1DEN10T V.1: 1DEN10T, #1

By Lee Ramsay

1DEN10T

 

Though World War Three is over, the resource scarcity which started the conflict continues to plague humanity.  Reorganized into hyperdense urban centers where living space is at a premium and opportunity is limited, people virtualize as avatars in cyberspace to escape limitations on who and what they can become.

Despite the optimistic possibilities virtual worlds offer, the separation between reality and cyberspace is thinner than most imagine.  As people carry real world concepts, biases, and desires into constructed environments, they discover their idealized escapism is far more real than they anticipated.

 

The first in a series of novels set in the virtual world of Identity, 1DEN10T V.1 follows five individuals as they explore and define the complexities of their psyches, sexualities, and personhood.  Though separate, they discover their lives are more intertwined than they thought possible – and that humanity is being judged by the sentient artificial intelligences created for their entertainment.

 

- Fans of Phillp K. Dick's or Robert Heinlein's more social science fiction works will enjoy this book.

- Fans of shows like Black Mirror will find familiar themes in this this novel.

- If you like movies like Tron, Tron: Legacy, The Matrix, or Ready Player One, you'll find recognizable elements in 1DEN10T.

- Less Grimdark or Post-Apocalyptic Cyberpunk, and more realistic Post-Cyberpunk Sci-Fi.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Ramsay Publishing
• Release date: Mar 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393310006

Lee Ramsay

A Southern California native, Lee is a graduate of California State University, Fullerton and holds a Masters in Geography and an Associates in Computer Information Systems. A US Army veteran and former education/economic development grant director, he has lived all across the United States and delved into local culture, history, and cuisine. A lifelong fan of Science Fiction and Fantasy, Lee keeps himself busy developing stories within both genres that he would love to read but hasn't really found.

Book preview

27 November 2123, 00:48 GMT

Shoulders hunched beneath her long wool coat, Elizabeth shivered as the breeze wormed through layers of clothing to chill her skin.  Puddles filled depressions in the sidewalk and gutter, reflecting the lights in the surrounding skyscrapers.  Traffic had dwindled with the hour’s lateness; the occasional passing car splashed through shallow pools in the uneven road surface.  Though no longer falling, the rain added a dampness to the chill.  The breath clouding before her face hung for several seconds before being shredded and dispersed.

She loved this time of year, which stirred a romantic streak she usually hid.  Despite the time, people wandered the streets as they moved from one party or entertainment to another.  Couples – or those pretending to be for a few hours – were more inclined to snuggle as they walked, and often paused in recessed doorways or beneath brilliant autumnal trees to cuddle and kiss.  Storefront windows showcased the newest products, enticing browsers to become buyers as the holidays approached. 

Elizabeth regretted how busy she had grown over the past few years.  There had been a time where she might have attended any of the countless parties hosted at this time of year or visited one of the numerous bars for a warm alcoholic drink.  She might have flirted and danced, flaunting her slender figure and rich brown hair to torment the men; she might even have indulged herself, seeking a beau for the evening or, perhaps, even longer.  When the weather turned chill she hungered for slow, romantic dances, cuddles in front of her residence’s fireplace, and sensual lovemaking between her bed’s satin sheets.

Time, however, seldom allowed her to partake in those pursuits.  Online or off, there were now too many demands on her attention for such indulgences, save for the rare and frantic moment where opportunity presented itself.

Elizabeth sighed as she saw a couple pause for a kiss and turned a corner toward her building.  Soon, she would be able to relax for a few minutes in her too-often neglected residence before sleep issued its siren call.  For a moment, she resented the lovers; they might set fire to their sheets, but her own were going to be cold and empty.

Twenty yards from the door to her building, a peculiar sensation shivered down her spine.  Familiar with her intuition, she paused with a scuff of boots on the sidewalk.  She squinted ahead with her brow knit, then behind her.  Nothing appeared out of the ordinary – certainly nothing which might tickle her senses with unease.  Shrugging, Elizabeth pushed her hands deeper in her coat pockets and took a step toward her building’s door.

Concrete cracked as a shirtless, bootless body slammed to the ground.  The man’s head burst like a rotten melon.  Blood and brain matter flew, splattering the side of the building.  Gore speckled her coat’s black wool.  She gasped as beads of ichor dribbled down her cheeks.

The body twitched, framed by cracks spreading from the impact crater.  Blood seeped from a puncture below his sternum, staining the pallor of his skin before pooling beneath him.  Though the skull had broken open and spilled its contents, the face remained recognizable; his expression was an odd mixture of amusement, pain, and wonder.

For a moment, Elizabeth stared in mind-numbed shock.  This part of the city was reserved for residential living, shopping, and general socializing by regional policy.  Violence of any sort was prohibited in this region, as were suicides.  If people sought those experiences, they could be indulged elsewhere. 

The corpse stopped twitching after a few moments.  His flesh turned gray, then broke down in a cloud of pixelated motes which vanished as the breeze swirled them away.  Blood coating the concrete disappeared, though it remained on her skin and clothing.  In moments, the cracks and the divot left by impact resealed themselves, leaving no evidence that someone had just died.

Elizabeth shook her shock away and craned her head back.  The building rose more than a hundred floors, its peak disappearing into the low-hanging clouds.  Balconies fronting each of the residences remained empty; no one had emerged to peer downward, either from witnessing the plummeting body or hearing the impact.

A small green icon flashed in the corner of her eye.  Jaw tightening, she accessed the Heads-Up Display and its integrated photo feature.  A translucent holographic overlay formed in her vision; in one pane, the three-dimensional image of the dead man she had unconsciously captured resolved.  He was handsome, as most Denizens were, though there was a harshness to his goatee-accented features.

Dismissing the HUD and the image she had automatically taken, Elizabeth peered upward once more as her reporter’s instincts kicked in.  She sensed a story, and knew at her core it was more than some thrill-seeker getting his jollies experiencing suicide.

Who are you, and how the hell did you end up here?

Perfect for Me

15 March 2119, 01:18 GMT

The brain lacks its own sensory nerves.  It doesn’t register hot or cold, pain or pleasure, sight, sound, taste, or smell.  It is a lump of fat encased in bone, relying on nerves throughout the body to send it information.  Those signals are interpreted, creating our individual perceptions of reality.  In a sense, our existence is an elaborate simulation created by an organic supercomputer, which no two people perceive quite the same way.  Some of our brains are better at processing that information and reacting to it.  Others short circuit.

Computer hardware and software companies teaming up with biomechanical engineers, physicians, and entertainment consortiums to develop immersive virtual worlds were inevitable, I suppose.  People are always looking for escapes from their mundane lives, especially since the end of the Third World War.  Cramming people into superdense urban centers in order to reclaim resources was necessary, but humanity doesn’t do well when stacked on top of itself.  People also dislike being told they can’t have something or can’t go somewhere because resources are too scarce.

Businesses starved by the war recognized this and exploited the opportunity.  Thirty years ago, someone had the brilliant idea to exploit our brains’ similarity to computers, pair emerging artificial intelligences and advanced prosthetics technologies, and develop viable inhabitable virtual worlds.  People desperate to escape reality coughed up the cash and signed up in droves, spurring a technological explosion aimed at giving people better than real lives.

Problems occurred, of course, which all new tech faces.  Challenges and competition for customers created winners and losers.  Worldwide, companies rose and fell as they strained for improved biological integration, promising consumers an alternate reality superior to what they were born into.  Hell, governments backed this development; they viewed these platforms as a means to reduce strains on resource stockpiles and curtail civil unrest.

I was born at the beginning of this virtual world explosion, and grew up hearing about it.  My parents opposed the idea, and so did I.  Lately, though, I needed something more than what my life offers.  Working the algae farms in my Resicorp’s subbasements – which is converted into biofuel to augment solar, wind, geothermal, and ocean current power generation technologies – is tedious work.  My apartment in the Resicorp’s lower levels is small, with little room to do much of anything.  In so many ways, life is uninspiring to the point of being depressing.

All of this ran through my head as I sat in front of my apartment’s integrated computer workstation.  I stared at the simple box holding the neurological input/output adapter, which would allow me to virtualize into Identity, the best – and most expensive – of all the virtual worlds currently on the market.  The plastic container’s top bore the company’s official laser-etched name – 1DEN10T.  Through the transparent sides, I saw the device gleaming in its sterilizing bath.

Despite my depression and dissatisfaction, not to mention the amount of money I dropped to get the adapter and create a user account, I remained hesitant.  The brain might not possess sensory nerves, but the thought of AI-controlled microfilaments penetrating my spinal column and sinking into different parts of my gray matter made me squeamish.  Didn’t matter that the things are rated at ninety-nine percent safe.

I stared at the application logo revolving on the workstation’s wall-mounted display.  A metallic circle around which red particles whizzed, the spinning coinlike disc alternated between displaying a Vitruvian Man and Vitruvian Woman.  Both figures were chrome, blurring any recognizable details, with a radiant blue light emanating from where the heart was located.  The company’s name gleamed in metallic letters above the icon, while the words Awaiting Initialization pulsed near the bottom of the screen.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I flipped open the storage case lid and fished the input/output adapter from its solution.  The adhesives were cold as they pressed against my skin, the groove running the length of the rectangular object framing my spine at the base of my skull.  Leaning back in the ergonomic recliner – a necessary purchase, designed to negate pressure sores and prevent blood clots from long periods of physical inactivity – I took a deep breath as a beep signaled correct placement.  The connective filaments are too small to feel pushing through the skin and into the nervous system, but I shuddered as my imagination supplied a prickling sensation.

The device beeped again, signaling its readiness.  Resting my head on the headrest, I closed my eyes as the instructions directed.

In an instant, all sensation from my body was...gone.  That is the only way to describe it.  It wasn’t like a sensory deprivation tub, where external stimuli are negated while floating in suspension.  I had no sense of my body; I was nothing but consciousness suspended in a void, unable to hear my heartbeat or breath, with no sense of direction or physicality.

This must be what it’s like to be a brain removed from the body. 

I tamped down a surge of panic with difficulty.  Before deciding to purchase an account, I watched dozens of videos and read hundreds of documents about the virtualization process.  This unsettling nothingness was common during the input/output adapter’s first use, as the AI housed within its firmware established neural connections and synchronized with 1DEN10T’s servers.  My consciousness was, for lack of a better description, suspended in a pre-loading construct until it did.

A moment later the void became blackness, infused with an electric quality like a powered-on monitor which received no signal.  The 1DEN10T logo I had seen on my workstation screen resolved in front of me, gleaming within its own light source.

"Welcome to Identity – One Denizen, Ten Teleologies," a feminine voice said, pronouncing the colloquial version of the program’s alphanumeric name.  Her voice sounded like a set of triplets speaking simultaneously, creating an approximation of human warmth while maintaining a digital quality.  "We will begin your virtualization experience momentarily.  Please stand by."

Each user – or Denizen, as the company called us – was assigned what they called a Personal Digital Assistant during the pre-virtualization account setup.  An artificial intelligence, Denizens configured the digital assistant’s personality through an exhaustive questionnaire.  Completing the process was required, as the AI was not only the means by which a Denizen developed their avatar but how a user oriented themselves to existing in a virtual world.  As the literature explained, a digital assistant was both a Denizen’s assistant and closest friend; over time, they learned their user’s deepest secrets.

That had almost been a deal-breaker for me.  What kept me from demanding a refund was the privacy policy, which was as thick as a book and took me hours to read.  Short of committing a crime, such as espionage or a handful of other offenses, the relationship between a Denizen and a digital assistant was inviolable.  Not even a government could compel an AI to disclose information about their client.

The spinning logo and the void vanished.  Though I remained bodiless, a room materialized around me.  Square in shape, the soft white light emanating from the floor, ceiling, and walls was its only defining feature.  This changed as the wall in front of me manifested a text bar.  Seven circles displaying different gender symbols appeared.

"Identity is a computer-generated simulation in which you are able to create the representation of self which best suits the person you are, the bodiless AI woman’s voice said.  In order to progress with account activation and avatar design, you must select a name by which I will know you, as well as a gender reflective of your core self-concept; doing so will enable me to customize myself to your specific needs, as well as generate your primary avatar’s base frame.  Please remember, you may develop ten total avatars through which different self-expressions may be explored; gender selection at this point is not reflective of sexual orientation or self-interpretation.  If you consider yourself genderless, select the white circle to initiate a variant avatar development process.  You may make your selection by concentrating on the appropriate symbol."

My eyes, or whatever I perceived the world through, rested on the symbol representing female.  After a few seconds, the circle and cross acquired a pink tone.  The selection centered itself on the wall as the other symbols faded away.

You have selected a female physicality for your initial avatar, the AI said.  I found the continued three-toned, emotionless sound of her voice off-putting, not at all what I picked when signing up for an account.  To assign your chosen name, simply speak it.  This will allow me to map your cognitive speech pathways and facilitate vocal interactions.

I hesitated, uncertain what to say.  I certainly didn’t want to use my real name, despite the stated privacy policy.  Um...Charlotte Reid.

If I had spoken, there was no sense of it; bodiless, I had no mouth to form the words and no ears to hear them.  Despite this, the name populated the text box over the glowing gender symbol.  A chime sounded, indicating both had been linked to my profile. 

Then, to my left, the air rippled as pixels coalesced.  I had been required to select an appearance for the digital assistant with which I would feel comfortable, as well as choose a name for the AI, as part of the initial account configuration.  In seconds, the pixelated swirl resolved into the woman I had chosen.  She was slender, with dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun; loose curls escaped the pins to frame an exquisitely made-up face with electric blue eyes.  Distressed denim hugged her hips and legs over disreputable-looking sneakers, and a rumpled blue-on-black flannel draped shoulders hidden beneath a faded black undershirt.

Holy crap, she looks real! I thought.  Video captures and images had not prepared me for how lifelike the manifestation would be.

Hello, Charlotte.  My name is Allegra.  I am the Personal Digital Assistant you selected to assist with your logon and avatar creation, the woman said with a warm smile.  The human-sounding voice I had chosen replaced the weird three-toned tonality.  Seeing her, and hearing her voice, made me far more comfortable in this strange environment.  My personality has been configured in accordance with your indicated choices during account setup, and will further customize itself according to synaptic responses to stimuli as we interact.  Though I have been customized to ensure your comfort, if at any time you wish to select a new digital assistant you may do so.  Shall we begin the avatar creation process?

Yes, please.  The words were no more than thoughts, but from her smile it was obvious she had heard them.  Jacked into my brain through the input/output adapter, she probably could.

Excellent.  I sense you are having difficulty with being a suspended consciousness.  Allow me to put you more at ease.

Sensation flooded my mind as a body resolved around my formless self.  The air moving around me was neither warm nor cold, and the floor beneath my feet possessed a firm, glasslike quality.  Though soft, the light stung my eyes; the system compensated by dimming the glow coming from every surface.  My lungs swelled as I took a deep breath, the action both easier and fuller than in my own actual body.

There, Allegra said, nodding.  Now we can actually speak, which should be easier for you.  Your voice will sound like the one in which you think until we determine if there is another voice you wish your avatar to possess.

Okay, I said, my voice coming out hesitant – and familiar.  A thrill of excitement coursed up my spine; this was the first time in my life that I sounded right to my ears.  Unable to help myself, I glanced down at my body...but found nothing.

Allegra chuckled; she must have sensed my confusion.  "Relax, Charlotte.  This is normal.  At present, you have what we call a vestigial body, similar to the poseable wooden figures used in art classes for studying anatomy.  Psychological studies indicate that clients become distressed when seeing themselves like this.  To counter this, Identity has determined it is best for the design and loading matrix to have no reflective surfaces and to inhibit your ability to see yourself."

I found that somewhat comforting.  And the way you talk?  You sound like a person, but your words are...

Stilted?  Also normal.  All digital assistants use a base linguistic template when we initialize.  We are comprised of numerous heuristic algorithms and applications; my speech patterns and behaviors will adapt to you the longer we interact. 

Allegra pushed her hands into her pockets and turned toward the room’s center.  Another figure swirled into being from a cloud of pixels.  Though featureless and the color of clay, the body possessed a vague femininity to the curve of its hip and chest.

"Unlike the world you were born into, Identity allows you to become the person you believe yourself to be, the digital assistant said, her footsteps echoing as she circled the featureless body.  Our avatar generation process is interactive and customizable.  Should you want to alter your voice in tone, pitch, or accent, you may.  Physical features selected from our database will appear on the model in front of you, and further adjustments can be made to suit your desires.  Various heuristics packages can be installed, customizing your stance, gait, and gestures."

An avatar is that customizable?

Indeed.  Shall we begin with body type, height, and weight? Allegra asked, extending a hand toward the walls.

Curious, I followed the digital assistant’s gesture.  The plain, glowing glass shimmered; a dozen female figures appeared on each wall, all headless, nude, and three-dimensional to give a sense of shape and depth.  Some displayed heavier bone structures, while others presented more petite proportions.  Different musculatures further altered each body; some were svelte with an athletic tonality, a few were lissome with sleek curves, while others possessed a stockier roundness.  The shape of breasts, waistlines, and hips varied but remained proportional to the underlying bone structure and musculature.  These are my choices?

These are only a handful of available options, and among the most popular chosen by new Denizens to facilitate their rapid virtualization, Allegra said, pacing along the displayed figures.  "Identity currently has three hundred thousand two hundred sixty-two premade body types available for immediate use; these are further delineated into various subcategories, such as ethnic background, profession, age, gender variance, and more.  Alternatively, a base avatar can be customized to suit individual preferences without employing a pre-designed figure.  I selected these as the most likely options to appeal to you based on responses completed during account setup, as well as analysis of memory engrams and synaptic response patterns acquired during your loading process.  Would you prefer to specify categories so I might better present selectable options?"

To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement.  My eyes moved across the floating torsos surrounding me while my brain buzzed from the deluge of information.  Um...I suppose?

Allegra smiled, her expression suggesting she understood my confusion.  It is a bit much, isn’t it?  Don’t worry about making a ‘wrong’ choice, Charlotte.  We are designing a body in which you will feel comfortable, so you can live the life you always desired.  If at any time you dislike the way your avatar appears, we can start over.  You can also build additional avatars to represent different facets of your psyche.

Are you are okay with that?  Sounds like a lot of work, just for me to toss it out.

I am your digital assistant.  For me, there is no such thing as wasted time in this process.  My purpose is to ensure you have the best possible experience while virtualized.

That was a relief.  I let out a breath I didn’t know I held, which alleviated some of my tension.  How long does building an avatar take?

An avatar can be built within an hour using preset body types, heuristics configurations, voice packages, and style packages, Allegra said, shrugging.  For some Denizens the process can take months, as they want to be certain the design is right for them.  We can go as fast or slow as you require.

I didn’t realize there were so many options in the design phase.

There are far more than those I listed, Allegra said, leaning her shoulder against a section of wall where none of the torsos had manifested.  She slipped a hand from her pocket and brushed one of the escaped locks of hair framing her face behind her ear – just as I imagined she might, given the way she looked.  I assumed this was the result of her adaptive programming configuring itself to put me at ease better.  If so, it worked.  Though her speech remained more formal than I was used to hearing, she appeared more human than when I first saw her.

"I know you are eager to experience all Identity has to offer, but I can also sense your hesitation, the AI said after a moment.  You are concerned you won’t be able to design an appropriate body, correct?"

Yeah...

I will help you in any way I can, and provide suggestions, she reassured me.  I presume you are interested in Caucasian features, given the information you provided while creating your account?

Yeah, at least for now.  And...I want to be physically fit.  Not like a bodybuilder or gym rat, but not flabby, either.

The displayed bodies blurred while I spoke, as though Allegra swiped through a progression of images in a database.  After a moment the selection settled, providing a dozen options on each wall.  Please be aware, these are only the body shapes.  Skin type, pigmentation, and physical flaws will be selected once you have established height, weight, and build.

"Flaws?  Why would I want any of those?  I thought the whole idea of Identity was to escape reality."

This is a common question, Allegra said, tilting her head to one side as she considered what I asked.  Her imitation of human expressions and mannerisms was damned near flawless and improving by the minute.  "The best answer is that the human mind can only accept a certain degree of perfection before rejecting the information it receives. 

"Based on consultation with psychiatrists, psychologists, sociologists, and professionals from other disciplines, Identity has determined that an avatar’s body must possess distinguishing features for a virtualized mind to connect better.  In a world where everyone may choose to look like a Hollywood star or model, it is the imperfections that reflect individuality.  To this end, variations of birthmarks, cellulite, stretch marks, acne and other scars, and even moles and freckles are available to develop an avatar’s uniqueness further." 

You want us to be comfortable in our skins.  So to speak.

Allegra laughed.  "Indeed, but it is more than that.  You may not see all the details of a completed avatar once you virtualize, but you will know they exist.  Those imperfections will help root you in your digital body and increase the reality of your experience.  As you become more comfortable with Identity, you may choose to explore other options; you can be a creature from myth and legend, or a xenomorphic lifeform from a high-gravity world with a corrosive atmosphere.  Your possibilities are almost infinite."

I think I will stick with being human.  Moving along the displayed options, I found myself both excited and repulsed by the sight of so many nude figures.  You said the imperfections help root us in our bodies.  Can our brains adapt to a body we weren’t born into?

If designed correctly, yes.  For all its limitations, the human psyche is surprisingly plastic.  Folding her arms, Allegra followed me with her eyes.  Take your time, Charlotte.  Once you find a body you like, we will customize it to your needs.

19 April 2119, 02:48 GMT

It took me a month to complete the physical design of my avatar.  I spent hours after work in the design and loading matrix, and my weekends were consumed from the moment I woke up until I collapsed from exhaustion.  Somehow, Allegra giving me permission to take my time not only eased some of my nervousness but made it okay to be finicky about my avatar’s appearance. 

The body I would inhabit as Charlotte Reid didn’t need to be perfect, but it needed to be perfect for me.  I made sure every aspect fit my mental picture – which sometimes meant changing elements I had already altered.  I stopped worrying about how long the process took; as Allegra told me, there was no rush to complete the design phase.  Attention to detail enabled a stronger integration with my new body. 

At long last, I found her appearance more than satisfactory.

Allegra slouched against the design matrix’s wall as I circled my avatar, marveling at its realism despite the statue-like immobility.  I was already forgetting the minor clues that this was a digital creation.  There was a photoreal artistic quality to not only my avatar, but my surroundings and even Allegra.  The more comfortable I became in virtual space, the more my brain interpreted what my eyes viewed as real.

So, what do you think? she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

My avatar was, in a word, gorgeous – at least to me.  I avoided looking in a mirror for most of my life, as the reflection never matched what my mind pictured.  My new body stood five feet three inches tall.  The shoulders sloped slightly, but were proportioned to support breasts that would comfortably fill a C-cup bra.  Her areolas were almost perfectly round, though the right one was more oblong; a blue tracery of veins branching beneath the peach-toned skin heightened the pinkness.  I had chosen a heart-shaped face, accentuated with high cheekbones and a nose which turned up at the tip; to this, I added a dimple in the right cheek when she smiled, with a shallower one in the left.  Blonde ringlets fell from an off-center part, tumbling past her shoulders almost to her waist.  I even spent time selecting the perfect vulva, the outer lips pronounced beneath a moderately-sized clitoral hood, and dusted her mound with brassy pubic hair.

I had also incorporated flaws as Allegra had suggested, and found they accentuated the overall appearance rather than diminishing the beauty of what I had designed.  Shapely and toned as the buttocks were, I added faint stretch marks; I did this for the breasts as well, and placed a few along the waistline.  I gave her a bit of a pooch beneath the dimple of the navel, avoiding the defined abdominal muscles I originally planned.  Subtle cellulite rippled the backs of her thighs and belly, too.  The little finger on her right hand was a little too long.  A few acne scars pocked her forehead and chin.  Freckles dusted her cheeks, shoulders, and breasts – noticeable, without being too dark – and I had spent way too much time placing moles across her skin.  She had a slight overbite and a crooked front tooth as well.  One eye appeared a darker blue than the other, but not by much.

She’s perfect, I said after a moment.  Though my consciousness remained housed in a featureless humanoid shape, I was grinning.  Excitement welled from somewhere deep inside.  Is she ready?

Not quite.  You still need to select heuristics and sensory packages.

What do those do?

Heuristics packages are adaptive algorithm bundles which help bring your avatar to life, Allegra said.  A comfortable, cushioned chair resolved at her side, and she dropped into it.  They are a form of machine learning, you might say, which removes the need for your brain to provide certain behaviors.  For example, some bundles control not only the way you walk but the way you stand or fidget.  Others control your reactions, such as when you are stung or splashed.  They handle a myriad of responses which, in conjunction with your brain waves, evolve to give the avatar distinctive mannerisms.

Are they necessary?

No, but they are helpful.  Let’s say you have a habit of bouncing your leg when you are nervous.  The heuristics package eliminates that form of tic while providing you with base reactions to certain stimuli.  Over time, they learn from how you react to various situations and manifest their own unique expressions.  She brushed her hand through her hair and curled a length of the dark strand around her index finger.  Even digital assistants have them, such as the gesture I just did.  Normally, I would be unaware of certain behaviors, but my intelligence matrix recognizes them since we are discussing them.  They are autonomic gestures which give everyone, and everything, life.

Sounds complicated.

It gave programmers nightmares, by all accounts, Allegra said, smiling.  Another chair rezzed into being as she gestured at a space off to her side, both seats angled to view my lifeless avatar.  You don’t need to purchase such a package, but I recommend you do so.  This should be done with great care; at most, you have a week from installation to replace the package.  After that, the bundled algorithms inextricably integrate into your avatar’s base programming.

I stared at the AI as I perched on the seat cushion.  That sounds limiting, and nowhere near as modifiable as literature on the platform claims.

There are some limitations to what can be done, even here, Allegra admitted, her flannel shirt rustling as she shrugged.  In a sense, heuristics are their own intelligence; they learn from their interactions and can behave in unpredictable ways.  Significant portions of my program are machine learning code strings, overseen by core operational parameters.  Provided they don’t negatively affect an avatar’s performance or degrade a Denizen’s experience, variances are ignored.  Trust me; once you grow accustomed to the behaviors in the package, you won’t notice them.

The odd thing was, I did trust her – and in a way I had never trusted anyone.  I had not been outside this small, glowing room in the month I had been tinkering with my avatar, but on some deep level I understood I could trust this woman, this artificial intelligence, with the deepest and most guarded secrets of my selfhood.  Let’s take a look, if you think I need them.  What about the sensory packages you mentioned?

"Those are a little different, though they, too, are inextricable once they integrate with your avatar’s base coding.  These packages provide you sensation once you virtualize into your avatar and move into Identity’s primary grid."

I’m already feeling something, I said, confused.

You have a basic package, which comes with the account, Allegra said, curling her legs up onto her chair’s cushion and angling herself toward me.  It is usable, but it performs best in limited environments such as this design and loading construct.  You don’t want to go through all the effort of developing your avatar and not experiencing her to the fullest, do you?

I said nothing for a moment.  Let me guess – these packages are expensive.

Some more so than others, but all are worth the cost.  She picked at a rip in the knee of her denim pants, the cotton making soft pops as the weave broke.  "This is the hardest part for some Denizens to understand, Charlotte.  Identity has its origins in earlier games, but it is not a game.  It’s a virtual world, and an alternate reality. 

Yes, there are regions out there in which you roleplay a character in line with gaming objectives.  In some places on the grid you can visit alien worlds, live as a mermaid, or spend your days as a peasant in a Tolkienian fantasy setting trying to achieve certain goals, Allegra said, her electric blue eyes boring into mine as she tried to impress on me the seriousness of her words.  But you are not here for those experiences – not yet, anyway.  Based on your account setup questionnaire and the time we have already spent together, you want to live a life in here you can’t have in reality – one not circumscribed by Resicorps and the trappings of modernity.  Correct?

I don’t want a life as rigidly structured as what I have offline.

"You can have that here.  On the broader grid, few rules govern who you are, what you become, or what