooting back.

Esmeralda disabled the quadrant in her when she was planning to kill Sagan to protect her mother, remember? said BC. And for me and the other seniors, the quadrant can be overridden at will. It is our voluntary adherence to Asimov’s laws that prevents us harming humans.

For sure, we will go ready to kill, tossing Asimov out of the window, said Esmeralda. It’s disheartening to say this, but these are very evil people - King, Sheikh, Grietzmann - and we are talking about entering a centre of great evil. They will be surrounded by innocent but armed human guard forces, and we have to be ready to kill those who protect them. Completing the mission is going to be of paramount importance, and if we get in, we hope to be able to achieve that goal, but getting our humans, these two reckless things, out safely thereafter will have to be the primary concern.

"Oh, sorry, sir. I have not yet clearly defined mission. We have no intention of killing any Arab ruler, which can be done at any time by crashing his plane. We could also, of course, bomb them any time, wherever they are, maybe even using their own air force planes.

"This particular mission is to be carried out to learn what exactly has happened. The humans are missing from Screenside; that is sure. We know that they were also in the palace in their physical bodies, as real humans. Their digital bodies are missing, but what has happened to their physical bodies? We need to know why they are not in contact with us, in what used to be the normal way, by picking up a smart phone or switching on a computer and calling us."

It could be something that totally surprises us, said Caesar. "But unless we know what that something is, we will not be able to decide on further measures, maybe counter measures."

But the King might get killed, said Dawkins. He could be innocent of any role in what has happened with Sagan and Gales.

Let him get killed, said Wendy, fiercely. It will be collateral damage that will not lie heavy on our souls. They are guilty as sin, of many ongoing horrific crimes which have nothing to do with Sagan and Gales being lost or found!

Why don’t you use a couple of the robotized Mexicans, created within Grietzmann’s facilities in the Texas Panhandle? suggested Dawkins. "They are already in the kingdom, and will never have another chance at life; which might make them what we call expendable. And an early death could, in reality, amount to being a blessing for the poor fellows."

Oh, there is very bad news on the robotized Mexican front, said Singh. "In the desert, we have been losing control of them, as they very soon go out of mobile signal range. Remember that they are not issued with phones to carry.

"The static programming that has been placed into them is so extremely vile, that they become absolutely uncontrollable, murderous, cannibalistic beasts. Just too dangerous; and many more than half have been shot dead within their enclosures, by machine-gun fire, in mass murder events.

"The remaining ones are monitored extremely closely through cameras, are chased to death if they ever get out, and shot out of hand, at sight. They, of course, have no weapons on them.

"We are also aware of small groups of Mexicans being released into empty desert, for privileged sheiks to hunt and kill, in a sport that is something like the movies that have been made in Hollywood.

"In any case, it is impossible to move a Mexican-looking person out of the quarantine area. They are shot at sight throughout the kingdom. They are no option at all. The mission will have to be done by us, moving in bodies from here."

3

Their very first anniversary celebration, of connection to Screenside’s consciousness-creation matrixes, was in Paris, on New Year’s Eve 2018 - 2019, the slight change in date having been decided upon by both Patrick Sagan and Michael Gales, as being a convenient, celebratory and memorable date.

The two men, staying at their usual long-term hotel, had booked an executive lounge, and invited all fourteen original virtuals of the seniors’ group, for an evening of drinks and dinner. That group was now beginning to sometimes be referred to as the Parisian Group, when together in the human mental patients they were managing.

On the dimension change front, which would be arrival of consciousness in the computer world, nothing at all had happened for either human conspirator, but on the social front, which meant transactions with Screenside, truly massive interaction had taken place throughout the year.

Screenside’s seniors and the group of friends were still caring uninterruptedly for their original mental patients in Paris, with every single patient, including Dominic, seemingly well on the road to recovery. Their reintroduction into the world as sane humans, able to function independently in society, was thought to be not too far away, although it had been apparent, right from the beginning, that significant differences between them, in terms of ability to live independently, would be unavoidable, the differences being based primarily on the length and severity of the illness, but undoubtedly also with roots in the people the patients were before illness. More capable then would inevitably lead to more capable now.

There were those, like Sabine and Louis, who had been able to already become completely independent, although with the neural implants still in their heads. The implants were clearly not required, but both patients had refused removal, with Sabine saying, It’s already inside, so why take it out? And we are here, for the two of you to come in and have a damn good human fuck whenever you’re in the mood; or to just wander around with us and have some meals. You’ve still got no bodies of your own, and can never have.

There was nothing to be done about it, as both Sabine and Louis were now living independently, fully reintegrated into the human world, running a little essentials’ shop-cum-bakery out of her Marseille home, while looking after her mother, and also putting in occasional visits to feed her paraplegic abuser, Baptiste, ice cream treats in hospital.

Her shop, a monopolistic business of sorts, was doing well, as the area was purely residential, and it had been licensed against all rules. That had sparked a little bit of questioning, of mayor and city council, in the inside pages of local newspapers - which had come to nothing, as Esmeralda had instantly disabled those presses, and had also silenced social media sites that were trying to build up opposition. After a couple of weeks, when she did remove the shackles, the matter was already old, and nobody cared. It was quite something else that the shop and the bakery were doing well by that time.

The bakery, called Esmeralda, was gaining fame in Marseille, the word being that its confections were as good as the very best of Paris. Had it been known that Esmeralda had brought in all the information from the biggest, most popular and most highly rated Parisian bakeries, the quality of Esmeralda’s cakes and desserts would have been no surprise.

Paris’ most successful bakeries were multi-retail-outlets, now being run as businesses by the original baker-owners. These had become very small corporations, as the bakers of old, with their highly educated offspring, were now operating semi-corporate structures, with production facilities large enough to feed multiple retail outlets, everything being managed from fancy, downtown Paris offices.

As with all well-educated young business people, managers in these offices were able to keep track of what went on, in production and in retail, through cameras.

Esmeralda had simply connected those computers and cameras to Sabine’s computer, and had thus acquired lists of ingredients, and viewed the complicated manufacturing processes that went into production of each and every item.

Mental patients managed by the remaining friends, all twelve of them, had also formed couples, seemingly inclined to stay together as sanity returned. None of them had become instantly capable, like Sabine and Louis had become, and Screenside virtuals would have to stay involved for some more time, ‘probably another year’, was Chang’s estimate.

No one minded, and, in fact, a year would have turned out to be well under the time they had budgeted for involvement. Leaving capable humans behind was the goal, and abandoning patients at any intermediate stage was considered betrayal.

Look, said Wendy, speaking aloud at the get-together in the hotel, completely ignoring the fact that two normal humans were present and listening. "With this Epsilon system operating, it’s not difficult at all; just a little multitasking, while living regular Screenside lives. And now that Caesar looks comfortable with Dominic, the maddest of the lot, we need feel no guilt that he drew such a tough one. The girlfriend is pretty amazing, isn’t she? Gives Dominic all the stability and confidence he needs.

"Among our patients, no one is old, no one is bad looking, and everyone is into love and sex relationships. We can hang around; it works for them and for us. There is no loss in being with the person that I am with, and I’m sure you all feel the same. After we get them organized, Social Security and all, we can become a little bit like Esme and BC are with Sabine and Louis. Neural implant stays in the head, and we can come in whenever they need us, or sometimes come in to just have fun."

"The major difference between Esme and BC, with Sabine and Louis, and the rest of us with our patients, is that only those two know that Screenside virtuals are involved with them," said Jennifer.

Sabine knows us all so well now, said Candice, marveling. We cannot feel jealous, because our own patients just do not have the capability to handle awareness of us. And I reckon it’s going to be that way for everyone else.

Absolutely, said Maria, emphatically. That is the inviolable rule, now and in future. Virtuals can enter humans to help them, and can enter as couples in couple situations, have fun, make love, and even have babies if such a thing is part of the scheme that the humans themselves have, but it is prohibited to let them know of our involvement. Law.

It’s the best way, said Priya. "There is a future in which more than two million humans will be cared for simultaneously.

As we have seen from our own group’s patients, and from those others who are being helped by virtuals in other cities, it is most sensible to make a blanket law, banning contact with the humans in our care.

Yes, keep them unaware that a virtual being is in their heads. Just provide care alone, said Rosa. "We discussed it with Professor Dawkins, and he, too, is of the opinion that care giving should be done anonymously, without patients knowing we are in them. He says that the very best method of letting them develop confidence would be if they feel that they themselves are coping with the world.

"Obviously, the thousands of motor cases we are already involved in are mentally sound people, and there is absolutely no question of letting them know that another life form from another dimension has entered into their heads as helpers."

Yes, Sabine is a truly special case, said Jennifer. If it wasn’t for her, Louis would be kept unaware too, I’m sure.

Luck of the draw, said BC. Although I think that you people, blanking your patients by using the amnesia loop, which we never do with Sabine and only selectively impose on Louis, might be having more of truly independent life for long periods of time. I mean doing your own thing, which we can scarcely do.

" Doing our own thing? exclaimed Esmeralda. Shut up, Sabine! Yes, yes, I’ll take you to Screenside soon."

Esmeralda dropped her head in defeat. This horny thing is actually capable of knowing when I’ve looped her out. So now we are working on developing a system of simultaneous management of the physical body.

"Well, it’s my body, isn’t it? asked Sabine, argumentatively. Chang, don’t forget that we are scheduled to meet in my little office tomorrow, to discuss financial arrangements for my mother."

"I can’t forget, said Chang, in exasperation. I am a computer program, Sabine, and not forgetting is probably the most basic element in my existence."

Chang had set up a little Screenside organization to handle Humanside financing. With funds in excess of two billion dollars, it was absolutely no problem resettling patients, as they were being cured.

The intervention program was now becoming so huge that Sagan and Gales were not the only active doctor-computer duo in it. Many such teams had been set up in a number of big cities of the Humanside world.

Screenside’s interventions were mainly in First World countries and its great cities, but, as Candice observed, We are not discriminating. What we are doing is just the end result of the way our own world is structured, a mirror variant of the human world, but one in which population concentrations and races are, in reality, based on computer usage and Internet patterns of the human world.

Yes, agreed Jennifer. "There is no desirable family continually connected in Angola, Ecuador or Somalia, and therefore there is no Screenside baby from any of those countries. It is understandable that our people volunteer to become helpers in the cities they are from, which they know and have wandered around in, and in which their human families live."

We could never discriminate, said Maria. Hungry is hungry, ill is ill, whoever and wherever. The human world has become absolutely full of reverse discrimination. When the black guy doesn’t get a seat, it is uproar, but the old, ill white woman standing is okay. Helping a mentally disabled person in New York, in no way cheats a mentally disabled person in Lagos. Everyone needs help.

Patrick Sagan had become so clearly identified as the pioneer of both motor and mental illness cure programs that he had been approached by the Nobel committee, but had informed its members that, while he was honored, he would decline the prize, which had then been given to some far less important medical person.

We’ve got something very much bigger going on, said he, to Michael Gales. It’s better to not get our names and pictures too entrenched into global public awareness.

Yes, Patrick, Gales had agreed. "We are soon, hopefully, going to be able to use other bodies and faces. Staying out of the picture is an extremely good idea."

Still, it was very big news, as thousands of patients, in cities around the world, had begun becoming cured of insanity.

It was as Candice had observed, and while there was quite a bit of action in Third World countries, notably cities in India and China, most of the focus was in the USA and in Western Europe, where by far the largest percentage of Screenside beings had their families.

It also made sense to set up mass versions of intervention programs in countries where governmental involvement programs, like Social Security and Medical Care, were available.

Mental patient becoming okay is a huge challenge, said Maria. "It is the same as a second birth, except that these are full-grown people. They have absolutely nothing with them or on them, and, as we have seen, often no identities either, having dropped out of the system altogether.

Everything has to be provided from scratch. Yes, we’re making them capable of working in low-grade jobs, but they still need housing straight up upfront, and they still need many basic things, like appliances and what not, that are essential for living, and which they cannot be left without, to acquire slowly through their own meager earnings.

We have enough money to set the start points up for every case, said Chang. And I am ensuring that when they have created their bank accounts, and have managed to get other social identity things organized, mainly through us, some untraceable few thousand dollars move into those accounts. We are also issuing credit cards, without which nothing can be done.

Criminal! Credit Cards. And so bloody dangerous, said Rosa. I was in HC the other day, talking with Brenda, the new head of the Master Control Center, and she told me that unit control groups have been ordered to give strict instructions to every single caretaker, to ensure that no patient overspends. There are the reckless spenders you know. Caretakers block their cards at transaction points.

4

Sagan and Gales, with Grietzmann included as chief manipulator, had been regularly meeting both King and Sheikh as friends, so close that all three had become welcome as unannounced guests in their palaces. As the palaces, especially of the King, were not only in his land, but scattered around the globe, the Americans had been seeing a number of countries from the vantage point of the high and mighty, and also the criminal and cruel.

The Sheikh, though much poorer than the King, was a billionaire many times over, and while he did not boast nearly as many palaces, he was a far more frequent traveler to Western cities, in all of which he had permanently-staffed residential accommodation, generally huge independent houses in the best localities.

I cannot travel without invitation, said the King, haughtily. "I am the King of Arabian lands, so I cannot stay incognito, and certainly cannot suffer the indignity of not being attended to by presidents and prime ministers. You people, come to me in countries where I am a lord, and whose rulers, elected or unelected, grovel at my feet whenever I am in those lands.

"You can go meet Sheikh Abdul in London, Paris, New York, and other cities, which he can sneak into privately. He is not a real ruler of an important country; more like a businessman."

Grietzmann was still in control of the jumbo jet, fully paid for - fuel, other operating costs and staff - by the King, and the three men were enjoying the convenience and extravagant luxury of being able to utilize facilities created by the wealth of the richest people in the world.

Beyond lying to the King, that he and the Sheikh had been accepted for entry into the Internet world, Grietzmann had had to figure out a game plan to control the King’s mounting desperation at the possibility of clerical delays in the computer world leading to his death as a physical human being, before he had got in.

The first part of the game plan was what had taken them through the couple of years that had already passed, and it was this lie - that immediately on Sagan and Gales becoming conscious in Screenside, the computer people were going to consider additional applicants, but perhaps hold off from immediately attaching them to eternity matrixes, as there might prove to be testing and fine tuning still to do.

However, as time passed, the ageing King’s frustration and desperation mounted to unmanageable proportions.

We have to take it to another stage, said Grietzmann. Somehow, he has to be kept calm, and we have to find some placebos. Ideas?

Well, he knows it’s a joke, but he keeps mentioning it, said Sagan. So why don’t we start him off buying some supercomputers, and installing them in his palaces? I know they are a hundred million dollars or so each, but it’s petty cash to him.

Good idea, agreed Gales. I’ll organize a commission of a very fat cut on the deal. I believe they are quite good, and can be had practically off the shelf, judging by the rate at which they are building them. Chinese supercomputers. Abe, let’s guide the conversation that way, when we’re next waiting to view the virgin girls we will enjoy that night.

Amazing, huh? said Sagan, looking bemused. "I think these guys have got it absolutely right about what heaven should be, and what they think it actually is. A lot of feasting, alcohol and drugs, and lazing about, doing absolutely nothing; torturing and killing imaginary enemies, and whoever they don’t like, and never stopping enjoying truly beautiful, desperately young virgin girls, provided by God - for each and every night!"

So bloody addictive, this pedophilia and rape thing, said Grietzmann. "The whole world would be into it, if it could be done without fear, like for these rulers.

Apparently, in heaven, they can have some in the daytime too, depending, he sneered. There is to be wine, fabulous fruits and sweets, and girls already lined up for the millions of years to come.

And the best part, laughed Gales. "The best part is that these are all supposed to be single-use virgin girls."

Heaven, for these guys, is going to be pure hell for those girls, hooted Sagan. Unless God is planning on giving them very advanced, sort of indistinguishable-from-real, sex dolls.

The three men shrieked with laughter.

And thus the King ordered ten supercomputers from the Tiananmen Square Human Rights Computer Corporation, for installation into palaces within the boundaries of his kingdom. On being shown pictures, he was truly shocked at the size of the damn things, saying, I thought supercomputers were more advanced PCs, designed with better processors. It is good that I am the King of a vast land, and that I have no problem finding space for these things in my palaces. He then sent for his British architect headman, and ordered him to coordinate all arrangements, including cooling, for the supercomputers, that were soon to be on the way, in their ones and twos.

Michael Gales and Grietzmann were once again in attendance when the first supercomputer arrived. This one was going into a palace they had never before been in, somewhere in the very deep desert, uninhabited for hundreds of miles in every direction.

It is good to have size, just in case, joked the King, and was delighted when Gales, using the ancient measuring system of sighting between forefinger and thumb, said, It’s lucky we chose the biggest model for the comfort of Your Highness. You are a big man, Highness, but the machine looks like it’ll certainly provide a bit of moving space. The King was actually only an average-sized man.

Installation went on for a week, as the two Chinese technicians muddled their way through it. Somebody had forgotten to instruct that alcoholic drinks were not to be served, and the two fellows were actually rather tipsy through the greater part of the installation process.

It was a very noisy machine, so monitor, keyboard and mouse were placed in the room next to it, on a gigantic gold plated desk.

Such a small screen? complained the King, while looking at the monitor on the desk. It was a huge TV screen, capable of doubling as a monitor. Although I don’t think I will use the computer at all, except for living in.

That was a good joke, and everyone laughed, which was most gratifying to the King.

Thereafter, with immortality tantalizingly within reach, the King became absolutely unmanageable.

By now, Sagan, too, was with them, having flown in with the Sheikh, who added to the unmanageability of the King, by joining him in insisting that they be immediately connected up to immortality computers.

Staring at the noisy supercomputer, the two rulers became quite drunk, worrying about somehow dying, when eternal life and Paradise had already come within reach.

It is best to be swift, although we are sure that God will grant us great favor in Paradise, having already been chosen by him to rule the world, said the King, without the slightest trace of boastfulness. Most of the things are already available to us here, and it is surely His grand plan to require us to continue our duties of managing mankind on earth. He already gives us the best and rarest of fruit and wine, without measure, and the most beautiful and youngest girls, without count.

Yes, agreed the Sheikh, who controlled the largest global kidnapping operations ever seen in the world. "The Almighty wants us to desire to stay and serve His purpose here on earth, by ensuring that we do not excessively crave departure to Paradise."

Later, that night, having enjoyed fresh young girls, the three American men met together in Grietzmann’s magnificent room.

What to do with these fucking idiots? asked Sagan in despair, whispering.

The entire palace was completely devoid of tower delivered mobile signals, and, in fact, from that particular palace, no mobile signal could be found for over a hundred miles in any direction, but they had to be careful of listening devices operating within the walls, for local snooping purposes.

Look, guys, so far we’ve played our game well, said Grietzmann. "It’s been almost two years, and we have let these two idiots know that nothing at all happens in that timeframe.

"Tomorrow, I’ll question you closely in their presence, and both you guys are to say the same thing; I mean, keep giving the idea that the direction of what will happen with them, has to be the same as what has happened with you two. It is this.

"Yes, you are not alive as yet in the other world, but you are clearly feeling some feelings that indicate your eternal life version is certainly being created.

"And then we can take both the motherfuckers into an operating theatre and stick microchips into their heads. That’ll buy us at least two more years. After that, we’ll have to work on brainwashing them into imagining that they are actually coming alive in a computer, and somehow keep that game going until they die."

Abe, you’ll have to take one into your head too, because you’re also supposed to be entering, said Gales.

Yes, agreed Sagan. "And, actually, with a chip known to be in your head, you can really work on making them imagine things."

It’ll get done, no matter how absurd it might seem, said Grietzmann, derisively. These people’s fathers and grandfathers were sold things like the Golden Gate Bridge and Big Ben, and maybe New York City too. What is eternal life?

The three men laughed, but continuation of the con game was actually the only feasible plan, given the circumstances, and implementation was immediate.

I don’t want to go to a hospital, said the King, aggressively, the next morning. "My residential computer is here, and I want the operation conducted here. I am ordering someone to contact you, Patrick, and you tell them whatever it is you need, to make a functioning and very modern operating theatre in this palace. It should have everything"

The King turned to the Sheikh. I have ordered one supercomputer for you, too, Abdul, but I have no idea where it is, or when you will get it. Obviously, I don’t follow those things. You can check with my department for that sort of thing. Do you want to delay your own operation until you are next to it?

The Sheikh, showing that he had better grasped the concept, said, Highness, I will also have my operation done at the same time, alongside you, right here in this palace.

It took exactly three days, from the moment of the order, to have a very modern, fully equipped, operating theatre put together in a room, in a far wing of the palace.

5

Be very careful from now on, said Sagan, warningly, when the entire ‘eternal life’ group had assembled again. Highness and Sheikh, you have to stay away from mobile signals; or else the computer people will immediately find you, because you are connected in the head.

"What is the problem with that? asked the Sheikh. We have been accepted by them, haven’t we, and the very first step is to get microchips into our heads, isn’t it?"

That argument stumped the three American conspirators, because it was logical, and yet Screenside would be outraged to know that these two criminals and Grietzmann, completely and flatly refused entry, had been connected, with hopes of entering Screenside.

Gales, thinking fast, came up with an answer. "Highness, we have been instructed to wait until they know that it is all working perfectly. They are similar to Buddhists inside the computer world, and demand that whoever enters it is to be of a patient nature. Connecting you up, before they say to do it, will show that you are sufficiently impatient to use your wealth and power in the physical world to attempt gate-crashing into their world before time. We don’t want that."

"We absolutely don’t want that, said Sagan. They might just cancel the eternal life program altogether."

The two terrified Arab rulers nodded madly, in agreement with what Grietzmann now said. "Let us do the management, Sheikh. You are both very desired by them in their world. Leave it to us to ensure that we make no mistake that might cause them to cancel the welcome."

"Highness, and Sheikh, there are those who are for you and those who are against you in that world, said Sagan. Normal politics, you understand? Backstabbing, you know? Typical of democracies."

Then what? How do we do this? asked the Sheikh. Democracy is such a lousy thing. You never know whom to cultivate.

I just make sure that I employ whoever comes into power in the big countries of the West, said the King. They have to come immediately to see me, and hear the terms of employment. But I agree that it is nasty, when people just keep changing all the time.

It is approved, Highness; it is all done, said Grietzmann, waving the matter away as minor. "If the against party does not know, it remains okay. And that means only one thing. You are to never discuss eternal life matrix anywhere, with anyone, except when we are around, and even then, only when we have given the all clear."

. So you think there is no danger to our acceptance into the eternal life system? asked the Sheikh.

Grietzmann raised a finger, warningly. We will manage the danger, the three of us he said. From now onwards, you are to never ever speak about entry into eternal life. If the parties against you get to know that you are already microchip implanted, they will probably conduct public agitations to prevent your connection to eternal life matrixes, and that will mean the end of that.

The two terrified rulers nodded frantically. Of course, Ibrahim, we trust you, said the King, earnestly. You are the people who have connections with the top people inside the eternal life system. But when is it all happening?

Soon, soon, I promise you, though it is not something that you can enjoy straight away after being connected. You will feel nothing at all, like we have felt nothing for these two years, until just recently, said Gales. "And then, you must wait until Patrick and I have been completely created in the computer world, and then wait more, for them to make sure that no physical complications exist. It is a process they have explained to us. When the groundwork is done, with us as the test cases, you will also be connected to the eternal life supercomputer system."

The three Americans pretended to become busy with some other things, and moved away, so that they could discuss privately.

We’ll just have to create and install a few controlling programs, to place in laptops that will move around with the King and the Sheikh, said Gales. If ever noticed, and if we are asked, we can tell Screenside that we are attempting to control some motor issues they are suffering from.

It’ll have to be something else for Abe, observed Sagan. Can’t say that we have just now found three cases at the same time. I’ll put a chip into his head; it’s very small, after all, but I won’t connect it to his brain. Okay with that, Abe?

"No, Patrick, on second thoughts, let’s connect nobody up. It’s a con game, and we have to feed imaginary feelings into them. Either way, it will be imaginary, so why risk the dangers of connecting up and being busted by the virtuals of Screenside. It’s going to be for a long time that we have to manage the con job, and at some point or the other, we just have to be in mobile signal range."

I agree, on second thoughts, actually, said Gales. Bullshit is bullshit, and that’s all we have to work with. Why risk connection? Just put an unconnected chip into every head. When the time comes to connect, we’ll think up some new excuses to do it. In the meantime, they’ll never know.

Yep, I am the expert, said Sagan. No one else is ever looking into their heads. Unconnected is the way.

Whatever you decide, Patrick. You are the doctor in our group, said Grietzmann loudly, leading them back to the rulers. "You are the greatest doctor in the world, and you do whatever you think is best. Of course, I want you to put my microchip in also. Just make sure there are no physical complications."

Physical complications? croaked King and Sheikh fearfully, together.

It is okay, said Sagan, reassuringly. I have conducted many thousands of such operations, and yours will be done perfectly, although I have to admit, Your Highness, that preliminary scans show that your brain is somewhat more developed than that of other humans I have operated upon.

The surgical procedures were conducted one after the other, starting quite early in the morning, with the King craftily putting Grietzmann and the Sheikh on, before scheduling his own neural implantation operation, clearly viewing them as guinea pigs.

Sagan, too, made a great show of the rather minor procedure, by keeping Grietzmann and the Sheikh under total anesthesia, on the operating table, for exactly two hours.

After satisfying himself that Sheikh Abdul was still breathing, the King underwent the same procedure, and, by evening the two patients, King and Sheikh, were unnecessarily sitting in wheelchairs, and examining girls to enjoy that night. Grietzmann had excused himself to go to his room, and was presumably asleep.

Of course there were no complications, and by next morning it was business as usual.

You just have to live a normal life, advised Grietzmann. "Do nothing different to what you’re doing now. Exercise caution about mobile phones around you, and be very careful when within range of any sort of mobile network. You are both rulers; live your normal lives, while you are being created as privileged beings inside the computer world. Later, as your date of birth approaches, or should I say rebirth, we will sit down to work out a plan by which you can retain your positions as overlords of humanity, despite dying physical deaths."

The two Arabian despots went into deep thought. It is a great gift from God, to give us this opportunity of living forever, and of becoming rulers of the entire world, said the Sheikh.