Do Androids Dream Of Electronic Tickles?

[BOFH666]

Steve yawned, stretched his arms back and tried to focus on the unfeasibly small red numbers of the alarm clock. In front of him a monitor cast a harsh glow over the cluttered desk and mound of computer equipment scattered throughout the small room. Hidden within the shadows of the room were mounds of books, more computer equipment, stacks of magazines and the occasional pile of S-DVD’s waiting to be sent to clients. It had taken yet another all night session but his latest special order project was finally finished, and he quickly, but carefully, ran through the usual back-up processes.

It had been ten years since the first full-immersion virtual reality suits had been built and the computer landscape had seemingly changed overnight. It had started, as such things often do, as a military project, but once the basic problems of creating realistic feedback and interaction had been solved the technology had moved into the public domain amazingly quickly, and surprisingly cheaply to boot. The basic suit these days went for about £500, plus another few hundred for a computer capable of running it and they’d almost completely replaced the old keyboard / mouse combo. Even basic data input was handled by an operator with a headset now, voice input in most companies, direct thought input in those that really needed high throughputs, the human mind effectively becoming part of the system itself, acting as an interpreter between the real world and the virtual one.

It was in the home VR had really taken off though. Someone wearing a VR suit could not only talk to people all over the world, but also see and touch them as well. Anyone that had seen the explosion in the adult entertainment industry on the Internet in the mid nineties could have predicted that such a feature would be a big selling point. As usual more socially acceptable uses had followed, and as the technology was refined it pretty much obliterated the more traditional software market in the space of a few years. Okay, some things couldn’t be simulated yet without visiting a dedicated centre (realistic movement being the obvious one) but on the whole the vast majority of consumers were enthralled by this latest toy and took to it in a way unprecedented in the entertainment industry. Besides, the mind seemed to do a very good job of fooling itself into believing what the body saw and experienced in the simulations and most users would have sworn they were moving anyway.

Of course there were always those that wanted a little more than the usual mass market experience, and VR was no exception. People would pay surprisingly large sums of money to have their own VR experience tailor made to their exact requirements, and that gave rise to a new breed of software developers. With VR the software could effectively create it’s own graphics and sound from a reference point, usually a photograph or basic recording. Add a set of pictures of the celebrity of the month that covered every angle of their body and the computer could do the rest, even taking a good guess at what their skin would look like close up and their figure under whatever they were wearing in the supplied photographs.

Such techniques meant traditional graphic artists were virtually obsolete for all but the highest-specification simulations, which is were people like Steve came in to the picture. Skilled enough to set up the scenario his real talent was in imagination, in story telling and designing the logic the program would use to immerse the user in the virtual world. Over the last couple of years Steve had gained a reputation as a real ‘go to’ man, someone who could take even the most complex request and figure out how to make it work. But it was his other skills that had landed this current job, and he was looking forward to seeing how it turned out.

The request had been simple enough, a basic outline of wanting to interact with a famous celebrity, in this case a movie star, in an environment that definitely wasn’t PG-13. Steve had spent some time with the client and had been impressed; impressed enough to put in such long nights to get the project finished a week earlier than he’d normally agree to. The fact that she had been gorgeous helped, but it had been her attitude that had intrigued him. At 31 she was running a small company and making a damn good go of it, and as with most people she wanted to use VR to take a break from her normal life. The instruction had been simple: “Make me scared, make me let go of myself, let me loose control”. A simple enough request, but one that had proven surprisingly difficult to write. Still, he thought he finally had it and, with a temporary character in place of the client had watched things unfold from his ‘fly-on-the-wall’ view. While he didn’t know if this had been what she was expecting, he was certain it met her requirements. With a shrug he packaged up the disc in a plain black slipcover, added a brief covering note with the instructions and his contact details and put the whole lot into an envelope. He’d drop it in the post tomorrow and the client should get it the next day. Exhausted he turned off the computer and headed to bed, almost collapsing onto it as sleep claimed him, visions of a silk-clad dominatrix dancing in his dreams…

Fiona arrived home a little after eight in the evening, her feet aching after spending nearly twelve hours meeting and greeting clients during their annual review meeting, her normally perfect blonde hair starting to frizz at the ends from the continued climate changes of the air-conditioned board room and the sweltering heat of the city day. A quick glance at her answer phone reassured her she hadn’t missed anything important and she slipped her jacket off her shoulders and onto a clothes hook mounted in the short hallway. She turned to check the basket behind the door for any post and stopped dead. The brown envelope lay there innocently enough but she knew what it would contain and her heart skipped a beat. She’d been a little dubious when Liz had introduced her to that strange man who claimed to be a VR developer, and though some of those initial misgivings had faded when she’d actually talked to him, she’d still doubted he’d actually deliver on time, or for that matter, at all.

And now, there in front of her, so close she could touch it, was the culmination of an almost fifteen year fantasy, as dreamt up by a pale, pony-tailed guy she’d known for maybe a month. Was she sure she wanted to go through with this, what if it wasn’t what she was expecting, what she wanted, and what she…needed? But there was the problem, now that this particular fantasy was actually in her hands how could she not try it, at least just once?

After a long moment Fiona darted forward and snatched the disk from the mailbox and almost reverently walked into the bedroom, placing the disk, still in it’s packaging, down next to the computer. She quickly stripped out of her suit, hesitating slightly as her fingers reached for the VR suit. No, she thought, do this properly, on the off chance the geek had actually delivered what was promised. She stepped into the adjacent bathroom and turned on the shower, bringing it to a point where the water was hot enough to steam and barely within a comfortable limit against her bare skin. She stood under the streaming flow, letting the water caress her, easing the aches and tensions in her muscles, leaving her almost as relaxed as if she’d had a full massage at her local gym. She quickly dried herself off then headed back into the bedroom, slipping the VR suit over her smooth skin, feeling the sensors adjust the fit slightly to make a good contact with every inch of her body. Finally she pulled the hood up over her head, the usual moment of panic taking her as she sealed the front of the suit over her mouth and nose. It lasted but a moment though as a deep breath reassured her the suit’s thin membrane was working properly, allowing her to breathe normally even with the fabric covering her face.

The suit came to life, feeding her normal surroundings to the lenses covering her eyes, allowing her to move as naturally as if she were wearing nothing at all as she stepped to the computer, checked the limiters were set to prevent her walking outside of the clear six foot by seven area in front of the terminal and loaded the disk. Her hand hovered over the keyboard, a few last thoughts chasing themselves through her mind, then a flash of determination as she stabbed the commit key. The room around her seemed to flex, then stretch away, the wall in front of her pulling out into a tunnel that seemed to reach to infinity. Then, like an elastic band snapping back into shape she was catapulted through the tunnel, the sides of the passage blurring as she entered the program.

Fiona looked around and found herself in a room of mirrors. It was like stepping inside of a diamond, the small area of floor she stood in the only flat area as the walls immediately started slopping upwards, presenting multiple images of her body as she stared in fascination at the sight. Her digital persona was dressed in a loose, flowing white dress, low cut and designed to flatter her figure. Not that she needed much help in that area, she was a natural beauty and was one of those people that seem to keep their figure no matter what they do. An energetic lifestyle and regular trips to the gym had helped as well and the results were spectacular. Her blond hair seemed to flow down her back and move almost on its own, as if a gentle wind was caressing it although there was no obvious place for such a breeze to come from. The same breeze moved the dress itself, the long, flowing strips of fabric only secured at the start and end of each run, and then only loosely, giving the nearest possible impression of being naked while maintaining her dignity.

One side of the diamond seemed to split and fold down, revealing a darkly lit corridor beyond, metal walls and ceiling, a wooden floor with only the occasional torch flickering in almost medieval looking holders on the walls to light her way. She stepped forwards and found to her surprise that the elaborate costume she wore didn’t restrict her movement in the least, being just short enough to prevent anything getting trapped underfoot as she walked and the fasteners being positioned in the most natural places possible. In her mind she revised her initial opinion of the programmer, he at least had an eye for clothing, maybe she could get him to help design her summer wardrobe next year.

After she’d walked maybe twenty feet down the corridor she heard a grinding noise from behind her and turned to see the edge of the diamond reseal itself, leaving her trapped in this reality, at least for as long as she wished to be. Curious now she walked down the corridor, her eyes adjusting to the flickering firelight as she did so, and she thought she could just make out, beyond the farthest flickering torch a wooden door mounted in the wall to her left. As she walked she found herself becoming more and more nervous, she hadn’t really specified what she wanted to happen, and this lack of anything obviously threatening was getting to her. Finally she reached the door and reached out tentatively towards it, ready to jump back at the first hint of anything coming through the portal towards her.

The door swung open silently, and the sight beyond froze her mind for a second as she struggled to comprehend what she saw. The room was maybe three hundred feet long, about double the length of an Olympic swimming pool, with one door mounted at the far end, seemingly opposite this one. In between there was what appeared to be a sea of feathers, twisting and rolling as if they were liquid, the surface of this strange sea undulating as if there were real waves pulsing through it. The walls were slick, and the only way to cross that room was obvious, if she wanted to get across the only way was to swim through. Considering what she was wearing such a crossing would be torturous in the extreme and she backed away from the doorway, turning to try and find another way around.

As she looked back down the corridor she noticed something odd, the torches were going out, slowly, steadily and moving towards her in a growing cloud of darkness they were being methodically snuffed out. From the heart of that darkness Fiona would have heard she heard a soft rustle, a sound that seemed totally out of place in this would of steel and darkness. As she watched she noticed that, within the blackness moving towards her, there was a darker shape, a shadow that seemed to move on it’s own. Just as the realisation of what she was seeing hit her, the last torch went out and a figure tackled her gently but firmly to the ground.

For a moment she panicked, and that was all her assailant needed. She felt herself being rolled over towards the doorway and reached out, desperation fuelling her moves as her fingers found the doorframe and locked on, her legs pressed against the opposite edge. The light from the room spilled out into the corridor, illuminating long, shapely legs, clad in a catsuit that seemed darker than anything she’d ever seen. Her mind registered the fact that the suit was made out of silk, rather than the more traditional leather or rubber, but she had little time to ponder the significance of that titbit of information as she felt her assailant reach down and wrap strong arms around her legs and lift her entire lower body, from hips to feet, off the ground and throw it over the threshold.

Fiona could feel the occasional touch on her bare feet, a gentle caress by the feathery ocean below her and fought to hold back her laughter, knowing she couldn’t afford to loose her grip on the doorframe as she tried desperately to lift her legs up, away from their seemingly inevitable fate. But her attacker was too quick, already she was lying down next to the struggling blonde, legs extended, feet pushing at her hips to prevent her getting any leverage as silk-clad fingers descended on her exposed underarms.

In the back of her mind Fiona had expected the first touch to be a light one, but again she was surprised as a hard, almost brutal sensation exploded on her exposed side, fingers scrapping and searching over her armpit and ribs, causing her to convulse in surprise as her body betrayed her. Mouth open as laughter was ripped from her lungs and throat, she felt her grip slip slightly and a moment of sheer panic fuelled her, and she actually made a little ground against the seemingly inexorable pressure against her lower body and managed to hook the toes of one foot around the ledge for a moment. For a moment her heart soared, seeing the future before her clear as day, a triumphant fight back ending with throwing her attacker into the feather filled pit prepared for her. Adrenaline coursed through her, her arms flexing as she started to swing her body, using her delicate grip as a pivot point, her hips and legs arching upwards, just one swing away now from getting back onto solid ground. She was going to do it, she was going to win, she was…

A hand caressed the bare skin of her belly, fingers flicking over the taunt skin at the exact moment she was swinging out, away from the ledge. A single finger entered her belly button and with unerring accuracy raked across the virgin skin hidden within. Fiona convulsed, and instinctively tried to reach down to batter the hand away. With only one hand locked on the door frame, her own swing ripped her from her perch, sending her falling back into the room, her body tingling in anticipation of what was to come. As she fell she finally saw her attacker clearly, outlined in light as Fiona dropped, seemingly in slow motion, every detail etching itself into her memory as her assailant lay, stretched out comfortably on her side, ready to watch the show. Long, curvy legs led up to perfect hips and a flat stomach that even in her current predicament sent a twinge of jealousy through Fiona’s mind. Full breasts and slim yet well defined arms, all covered in that black silk catsuit, so tight it was like a second skin, a matching black ninja mask wrapped around her face, hiding everything but her eyes, a flash of pale, almost porcelain skin and a luxurious wave of red hair flowing down her back and over her side, a startling contrast against the black night of the silk. Then Fiona hit the pool and her world disintegrated.

It was, for the first moments anyway, like falling into a pool of water, the substance around her reacting just like a liquid and she felt herself drop at least five feet under the surface on her back. She kicked upwards and broke the surface, taking a deep breath, then the feathers started their diabolical work. They were everywhere, around her, below her, the movement of the ‘sea’ brushing them against her body in a way that she’d never experienced before, never even imagined possible. Her dress, previously so elegant now seemed to float away from her body, the feathery tide washing in underneath it and touching what felt like every inch of her skin.

The sensations overwhelmed her and she literally screamed with laughter, striking out desperately for the far door, knowing with absolute certainty she wouldn’t make it. It took barely ten strokes before her laughter overcame her and she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to batter the feathers away as she would a person tickling her armpits, her ribs, her feet. But there was no one physical presence here, every movement of her body just seemed to make the feathers flow around her faster, increasing her ticklish torment exponentially. She could do nothing now but laugh and she started to sink into the suffocating pool, the feathers seeming to suck her downwards.

[BOFH666]

She struggled to keep her head above the surface, knowing that if she slipped below she was lost, that she’d never have the strength to break free again. She managed another two strokes towards the far door, but it was still almost two hundred feet away and it seemed impossible. A wave passed over her, lifting the surface level up, the feathers caressing her face and neck, teasing with brief, light touches as they rose ever higher. She felt her body shutting down, giving in to the sensations that were racing through it and she slipped under the surface, her laughter now muffled as she fell downwards.

To her surprise she found she could breathe, a small space clearing in front of her mouth to provide an air supply. It was small comfort. The feathers surrounded her now and were starting to move faster against her helpless body, darkness enveloping her like a shroud. Her laughter passed beyond words or volume and became silent, her mouth open in an expression of sheer ticklish horror, the stimulation being forced upon her threatening to drive her out of her mind as she fought to hang on to her sanity in the dark. Still the feathers moved faster as she fell, sweeping past her so fast she was afraid they would begin to cut her. She felt a pull from below, her descent increasing as the feathers swirled around her, forming a cyclone of speed, of ticklish sensation beyond measure. Her lungs burned, her eyes wept as she felt blackness tinge her vision, a darker black against the artificial night created in this ticklish hell, spreading from the centre of her vision to meet the red that was encroaching from the edge.

Below her she dimly saw a light, a bright white light shining up, only visible in thin streaks through the vortex of feathers. The whirlpool was dragging her down, heading faster and faster towards the light, her mind begging now for something, anything to end this, her body screaming for mercy as she felt her feet burst into empty air.

Suddenly she was falling, the air now clear, bright white light impacting her eyes, her body slow to recognise the absence of the stimulation it had endured. As she regained control of her own flesh she looked around, the room in front of her blurred by her tears. It was huge, a brilliant white egg shaped room and she appeared to be hanging, suspended in mid-air in the middle of it. As she looked she realised that the room wasn’t quite a perfect white. Far below her was a small black spec, a shape that looked somehow familiar, a shape that was getting rapidly larger as it moved towards her.

The black shape beneath her grew rapidly as it approached, until she could make out the outline of a black-clad woman rising to meet her, it could even have been the same one that had dumped her in the tank but she couldn’t tell from this angle. Panicked, Fiona tried to run, her feet pounding the empty air below her as she tried to find a way to move, to escape the seemingly inevitable fate that the rising shape promised. Suddenly, in a moment of clarity that almost left her breathless she realised what she was doing wrong and took a deep, calming breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she struggled to bring her body back under control.

Her eyes snapped open and she willed herself upwards, concentrating her mind on moving, rather than relying on her body. After all, in VR, what was the difference between flesh and spirit? There was a pause, a timeless instant when she though she’d guessed wrong, that she’d squandered her only chance at escape. Then an unseen force grabbed her and she soared up and away from her would-be attacker, flying through the air as gracefully as if she’d been born to it, the white strands of her dress dancing in the air like wings as she felt a sense of freedom, of pure joy wash over her as her mind gave up fighting against the impossible reality and started to believe she was actually flying.

Looking up she saw the roof of the vast chamber coming rapidly closer and with barely a conscious thought rolled over in midair, as easily as an athlete clearing a high jump bar, then she shot downwards, on a collision course with the woman in black who had remained motionless in the centre of the room. The distance closed with a speed that was dizzying, then she was on her, her right hand stretched out as she went past like a bullet, fingers grabbing a handful of cloth as she passed and a gentle tearing noise following her down in her swan dive.

Fiona had been aiming for the woman’s mask, but as the last second her target and moved back and away, turning as she did so, her own hand coming out with a knife blade twisting upwards to meet the descending angel. As Fiona pulled out of her headfirst rush and hung motionless fifty feet above the floor she felt the cool air caress her now bare right side, the cloth cut cleanly where it met the collar around her throat, leaving it hanging from the waist of the dress like a forgotten party streamer. But in Fiona’s right hand was a length of black cloth, and a glance back up showed the ninja looking at her arm, now exposed from shoulder to wrist, the black glove still covering her hand. The contrast between the deep black of the costume and the almost porcelain white of her skin was breathtaking, and for a few seconds the two women hung in mid-air, each evaluating the other anew.

Then the ninja raised her knife hand to her forehead, saluting Fiona in what appeared to be a genuine display of admiration, followed almost immediately by a fast, shallow dive straight towards her. Fiona sped for the wall of the chamber, a plan forming in her mind. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her adversary speeding along behind her, slowly gaining on her. She looked back towards the wall, now only seconds away and tried to concentrate, the timing would have to be perfect for this to work. Seemingly so close to the wall she could touch it, Fiona flipped in mid air, turning through a tight arc, facing back the way she’d come as her momentum carried her to the wall. She let her knees absorb what speed was left, then pushed off like a swimmer kicking away from the side of the pool, her hands once again grasping downwards.

Only to find the ninja had somehow anticipated her move and reacted before she made it. She was above Fiona, lying motionless in the air, knife blade facing down towards her body as she sped past, the blade perfectly positioned to slice through the waist of the dress, leaving it hanging by a single strand of fabric connected to both collar and waist. Fiona didn’t stop to asses the situation though, she could practically feel her opponent behind her, getting ever closer as they danced through the chamber. Whatever she tried she found herself unable to do anything to shake the woman, and with every turn she made, every duck and dive, she found herself losing a little more ground.

Knowing it was only a matter of time until she was overtaken, Fiona threw her head back and headed upwards, as fast as she could manage, then repeated her earlier dive bomb, this time flashing around her opponent, concentrating on avoiding the blade rather than claiming a prize of her own, a last ditch plan forming in her mind. She headed down and this time didn’t stop until she reached the floor of the chamber, alighting gently and turning to face the falling woman. She didn’t have long to wait as the ninja collapsed on top of her, sending them both rolling across the floor in a mass of arms, legs and fluttering fabric.

They stood a few feet apart, the woman in black now naked from the throat to her waist, her silk top lying on the floor some distance away, the irregular lines of Fiona’s nails clearly visible on the garment where they’d ripped it away from her body. Lying next to it though was the vast majority of Fiona’s dress, the knife had found its mark and Fiona was now naked other than the thin white collar left around her neck.

From above came a strange noise, a metallic rustling and both women looked up at the distant top of the chamber, a strange silver mass barely visible. It grew rapidly as it came closer to them, then Fiona realised with a burst of shock and adrenaline what she was looking at. They were tentacles, metal tentacles, thousands of them in different shapes and sizes and they were coming straight for her! She looked around, trying to find a way out, and her gaze fell on her adversary as she realised there was no trace of panic, of nerves in the woman’s body language. At that moment realisation dawned, and Fiona understood the rules of the game. She’d set them herself when she’d removed the ninja’s sleeve, the first person to loose their clothing, looses the game.

Fiona shot into the air, a small, distant, analytical part of her mind noting that the ninja was just standing in place, almost casually observing what was going to happen. Fiona banked and dived through the air, but it was hopeless, the tentacles were closing her down, always reducing her manoeuvring space and it was only a matter of time before they caught her. Then, as she glanced back towards them she saw something that made her heart sing with hope, a door had opened on the far side of the writhing mass, a small dark hole in the white walls that promised freedom if she could only reach it.

She didn’t think about her next move, she just did it. Flipping over she shot back towards the tentacles, trusting to her reactions to get her through. There were a couple of small outlying arms, then she was past and into the thick of them. Steel glinted at her from all directions as the tentacles dove and grasped at her body, but always she managed to slip away from their grasp, aiming for the brief patches of white she saw through the forest of silver, ducking and diving at a speed that would have terrified her if she had time to indulge such emotions. Then, suddenly, miraculously a gap opened and she shot forward, her fingers outstretched as she hurtled towards the waiting door, reaching out to embrace the blackness.

Her fingers touched it, gravity reclaiming her hands as she passed through, then an irresistible force closed around her right ankle, dragging her back into the room. A single tentacle had managed to grasp her as she felt her freedom, and with a terrible swiftness it pulled her back in, plunging her deeper and deeper into the forest of grasping arms, steel limbs wrapping around her wrists and ankles like serpents, holding her spread-eagled in the centre of the chamber as the smaller arms descended on her, the tips of each tentacle resting against her now bare flesh until she was encased from throat to toes in a steel cocoon.

She knew what was about to happen, but it still took her by surprise when the tentacles started to move and pulse against her, all of them at once, vibrating and wriggling against her skin, sending shockwaves through her body as every muscle and nerve strained as one to escape. Each tentacle ended in a fine, blunt tip and they were all vibrating as they traced seemingly random patterns across her skin, overlapping with those next to them but never actually touching each other. It was as if every last nerve ending in her body was being tickled at once and Fiona could do nothing but howl with laughter, her head thrown back, her hair falling like a curtain over the steel arms covering her back, her mouth stretched wide as the laughter poured from her in an unstoppable flood.

Just as suddenly as it had started the sensations stopped, the tentacles becoming still as whatever intelligence was driving them paused for her to get her breath back. Fiona was slow to recover though, the intensity of that first attack greater than anything she’d experienced in her life, driving the air from her lungs in seconds. Finally she managed to draw a breath normally, and that single act seemed to set the tentacles off on their next sequence.

This time only one arm at a time came to life, starting at the very tip of her right hand, dancing over her right thumb, dropping down far enough to caress the skin between thumb and forefinger, then back up. Under other circumstances Fiona doubted she’d have even noticed such a delicate touch, or at most found it mildly erotic. Now though, with her body and mind reeling from her experiences it was as if her entire body had become one giant ticklish playground for anyone, or anything, to exploit. Even this delicate touch was enough to start her giggling, a process that continued as the next tentacle took up the gentle tickling on her forefinger, then on over each finger in turn, and down the back of her hand, looping round to the palm and finally to the wrist.

To cover such a small area had taken nearly ten minutes, and each tentacle had a slightly different action, never allowing her to adapt to a particular feeling or sensation. She was giggling constantly, fighting to retain control, knowing that this was only a warm-up, that anywhere else on her body would be far, far more ticklish, would be a far worse experience than this gentle tease. The tickling passed on to her wrist, causing her to bite her lip in an effort to keep from breaking out into laughter, her body trying to pull away from that maddening sensation, her efforts increasing as the focus moved further down her arm. Slowly, inexorably it passed down her forearm and over her elbow, lingering over any area that caused a greater-than-expected reaction as she fought to escape before it reached her body. Now the tickling was barely a fraction of an inch above her smooth, silky armpit and she gritted her teeth, knowing she couldn’t take it, knowing that her only option was to give in and laugh.

Without warning the arms wrapped stopped in place, holding just above that supremely sensitive skin, as the same, slow, agonising process was repeated on her left arm. Minutes seemed to stretch to eternity as she shook her head from side to side, the certain knowledge of what was waiting when the tickling reached her left armpit echoing in her mind as she sought some way, any way, to retain control. Finally, an hour or more after it had started the tickling reached her armpit once more, and this time it did not stop but was joined by a matched tickle on her right side.

The tips of the tentacles stroked and tweaked the taut skin of her underarms, wriggling and writhing, the vibrations coursing through her helpless body as she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, the last vestiges of self-control rapidly ebbing away from her. The sensations swung down and round, slowly circling her body, one on the front, one on the back. The feeling on her back was almost pleasant, a massaging motion that seemed to relax her muscles even as they tensed under the touch. The other one though was a far different story, and started to rove over her right breast, exploring every single angle, every curve, every rise and fall of her body, testing her reactions.

Fiona shook her head back and forth, her eyes shut so tightly it was almost comical, lips pressed together into a thin line, as she fought to hold back, just for one more second. Then the tickling reached her nipple, and the last of her resolve, her control fell away in a rush, leaving only laughter in its place. She howled, she begged, she pleaded, but there was no one to hear her cries, no-one to grant mercy, just the machine performing it’s programming. The twin ticklish probes moved down, matching their motions as they explored her sides, brushing along each and every rib with a torturous slowness that left her praying for this to end, for something, anything to happen to stop her suffering. And yet, somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice echoed against the curtain of laughter, growing steadily louder with it’s simple, one word demand: More.

The tentacles continued their relentless exploration, joined now by two more pulses as groups of four tentacles swept across her flat stomach and waist, poking and prodding with a grace and ease that she would never have believed possible from a mere machine before today. They swept downwards, over her ribs and between her thighs, curving up and around her ass, cataloguing every inch of their journey. As they tickled her most private, sensitive areas Fiona found herself lost in confusion, her laughter joined now by moans of desire, of a need so primal words could not begin to define it. The sense of loss as the tickling moved down her thighs was like a physical blow, and she felt a sob rack her body as she realised what was about to happen.

The tickling continued to head downwards, sliding over her thighs and knees, curving around her calves to her feet. There it slowed, reducing to a single tickle at a time as it first explored the top of her foot. Fiona gasped at the touch, but at this point there was little she could do about it, even laughter was denied to her now as her lungs were empty and her throat felt raw from the continuous demands placed on it. The tickling reached her toes and, just as it had with her fingers, started to explore one toe at a time, first around the sensitive skin, then delving deeply into the unexplored softness between each of them. Her eyes bugged out, her mouth open in a silent scream as her head hung limply, all energy and fight driven from her, an acceptance of her fate replacing her usual battling personality. The tickling swept down her sole, poking and prodding all the way back to her ankle, then the process was repeated on her left foot, leaving her in tears, finally broken after her torment.

[BOFH666]

The machine paused, as if deciding on it’s next course of action. Suddenly the tentacles shifted, the majority moving back and up, disappearing into the holes they’d emerged from. Those that remained shifted position until what felt like every major ticklish spot on her body was covered by at least one of the steel arms. Her wrists and arms were still held by the thickest of the tentacles, but now smaller ones reached to both armpits, her left flank from ribs to hip, behind her right kneecap, both soles, both breasts, one was inside her belly button and several had positioned themselves at her pussy.

At an unseen signal they all started moving at once, each stimulating her body in a different, ticklish way, each designed and targeted to provide maximum stimulation to a specific area. She thrashed in her bonds, fingers spread wide, head thrown back, mouth wide open, eyes rolled up into her skull as the combination of torturous tickles and extreme erotic pleasure shot through her, her mind unable to cope with the seemingly contradictory feelings. She felt herself sinking, drowning in sensation, overloaded by the stimulation, her need building inside her, the one small voice now a symphony of angles in her head, all praying for a release, a small mercy after all she’d been through.

As if reading her mind the tentacles at her breasts and pussy started to increase their attentions, speeding up but also changing their patterns until the erotic stimulation they caused far outweighed the ticklish ones. Fiona felt herself ride the wave to its peak, the pause as she hung on the edge for a moment, then the crashing fury of her orgasm swept over her, leaving her weak as a kitten, barely aware of her surroundings as she twitched involuntarily, random nerves firing from the overload of stimulation that coursed through her body.

She was vaguely aware of falling, slowly, through the air as the tentacles released her and pulled back into the wall, an impression of the bottom of the chamber swinging open and the gentle thud as she touched down like a feather in the room below. She never felt the gentle stroke of a white silk outfit, the exact mirror of the ninja’s in every way other than the colour, appearing around her naked form, or the brief hum of the hatch above her closing. The fact that she lay there, still and silent for at least fifteen minutes as her body recovered from her ordeal passed her by, and only when she had regained her senses did she start to look around the room. After the first glance her heart sank, the knowledge that this wasn’t yet over flashing though her as she gazed at the stone walls, the racks of instruments illuminated by the flickering torchlight as the black ninja stepped forward into the middle of the dungeon…

Fiona took a quick breath, fighting to hold back the instinctive reaction to run from this woman that had inflicted her previous ordeals upon her. After a moment she felt her fear drain away, replaced with something raw and powerful, a fury speeding through her body like lightning as she saw a chance not for escape but for revenge. She came to her feet in a single graceful movement, controlling her body more accurately than she’d ever done before. Her right foot slid forward, her back straight and arms held in a ready position. The other woman matched the move, though she moved her left foot forward to mirror Fiona and for what felt like an age they faced each other, gathering their thoughts for what was to come.

At the same instant both women moved, darting towards each other with a speed that seemed to defy the laws of physics as they raced forwards. They met in a blur of motion, Fiona felt a stiff shot from a hand glance off her ribs as the side of her right foot came around to deliver a solid blow to the other woman’s ribs. Their momentum carried them on for a few steps and both women turned quickly, coming back at each other in the blink of an eye.

This time Fiona saw her opponent go low, a quick forward roll which ended with both legs scything through the air towards Fiona’s knees. She leapt upwards, pulling her legs out of harms way and kicking down at the right ankle of the ninja, only to find her own ankle caught between the calves of her target. Fiona couldn’t get her leg free in time and hit the ground heavily, twisting as she did so to land on her back.

Fiona twisted right, moving away from where she’d landed, bouncing back to her feet in one smooth movement that brought her back to a ready position, only to find her opponent hadn’t moved an inch. In fact she was standing so still only the faint rise and fall of her chest gave any indication of life. Fiona straightened from her crouch and moved forward slowly, not taking her eyes off the woman as she moved forward. She raised a hand and reached forward, every muscle tensed for action if there was even the slightest movement. Her finger touched the woman’s shoulder…

… and she found herself flying back across the room as if fired from a cannon, her back striking the stone wall hard enough to drive all the air from her body, her arms and legs stretched out spread-eagled as the chains attached to the ceiling and floor seemed to come alive, reaching out to bind her limbs tightly, holding her trapped in place. Throughout it all the black clad woman hadn’t moved, but stayed staring straight ahead, at the same spot of wall that Fiona now occupied.

The air seemed to stir in the dungeon, as if someone had opened a door, then a faint breeze sprung up from nowhere, moving around the room, forming a small vortex of wind like a miniature tornado. The tornado seemed to suck the shadows themselves into it’s core as it started to slow, the shadows became solid and, as the last of the wind died away they formed the shape of a man. Only the shape though, there was no texture, just an outline etched in shadow, a blackness so complete it drew the very light to it, leaving a faint aura glowing around it’s edge.

The figure looked at her for a moment, or at least turned its head towards her, then moved its attention back to the still-frozen ninja. A hand gesture and the woman was flung back onto a large wooden wheel mounted horizontally on the floor, her arms and legs pulled out into the same position as Fiona herself was trapped. Another gesture and there was the rustle of tearing silk as the ninja’s outfit was ripped from her by invisible hands, leaving her naked and helpless.

Despite the terror that was threatening to consume her, Fiona found herself captivated by the scene in front of her. The representation of her fantast, the detail present in the image of the woman who had so fascinated her during her student years was perfect. The long, sleek limbs, perfect body and porcelain skin, all topped off with that mane of fiery red hair all added up to one of the most beautiful and captivating people Fiona had ever seen. Even now, with her body fighting against her bondage, a part of her wanted nothing more than to take this woman in her arms and revel in the sensations that would surely follow, just the thought of breathing ‘Nicole’ into her lover’s ear was enough to make her shake with desire.

All of this went through her mind in the blink of an eye as she watched the shadow kneel over the redhead’s waist, its hands reaching out towards her untouched skin. As the black fingers slid over her body, the captive woman screamed with laughter, as if she was being tickled by a hundred hands instead of two. A part of Fiona’s mind noted that even the voice was perfect, her laughter high pitched, almost musical as she writhed under the things touch. As the hands moved across her she howled hysterically, her feet pounding against the wooden wheel as she struggled against her bonds, but there was simply no way out for her, no matter how much she screamed and begged, the shadow man on top of her simply kept up it’s slow, remorseless exploration of her body. It didn’t seem to add up though, Fiona thought, there was no way that a simple stroking motion should have that sort of effect on a body, there had to be something else going on.

As if reading her thoughts the shadow straightened up and walked towards her. Fiona used every last drop of her self control to face the thing without struggling against the chains that held her, staring defiantly at where she thought it’s eyes would be behind the blackness. Suddenly she felt as if she’d been jerked forward, the figure seeming much closer now, though neither she nor it had actually moved. It happened again and now she understood, her vision was being magnified somehow, letting her see detail that her normal senses couldn’t perceive.

She relaxed and accepted the next, much longer jerk, and gasped in surprise. The shadow in front of her changed somehow, becoming a mass of colour, swirling and dipping over itself in an endless pattern, the overall effect reminding her of the Mandelbrot images she’d seen as a kid. An infinite pattern of dips, edges, curves and peaks, constantly shifting and changing in front of her eyes. Suddenly she felt another jerk, this time towards the still-giggling body of her fantasy and saw the same, or at least, a similar pattern there, hidden far beyond the visible layer of skin.

As she watched the shadow moved away from her, back to its victim, leaning over her thighs, resting a hand on the smooth skin. The woman shrieked and twisted to escape the touch, only now Fiona could see why. The two sets of images seemed to meld, interlocking as one, only the image from the shadow was definitely the more aggressive, forcing itself onto the other, twisting and writhing at a speed that was almost dizzying around the peaks and troughs of its victim.

This was tickling on the microscopic scale; something so far beyond the realms of the ordeals Fiona had suffered through it was like comparing a normal stick match to the heat of a thousand suns. As she watched Fiona saw the patterns change, fluttering and writhing under the assault, colours changing rapidly from the rainbow normally displayed to waves of reds, pinks and purples, a visual representation of the torment being unleashed on this beauty.

With a final jerk her vision returned to normal and it took her a second or two to adjust to the sudden change in perspective. When she did she saw to her horror that the shadow appeared to be melting, dripping onto the redhead like candle wax, forming a pool on her stomach yet somehow not dripping off her body onto the floor. As the last of the shadow fell it revealed a rather plain man in his mid-thirties, looking down at his victim, an expression of intense interest passing across his face.

He reached down to the edge of the wheel and removed a large steel pin, then with one movement set the wheel spinning. As it rotated the pool of shadow seemed to flow with the motion, moving up and around Nicole’s body, causing her to howl in ticklish misery with every new hollow and curve it touched. After a few seconds of watching this entertainment the man turned and walked towards Fiona, making the same hand gesture he’d used on Nicole earlier. The results were identical as Fiona felt her clothing torn from her body by invisible fingers, leaving her hanging naked from the wall in front of this stranger.

The man walked up to her until he was standing close enough to kiss her, seemingly studying her, staring into her eyes as he watched her reaction to the howls coming from the floor, her vision of the wheel now blocked by the man standing before her. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight in an embrace that seemed to have little enthusiasm or warmth behind it, more the clinical touch of a laboratory technician. After a few seconds he released his grip and stepped back, leaving behind a cold sensation wherever he’d touched her.

Fiona shivered from the chill and looked down, her eyes widening in horror as she saw the same liquid shadow clinging to her body wherever the man had touched her. As soon as she saw it the shadow started to move, to grow, spreading out over her body, caressing her skin with a sensation unlike any she’d felt before. It was as if her nerves were being tickled directly, without anything to protect them from the touch of a thousand feathers that danced over every nerve ending and synapse. She screamed, her body shuddering under the demands being placed on it as the tickling grew exponentially as the shadow enveloped her.

Her lungs were burning, her mind on fire as she tried to find some way, some reference to deal with what she was feeling, but there simply was none. The shadow glided over her stomach and inside her belly button, down her thighs to meet the smaller pool spreading up from her knees. Within seconds she was almost completely covered, only her throat and head left exposed and the sensations being inflicted on her seemed to multiply with every second that passed, the intensity and power beyond her comprehension.

All she could hear was laughter, her own and Nicole’s mixed into one never-ending symphony of forced delight, impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. The shadow surged up her throat and jaw, covering her ears and sliding up over her hair, leaving her hearing intact to ensure she missed no nuance of this torment. Only her eyes, nose and mouth were now uncovered then, with a final rush, the shadow claimed them as well and darkness covered her world as she fell, unable to breathe or feel anything, only hear the constant, never-ending laughter as she dropped down into the blackness.

She awoke on the floor of her own room, her body soaked in sweat, muscles aching, lungs burning, the VR suit barely making contact with her skin as she lay there shaking. Slowly her world came back into focus, the emergency signal on the computer proof of the forced disconnect the system had performed in response to her vital signs peaking at dangerously high levels. She tried to move but her body simply refused and she succumbed to its urgent demand for rest, falling asleep where she lay.

Fiona was awoken by sunlight blazing in to her room through the skylight, shining straight into her eyes. Blinking she slowly lifted herself from the floor and onto the bed, her movements those of someone running on instinct as she stripped off the VR suit and stepped into the shower. As the hot water pummelled her body she started to remember what had happened the previous night and found her fatigue being replaced by anger. How dare that geek program something so dangerous! What if she’d turned off the safety programs as some did, she could have been killed with that sort of mental overload and he hadn’t even thought to warn her!

Her fists clenched involuntarily and she turned the shower off with a snap of the wrist. Drying quickly she grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, dressed and grabbed the recording of her adventure from the computer on her way out the door. He’d mentioned in passing where he lived when they’d met, and Fiona had a good memory for details like that. It took her a few minutes of hunting to find the right building and shortly after she was pressing the bell on flat 107.

Steve was in a bad mood before he opened the door, having only got two hours sleep the night before after recovering a system crash for a group he contracted support services to. His mood wasn’t improved any when a fist struck him square across the jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. Fiona dove through the door, straddling his waist as she took another swing at his face, this one blocked with his right arm, as she screamed “You bastard!” over and over again.

Confused and hurt Steve decided it was probably better to get on top of the situation before anyone, especially him, got hurt. Fiona was sitting on his stomach, leaving his hips free to move, and he flexed his legs, rocking them up so they pointed at the ceiling. He slipped his thighs under her arms and rocked his body forward, pushing Fiona down to the ground. As soon as her body was off his he rolled away and stood up, holding one hand up to his jaw and the bruise that was already beginning to form there. Fiona bounced back to her feet and launched herself at him again, her body seeming to crumple in midair.

She landed against him hard, not trying to knock him down, rather collapsing against him as she buried her face into his shoulder and let out a sob that almost broke his heart. Confused as hell, but faced with a problem he could deal with, Steve wrapped his arms around her and held her close, not saying anything but letting whatever was driving her burn itself out. Slowly he guided her into the living room and onto the sofa, keeping her wrapped in his arms the whole time, providing whatever support he could, content to wait until she was ready to talk, however long that took.

[BOFH666]

Eventually Fiona cried herself out and lay silent against Steve’s shoulder. Gently he lifted her up slightly and eased her back against the sofa.

“Now, what’s wrong, and does it have anything to do with why you want to hurt me?” he asked.

She hesitated before replying, suddenly aware of just how silly she was going to sound. “You, you programmed that, that thing into the sim and it wasn’t what I wanted, it was too much I couldn’t take it, just too much and…”

“Shhh, slow down lass, one sentence at a time and remember to breathe, it’ll help.” Steve said, doing his best to keep her calm. “About the only bit of that I caught was about something being programmed you didn’t want?”

“Yes, that man, what he did to me, to her…it was…” Fiona trailed off, her mind threatening to shut down as the events of the previous night tried to rush back.

“Ummm, I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I never put anyone, or anything in that sim other than what you asked for. Just you and Nicole, that was it.” he said, confusion clear on his face.

Fiona felt her anger spark again, grabbed the memory stick from her jeans and thrust it at him. “Here, take a look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” she snapped. Steve reached out and took the recording, turning it between his fingers with an action so well practiced it was practically reflex.

“Okay, give me a few minutes to look at this, feel free to make yourself at home.” Steve said, heading for the door.

Fiona heard the door to what she assumed was the bedroom shut and the faint whine of a computer coming on-line. She found herself restless and started looking around the room. It was a pretty normal living room by most standards, a large plasma screen dominating one wall, flat speakers hung next to it, with a matching set on the back wall. A large bay window gave a view of the small, neat garden and bookshelves and cupboards dominated the rest of the wall space.

She walked over to the shelves and started flicking through the movies and books noticing they were stored in a seemingly random order. The movies where what she’d have expected for the most part, sci-fi and action flicks, with the occasional deeper, thought provoking film mixed in, although she realised that, somewhat to her surprise, they were all normal films, not VR titles. She would have expected it to be the other way round, considering what their owner did for a living.

The books were more of a puzzle, there was seemingly no pattern at all to them, and they covered a vast variety of subjects, from military vehicles and combat tactics, through music and art, to the sciences of physics, mathematics and what seemed like every computer discipline under the sun. All of them were well used, and had that familiar half-worn look that suggested they were used as reference books for the majority of their life.

Her eye was drawn to a small set of shelves at the back of the room. Unlike all the others this one had a glass door, though there was no lock to prevent curious visitors prying into its contents. Inside there was an eclectic collection of objects, several books lay on the bottom shelf, the middle two were taken up by a couple of photographs in frames and the top held what looked, for all the world, like a sword.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the cabinet and carefully removed the sword from it’s stand. It was what she thought of as a Samurai sword, long, thin and gently curved, the handle bone white and a small round guard between the handle and the blade. It was surprisingly light and the balance was amazing, almost as if it was simply an extension of her own arm. She pulled the sheath a little way off the blade and saw this was no replica, the edge gleamed as if it could cut through time itself, in fact she half expected it to glow. Moving as quickly as she dared she put the sword back in its place and looked closer at the other items.

The photographs were odd, one of a young woman in her early or mid twenties, dark red hair framing a pretty face that was, in the timeless moment captured by the camera, locked in an expression of pure joy. The other picture was of a sea, perfectly flat without a ripple or wave to be seen. The sky was pitch black and from maybe two thirds of the way from the left edge of the picture a perfectly white bolt of lightning connected the water and the heavens, like the finger of god himself.

She moved her attention to the books and noticed immediately that they all had one thing in common, the author. All were written by a Steve Franklin, she presumed the same Steve that was currently working in the next room. Two were fiction books, written about ten years ago, one a sci-fi story with a picture of spaceships dog fighting in an asteroid field on the front cover, the other was called Bloodhounds, the title written in red on a black background that had been designed to give the impression of fabric caught in a breeze.

The remaining books were more recent, all written within the last five years and dealing with various aspects of VR. A quick check of the titles showed they covered pretty much everything, from security and military applications, all the way through to AI design and graphic modelling. She flicked through a couple, but the concepts involved were way beyond her knowledge and she slid them back into place. Stepping back she shut the door and turned round, before jumping almost out of her skin as she saw Steve standing at the door, watching her intently.

“How long have you been there?” she demanded, angry and embarrassed in equal measure.

“Not long, I just wanted to make sure you saw everything you wanted to before disturbing you. I think you need to see this.” He replied, his usual good humour replaced with an expression of worry. Fiona followed him through into his bedroom, and stopped dead as stepped through the door.

There was a bed and wardrobe at the back of the room, but every other inch of space was dominated by computer equipment. One wall held racks of components and systems in various stages of repair, the other what looked like a cluster of working kit that put the systems she’d seen in work to shame. A desk dominated the remaining wall, flat screen monitors mounted to the wall behind it, four keyboards scattered on the wood in front of them. It looked like a mad scientists wet dream, like you could create any doomsday device you wanted without ever leaving the room, and it was a formidable sight.

Steve was already at work, calling up a set of diagrams on one monitor and a still shot of the mysterious man she’d encountered in her program in another. “Umm, just before I get going on this, how much do you know about VR, how it works I mean?” he asked.

“Not a lot, I kind of know the basics, how the suits work, the usual safety stuff but that’s about it.” Fiona replied, still slightly shocked at the contents of the room.

“Then grab a seat and I’ll try to explain this as best I can. All objects in a VR world have three main parts, doesn’t matter if it’s a character or a plank of wood everything’s built the same way.” As he talked Steve’s hands flew over the keyboard, creating a basic white outline of a person on the screen.

“First there’s appearance, that’s the easiest part to get right, especially if you’ve already got a set of reference images. Provided there’s a complete image of the character from all angles the computer can put together a pretty convincing representation.” On screen the outline became solid, filled in with the image of the man she’d seen. A few more key presses and the image seemed to fade out, becoming almost transparent as she looked at it.

“Under that there’s the physical attributes, in this case things like bone and muscle structure and their basic physical properties, how they interact with each other, their density and composition, that sort of thing. These days that’s pretty simple, at least for standard images like people, as there’s a huge library of examples to borrow from.” The image changed, adding the internal structure of the man over his physical appearance, then that too faded.

“And finally we have the real magic, the personality matrix. This is what governs how that character or object will behave, how it will react to other objects in the world, including real people. That’s what takes the time to build, and what separates the good from the bad when it comes to programmers. With me so far?”

“I think so, yes. Though I find it a bit hard to believe that a rock has personality.”

“Believe it, there have been some really weird occasions when someone’s loaded the wrong personality into the wrong object and a bunch of trees tried to do the can-can.” Steve grinned as Fiona burst into giggles next to him, he wasn’t at all convinced she was over what had happened so quickly, especially after reviewing the recording, but at least he could take her mind off it.

“Now when we put it into VR what we end up with is something like this…” he said, manipulating the image, turning it into a simple 3D outline on the screen with three layers of colour across it. “The red layer is the appearance, the blue the physical structure and the green the personality matrix.” He said, pointing out the detail as he did. The red band was a thin layer around the outline of the image, the blue a thicker one underneath it. The green was a tight sphere in the middle of the figure, with two thin white lines reaching out to connect it to the blue layer.

“What’s the white layer?” Fiona asked, her curiosity peeked.

“The white lines show the input/output pathways between the personality and the rest of the object. Think of them as the equivalent of nerves in your own body, carrying data about the outside world, in this case the VR scenario, to the mind and passing the commands back out to act on that stimulus. Of course the mind in this case is the personality matrix, and it’s really only approximating the actions of a human mind, but the idea’s much the same.”

“Hang on, if they’re nerves why are there only two of them, I mean, there’s thousands of them in our bodies, right?”

“Ah, there you hit on the real problem with VR. You see, running these scenarios takes a huge amount of processing power, even generating the graphics on a flat screen like these would have been beyond most computers ten years ago. Now we’ve got a lot more power to play with, but at the end of the day it’s still limited in what it can do. See the more data you feed to a decision making process, which is effectively what the personality matrix is, the more processing power you need to process it. In fact it’s exponential, double the data and you’ve got to quadruple the power.”

Steve paused for a moment before continuing. “Basically, all computer design is a trade off between what you want and what you can get. In VR the compromise was in creating believable characters who seemed to genuinely interact with the user and realistic environments to fool the brain into believing it’s actually in a different place than it was a few seconds ago. This was the solution they came up with, and it works pretty well. There’s enough of a data pathway there for an object to pull in as much information as you do through any two of your senses. The trick is it’s a switched system.”

“Okay, now you lost me.”

“Think of it as a two way, one lane road okay? Traffic can move along it in both directions, but only one vehicle at a time. If you’ve got two cars wanting to use it at one time in different directions one of them has to wait until the other has gone through. It lets an object respond quickly enough to fool the user into believing their acting spontaneously, and get enough data to make sure that response is appropriate, without needing ridiculous levels of processing power to do the job.”

“Now, let’s break down your mystery man shall we?” He hit a few keys and the still shot of the man blurred, turning into the same basic 3D shape as shown on the other monitor and Fiona gasped. The red and blue layers were the same, though slightly thicker on this version. The green layer was almost five times as large as that on the original display, almost touching the inner edge of the blue band. But that wasn’t what had caught her attention, overlaid across all this was a mass of white lines, like lightning frozen inside a storm cloud, more connections than she could possible count.

“Now that, ” Steve said, voice low and hushed “is not your standard VR character.”

“What is it?” She asked, her own voice wavering as she tried to understand what she was seeing.

“Honest answer? I don’t know. It’s not human, we don’t show up the same way in VR, at least not to the system itself. It could be a program, but there’s two problems with that. One, the time and effort needed to create that size personality matrix would be almost inconceivable. Two, there’s no computer on earth that could process that amount of data in real time. Now either of those problems pretty much rules out the option of it being a program, which doesn’t leave a whole hell of a lot of options.”

“So what do we do now? I mean, this…whatever it is, came into my sim, my system and tortured me half to death. I’m not exactly in love with the idea of meeting it again, you know?”

“Okay, I think the first thing you’re going to do is to get some proper rest, you look exhausted lass. I’m going to make a few calls, see what I can find out about your system, who could have accessed it, how they could have got in, that sort of thing. Then tonight we’re going to make a call to the market and see what we can find.”

“The market? What’s that?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s the kind of simple, doom-ridden name the geeks of today like to use to give their activities that little hint of danger. Don’t worry about it, it’s just a meeting place for the less reputable members of the computing world, pretty much the most dangerous thing there is exposing that many geeks to someone as beautiful as you at the same time. Hell, it might help cut down the computer crime rate if some of them realise there’s a life outside of VR.”

Fiona smiled and half turned to hide her blush. The comment had been made off-hand, but she had to admit, hearing this man refer to her as beautiful was not entirely a bad thing. Steve showed her to the guest bedroom and made sure she knew where everything was before leaving her alone. She looked around the non-descript room, surprised at the contrast between this and Steve’s bedroom. She flushed again as she found her thoughts lingering once more on the bed part of that sentence and laid herself down on the single bed. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

The day passed and as twilight fell on the city Steve led Fiona into the car park in front of his flat. She was somewhat surprised when they passed the row of flashy sports cars, past the gleaming ranks of metal and the polished Porsche and Ferrari badges into what seemed like the more mundane part of the car park. Steve pressed a button on a remote and the hazard lights flashed twice on a black coupe, sleek while at the same time having an undoubted sense of sturdiness and practicality to it. Steve noticed the look she was giving him and turned with a half smile on his face. “Not what you expected?”

“Well, umm, no not really. I figured you’d have something like, oh I don’t know, something a bit more…sporty I guess.”

“You mean like one of those overpriced, hard to insure, temperamental pieces of exotica over there?” Steve said, gesturing to the handful of sports cars lined up at the front of the car park. “Sorry, but I like my cars to be a little more reliable than that. Besides, know the right tuning people and you’d be surprised at what you can do with something a little more discrete.”

She opened the passenger seat and dropped down into a black leather seat that seemed to be perfectly sized to her body, holding her tightly without being uncomfortable as she stretched her legs out into the footwell. Steve was already in the drivers seat and after checking she was comfortable fired up the engine and eased them out onto the street, the lazy burble of the engine barely penetrating the cockpit of the car. They drove in silence through the city streets for maybe thirty minutes until he took a right turn into a series of narrow alleyways. A few more twists and turns and they were parked up in a small space just off a crossroads of alleys.

They climbed out and Steve retrieved a long black leather coat that fell almost to his ankles from the boot before locking the car. As they walked away Fiona glanced back and just for a moment saw the car ripple and then seemingly fade away in front of her eyes. “What the hell?” she said, the surprise evident in her voice.

“Latest toy to come on the market, a flip paint that tries to blend in with the background. It’s still being tested for use on production vehicles but I know one of the people that invented the stuff and she supplied me with some of the first batch. Doesn’t work that well really but it’s pretty good in the dark or against solid backgrounds and it’s cheap enough to be worth doing. I did tell you it wasn’t exactly standard my dear.”

Fiona nodded, once again finding herself re-evaluating the man walking next to her. There were a number of things that just didn’t seem to add up about the guy, and she resolved to keep a close eye on him, just in case this was all some kind of elaborate hoax. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked.

[BOFH666]

“Well, I checked your system and it’s pretty good in terms of security. Not unbreakable but you’d need some pretty specialist tools to break in, and that sort of thing don’t come cheap, or for that matter, easy. If we can find out who’s bought that kind of equipment in the last few weeks, we should be able to at least make a start on tracking whoever did this down. While we’re here I want to run the scan of the man from your sim past a couple of acquaintances, see what they make of it.”

“That’s it? Just ask for that sort of information and these guys will give it you?” she replied, scepticism almost dripping from her voice.

“Not exactly, but I know the right people here, and most of them owe me some pretty big favours, enough so we should be able to get what we need. Oh, and while I remember, would you mind leaving the talking to me? You pick up the theory behind all this stuff pretty damn quick, but the folks in here are pros and they’ll know you’re not legit the first time you try to bluff them. I’ll just introduce you as a client and they’ll let it go.”

“Sure, though if you think it’d be better I could pretend to be something else…” Fiona said, taking a half step to her right as she walked to brush against him suggestively. Steve’s grin was clear enough, even in the blackness of the alleys as he turned towards her.

“Appreciated lass, and believe me I’d love to be seen with you on my arm, even if only for an act. But I’m going to need to concentrate and, well, frankly you’re more than a little distracting at the best of times, start curling up to me and I’m gonna be useless to you, ‘least as an information gatherer.”

Fiona laughed quietly, slipped her arms round him and lent up to kiss him once, quickly, before pulling back. “Then we’d better let you concentrate, at least until we’re somewhere a little more private.” She started walking again and marvelled at her actions, wondering where that impulse had come from. This man was here to do a job for her, that was all, so why was she taking her flirting this far, hell, why was she flirting at all?

She had no time to ponder the question though as Steve turned to face what seemed to be a wall and pressed a small device up against the brickwork. There was a faint buzz, and a section of wall rolled back and out of the way, revealing a narrow metal staircase leading up into the seemingly deserted building. She followed him up the stairs until they emerged in a large open space, big enough to hold a good size concert in if all the obstructions were removed and she looked around in amazement.

The general atmosphere of the place was electric, literally. Everywhere she looked there were people working on computers or other electrical parts, some hooked into VR suits, others working with keyboards and monitors. The floor was divided into irregular rooms, none of which had ceilings and she was reminded of the cubicle farm in her own office building. Here and there winding spiral staircases led to an upper level of offices and storage rooms, a metal grill floor giving an almost prison-like feel to the place.

As they walked through the chaos Steve lent over and whispered to her “This used to be one of the big Microsoft offices in the country until they missed the VR boat and went under. No one wanted to take it over when the street crime went through the roof, so these guys made use of it. Just watch your step if we go upstairs, there have been reports of ‘accidents’ happening when people stepped in the wrong place.” Fiona nodded and sculpted her features into her normal business mask. Steve stopped behind a short man, dressed in black jeans, white shirt and short black jacket who seemed to be on edge as he talked to the young couple in front of him.

“Look, you bought it sold-as-seen, it’s not my fault if you didn’t check which end goes where, okay? No refunds after sale, and sure as hell, no refunds after it’s been used, especially on that sort of accessory. Now get lost before I call security.” The couple seemed about to argue before they caught sight of Steve standing behind the salesman with a look on his face that made it very clear their problem, whatever it was, had just been bumped downwards in terms of priority.

The seller suddenly seemed to sense someone was behind him and spun around, finding himself on an eye-line with Steve’s chin as a hand wrapped around his in a manner that, to an observer would seem casual, even friendly, but was in fact a pretty much unbreakable grip. “Hello Nick, long time no see.” Steve growled quietly, all trace of his previous easygoing manner wiped from his face.

“Steve, now look, I heard what happened with those memory chips man, and I swear it wasn’t my fault, I was assured they were good. My guy managed to get lots mixed up and sent you a returned shipment by mistake, if I’d known earlier….”

“Nick, don’t bother, I’ve heard it before and I rather suspect a lot of other people have as well. Besides, don’t worry about it, I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Hell no, in fact I thought you might need some persuading so I even did you a little favour to prove there’s no hard feelings.”

“Favour? Really?”

“Yeah, I did your book keeping for you, and good news man, it all balanced out, at least after I’d deducted the refund you owed me, oh, and the usual 50% inconvenience fee of course. No, no need to thank me, just thought I’d save you the time and trouble. After all I know you’re a busy man and, hey, time costs money right? And believe me…” Steve jerked his grip, causing a jolt of pain to go through Nick’s shoulder as he yanked him close “… you couldn’t afford that much trouble.”

“Right, you’re right, thanks man, it’s appreciated” Nick babbled, trying to pull his hand back from Steve’s grip without much success.

“I’m here on business Nick, and I think you can help me out, providing of course I can trust you to deliver this time?” Steve asked, releasing Nick’s hand without warning as he yanked backwards, almost causing the shorter man to fall over from his own movement.

“Of course, whatever you want man, and as a gesture of good faith, whatever it is, you can have it at cost.”

“Good, it’s not a big job anyway so it shouldn’t take you long. I need to know who’s been buying this equipment.” Steve said, passing over a printout of several part numbers.

“Hmm, this stuff ain’t gonna come cheap, and it’s going to take a while to pull it all together. Figure five thousand and about a week, and that’s only because of our special relationship.”

“Come on Nick, who do you think I am, a newbie punter building their first VR rig? Try five hundred and ten minutes and you’ve got a deal, anymore than that and I might as well go find it myself.”

“Alright, alright, tell you what, seven fifty and thirty minutes, how’s that?”

”Make it fifteen minutes and we’ll call it a thousand, deal?”

“Deal, where do you want it delivered?”

“To me, in my hand, in fourteen minutes and fifty five seconds or you’ll be looking for your fingers, or isn’t that clear enough?”

“Right, right, I’m on it, no problem.” Nick said, turning and hurrying to a free terminal to start the data search. Steve waited a moment then turned away and started walking towards a large cubicle at the back of the room, Fiona close behind him. She was once again trying to work out exactly who she was dealing with, the attitude change had been so complete it was like watching a stranger and that scared her. After all, how could she be sure which was the real man, and which was the act?

Reaching the door to the cubicle Steve tapped on the small metal plate attached the fabric with a knuckle and waited. A few seconds later a man who was almost Steve’s mirror image walked out, took one look at him and stopped dead.

“Steve, haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?” the man asked, obviously wary.

“Good man, look can we talk, I’ve got something here that might interest you.”

“Yeah of course, come on in.”

They followed him into a workshop that looked like an explosion in an electronics factory. Steve cleared a couple of chairs for himself and Fiona and sat down.

“So, what have you got for me?” the man asked, eyes flicking from Steve to Fiona and back again.

“Two things. First the good news, I got him Tim.” Steve said, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his jacket and passing it over. As the man unfolded it Fiona caught the words ‘arrest record’ on the top of the paper, then the man was looking at Steve with a huge smile.

“You’re serious, you managed to nail this bastard?”

“Right to the wall, by the time he gets out of jail we’ll have been conquered by aliens my friend. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“Hey, that’s alright, I mean, well, thanks man, I never thought I’d see this scumbag get what’s coming to him, it means a lot you know?”

Steve caught a glimpse of Fiona’s confused look and raised an eyebrow at Tim, nodding slightly in her direction. Tim hesitated for a moment then nodded. “Tim, this is Fiona, a client of mine. I’m trying to figure out who managed to break into her system and thought you might be able to help me out.”

“Fiona, this is Tim, a mate of mine from way back. Used to work together for a while doing bits and pieces for different clients. This bastard,” here he indicated the picture on the arrest record “framed Tim for causing an explosion at a company we were contracting for, cover for a robbery attempt. Only problem was there was a group of researchers working late, they, well, they didn’t make it. Tim went into hiding and we’ve been trying to track this guy down ever since. Finally managed to pull together enough evidence to set the police on him and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“A history that will, if there’s any justice in this universe, involve a long and intimate relationship with the inmates of the hairy serial killers wing of the nastiest prison in the country.” Tim joined in, passing a bottle of beer to Fiona and a coke to Steve to let them toast the occasion. “That’s one guy who deserves everything he gets. Hey, you said you had something else for me?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you could take a look at something weird that turned up yesterday, I can’t figure it out and you’ve always been better than me at the matrix side.”

“True, okay, you got a copy handy?”

Steve passed over a memory stick with the scan of Fiona’s intruder and waited while Tim popped it into his computer. As the image came up on screen Tim whistled “What the hell? You sure this isn’t a corrupt image?”

“Positive, I pulled it from the original recording myself, it’s genuine. Any ideas what we’re looking at here?”

Tim paused, leaning back in his seat, fingers pressed together in front of his lips. “You know what this reminds me of? Remember that natural AI program we worked on a while back? This would match the core of that almost perfectly, least in terms of size if not in the pathways.”

“Yeah, the thought did occur, but I don’t see anything particularly unique here, if this was a super AI matrix of some sort, they’d have hit the same scaling problems we did. Besides, you’d need more power than I’ve ever seen in one place to run something like that, and this was on an isolated home machine, not a super computer in a lab.”

“Wait, where did you find this?”

“It turned up in a scenario I wrote, and I guarantee it’s nothing I put in there. I even checked the source file, it ain’t on there.”

“So where the hell did it come from? You sure that’s an isolated machine?” Tim asked, turning to Fiona now.

“Yes, I’m sure, I’ve got another machine for all my internet stuff, the VR box isn’t even connected to a home network, let alone the outside world.”

“Interesting. Steve, if I didn’t know better I’d swear this was a program, but short of a quantum computer…”

“Which no-one’s invented as far as we know and if it had been done it’d be all over the planet by now.” Steve interjected.

“… I don’t know how you’d do something like this. Hey, wait a minute, have a look at this…” Tim said, zooming the image on the boundary between the red and blue layers of appearance and physical aspects. Between the two, frozen in the image but clearly visible, was a thin layer of green, a separate matrix than the one at the core and between the three layers was another set of white ‘nerves’.

“What the… am I am completely off-base here or is there no way that should work?” Steve asked, staring at the image as if mesmerised.

“The system should just throw it out, unless, hmm, unless it’s being hidden as something else, maybe a new physical attribute something like that?” Tim said, equally fascinated by what was on the screen. “Either way, this is some major code Steve, whatever this is I wouldn’t go messing with it lightly.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I’ve got a lot of choice in the matter. Don’t worry though, we’ll go loaded for bear.”

“Good call, look can you leave this with me for a while, I want to do a deeper analysis on it if I can, see what other nasty little surprises this thing has up it’s digital sleeves.”

Steve looked across at Fiona. “It’s up to you lass, the entire recording’s on their but if you don’t want to let it out we can find another way of getting a closer look at this thing.”

She paused for a moment, torn between her own embarrassment at what she knew was on that recording and a burning desire to find out what had done this to her. It really wasn’t much of a contest. “Okay, you trust this guy, then so do I. Just don’t copy it to the net or anything.”

“It doesn’t exist.” Tim promised, pocketing the stick. “Hey, you waiting for Nick?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He seems to be heading this way, and I thought he knew better than to get within ten feet of me.”

“Don’t worry, this won’t take long, just a data lookup and as much as I hate to admit, that slimeball’s much better at that sort of thing than either of us.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing what knowing half the crooked programmers this side of the Baltic Sea will get you when you’re in a rush.” Tim muttered under his breath, prompting a grin from Steve as he looked round at the approaching data cracker. Without a word he held out a credit chip in his left hand, the right extended to receive the data file Nick was offering. As Nick went to pull the credit chip away Steve tightened his grip and looked long and hard at the shorter man.

“Hey, look, it’s all there, every sale of every item on that list. Come on man, you know I wouldn’t be stupid enough not to do this properly right?”

“I hope so, for your sake. You’re on your very last chance as far as I’m concerned Nick, pray you never loose that chance.” Steve growled, releasing the credit chip and turning back to the other two people in the cubicle. Nick muttered something under his breath that none of them could quite catch, then turned and started walking back to his terminal. He hadn’t got more than ten steps when the whole place went straight to hell.

An explosion ripped up the staircase into the room, scorching the ceiling and setting the nearest equipment on fire. Immediately behind it came the sound of running feet, then a hail of gunfire ripped through the air as figures dressed in grey boiler suits charged up the still hot stairs into the room.

“Down!” Steve barked, throwing himself against Fiona and carrying her behind the partition wall as Tim hit the ground beside them. “You carrying?” He yelled over the noise to Tim, and got his answer as a short, black metal automatic weapon was pulled from underneath the desk.

“Any bright ideas on how the hell we get out of here?” Tim yelled, scrabbling around in a drawer for a couple of spare ammo clips.

“You mean aside from shooting our way through what looks like thirty or more bad guys with one gun between three of us down a single file staircase into a small street that’s probably a kill zone by now?” Steve yelled back, eyes scanning the room for inspiration.

“Aside from that, yes.” came the somewhat testy reply.

Steve’s eyes landed on the window about ten feet away. “This place still got a fire escape running round the outside?”

“Yeah, I think so, provided no-one’s ripped it apart for scrap metal yet.”

“Great, then I think we’ve got a plan.” Steve crawled forward, pulled one of the chairs towards him and grabbed a case of computer parts from the floor. Digging through the clutter he started dropping the heaviest items he could reach into it. After a few seconds the case was full and he shut the lid, using a long power cable to secure it to the chair.

“Okay, here’s what we do. Give me some covering fire, I’m gonna heave this through that window then we execute the all purpose contingency plan.”

“You mean we run for it?”

“Exactly. Unless you’ve got a better idea of course.”

“Sadly, no. Okay, on three you go and we’ll be right behind you. Dive behind that last partition, then we’ll go from there to the window when we’re all together. One, two, THREE!”

Steve bounced to his feet and ran, half carrying and half leaning the chair on his shoulder towards the large floor to ceiling windows. Behind him the staccato retort of Tim’s weapon rang out, forcing the intruders to keep their heads down for the few vital seconds he needed. As soon as he was within range Steve pitched the chair with all the force he could muster at the window and, as he dived for cover again heard the shattering of glass that was one of the most comforting sounds he’d ever heard. Landing hard on his right side, he turned over to look back the way he’d come, just in time for Fiona to land practically on top of him as she dived to safety, Tim close on her heels.

[BOFH666]

“Well, that seemed to work well.” Tim said, swapping out clips on his gun as he talked. “We’ve got a nice big hole, we’re only a floor up and no-one’s come in through the hole, which suggests they’re being dumb and focusing everything they’ve got on the front entrance to this place.” He stuck his head out for a second and yanked it back in just ahead of a few well aimed rounds. “We also seem to be attracting attention, I think it’s time to go.”

“Agreed, on three folks.” Steve said as they all got their feet under them for the last dash. “One, ” there was a strange metallic clinking noise and Steve looked down to see what looked very much like a grenade hitting the ground and rolling under a desk. “Fuck it, run for your life!”.

They took off and within two seconds they were all lying on the metal of the fire escape, Tim landing just as the grenade exploded behind them. The flying glass from the window passed harmlessly over their heads and they scrambled back to their feet.

“Okay, time for you guys to bail.” Tim yelled, sending a burst of fire back through the hole. “I’ll give you a head start then catch up”.

Steve’s gut churned at the thought of leaving anyone behind, but he knew the logic behind that order, he had someone to take care of and was unarmed, it was indeed time to leave. “Okay, but no heroics man, give us a few seconds then get gone.”

“Fine, fine, just go would you?” Tim replied sending another burst into the building.

With a last look back, Steve pushed Fiona ahead of him along the metal catwalk and down the spiral staircase to the street. They raced along the alleyways, heading for the car, only to hear the sound of a motorbike engine revving close behind them. Steve shoved Fiona into a doorway, pushing her down before matching his body to hers and covering them both with his coat. The bike engine grew louder, then roared past and continued into the distance. After a few seconds Steve stood up and helped Fiona back to her feet. As they ran she panted out a question. “How did that guy not see us?”

“The coat’s painted in the same stuff as the car, blends in with the background. Get below someone’s eye line and they can go right past without noticing.” Steve replied, reaching into a pocket for the remote control. They raced round the next corner and he hit the button. The car seemed to appear from the shadows, the doors opening on their own to let them jump in. Fiona barely had time to hit the seat before They we’re pulling away, the doors swinging shut on their own.

They raced down the alley, hanging a tight right at the end and bursting out onto the main street. As they hurtled down the road she wondered if they’d got back in the same car. The engine, so quiet before, was howling like a formula one car, every corner was taken as if the car was glued to the ground and the lights outside were becoming awfully blurred. Suddenly she realised she could hear another noise over the engine’s scream and she glanced down at the passenger side mirror. There, barely feet from the rear bumper were three green and yellow cars, slightly smaller than theirs but all emitting the same sort of banshee howl.

“Great, just great” Steve muttered, dropping down a cog on the six speed gearbox and concentrating on avoiding the more solid parts of the scenery. “Why couldn’t they have had those things in the shop tonight?”

“Who are they?” Fiona yelled over the noise.

“Same lot that burst into the Market, street gang, call ‘emselves the Daredevils. Don’t know what they want, and frankly I’d rather not find out so let’s see how well they know these streets.”

With that Steve hit a button on his steering wheel, leant over and flicked a set of toggle switches down. There was a low powered hum and a small video screen lit up in the middle of the dashboard, showing the view from the back bumper in a wide angle shot that covered the whole street. A small red light lit up above it marked GPS. “What’s that mean?” Fiona yelled, as she hung on for grim death as Steve threw the car around a small roundabout on what she’d swear had been a physically impossible line.

“GPS jammer. I know this part of town, but it’s a good way from their usual turf. Only way they can keep up with us like this is to be using a GPS signal and mapping software. This scrambles the signal, makes it useless within about twenty feet of the car, should give us an edge. Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment I’ve got some work to do.”

So saying Steve turned the car almost on it’s side making a ninety-degree right hander onto a road running alongside the river. The traffic was thicker here and he had to keep dodging in and out of oncoming traffic to stay ahead of the three cars that seemed to following his every move. A major junction loomed ahead, a crossroads leading either left back into the heart of the city or right over the bridge to the industrial part of the city. Steve set the car up and started a long, sweeping right hander, determined to carry as much speed as possible into the turn. The cars behind started to follow, and as soon as he saw they were all committed to the turn he pulled the handbrake up.

The backend of the car slid round and he got back on the power, tightening the turn to an impossible degree, turning it into an almost tear dropped shape about face. Two of the other cars managed to duplicate the manoeuvre, albeit further onto the bridge. The other couldn’t quite manage it and lost the back completely, spinning at high speed into the side of the bridge before bouncing back out into the middle of the road, his left side stove in and the car un-drivable as Steve headed back into the city.

Foot flat to the floor they raced up the three-lane carriageway, moving from left to right trying to deny the pursuing cars any chance to overtake. Steve glanced in his rear view mirror and Fiona saw a smile tug the corners of his mouth. He started moving left, then darted back to the right, allowing a blur of motion to pass in the gap on the left. The blur slowed slightly and pulled alongside Fiona’s door, becoming recognisable as a figure on a motorbike, the engine screaming at the very top of it’s rev range as the rider looked in through her window. She thought she recognised Tim’s face beneath the visor, then the bike pulled away and started to harass the car on the left, the rider pulling a small pistol from a holster on the bike and firing, somewhat inaccurately, at the car behind him. He eased the bike over to the left and the car, it’s driver enraged by the nerve of this bike riding lunatic, followed him. A second later both bike and car were gone as the left lane became a motorway sliproad, leaving a straight one on one battle behind them.

“Alright, let’s see exactly how brave he is.” Steve muttered, setting the noise of the car straight ahead and backing off the throttle slightly. The other car pulled alongside, then dropped back slightly as Steve pushed his own throttle to the floor. Fiona could do nothing other than look straight ahead, at the distant glow of lights that indicated a busy crossroads that was coming rapidly closer.

“Hang on” Steve said, reaching for a pair of red buttons mounted on the steering wheel. Mashing them down there was what sounded like a small explosion behind them and the car leapt forward as two bottles of Nitrous Oxide were dumped into the fuel system, four foot long flames shooting from the exhaust. A second later there was a matching road from behind them as the other car brought it’s nitrous into play.

Touching one hundred and ninety miles an hour they raced towards the crossroads, neither driver willing to flinch. Fiona closed her eyes, there was no way they could make it through that traffic safely, and she didn’t really want to see the car that would kill her before it hit the door panel. Both drivers were staring straight ahead, locked on the obstacle, neither moving an inch. Until Steve reached down and, in one lightning fast motion, yanked the handbrake up while wrenching the steering wheel to the left.

The car swapped ends and was suddenly heading backwards towards the junction as Steve buried the throttle to the carpet. The smell of burning clutch and rubber permeated the air as the car screeched in protest at trying to drive tyres that were now travelling backwards at over a hundred and fifty miles an hour in the opposite direction. There was an earth shattering crash from behind them as the other car pilled into the junction and was collected by a monstrous 18-wheeler truck, but it was almost obscured by the shriek of tyres and engine as they worked to overcome the laws of physics. With a jolt the car came to a stop, the back bumper parked neatly on the white line of the junction box for a moment before Steve headed off down a side street at a more normal pace.

Fiona opened her eyes and looked about in confusion. “Umm, not that I’m complaining, but shouldn’t we be sitting on a cloud having harp lessons about now?” she asked, her voice trembling as the excess adrenaline of the last few minutes got dumped through her system.

“I’m more of a guitar man myself.” Steve replied, trying to ignore the demands his own body was making to pull over and throw up. “Besides, I look awful in white.”

Fiona laughed at that, the sort of laugh that isn’t really about humour, more a release of tension, a way of reassuring yourself that everything’s all right, that you’re still alive. The laughter dissolved into giggles, and that was about all she could do for the next few minutes as Steve concentrated on putting as many turns as possible between themselves and any possible pursuit. Eventually she laughed herself out and they travelled back to his house in silence. Once there they collapsed onto the sofa and stayed there for a good ten minutes just staring at the wall, each lost in their own thoughts.

It was Steve who finally broke the silence. “Well lass, I don’t know about you, but I think it might be a good idea to keep moving. I don’t know if you can sleep, but I sure as hell can’t.”

“No, no I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. Any ideas on where we go from here?”

“Yeah, I want to see if we can spot anything out of the ordinary in that recording now that we’ve got a better idea what to look for. You up for that?”

“Umm, what does that involve exactly?”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll go in as observers and just watch what happens. We’ll skip the first part when everything’s going normally and start with the appearance of that man. We’ll be able to manipulate the program but none of the characters in it will be able to see or hear us. And, umm, I guess I should have mentioned this earlier, I took the liberty of distorting your image in the recording, you know like the do on the police reality shows? I didn’t think you’d want people seeing you like, well, in that compromising a position.”

Fiona stared at him for a moment, wondering again what she was getting in to. One moment he was dodging bullets and intimidating low-life thugs, the next he was doing something like this to preserve her modesty, she didn’t know how to read him at all and she had to admit there was nothing like a mystery to make her attracted to a man. She settled for a quick nod: “Okay, let’s do it.”
Part 5

They got changed into VR suits and Steve loaded the recording of Fiona’s previous adventure into the system.

“You’re sure about this?” Steve asked, concern evident on his face “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to, I can do this on my own if…”

“No.” she interrupted immediately “I want to, I, well, actually, to tell the truth, I think I need to.”

Steve paused for a moment, still debating about whether or not to flat out refuse to let her do this, but he knew that in the end there really was only one person who could make that choice. “Okay, but if you want to end the sim just say, alright?”

Fiona nodded, her mind already focused on what she was about to do as Steve continued. “When we’re in there we’ll be spectators. What happened can’t be changed but we can pause and manipulate that recording however we want. If you see anything unusual, anything you missed the first time round, yell. Other than that, just relax and go with the flow.” He waited until she nodded at him, a curt bob of the head, impatient to get inside the virtual world that had started this whole thing. With a quick motion Steve hit the commit button and the world around them slowly melted away, replaced with the dungeon setting from the recording.

As Fiona looked around she found herself almost face to face with herself. Her digital image was standing in a combat position, still clad in the white silk outfit as she faced her black-clad opponent. Over to her right Fiona saw Steve walking around the frozen scene, seemingly taking in every detail as his gaze flicked rapidly between the two figures.

“Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary.” He said, completing his circuit. “Everything seems to be where it is and there’s no obvious signs of any tampering. Let’s run this forward a bit, I want to get a good look at your mystery man.”

As she watched the scene jumped to life, Fiona watching herself walk up to the frozen figure of Nicole, reaching out a hand and flying backwards into the wall, the chains wrapping around her to hold her firmly in place. The shadows seemed to come to life and the man appeared as before, pausing for only a second before sending Nicole flying back onto the wheel. The man raised a hand, and Steve stepped forward, pausing the scene before either of the two women was disrobed. Fiona felt herself flush, wondering for an instant why she almost whished he’d let the scene play on a little.

Steve walked up to the intruder and started a very slow circle around him, once again giving the impression of seeing much, much more than was visible on the surface. As he got about half way round, he started a running commentary, more for the benefit of the recorders than her she knew, but it was still a welcome link to normality in this frozen world.

”Hmm, on the surface it seems to be a normal VR construct, nothing special at all other than the manner of its arrival. Looking at the attribute layer, wait that can’t be right. Both attribute and matrix layers look normal, nothing like what was seen earlier. But that would imply that something had changed since the last scan of this file was made, which isn’t possible as the file’s been locked away from any access. Note, check for any research on exploits that can devolve once executed.”

As he completed his circuit Steve turned to Fiona. “Okay, something very odd is going on here. I took the scan of this thing myself yesterday and it was, well, just as I showed you. But looking at it now, in here, it looks like any normal program. Which shouldn’t be possible as this is the first time this particular code has been run since that scan was made, and this particular recording can only be viewed, not altered.”

“So where does that leave us exactly?” Fiona asked her curiosity peaked.

“Back at square one without any idea where square two is lass. I…” Steve broke off as a faint ring echoed through the room, as if someone had just dropped a pin into a metal cup. “Did you do that?” her asked.

“No, I thought you did.”

”Unfortunately not, which means there’s someone else in here with us.” Steve moved forward cautiously until he was alongside the frozen figure of the man. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He turned back towards Fiona and was about to ask if she could see anything when it hit him. The man’s hand had been raised to make the hand gesture that would remove Nicole’s dignity, but now it was down by his side, the fingers curled into a fist.

The blow hit Steve hard enough to knock him off his feet and send him flying backwards into the corner of a wooden x-frame. Fiona ran over, reached down and pulled him up to his feet again as they turned to look at the impossible. There, in the middle of this frozen world, her mystery man was coming to life, taking a slow but smooth step forward and looking around as if seeing the world for the first time. His eyes locked on Fiona’s and he took a step forward. She gasped and shrank back, though she didn’t move so much as an inch away from the advancing figure. Steve, holding his ribs where he’d hit the frame, stepped in between the two breaking the man’s eye contact. There was a pause, and the very air itself seemed to crackle, then the man smiled slightly and gestured to either side.

With a clatter of chains the two chained women were freed from their bonds, both moving hesitantly at first then with more confidence as they made their way to flank the man. He tilted his head forward and the women started to advance towards the two humans. On a hunch Steve took a couple of steps to his right, and both women turned to follow him. Reaching out with his mind Steve tried to trigger the escape sequence to end the scenario, but it simply wasn’t there, as if someone had erased it. Fiona and Steve retreated towards the wall as the women stalked them, the man following close behind.

“I think we may have a problem here.” Steve said, racking his brain to think of a way out of the predicament they found themselves in.

“No, really, I wouldn’t have guessed.” Fiona replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “How about hitting the exit button and getting us the hell out of here?”

“Great idea, unfortunately the exit button seems to be out of order.”

“You want to try that again?” Fiona demanded, an edge of panic creeping into her voice.

“I’m trying to get us out of here, but whatever that thing is,” Steve indicated the man who was watching the pair of them with interest “it seems to be able to influence my link to the system, I can’t get at any of the interfaces.”

“So we’re trapped?”

[BOFH666]

“Not quite, see that light over there?” Steve pointed in the direction of the only electric light in the room, a small, round cover over a dim bulb positioned on the far wall about six foot off the ground. “That’s a hard wired exit point, I always put them in everything I write just in case of any problems. All we’ve got to do is punch that and we’re out of here.”

“Wonderful, any idea how we’re going to reach it?”

“Well, as these two seem to be locked on to me, I’ll go left and try and pull them off, you go right and hit that light.”

“Sounds like a plan, when do we split?”

“How about right now?” Steve said, darting off to his left and seeing the blur of motion from the corner of his eye that indicated the two women were chasing him. He heard Fiona scramble right, heading round the wall towards the exit button, but he didn’t have much time to worry about her now, he had problems of his own. The pounding of feet seemed to be getting closer alarmingly quickly and he turned on his heel to face his attackers, only to be rewarded with a stiff kick to his already injured ribs, followed by another to his chest which knocked him down to a hard landing on the floor.

Fiona heard the thud of a body hitting the ground but didn’t have time to look back. Her target was only a few feet away, just a second or two more and they’d be out of this nightmare. She reached out with her right hand, stretching for the light. Suddenly a force grabbed her and yanked her back, flipping her in midair so she landed face down on the stone floor, the impact driving the air from her lungs as she could do nothing but lay still for a moment. As her strength returned she forced herself back upright, expecting to have to fight for her life any moment. But the man was just standing in front of her, maybe five feet away between her and the light, watching her intently. For a timeless instant she felt their eyes lock and she fell, drawn into their depths like a moth to a flame. She lost all sense of her body, her personality, her soul as the world faded around her.

Then everything rushed back as a new sensation raced through her body. She looked down in horror and saw her clothes move, seemingly of their own volition. They undulated over her body like a tide, as the smooth, soft cotton shifted into something rough and course, like a thousand miniature paintbrushes had been sewn into the lining. There was no warning and the ticklish sensations overwhelmed her, laughter pouring uncontrollably from her mouth as she sank to her knees, eyes wide with shock at what was happening.

Steve shock his head to try and clear the ringing in his ears and looked up just in time to see and hear Fiona fall, her laughter ripping through the room like a buzz saw. He tried to move forward, scrambling towards her on his hands and knees, only to be met by a boot to the jaw that had him seeing stars. Slumping to the left he rolled over to his back, flexed his legs and kicked up, using the momentum to flip his body back to a vertical base, the landing a little more wobbly than he would have preferred. Taking a quick breath he turned smoothly, right foot extended, arms in a guard position towards his attackers. A part of his mind was still struggling to deal with the reality of seeing two Fiona’s in front of him, one calm, poised and trying to beat him seemingly to death, the other on her knees in ticklish agony. But he’d spent far too long in VR to be thrown by something like that for long, and he forced the confusion away, concentrating on what had to be done.

Nicole made the first move, coming at him fast and low, legs snaking out to trip him over, hands and arms looking to strike at his knees. Resisting the temptation to perform the obvious counter and jump out of the way, he moved towards her, throwing in a step to his left after she was committed to the move, locking her right arm off and twisting round. He didn’t have the leverage or the time to do any real damage, but it was enough to pull the muscle and ensure that she wouldn’t have a full range of motion in that arm for a while.

From his right Fiona dove in, fast and hard at waist height to tackle him to the ground. Off balance he shifted awkwardly, just enough to avoid the body check, and tripped her trailing leg with his right, sending her sprawling. Spinning round he ducked a high kick at his head from Nicole with his right arm, grabbing her foot and forcing her leg up and away, tipping her off balance to the floor. Turning quickly to face Fiona he was surprised to find her a full six foot away by the wall, and he barely had time to recognise the silver line she was spinning from her right hand as the end of a chain before she threw it with perfect accuracy at his head. The chain hit him across the chin and he spun to his knees, blood pouring from the cut the chain had left on his face.

The real Fiona in the meantime was in trouble. The assault on her body was relentless, every time she curled and twisted to move one spot away from the attack, the fabric covering her body would simply target whatever spot was revealed by the motion and resume it’s tickling with ever greater ferocity. In desperation she tried to tear the fabric away from her body, forcing her hands to grip the collar of the shirt and pull, but it was hopeless. The laughter being forced from her had already weakened her, and whatever transformation had been performed on her clothes had seemingly increased it’s strength and durability a hundredfold.

She reached down for the hem of the shirt; if she couldn’t break it maybe she could pull it off. To her horror she found the hem had vanished, the shirt melding somehow with the trousers and everything seemed to have shrunk slightly from their previous loose, flowing shapes to an almost form fitting second skin. As she watched through tear filled eyes, she saw the waves in the cloth increase in speed as they seemed to change pattern, moving from the upwards motion of the previous minutes to a spiral design centred on her stomach and hips. As the waves travelled over her body they would hit a devastating pattern of her most ticklish areas, never lingering long enough to allow her to adapt, never regular enough to predict and always with a slightly less sensitive area in between to allow her body to start relaxing before the next onslaught.

She lay on the ground, curled up helplessly, not even registering she was at the feet of the mystery man until a particularly violent laughing spasm shock her body and she rolled into his foot. Forcing her eyes open she saw him looking down at her, and the expression of casual interest on his face sparked something deep inside her, a rage the likes of which she’d never known. As her body convulsed with a fresh wave of ticklish hysteria her mind stayed in control, forcing the body to use the motion to move a few inches towards the wall, towards the light. Inch by ticklish inch she moved forwards, getting ever closer to her target, her mind refusing to succumb to the torments being loosed on her body. She felt her right hand meet the stone of the wall and slowly turned, forcing herself to get her feet down flat on the floor, until she was in a crouched position directly under the light. She tensed for one last effort, and was almost driven into insanity as what felt like every thread, every stitch of her clothing started to tickle her at once. Her knees buckled and she collapsed against the wall, the light so close she could almost touch it, but without the ability to stand it might as well have been on Mars.

Steve made it to his hands and knees before a boot caught him in the ribs, the crack that echoed through the room proof enough that at least one bone was broken by the impact. A scream was ripped from him and he collapsed to the ground, hand wrapped protectively around his ribcage, only to roll away as the heavy chain was brought down hard across his back, shredding his shirt and leaving a long line of red behind it. Another kick, this one directed at his thigh, thudded home, but there was no snap of bone this time and he rolled with it to the wall. Reaching up he grabbed a manacle that was securely attached to the ceiling and, ignoring the pain in his ribs as best he could, pulled himself upright.

Fiona, or at least this VR version of her, was facing him, an evil smile on her face as she spun the chain around her head before letting it fly at his face. At the last moment Steve brought his hand up and ducked down, the metal hitting the wall harmlessly as his fingers locked around the chain itself. One quick tug brought Fiona within range, her right hand still holding the chain, the arm extended in front of her as Steve spun, aiming a fast, powerful spin kick at the nerve centre just below her armpit. There was a thud as he made contact and she crumpled, half her body temporarily paralysed from the blow. Before either of the women could react Steve had brought the manacle down and clapped it around her unresisting wrist before ducking and rolling out of the way of Nicole’s side kick that would have damn near collapsed his chest cavity if it had connected.

Glancing over he saw Fiona, the real one that is, collapse underneath the light, driven to her knees by the forces playing with her body. In that instant Steve formed a plan born of desperation, knowing that if it didn’t work they were pretty much out of options. Forcing himself to ignore the various cuts and bones wracking his body with pain, he moved as smoothly as he could out into the centre of the room, keeping his back to the man and his victim, relying on the laughter to give him an accurate position for the two of them. Nicole moved forward, her hands and feet flying as Steve concentrated on parrying the blows, wincing slightly as his forearms groaned under the impact, holding his ground and trying to frustrate his attacker, relying on one simple fact: that the personality he’d created for this women was still their and was still calling the shots.

Finally he saw Nicole take a half-step back and he braced himself for what he knew was coming. She darted forward, right hand swinging forward, aimed perfectly for his throat. With timing born of countless hours of practice Steve brought his hand up and caught her wrist, not stopping the blow but moving the momentum, pulling her forward and off balance as he started to fall backwards, bringing his feet up as he did so, planting both soles against her stomach and putting everything he had left in his body into this one effort. As he rolled back he passed all his momentum and energy into Nicole’s body, throwing her at some speed towards the stranger. His attention was occupied with the writhing woman in front of him, and he never saw it coming.

There was a dull thud as the two made contact, followed by the distinctive splat of flesh hitting stone. For an instant the tickling forces being directed against Fiona ceased and an instant was all she needed. Almost exploding from her position against the wall she shot upwards, hand reaching out and covering the light as she rammed her fist against it. There was a pause, then the dungeon simply vanished, leaving the two of them lying on the floor in Steve’s bedroom, their bodies soaked in sweat as they gasped for air.

Quickly they peeled off the gloves, boots and goggles of the VR suits, disconnecting themselves from the computer and moving towards each other almost out of instinct. Their hands touched and they almost melted into each other’s arms, taking comfort from the contact as their bodies shook while their minds accepted what they had just experienced.

Slowly they started to return to normal, their bodies gradually slowing down and relaxing slightly as their senses assured them they were out of danger until they were simply lying on the ground, entwined around each other. Steve was first to react, apologising as he started to move away. Fiona reached across and placed a single finger on his lips, rolled over him, lent down and kissed him with a force that surprised both of them. Steve’s world dissolved, and all he knew was her, her warmth, passion, mind, body and soul.

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains and fell diagonally across the bed, caressing Fiona’s sleeping form and ending just short of the bank of computer equipment that lined one wall. Slumped in a chair on the other side of the room, Steve watched Fiona sleep peacefully as he wondered what on earth he’d been thinking last night. This was one of the most desirable women he’d ever seen, someone who seemed to make everything else in the room dim whenever she walked in, someone he’d dreamt of holding in his arms from the first time he’d seen her. And yet…

His musings were interrupted by a familiar burbling sound from the driveway and he moved out into the hallway, pausing only to pull on a t-shirt as he headed for the front door. Listening carefully he waited until the footsteps reached his front door, added a second or so for his guest to reach up to knock and pulled the door open. Tim was left with one arm raised, tapping at empty air as Steve stepped back to let him in the flat. One look at his face was all Tim needed to know something was up.

“Morning, and by the way, you look like death.” Tim said, putting as much cheer as he could into his voice. “What happened, you two spend all night testing the lifetime warranty on your mattress or what?”

“Oh very funny, keep this up and I’ll start serving you decaf when you pull this I’m-a-morning-person-honest act.”

Tim raised his hands, a look of horror on his face. “No, please, anything but decaf, you win oh evil genius, I’ll behave. Umm, speaking of coffee I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a mug or twelve is there?”

Steve grinned as he felt the familiarity of routine relaxing his body and easing his mind. “Tell you what, I’ll brew up and fill you in on the gossip, then we can go over the seriously weird shit that happened when we’re a bit more awake.”

“Sounds like a plan, lead on McDuff.” Tim said, throwing in a theatrical sweep of his arm in the direction of the kitchen. As usual the coffee machine was already set up and Steve flicked the switch on as they walked past before swinging a leg over a stool at the breakfast bar. Tim followed him, grabbing a cereal bar as he went past an open cupboard, and pulled a stool out for himself, leaning against the wooden surface on his left elbow as he talked.

“So, what happened last night between you and your, ummm, ‘client’?” Tim asked, throwing in a set of finger quotes around client just to annoy his friend.

“Nothing. Well, in the end nothing anyway.” Steve said, replaying the scene in his mind.

“Okay, that made about as much sense as a politician on speed, want to try that again?”

“I’ll give you the details in a bit, but something went seriously wrong with that recording. We had some, let’s say, difficulties getting out of the sim, and when we did the psychological shock was pretty heavy.”

“With you so far.”

“Well, we were lying on the floor and she rolled over and kissed me. One thing lead to another and we ended up in bed.”

“I see no problem here. In fact the first response that springs to mind is ‘you jammy bastard’. So why the long face?”

“This is going to sound stupid, but I think I had a sudden attack of conscience, like I realised she wasn’t doing it because she wanted me, not really anyway. That it was more a physical reaction to what she’d been through and, oh how to put this… I don’t want to take advantage of her like that, no matter how good it may have been.”

“You’re right, that does sound stupid. On the other hand, it also sounds like the sort of moral sensibility I’ve come to expect and, on occasion, despair of from you. She handle it okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly, I think she understood. Didn’t kick my ass at least, so that’s got to be a good sign, right?”

“I’d think so, yes. Hmm, maybe the two of you really are suited to each other after all if you both let your morals get in the way of a night of passion.” Tim said, grinning as he turned and headed for the coffee machine. “Now tell me the bad part, what happened in the sim?”

As Steve started to tell Tim the tale of the previous night’s VR experience, the smell of fresh coffee started to spread through the flat, quickly reaching the bedroom. Fiona twitched as she inhaled the aroma and gradually opened her eyes, looking around the room that, in the golden glow of dawn, looked almost homely. She lay still for a while, reflecting on Steve’s reactions the previous night, the visible struggle as he’d overruled his physical desire and given her the sweetest rejection she’d ever experienced. A frown crossed her face as she realised she’d actually been slightly relieved at that, and wondered if, despite the disappointment she’d felt and hidden at the time, it hadn’t been the right call after all.

She heard the low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen and fought a loosing battle between a desire to stay wrapped in the warm bed sheets and finding the source of the aroma that kept tantalising her senses. Reluctantly she swung her legs out of bed and stood, stretching her hands high above her, twisting her waist to work out any kinks sleeping in a strange bed might have brought on. She dressed quickly, pulling her jeans on and sliding her t-shirt over her head, and had a hand on the door handle when she paused, a truly wicked grin sliding over her face as an idea bloomed in her mind.

[BOFH666]

“…so I managed to throw one of them into the guy and it seemed to distract him long enough for Fiona to hit the light and get us the hell out of there.” Steve said as he finished the ten-minute version of the night’s adventures. “I’ve don’t know how it happened, the only idea I can come up with seems ridiculous, but…” he trailed off as he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and turned to face the door, the greeting dying on his lips as Fiona stepped into view.

She was wearing