eXistenZ (2 page)

Levi was playing on the expectations of the crowd, feeding on their waves of concentration. He rocked slightly on his heels.

“eXistenZ!”
he said suddenly. “The word is
eXistenZ!”

He turned to the chalkboard and with a swift rapping sound wrote the word in large letters. He spelled it out deliberately, tapping the end of the chalk against each letter.

“Always spell it this way,” Levi said. “Small e, capital X, capital Z on the end.” He turned back to the audience.
“eXistenZ . . .
it’s new, it’s hot, it’s from Antenna Research, and it’s here right now.”

Everyone cheered and applauded enthusiastically, and Levi raised his face to catch the full beam of the twin spotlights, illuminating his face as if with inner radiance. He glanced enticingly across at the crowd: some people were still sitting in the rows of old wooden pews, or the uncomfortable plastic chairs brought in for the evening, but by now many were standing.

As the applause continued, Levi paced away from the chalkboard and with a measured tread stepped precisely toward the other side of the platform. He paused, turned, looked appreciatively out at the eager audience, then went back to the chalkboard. He timed it so the cheering and clapping faded as once again he stood at the center of the stage.

Behind him, on the other side of the platform, two young women assistants, obviously selected for their lovely faces and the way their figures filled out the trim outlines of the corporate designer relaxware, were carefully laying out some twenty or more plastic modules. From Pikul’s view at the back of the room, the modules looked a little like high-tech ski boots.

Levi raised his hand, ensuring that complete silence fell.

“My name is Wittold Levi,” he said, enunciating carefully. “My friends call me Witt . . . so I guess you can call me Witt too. I’m the project manager for
eXistenZ,
responsible for all development and customer input.” He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the spotlights, and peered at some of the audience. “I see a whole lot of familiar faces out there . . . but that’s okay. You can all hang around for the rest of the show.”

The laughter was warm; many of them had seen Witt’s work before.

“Antenna’s entire corporate rationale is to encourage consumer loyalty, and that’s why we’re here with you tonight. We need you, all of you, to help us with our product testing. We’re a team, Antenna and you. Those of you who have been invited to one of our seminars before will know that I normally lead you through our new games myself. Tonight, though, Antenna is launching
eXistenZ,
and that makes it a special occasion. To show you how special, we have brought you a seminar leader who can only be described as . . . unique.”

A ripple of anticipation moved through the crowd: people were swaying with excitement.

A young man standing close to Pikul said to a friend in an urgent whisper, “I don’t believe it! They wouldn’t bring her here! Not here!”

His companion’s face was sheened with perspiration, and the muscles of his jaw visibly tightened.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been hearing rumors for weeks. Gee, I hope that’s who he’s talking about! But Allegra Geller in this no-horse town?”

Pikul glanced across at Allegra Geller, who had moved to where the refreshments had been laid out on a long table. She was helping herself to a cookie, but otherwise showed no reaction at all.

Witt grinned boyishly as he picked up on the whispered anticipation from the audience.

“Yes it is!” he said, and raised his hands as if to open the clouds. “The world’s greatest game designer is here with you in person, tonight. It is your privilege that she will lead you, lead you herself, through her latest creation:
eXistenZ
from Antenna Research is here . . .”

Two people in the front row of the crowd fell to their knees, their faces burnished with excitement.

“Ladies and gendemen, tonight I give you . . . the Game-Pod Goddess herself—Allegra Geller!”

Witt leaped from the platform, brushing between the two people on their knees. He pushed his way firmly but politely through the press of the crowd. People moved to make way for him, recognizing that something sensational was about to happen in their lives. Every face in the room turned to follow his progress across the room.

He strode directly toward Allegra Geller. She brushed a finger across her lips to wipe away any crumbs that might have adhered.

Witt paused before her, a knowing half smile on his face. He raised his hand to take hers, then turned to lead her back through the crowd toward the platform. People stepped aside in awe, almost like water parted by a miracle as she passed between them. She kept her gaze averted.

As she moved away from him, Pikul saw that what he’d assumed was a shoulder bag was in fact a game-pod case, supported on a long strap. The pod hung at her waist. She rested her hand on it in an apparently relaxed way, but Pikul noticed that no matter how much she twisted or leaned as she walked through the audience, her hand never once strayed from the pod.

He realized that the awestruck mood of the crowd was getting to him, distracting him. He had a job to do, and that was to protect the young woman. He left his chair and moved swiftly toward one side of the raised platform.

Allegra Geller followed Wittold Levi, her free hand still held lightly in his. Standing in the center of the platform, she seemed dazed by the lights and the reaction of her followers. Clearly, she was nervous, but her modest smiles made her seem, to Pikul at least, a vision of all that was good, wise, intelligent, and beautiful in the world.

He stared at her in rapt attention.

“Hi, everyone!” Allegra said with the flash of a natural smile, narrowing her eyes in the glare of lights. “I’m Allegra Geller.”

The wave of warmth and the sheer enthusiasm of the applause that came back at her seemed to have a tangible pressure, because she rocked momentarily.

“Well, I’m glad to see so many of you were able to come here tonight.”

They laughed appreciatively. It was a knowing joke, one she knew they were all in on. And it was one they knew she knew . . . When Antenna Research announced a new Geller product presentation, you called off lunch with the President to be there. Even if you didn’t know Allegra Geller herself was going to be present.

“Let me give it to you straight,” she continued, after a thoughtful pause. “The world of games is in a kind of trance. Most people are programmed to accept so little, but the possibilities are great. Infinite, in fact.”

She paused to glance expressively around at the crowd, feeding on their response. They were so hyped up, they were practically humming with anticipation.

“Okay,” Allegra said. “I see you’ve been thinking the same way I have. That’s why you’re here. You probably thought that tonight we were going to test a new game. One I designed. Is that right?”

There was a roar of assent.

“I’m sorry . . . there is no new game for you to test. At least, not in the usual sense.”

She was starting to enjoy herself. While many people groaned with disappointment, Allegra looked winsomely at the bare boards of the platform floor, her eyes twinkling.

“No, I guess I can say that it’s going to be much better than that! More than you expected.
eXistenZ
is not just a game.” She had their attention again. She began pacing, to give emphasis to her words. “It’s more than a game, it’s a whole new game system. Antenna Research and I have developed it together—the
eXistenZ
System by Antenna—and it involves a whole lot of new toys. New experiences. New challenges. New insights into not only the world of reality, but into your own inner consciousness. Tonight you are going to be among the very first people in the world to try out these new systems.”

Witt now stepped forward, chalk in hand.

“Yeah,” he said over the excited noise. “I can second what Ms. Geller has said. The new Antenna Research game system is something you’re going to hear a lot more about. It’s called MetaFlesh.”

He turned to the board and rapped out the letters of the word with the same flourish as before.

“It’s written like this,” he said, tapping at the letters. “Get it right, from the start. One word. Capital M, capital F. MetaFlesh is what our new games are made from . . . the MetaFlesh Game-Pod, only from Antenna Research. It connects with any industry standard bioport.” He made a suggestive swerve of his hips and gave a knowing, sensual look at the crowd. “I realize you all have those bioports, or you wouldn’t be here at all . . .”

They loved that. Possession of a bioport was clearly the entrance ticket to a whole range of sensual experiences, whose thrills could only be guessed at by those who had so far failed to get a bioport fitted.

People like Ted Pikul, who had so far failed to get a bioport fitted.

He glared at the crowd and tightened his grip on the electronic wand.

Witt was continuing. “. . . MetaFlesh uses the standard port, then, but the connecting device itself is completely nonstandard. We call it . . .”

He turned back to the chalkboard and wrote in large letters.

“We call it an UmbyCord,” Witt said, and once more expressively tapped the letters. “One word, spelled like this. Capital U, capital C. Get the word right, because you’re gonna be hearing a lot about UmbyCord in the months ahead.”

“Based on umbilical, right?” It was someone in the front row.

“Right,” said Witt. “You’re getting the idea of what MetaFlesh and UmbyCord can do together. You’ll also find out, like I did, that you’ve never tried anything quite as much fun, or anything so revolutionary, as this. Tonight, Allegra and I are going to show you some of that. This demonstration is not only free of charge, but it is
entirely without obligation to buy.
However, we’re pretty confident you can all make up your own minds about that.”

While they laughed again he turned with a theatrical flourish and indicated the two young assistants behind him and Allegra. They had finished laying out their weird devices on the table at the back of the platform and were now standing attentively at each end of it.

In a loud voice Witt asked, “Are the MetaFlesh Game-Pods by Antenna Research ready?”

“Yes, Mr. Levi!” said the first, and “Yes, Mr. Levi!” said the second.

“And so that these good people here tonight might try the Antenna Research MetaFlesh Game-Pods, how many of the precious prototypes did we manage to bring with us?”

“Twenty-one, Mr. Levi,” said the assistant at the end of the platform closest to Pikul. She was wearing, Pikul now noticed, a worried expression on her attractive face. Clearly her answer was not the one Witt had been expecting.

His face clouded and he stepped across to the young woman.

He said in a voice that did not carry, but that Pikul was able to hear, “Only twenty-one? I thought you brought an even two dozen.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied softly. “But the first three we opened were . . . well, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Nonfunctioning?”

“More . . . unhealthy, sir.”

“Are the others okay?”

“We think we’re clean otherwise.”

“Goddamn better be healthy,” Levi snarled, but as he turned back toward the audience his face was radiant once again. “Just checking, folks!” he cried. “We have indeed twenty-one, that’s one and twenty, prototype MetaFlesh Game-Pods all ready for action here tonight. That means that for our first-wave test enclave we need one and twenty volunteers. You don’t have to do much—you simply port in these slave units with the Game-Pod Goddess herself . . .”

Allegra smiled shyly at this, but already the hall was in an uproar, everyone stretching forward, reaching, pushing against the edge of the platform, imploring Witt to choose them.

Pikul took a step forward, remembering his brief to protect Allegra Geller no matter what, but he realized immediately that his entire security resources consisted of one electronic wand of untested potential and a soft plastic pink-fone.

He hoped that Wittold Levi and the assistants had the situation safely in hand. But then, he reassured himself, they must have done this sort of thing before.

[
2
]

For several minutes confusion reigned in the sweltering hall. The heaving mass of the audience was scrambling to get on the platform, while Pikul helped Levi and his staff fight to keep them off. The atmosphere of enthusiasm was infectious and good-natured, but beneath it there was a distinct sense of fanaticism and obsessive determination by everyone there to be the one, one of the twenty-one, who would be privileged to port into the new game with Allegra Geller.

Finally, order of a sort was restored, and Levi managed to get the crowd to group itself into four lines of more or less equal length. From these eager participants Levi and his assistants chose the privileged twenty-one by a system of random selection based on the third letter of each persons surname: the first twenty-one in alphabetical order were selected to go on the platform. Once they had worked it out, everyone accepted this system with apparent good grace, and soon most of the audience had returned to their places, and the lucky volunteers were waiting to be fitted with their game gear.

For each person, one of the assistants undid the heavy-duty snap-locks on the ski-boot plastic modules and split the case open. Inside, packed and protected in an inner case of thick Styrofoam, was the MetaFlesh Game-Pod. This looked like nothing less than a pale, living kidney, both in shape and size and the way the fleshy exterior was resilient and warm.

Coiled in the “toe” of the ski boot was the UmbyCord for each game-pod. This was a long translucent cord, apparently filled with some kind of transparent viscous fluid. The cord was twisted and sinewy like muscle tissue, and had red and blue veinlike vessels running just beneath the surface. It was Y-shaped, with a connecting socket on each of the three ends.

As the volunteers were handed the pod and its cord, they fell into reflective silence, holding the bizarre equipment with a sense of awe and reverence. With the material in hand, each player was invited to sit in one of the twenty-two chairs placed in a semicircle facing the audience.