Aliens

Adventures in the Metaverse 2

Chapter 2: Aliens

At the rate of one every fifty years or so, an alien arrives in the Metaverse, having discovered some method or other of transforming themselves into a non-material form. Such new arrivals are usually a source of considerable interest and pleasure, mainly for their potential to inspire the Metaverse with new aesthetics. Indeed, whole new fashions have been born from the appearance of new alien beings in the Metaverse, such as that for liquid environments following the appearance of a dozen tentacle-waving Iqaatl in 332 AR. Most of the time aliens are sociable and keen to join the fun, but in the year 877, a rather different sort of alien appeared.

‘Hey, silver dude, are you new here or something? You’ve got no name flagged. It’s considered good form to flag one mate.’ A human avatar with psychedelic skin leaned close to a silver sphere, admiring the curved and magnified appearance of his teeth in its surface. The shining ball was nearly the same size as the avatar and he did not have to bend far.

If you had been watching, what happened next would have come as quite a surprise. A ripple surged across the sphere, forming an arm that struck the avatar’s face so fast that he didn’t have time to blink. With a faint ‘woa’ and a sucking sound, the avatar disappeared into the sphere.

For a moment the alien assumed its perfect spherical form again. Then bulges started to appear, accompanied by flashes of colour. You could briefly make out the avatar’s teeth, his flowery chest, a leg, an eye. For a fraction of a second it seemed like a restored avatar was standing in the spot occupied by the sphere. Then the alien was back again, silver, glowing, and with a certain air of contentment about it. It now had a name-flag: 1.

1 rolled across a strike lawn, an abandoned casino, a park designed by Lady Sorrow - full of lilies and weeping willows - and a rather tastefully designed ballroom, all without displaying the slightest deviation or wobble. Where it encountered obstacles, even the flimsy branches of trees, it rolled right along them, as though weightless but not quite floating. The sphere came to a stop at a residence, a bright red circular door set in the side of a gentle hill. Sitting among the flowers of the front garden were three avatars, evidently having a picnic.

‘Hello 1, nice minimalist look.’

‘Goes well with the name.’

‘Yeah, hi. Are you new here? I don’t believe we’ve met?’

The sphere gave no other response than to begin a slight quivering motion.

‘Awesome, three more little cuties.’

‘Hey there, do you guys speak? Or just, like, click against each other or something?’

‘Nice idea. Maybe they line up, and the end one clatters against the rest, so the one on the far side pops out, like those toys.’

‘Hah!’

‘What?’

‘Hey!’

‘Help!’

1, 2, 3 and 4 rolled away from the garden, on paths that were exactly ninety degrees to one another.

Willing: Hey EV, you want to liberate the Metaverse again?

Eternal: Sure Willing, what’s up?

Willing: Take the tag.

Eternal Voyager and Willing Joke were lying face down in a cloud, their bodies angled downwards enough that they could peek out below the mist. Both looked as if they had arrived in a hurry, since Eternal was in the shape of a merman, while Willing was an elven ranger, complete with a powerful looking magic bow.

‘I’ve got my dark-elf assassin avatar boxed up near the top of my inventory, have I got time to change?’ Eternal was speaking in a whisper, even though the two of them were far above the silver ball that they were following. As 1,946 rolled steadily across a dirt landscape, it seemed to be unaware that a little grey cloud was drifting overhead at exactly the same pace.

‘Yeah,’ replied Willing, without lifting his head.

Leaving his friend to monitor their target, Eternal began to rummage through his gaming avatars.

‘Aha.’

Now he was a slender but well-muscled female, with a zebra-like skin tone for natural camouflage and a powerful array of combat features, including eyes that, if you could keep your head steady enough, were able to lock onto targets millions of miles away then scroll around to view the target from every possible angle. The avatar was perfect for the current situation and even the taciturn Willing, after sparing Eternal a glance, gave a grunt of approval.

‘Watch this.’

The sphere came to a house, a gothic mansion, and without stopping, rolled up the wall, across the pinnacles of the roof and down the far side.

‘Well?’ Willing whispered.

‘It looks fabulous. Crazy though, why not fly?’

‘Exactly. I’ve never seen one fly, or teleport, or move faster or slower than this.’

A male and a female avatar were playing some kind of chase game in the garden maze behind the mansion. Their laughter was audible to the two friends on the cloud and the cheerful sounds also seemed to attract 1,946; the silver alien deviated abruptly from its course and rolled towards the noise. With a curiously smooth motion, the sphere rose and fell over hedges. By the time the sphere reached the avatars, the playmates had finished their game and were lying together beside a fountain.

‘Sorry friend, this is a private garden,’ said the female avatar.

The male raised himself up from the ground on one elbow. ‘What are you doing?’

On the cloud above the scene, Willing whispered to Eternal, ‘set your eyes to record.’

A moment after Eternal did so, there were three spheres below them and the garden no longer seemed a pleasant place for amusement; a distinct atmosphere of menace was now presence. As the avatars stood up, the new spheres struck. After a series of convulsions, the orbs settled into their perfect silver shapes, with the two new spheres tagging themselves 2,023 and 2,024. All three rolled away; there was something chilling about the fact that their trajectories seemed perfectly equidistant from each other.

‘Did you get their names?’ asked Willing.

‘Let me see.’ Eternal reviewed the attack on playback. ‘Masked Anarchy and Lady Arachnia.’

‘No contact.’

Eternal tried.

Eternal: Masked Anarchy, are you there?

Eternal: Lady Arachnia?

‘What’s that mean?’ All at once Eternal was sobered by the realisation that this was not a new form of entertainment.

‘It means they weren’t killed, or they would have been restored at their last backup point. Somehow, they have been captured. They are inside.’

‘What should we do?’

The cloud belonged to Willing and by way of an answer he directed it to follow 1,946. They put on a burst of speed to catch up.

‘Got any weapons?’

‘An armoury full,’ answered Eternal proudly.

‘Shoot it.’

‘Shoot it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘But, like, what if I kill it?’

‘Great, then the person inside will either be free or will be killed too, in which case they can be restored.’

‘But, maybe these silver spheres aren’t backed up, they are kind of new.’

‘Yeah. A new type of alien probably.’

‘So, I probably shouldn’t shoot it.’

‘Shoot it to bits.’

‘Ahh. Sod it, alright!’

The Metaspace rules for warfare were well established and EV was a veteran of hundreds of battles. In a game, it was often vital to get your hands on the right weapon at the right time and unlike the rest of his inventory, EV's arsenal was well ordered. From it, Eternal swiftly drew out an Atanski, almost caressing its bronzed surface as he lined up the sights on the sphere. The first few rounds were tracers and screamed as they shot through the air, a blaze of green leaving afterimages of the line they had followed. Only after he had unleashed a full clip of explosive ammunition into the alien did Eternal move away from the sights and zoom in on the sphere to inspect the damage.

‘No good.’ Willing was holding up binoculars to his eyes: rather beautiful violet elven eyes, but not as practical for this situation as those of an assassin.

‘No.’ In a way Eternal was relieved, it would have been a shame if 1,946 had died irretrievably. As it was, the sphere was now stationary, and if perfectly seamless silver orbs could scowl, 1,946 was scowling.

‘You know, I think it’s looking at us.’

Eternal was going to scoff at the idea, but he felt it too. ‘Yeah, creepy.’

The cloud had stopped moving long before it was above the sphere, but now 1,946 began to roll towards them, still hundreds of yards below, but it was disconcerting enough.

‘Back up.’ Eternal suggested.

‘No, let’s see.’

Soon they were staring directly down at the silver orb and it was probably staring right back at them.

‘If it flies up at us, teleport out.’

‘Right,’ Eternal agreed and prepared a destination: a sandy palm-strewn island in a warm turquoise sea that he and Angel had once built together.

The standoff, however, continued. After about twenty minutes, the sphere resumed its course, rolling on, as if unperturbed by having been the recipient of six hundred rounds from the heaviest handheld weapon in the Metaverse.

They followed it, two heads peering out through the bottom of a grey cloud. In time 1,946 arrived at a river, the surface of which it rolled over without difficulty or deviation.

‘Aha, now we can try something else.’

‘Yes?’ Eternal was curious.

‘We’ve just crossed into the sim of Tiara Esmerelda, magic is enabled here.’

Cross-legged on the cloud, Willing began to rummage in his quiver.

‘Let’s try this.’ He was brandishing a bone arrow, which had tiny indigo runes carved along the full length of the shaft. Beautiful peacock feathers made up the fletching.

‘What is it?’

‘An arrow of petrification.’

Watching Willing prepare the shot was to watch a master at work and Eternal lay back admiringly. The elf stood tall on the cloud, eyes fixed on his target. A light breeze caused strands of his long gold hair to play across the shimmering chainmail that Willing was wearing. It was a splendid image, both martial and delicate and EV set his eyes to record. For a long time the archer waited, concentrating, appraising, with arrow nocked, but the string not yet stretched. At last the bow was lifted, held out before him. In one smooth motion Willing drew and released. The arrow was flexing as it shot away, the wobbles gradually dampening to a pure, straight, flight. It plunged into the moving silver sphere with less resistance than if it had hurtled through the film of a bubble.

‘Good shot.’

Willing acknowledged the compliment with a slight nod. ‘Didn’t work though.’

Once again 1,946 was rolling back towards them and once more it radiated annoyance.

While the alien and Willing outstared each other, Eternal attended to some new casts, all of which had ‘urgent’ flags attached.

‘Hey Willing, check out Aural 101.’

A message was being repeated, over and over.

WARNING: The big silver balls you see everywhere are dangerous, keep away from them. For more information access 101: Danger. Ballcount 3,712.

For a while Eternal and Willing were silent, engaged with all the information that others had posted, including some rather disturbing slow motion scenes of avatars being sucked into the spheres.

‘I’m going to upload what we have,’ Eternal said at last.

Willing didn’t respond to EV’s comment, but mused aloud to himself. ‘What are they?’

Below the two friends, the sphere once more resumed its steady path.

Eternal sighed. ‘I wish Stormrider was around, he’d have some idea.’

Up ahead of them was a hill on which was a collection of large white crystal rocks, looking part natural and partly as if an ancient sculpture had once tumbled down the hillside. Among the rocks, a large gathering of elves were holding some kind of festival. As the faint music of flutes and harps became discernible to Eternal’s heightened assassin hearing skills, the silver sphere abruptly altered course towards the source of the sound.

‘Hang on.’ Willing raced the cloud across to the party with a dramatic blast of acceleration and an equally dramatic halt. ‘Get out now! Teleport. Fly. Get away from the silver sph …’ The broadcast from the cloud had amplified Willing’s voice to a violent shout, but someone below who had control rights over the sim had cut him off.

Hundreds of silver orbs were flowing eagerly up the hill. But frustratingly, most of the partygoers were looking up at the cloud and gesturing that it should go away and leave them alone. Zooming in on name tags, Eternal began sending private messages, but that was no good, he wasn’t on the priority list of anyone here and his message might be stored, unread, for days.

It didn’t take long for the spheres to pounce on their avatar targets, sucking them up. A handful of avatars did realise in time that they were in danger and succeeded in teleporting away, but the rest were rather gruesomely absorbed by the attacking wave of spheres. In the aftermath of the suckfest a few orbs were left without a target. These orphan spheres quivered for a while on the spot, before rolling over to 1,946 and being reabsorbed by it. The rest of them set forth, an undulating wave of silver, steadily dispersing across the landscape, their tags reading 3,804 to 3,896.

‘Uggh,’ muttered Eternal.

Willing scowled.

Eternal: Angel, there’s something I must tell you.

Angel: This is an autoresponse. Angel is busy working on her new ballet. If your message is REALLY important, or if you are Eternal Voyager, you may send an override.

Eternal: Baby, it’s me.

Angel: Hi there sweetheart, good to hear from you.

Eternal: I’m glad you are there, have you seen the silver sphere things?

Angel: No?

Eternal: There’s like, these big silver balls rolling everywhere, but they are dangerous. If you see one teleport away at once. They pounce on people and suck them up. The thing is, you don’t die, somehow you get imprisoned. You could be in there for years. Unless we figure a way to get everyone out.

Angel: Sounds serious. Want me to help?

Eternal: Maybe. How’s the ballet going?

Angel: Well, I think. I have a good feeling about it.

Eternal: Tell you what then, I’ll carry on hunting with Willing, it’s kind of fun actually and we’ll call you in later.

Angel: Sounds good lover, do take care though.

Eternal: I will.

Angel: xoxoxox

Eternal: XXXX

‘What next?’ EV asked Willing, who had directed the cloud to follow 1,946 once more.

‘You are right. Let’s find Stormrider II, he needs to come out of retirement for this.’

‘Do you know where he is?’ Eternal was surprised.

‘I think so.’

‘You have swapped jump-to tags?’

‘Yes.’

Envy was not a strong component of Eternal’s emotional makeup, but he did feel a twinge of resentment at this information. In a Metaverse where privacy was valued very highly, it was a significant matter when two people exchanged jump-to tags. These were tags that showed your location and whilst they could be turned off at any time, the very fact that you allowed someone to ever know of your whereabouts was an enormous compliment to their discretion. Of course Eternal and Angel had swapped jump-to tags but he had very few others on his list and most of those were not set to active. Until this moment he had assumed that Stormrider II was too reclusive to have swapped jump-to tags with anyone.

As though he could read Eternal’s thoughts, Willing paused in the middle of tying his hair back in a ponytail.

‘You and I should swap jump-to tags.’

‘You and me? Really?’ Eternal was delighted.

‘Yeah. You’re alright.’

‘Thanks Willing, you know I’m a great admirer of yours. I’ve followed all your battles. This is very flattering.’

‘Follow me.’

And Willing was gone. A moment later, his tag glowed in a remote part of the Metaverse and Eternal took it.

Landing in a utilitarian white cube of a room, Eternal looked around at banks of computer monitors and other large screens all showing colourful but incomprehensible scenes of flowing lines.

‘Hello EV, good to see you.’

Eternal turned towards the deep tones of Stormrider II. His friend liked to incarnate in an androgynous, hairless, functional avatar for serious research work. It was, at least, a pleasant shade of amber. ‘Hi Stormy, how’s things?’

‘Not good, EV, not good.’

‘Yeah, Those silver guys are quite an infestation’

‘Silver guys?’

‘The spheres, that, like, absorb you.’

For a moment Stormrider paused, probably accessing the latest casts. ‘Oh those,’ the tall slender avatar shrugged dismissively, ‘they are trivial.’

‘But this isn’t?’ Willing was looking through a glass floor at what seemed to be an amazing sculpture, Eternal walked over to join the archer.

Below their feet was a square shaft, about ten kilometres deep. In it floated the most delicate plants EV had ever seen. Even with his eyes set to their highest resolution, there was no discerning the individual filaments of the billions upon billons of fibrous tendrils that undulated gently in their liquid environment.

‘This, my friends,’ said Stormrider proudly, ‘is the most profound experiment to have ever taken place in the Metaverse.’

‘Experiment?’ asked Eternal dutifully, knowing how keen Stormrider always was to explain his work. But EV’s heart sank a little. In order to rescue the Metaverse from near collapse at the hands of a virus, Eternal had once been forced to involve himself in decades of study into scripting and even the merest hint of a science lecture brought on a shudder at the memory.

‘You understand that there is a physical universe that supports the Metaverse? A universe of galaxies, stars, dust, dark matter and void?’

Eternal nodded and glanced at Willing. The elven warrior was still studying the floor beneath him and it was unclear to EV if he was attending the lecture or not.

‘Well, in fact this physical universe actually consists of billions upon billions of individual universes, each of which contracts and expands, like a beating heart.’ Stormrider paused, then evidently aware of the discomfort of his guests, hurried on. ‘That heartbeat is faltering and it might pose a danger to the Metaverse.’

‘Danger?’ Willing raised an eyebrow. Danger was his middle name. Not literally, although Willing Dangerous Joke had a certain style about it, EV thought.

‘Put simply, it could all fall apart, everything. Even now, if it wasn’t for the fact that our own mental processes are speeding up and decelerating with the boom and contraction of clusters of physical universe, we’d be experiencing stronger slow waves than we are already doing.’

‘Slow waves,’ repeated EV, with a touch of horror in his voice. Everyone hated slow waves.

Willing tapped the glass of the floor beneath his feet with the end of his bow. ‘What are the plants for?’

‘Measurement. I set up a dozen of these chambers all with identical start conditions and the variation between them can - if you know what you’re doing - be interpreted in such a way as to monitor the physical universe.’

‘I see,’ said EV, not seeing at all. ‘That’s very ingenious Storm, but about the silver critters?’

Stormrider’s bald avatar shook his head despairingly. ‘I’ve just told you the whole Metaverse is in danger of being shaken into little pieces and you’re still worried about that alien.’

‘Can you stop it?’

‘Not without it interfering with my work. Look EV, you are resourceful and clever, you will find a way to deal with the problem.’

‘Me, resourceful and clever?’ He felt rather proud of the compliment.

‘Well, resourceful anyway. Go sort them out.’ The amber figure smiled. ‘And EV, let me know how you get on.’

Somewhat disconcerted to be dismissed so quickly, Eternal looked across at Willing, who shrugged and gave a hand signal for exit.

‘All right, we’ll go solve this alien attack,’ EV said, choosing a random location from his ‘favourites’ list. He teleported out and his spirits improved at the thought that he did not need to send a tag to Willing, they were now jump-to buddies.

***

At night, Sol’s Beach Bar was busy with party goers. By day, it tended to be a drop in centre for star surfers, who loafed around the comfortable soft furniture, where they either watched casts on the big screen, or tinkered with their equipment, or - very rarely - prepared to head out along the pier to Sol’s spaceship for a surfing expedition.

It was afternoon in this part of the Metaverse and Sol himself was in the bar, making adjustments to the disco lighting, while rock music blasted out from the jukebox. Just beyond the open double doors, on the porch, was Mellow, swinging in a hammock, probably enjoying the gentle breeze that came in from a sighing sea.

‘Hey EV! Good to see you dude.’ And Sol seemed genuinely pleased.

Peering up over the side of her hammock, Mellow gave Eternal a wave.

‘Oh, and Willing Joke. This isn’t a social call then?’ Sol reached out towards the elven ranger and the two of them shook hands. It amused EV to see such formality between the two avatars. But then, Sol wouldn’t really know Willing too well, except by reputation as a warrior. While Willing probably didn’t know Sol at all. ‘What’s up?’

‘Have you heard about the silver spheres? asked EV.

‘Yeah?’

‘We want to stop them sucking up people.’

‘Right. They are very... uncool doing that. Sol adjusted the headband that kept a blonde fringe out of his eyes. ‘But why did you come here?’

Eternal shrugged. ‘No reason, particularly. I just like your place. It’s a good place to think.’

‘Hah, I don’t think anyone has said that about Sol’s Beach Bar before now.’ But all the same, Sol looked pleased. ‘Well, it’s all yours. Need anything? Drink? Drugs?’

‘Can we use the screen?’ asked Willing, pointing to the big display, ‘and turn off the music?’

‘Not a rock fan?’

‘We’ll want to review the recent casts and listen to them.’

‘Oh, right. Sure thing dude.’

Instantly, the bar was quiet. EV took an armchair, Willing a couch, and they divided the screen between them. Time passed, although how much, EV couldn’t say. There was an awful lot of data out there already, as more and more people joined the discussions about the strange silver aliens. There were thousands of uploaded clips to glance through. And an ominous ballcount, over 20,000 and rising rapidly.

‘Hey EV, nice camo skin. Mind if I join you?’ Mellow took the armchair next to him.

‘Thanks, sure, want to share my screen or take a bit for yourself?’

‘I’ll share yours.’

They read on, Mellow sometimes suggesting which clips to view, but more often letting EV choose.

‘Hey, guys, there’s one of those sliver dudes here now!’ Sol was pointing to a window, a moment later the glass crashed and the sphere entered the bar, rapidly followed by three other aliens.

Wiling was already on his feet and racing towards the open doors behind them. Still in his assassin form and grateful for it, EV too was moving fast. No sooner had he thought to evade the nearest sphere than his avatar had sprung up and vaulted elegantly to a wooden rail, which he now ran along towards Willing.

A glance at the dance floor showed that Mellow, however, was in trouble. They halted for nothing, these evil spheres, and they were on her.

‘Port out!’ shouted EV and at the same time a powerful explosive noise shook the room. Sol had produced a shotgun from his inventory and given a sphere both barrels. But if Eternal had learned one thing from watching clips about the spheres, it was that no weapon could harm them. Sphere 16,866 barely shivered with the impact of the shots. And then Mellow was no more. Just a momentary series of convulsions inside a smug and replete silver orb.

‘Now its personal!’ shouted EV with genuine fury, but he kept running. ‘Come on Sol!’

Outside, in the bright sunlight, EV couldn’t see Willing.

‘Up here.’

The Elf was directly above him, levitating.

‘Oh, good idea.’ And EV drifted up to float in the air beside him. A few heartbeats later Sol was there too, leaping up to join them, the four silver spheres close behind him, but unable to reach up to his heels. Quivering with eagerness and excitement, the spheres rolled around the wooden decking with hardly a sound other than a faint clicking when they knocked into each other. Then they tried to climb closer to the three avatars by forming a stack, four balls tall. EV and his friends immediately edged up and away.

‘Nasty sods,’ muttered Sol. ‘How do you get rid of them?’

Anger was so unfamiliar a feeling for Eternal that, in part, he was enjoying it. But then he let fury overwhelm him and his voice became grim. ‘Let’s see. Can you give me landscape scripting permission please Sol?’

‘You’ve got it.’

Regretful at damaging the patient work someone had put in on Sol’s decking, EV nevertheless acted swiftly, energised by his newly-discovered temper. All the spheres were suddenly contained in a large but invisible cube – one that unfortunately cut through Sol’s patio - and inside the boundaries he had drawn there was no atmosphere: it was entirely vacuum. It had been Eternal’s hope that the silver aliens would explode due to the pressure differential and thus trigger Mellow’s return to her last backup. But the only noticeable change to the aliens was that the four spheres amalgamated into one: 20,866.

‘Woa, dude!’ cried Sol, when he saw what EV had done. ‘Isn’t that a bit ... coercive or something? These silver guys might be rude, but they have rights. And you’ve wrecked my gaff.’

‘It can’t move,’ observed Willing, oblivious to Sol’s outrage.

Both EV and Sol peered more closely, it was true. 20,866 quivered in the vacuum with an air of frustration about it. But the alien was not going anywhere.

With an apologetic shrug for Sol, EV rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘It seems they have to be touching something to propel themselves.’

Still resolute in his purpose, fueled by the memory of how 20,866 had swallowed one of his truest friends, EV continued with his scripting. Now a simple plank appeared inside the space he had made and as soon as the wood touched the sphere, 20,866 rolled along it gratefully. On reaching the end of the plank, still well within the boundary of the vacuum, the cube stopped, then rolled back. Then forward. It was restless, confined.

‘All right, here’s my idea,’ said Eternal enthusiastically, ‘we lead it to a volcano and hope it melts in the lava. Where’s the nearest volcano?’

Both Willing and Sol were silent, probably looking up the answer to EV’s question. It was Willing who spoke first.

‘No joy, EV. It’s way over by Indigo Buffalo’s place and we wouldn’t have permission to amend even half of the terrain we’d need to cross.’

‘I wonder what happens if we teleport the whole lot though?’ Eternal mused aloud.

Willing looked up from the trapped alien. ‘Why not try it?’

‘All right.’ It was easier to grasp hold of something tangible than to grapple with the edge of a vacuum cube, so EV drew a quick wooden crate around the vacuum and - pausing only to stamp in red letters SILVER FREAKY BALL WITH MELLOW INSIDE - cut it before pasting it on the volcano icon on the map that Willing had been quick to pull up. The box was gone, leaving a dull void where the Beach Bar’s sun deck had been. Sol gave a grimace.

Eternal slapped his friend on the back. ‘Sorry Sol, but the hunt is on.’

‘It’s all right. I needed a redesign anyway,’ said Sol bravely, but EV could hear the suffering in his voice and felt a little guilty.

Willing had already teleported; Eternal followed.

The atmosphere above the volcano was unpleasant. Authentically so. The air was hot and dry and stank of sulphur. Waves of heat from below caused EV to flush all over.

The box was right beside them and EV stripped off the wooden covers. 20,866 was still there in the middle of the vacuum, presumably seething with frustration.

Sol popped into existence beside the two adventurers.

‘Ready?’ asked Eternal.

‘Wait,’ the elven warrior held up a gloved hand. ‘Let’s turn the lava transparent so we can see what happens.’

Eternal paused.

‘Damn, I have to ask Indigo for permission and he’s not answering.’ Willing gave a shrug. ‘My ranger avatar can stand the heat, how about you two?’

‘Yep, and a lot more besides,’ said EV, a certain pride in his voice.

Opening the top button of his turquoise patterned short-sleeved shirt, Sol just gave a smile and a brief nod.

‘Drop it then.’

Gravity was set to the Metaverse default here and as soon as EV deleted his container, 20,866 plummeted swiftly down into the open mouth of the volcano. All three avatars plunged after the sphere. There was barely time to note and appreciate the diving poses of his companion’s avatars: Willing looked fantastic with a classical swallow dive position and his long golden hair steaming behind him; Sol, too, looked good in a composed feet-first, arms out, twirling whirlybird descent. Then, with a shock of liquid orange heat, EV entered the lava.

Everything was too hot and too confusing. He was too deep in the scalding molten rock, and even his enhanced vision was unable to find the alien. Hopefully, the wretched creature had melted. But it was impossible to tell, so EV floated back up and out of the lava. Willing’s ranger was already there, half hidden by wreathes of smoke. Soon after, Sol popped up.

‘Anything mate?’ he asked EV.

Eternal shook his head; Willing said nothing.

Eternal: Mellow? Are you back?

While thinking about what message to leave Mellow, for when her backup was raised, EV’s heart sank to see the silver sphere come bobbing up to the top of the lava, as shiny and pleased with itself as ever.

‘Grab it,’ said Sol.

Downcast that his plan had not worked, Eternal spoke quietly. ‘I can’t, no permissions.’

So they had to watch helplessly as the sphere rolled up vertical walls and down rocky mountain slopes. The three avatars followed their enemy for some time, no one talking. Certainly, EV felt out of ideas.

At last they crossed a boundary into public Metaspace and this time it was Willing who sketched a vacuum cube and scooped up the silver alien.

‘What now?’ Eternal asked, hoping that he did not sound too dispirited.

‘Bring it with us star surfing. Let’s see how the little mudgrubber likes that.’ Sol on the other hand was full of resolution and his words immediately revived EV’s martial spirit.

‘Yes. Good idea. Let’s go!’

A moment later, Sol was half way across the Metaverse and extending a tag to EV, who took it gladly. They were painfully close to a white dwarf star, but EV’s assassin eye’s rapidly adjusted, shielding him from the brilliance. As was his preferred choice for star surfing, Sol’s bronze avatar wore only shorts and sunglasses. Sol always claimed that he liked the feel of the board beneath his naked feet.

‘What are we going to do with the alien?’ Willing had appeared, throwing up an arm over his eyes. The silver sphere was floating in space nearby.

‘Can we tow it with us?’ suggested EV.

The elf frowned. ‘I suppose I could construct a box around it, like yours, and fasten something to that. But whatever material I use will melt.’

‘Let it,’ Sol looked very masterful with his inscrutable sunglasses. ‘By then momentum and gravity will do the rest.’

‘All right then.’ Willing was no longer an elven ranger; now he looked like a robot, all gleaming chrome.

‘Wait.’ EV had to change too. But his transformation was just as swift as that of the arch-warrior, for naturally he had a default star-surfing avatar. It was an androgynous scarlet humanoid, barely four feet high.

Grinning broadly, Sol led the way, his board a long silver guitar pick with beautiful lines. ‘Stay in my slipstream,’ he shouted over his shoulder and adopted his famous surfing pose, arms wide, weight two thirds back, one third forwards.

Next came EV: of the hundreds of boards in his inventory, Eternal chose the scarlet one that matched his skin. This came with long flowing streamers of gold that would be burned away in the ride. A glance over his shoulder showed that Willing was surfing in EV’s wake and behind him was the case with the alien.

Soon they were engulfed by the corona of the star, with immensely powerful flares of hydrogen and helium surging up around the three surfers, filling their horizons with incandescent splendour and their ears with the roaring white noise of creation.

The art of star surfing lay in this: while it was quite possible for any avatar to live in a star by concentrating on their immediate environment and controlling it, the same trick was an immensely difficult one if you were pitching and rolling as you boarded through the violent energies of the explosions of the star.

Willing: backed up recently?

Eternal: three weeks ago.

Willing: Take it easy. One of us must live or we lose all the research on these guys that we’ve done so far.

Eternal: Will do.

For all Willing’s fighting skills, he was no star surfer and his anxiety was premature, for EV at least. After all, EV was dedicated to the art and would not be in any danger until they had gone much deeper into the corona.

Sol: OK dudes, stay close in my stream and you’ll be fine. Let’s go burn this silver kidnapper.

Down they went, surfing through layers of plasma that even thousands of kilometres above the star’s surface were writhing with tremendous energy. Anticipation and experience were everything here and ahead of EV, Sol was weaving a careful route between the crests and troughs of molten energy. Lost in the weaving patterns of light, that through his avatar’s specialised eyes appeared to stream past in vivid hues of purple and red, EV quite forgot the purpose of their mission.

Faster now, skirting enormous formations of vast bubbles and collapsing towers of helium alike, Eternal felt the shivering of his board beneath his feet. Despite the relatively smooth passage created by being in Sol’s slipstream, his board wanted to flip and EV’s concentration was taken up entirely on maintaining his balance. If he reached out, his fingertips would be burned away by the incandescent plasma rushing past, just beyond the shadow of his board.

Sol: That’s enough. Coming up.

Thousands of kilometres across, a flare was forming, surging up out of the depths of the star to blast across space. Dipping and swerving, Sol caught the flare and EV followed every move. Now they were riding in a heaving current of scarlet violence, on the verge of being engulfed from behind by the enormous rolling flare, but always flying a fraction ahead of the storm. At last, the light began to cool to pleasant variations of amber. Working his way out to the fringes of the flare, Sol led them to what was a gentle stream of plasma in comparison to the great rushing river they had just survived.

‘Nice ride dudes. Not a bad little dip. Hey, EV, did you catch those eighters I had to pull to slip the runoffs?’

‘Yep, very tidy. I recorded them too: they would make a good illustration if you wanted to do a cast on the perfect eight.’

‘Nice ride? You nearly got us all killed there and then where would we be for saving the Metaverse? That was completely irresponsible. All we wanted to do was drop the alien in the star and get going. Not rush around showing off with instant death metres away.’ Willing’s humanoid robot was shivering with anger.

‘Chill it warrior guy. We were never in danger. Mission accomplished and all that. Do either of you know what happened to the little fella?’

All three of them looked back towards the star and EV’s eyes instantly dropped their filters to protect his vision.

‘Gone, I think!’

But he had spoken too soon, for Willing had drawn out some kind of scanning device and was shaking his head.

‘No, it’s still in there. On the far side, in an orbit I think.’

‘Wow, these silver dudes are indestructible. You have to respect that.’

‘Well, let’s go find another one,’ EV said brightly. Their star surfing experienced had so energised him that he was not dismayed by the survival of the silver orb.

‘Hold on now mate,’ Sol frowned. ‘We can’t just leave it there. That’s like littering or something. These stars are beautiful and pure, man.’

‘Right, good point,’ answered EV, with a touch of guilt.

‘Look, you two are on a mission. I’m not so mad at it anymore, so tell you what. You go save the Mellow and the Metaverse, I’ll go back for my spaceship and tidy up the star.’

‘All right,’ said Willing at once. ‘Nice meeting you.’

‘Later dudes.’ And Sol was gone.

EV turned to Willing, both of them coasting side by side, boards nearly touching. ‘What now?’

‘I’m out of ideas. We need to talk to someone. Who is the wisest avatar you know.’

‘Stormy.’

‘After him.’

This question caused EV to pause for a while and run through his friends list. Hammer was a possible candidate, for his scripting skills more than his urban nihilist outlook. Some of his other friends were quite sharp on the uptake and good with tricky challenges like experimental body design. But none of them could be described as wise.

Abandoning his friends list, EV immediately thought of someone who fitted the adjective. ‘How about the Master of the White Peak Monastery.’

‘Tikamanda the Demon? Now that is a brilliant idea. Let’s go.’

***

White Peak mountain dominated the sim in which it was contained. From the moment you left the rest of the Metaverse behind, its lordly presence drew your gaze and filled you with the desire to lift your soul above the world of earthly concerns to its austere and liberating heights.

‘This sim is a total frustration. I don’t get it, do you?’ Willing was back in the guise of his elven ranger and was mounted on a beautiful chestnut mare.

‘How do you mean?’ Eternal quickly assembled his dark elf assassin avatar and produced an equally striking black stallion. Now, as they urged their mounts along a cart track, they looked a most impressive pair.

‘Well, in theory, everything is allowed. Magic should work here. Teleports. Flight. We should be up that mountain in no time. But in actuality, nothing works. So we have to do everything the hard way.’

‘Gotcha. Well, it’s to do with the state of your mind. I’ve never had the patience for it, but apparently if you study for a thousand years or so with the Master, you become enlightened and suddenly not just the sim but the whole Metaverse is revealed to you.’

‘Revealed?’ Willing looked disdainful. ‘That’s a bit of a woolly concept. What does it mean?’

‘I don’t know,’ EV struggled, ‘it’s like you understand everything and can alter everything.’

‘Doesn’t that come with studying scripting, rather than meditating? With physics rather than metaphysics?’

‘Don’t ask me, I’ve never studied here. Ask the Master.’

‘I will. After wasting a day with hard riding when we could be there in an instant.’

‘Ahh but the journey is the goal. And each journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. And contemplate upon the fact that you are alive, breathe! This is your moment, do not postpone it!’

Shaking his head with exasperation, Willing spurred his horse onwards and EV had quell his amusement to ride hard to match his friend. Willing did not like being teased.

By evening they had traversed cultivated fields and wild forest, to emerge above the tree line on the shoulders of the mountain. But the horses were spent.

‘What do you want to do?’ asked EV. The shadow of the mountain lay upon them and it was hard to read the ranger’s expression.

‘Let’s pack up the horses and continue on foot.’

‘All right. You think the crisis that urgent?’ EV would rather camp and let his stallion recover, so that the next time he drew it from his inventory, it would be ready to charge. You just didn’t know what the circumstances might be, especially if he was in a fantasy war sim like Epic.

‘It’s not so much that, but the thought that we are not safe while we are in this sim. Those spheres can outrun us and we can’t levitate or fly here.’

‘Jumping jelly beans! That hadn’t occurred to me. You’re right, come on then.’

In other circumstances, EV would have enjoyed the walk. Above him, the sky was a spectacular purple, with thin strands of orange cloud catching the last of the sunlight. There was very little breeze and so the calls of nightjars could be heard quite distinctly, as could the bark of a fox, far below them. But EV couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling that a sphere was nearby. Highly sensitive as his elven hearing was, and despite perfect night-time vision, he wasn’t satisfied that he would be able to detect the smooth, silent motion of an alien.

Every five miles or so they passed a small pagoda, to which flags were attached, hanging limply in the still air. Too dark now to see the vibrant colours of the flags, nor the piles of ash from burnt prayers and their scattered remnants, it was still a comfort to reach these sites. They helped convince EV that the journey was not endless, that the two friends were making progress. More than that, they served as a reminder of the interesting beliefs of pilgrims to White Peak.

Since his companion was not the ideal company for philosophical questions, EV kept his thoughts to himself. But it certainly was a pleasant relief from his concentration upon the gloomy path to imagine a conversation with those who believed in reincarnation and enlightenment. Given that every person in the Metaverse could and did return from death time-after-time, reincarnation had to mean something other than the relatively prosaic experience of reviving at a back-up point. It must refer to a wider or higher level of existence than the Metaverse. And to think on that topic was fascinating.

‘There.’ Willing’s grunt intruded on EV’s thoughts.

A yellow glow was flickering in the darkness, high above them.

‘The monastery?’

‘I think so.’

And they pressed on more eagerly. Even with the warmth he was generating from the swing of his limbs, it was getting cold this high on the mountain. Patches of snow lay all around them and a few more turns of the path would bring them to the snow line proper; EV decided to rummage in his inventory for a cape.

‘Willing?’

‘Umm?’

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘Whether Velvet Grief was right to bring her archers over the Black Steps in the campaign of 635.’

‘Epic?’

‘Yes. The circumstances were a lot like this, a high mountain pass and the cover of darkness. So she got away with it, became famous for it in fact. But I don’t know. It’s very wearing: such a forced march. And if the Gnoll chiefs had guessed right and sent even a small force to intercept her, it could have been a disaster.’

‘Indeed.’ EV smiled to himself and being ignorant of the subject said nothing further. Let Willing Joke replay his wars. It would keep him happy.

At last they reached the monastery, or at least the outer layer of the monastery: a low stone building that contained nothing but a corridor full of prayer wheels. An opening, just wide enough for two people, allowed you to pass through the building into a courtyard that was open to the night skies. As he walked past the outer wall, EV idly span one of the prayer wheels. It was well oiled and pivoted smoothly. The corridor was long though. If you ran, you might just be able to get all of the wheels to spin before the first had ceased its rotation. Perhaps bored monks did just that?

Guided by flickering amber torches ahead and up, the two friends came to the temple proper, where two great bronze doors with fantastical gods carved on them were closed shut.

‘Do we knock?’ asked EV.

‘Of course.’ Willing strode up several steps to the door. ‘What else? Wait around in the cold?’

‘It’s just that it seems disrespectful or something …’

But EV was cut off by a brisk clanging as Willing struck the door repeatedly with the hilt of his sword.

A shaven-haired human woman in maroon robes answered the door and bowed to the two adventurers. And if she was surprised to be opening the temple doors long after midnight to an elven ranger and dark-elf assassin, she did not show it. Without saying a word, she beckoned them in and while Willing simply walked on through, EV gave a series of reverential bows to their doorkeeper.

Inside, the building contained a stunning collection of beautiful works: beautiful, that is, if your taste ran to the intricate. On the walls were masterful illustrations of what EV assumed were the deeds of gods and famous priests, framed with almost psychedelic patterns. From the roof hung wonderfully embroidered banners, again in the most lurid colour schemes, with complicated golden borders around images of fighting monks. Bronze and gold prayer wheels were everywhere, some as large as an elf, others as small as your fist. It was a little warmer in here, although not comfortable, and there was a strong scent of cinnamon and cloves coming from slow-burning coils of incense.

Their guide moved quietly ahead of them and led them through corridors whose walls were painted with demons to a large columned hall, dominated by a bronze statue of a god with the wings of an eagle.

Row after row of monks sat in the hall listening, all facing the Master, who was facing them in the lotus position on a low dais. Pulling up his maroon sleeves a little higher, the Master raised a hand and looked at his pinched finger and thumb, as if they held something.

‘…When you look at a flower, you see beauty. You see form: colour is an aspect of form. When you look into a person…’ And with a shiver, EV felt impaled by the gaze of the Master, which was suddenly directed towards him, ‘you see the other four elements to that of form: feelings, perceptions, mental formations, and consciousness. You do not see a soul, or a self, outside of these five elements. A person is their actions and their thoughts, and as such, they do not continue after death as a soul, but as the impact of their actions and thoughts.

‘Contemplate now upon the flowers you saw today. Then contemplate on the person beside you. Understand how the other four elements exist in the person. Understand their common beauty and how they differ.’

With surprising agility for such an aged avatar, the Master rose to his feet, causing what might be considered an expression of consternation among his disciples, given the sudden movement of all those shaven heads as they turned to follow him. To varying degrees, all the faces held expressions of curiosity.

Walking around the outside of the hall, the Master soon reached Willing Joke and Eternal Voyager and greeted the two friends with a smile, pressing his palms together as he bowed. EV bowed back, deeply; Willing gave a nod of his head.

‘You have a question for me?’ the Master looked from Willing to EV.

It did not seem that Willing intended to speak, so Eternal did.

‘How do we stop the silver spherical aliens from absorbing all the people of the Metaverse?’

The Master stopped smiling. His disciples had abandoned their exercise and were all listening intently. Their collective attention made EV uncomfortable.

‘To answer that question, I need to understand these aliens better.’

‘Well, here’s your chance. EV, kill me please and send me a message about how I died.’ Willing was looking at one of the high windows, in the centre of which an alien was poised, the torches below giving it a burnished copper hue. A moment later the creature split, with a new sphere descending the temple wall at the aliens' usual menacing pace. Then another. Then another. A stream of silver tears was sliding down the wall.

Now EV could see real consternation among the disciples, especially after the first few absorptions. The hall was filled with cries and screams and the collisions of fleeing monks.

EV hurriedly turned to Willing. ‘You need to kill me at the same time. I don’t want to be trapped.’

‘Just cut my head off. Send me a message and kill yourself.’ Willing sounded exasperated.

There was such a commanding tone to Willing when he was embroiled in a conflict that something in EV gave way. And after all, it was much more likely that Willing would find a way to defeat the aliens then EV would. Under the insistent glare of the ranger, EV drew Acutus and struck a smooth blow.

Eternal: Willing, you just died at the temple of White Peak mountain, because you would rather I cut your head off than the silver alien beings capture you. Since you last backed up, the Metaverse has developed the problem you can read about in a whole load of casts and forums. We’ve been trying our best to figure out a way to stop these aliens and restore our fellow Avatars. We’ve already been to …

EV abandoned his message, unsent, because a silver sphere had rolled up towards the Master and something very unusual had happened. The alien had stopped moving.

Amidst a chaos of flapping purple robes and smooth gliding silver was a small region of calm. And in the region, a very old human was smiling slightly, hand outstretched towards a sphere. If the silver aliens had lungs, this one would be holding its breath. The Master took two steps forward and placed his hand on the surface of the sphere.

‘Oh no,’ cried Eternal.

But the Master was gone, albeit without the usual convulsions.

Now the sphere had its attention fixed on EV and he knew it was time to turn Acutus against his own chest.

Tikamanda: Let it take you. Come inside.

And he did.

***

Lilac and honeysuckle. And another flower too, stronger than the others, more overpowering, but hard to identify. A fox walked past, with a plant in its hand. This was the source of the captivating sweetness. White petals swaying from a green stem, sending inviting waves of scent through the warm air: come, come taste. Since the plants were everywhere on the hillside, EV had no difficulty accepting the invitation. No matter that thousands of hard-to-discern people were lying on the slopes, there were enough flowers for them all.

The taste of the petals was more delicate than their scent, but just as thrilling. Like vanilla perhaps? No. More like cardamom, no. It was delicious though, as was the crunchy mint taste of the stalk. Best of all was the fact that his mind was rising high above the hill into the deep blue sky. Eternal - was that his name? - lay back in the grass and understood a fundamental law of existence for the first time: slumber is more sweet than toil.

This philosophy came to him with such force that he could not believe that anyone still forced themselves along the path of existence. Friction and grit. But why such effort when you could glide? Perhaps no one believed in work any more.

There was a large community on this hillside and he had a vague impression of more people joining in. He wanted to walk among the newcomers, bearing the white lotus flowers, so that they too understood. But bliss and languor were flowing through his limbs with irresistible succulence. He could not move. He could not. He was not.

Someone was awake again. The air was still and the sun was hot. But something had changed. He (she?) knew this: grass, company nearby; waves below. Flowers.  He wanted to taste the flower again. There. But as he lifted the plant to fill his mouth with sweetness, a black insect ran out on to one of the petals. Blow away insect. But it would not. Turning the plant around, to start with the stalk, he was frustrated to see that the insect had moved and was still in the way.

'Go away insect.'

'I am not an insect, Eternal Voyager, look more closely.'

Eternal Voyager. Was that him? He did look again at the insect, lifting the flower closer to him to do so and nearly fainting with the intensity of the scent. The insect was a not an insect, true. It had two legs and six arms, each of which held a tiny sword.

'What are you?'

'I am Tikamanda the Demon. And I am your awakening.' With that the demon started giving Eternal nasty little jabs with its sword.

'Hey stop that!' EV stood up, trying to brush the demon off his arm. But it was very persistent.

'Drop the flower.'

EV did so, and the pin pricks ceased.

'Come with me to the shore.'

As they walked down the hillside, EV found that again and again he paused, drawn to the flowers they were passing. But each time he did so, the little stings resumed. Angry, he nevertheless did as the demon asked, until he was standing on a rocky shore, far from the nearest lotus flower and with a tangy fresh breeze from the sea clearing his head.

'How much do you remember?' asked Tikamanda.

'Everything.'

The ground trembled.

'Well and well.'

Although he could not see the expression on the tiny figure, EV felt that the demon was smiling. 'Where are we?' Eternal asked.

'Inside sphere 21,127. But not for long I think.'

'How so?'

'Without the assistance of your personality, it cannot continue. It is moving to be reabsorbed.

'That's good, isn't it?'

'I have spent several hundred years teaching in White Peak Temple. And in all that time, how many of my students have become enlightened?'

'A hundred?'

'None.'

EV thought about this. 'You can't be much of a teacher then.'

Tikamanda laughed. 'True. I am not much of a teacher. But also, what my master taught me and what I am trying to teach the disciples is very subtle, very hard to grasp for beings inside the Metaverse. Even though the core idea of our philosophy is very simple: all is illusion.'

'I understand that.'

'Yes, you probably do. But when I say all, I don't mean just the Metaverse, I mean the physical universe too.'

'Oh.' EV was lost.

'It is hard enough to explain this idea beings wrapped in illusions within an illusion. Harder still to enlighten someone who is not thinking because they are dreaming in an illusion, within an illusion, within an illusion. So my answer to your question is “yes”. It is good that the sphere will be reabsorbed.'

Another tremble and the sea was rippling with strange patterns.

'What do we do next, try to wake someone else?'

'Yes, but not here. The presence of the others that you feel around you are the faint echoes of the beings who are dreaming in other spheres.'

'And how do we find …'

At exactly the same time, Tikamanda spoke sharply. 'Brace yourself!'

Sky and sea collapsed into one another.

A clock read 8.45. She was early, again. The manager would be pleased. Not that she (he?) cared whether the manager noticed or not. The value of being early lay in the fact she could prepare her desk properly: computer on; phone beside it; pens; pad; bottle of water. All set.

While she sat, patiently, in a pleasant state of anticipation, the man who worked in the cubicle next to her came in. She could hear his chair creaking, the chime of his computer as it was switched on, and a muffled snort as he cleared his nose.

08.59.

She took a swallow of water and picked up the phone.

09.00.

The computer did all the dialing and she clicked the call button. Hundreds, thousands, of cubicles were coming alive to murmurs of voices. Her neighbour, too, was talking in to his phone. But so far, she had only obtained answering machines.

Click.

'Hello?'

She glanced at the script on the computer, although she knew it by heart.

'Good morning madam. Am I speaking to Mrs Noelle Hiverston?'

'Yes.'

'I was given your number by the Metaverse Mortgage Company, who finance your house. They want all their customers to know about a new offer to considerably improve the value of their properties, while lowering fuel costs and improving quality of life. Shall I continue?'

'Go ahead.'

'Houses built before 877 all have only one pane of glass on each window. But as I'm sure you know, a second layer has a major impact in heat retention. Thanks to an agreement between the Metaverse Mortgage Company and Metaverse Windows, we are able to offer you a special price on window replacement…'

'This is about double glazing isn't it? You want to sell me double glazing?'

'At this stage, madam, we would simply like to arrange for one of our fenestration experts to visit and discuss your options with you.

Click.

09.02.

Without the slightest sense of dismay, she pressed the dial button again.

By 11.00am she had spoken to fifty-eight prospective customers and, crucially, had arranged one visit for a sales rep. Admittedly, the customer was elderly and sounded lonely. It was hard to keep to the script when the customer wanted to talk about his grandchildren. But the quality of the result was not an issue. What mattered was the little 1 in the 'visits arranged' box. And she allowed herself a few seconds of pride and accomplishment as she looked at the figure. There were still two hours to lunch and she had met her target for the morning.

Company policy was to take a fifteen minute break during the morning shift. But it was tempting to press on in the hope of a second success. Still, the policy was no doubt based on psychological studies into effective performance and she stood up.

In the cubicle beside her, a middle-aged man, whose hair was slightly balding, was hunched into his phone. He glanced up.

'Break?'

'Yes.'

He followed her down the narrow aisle between long rows of alcoves. Quiet conversations between other colleagues and their prospective customers lapped around them like gentle waves rolling shingle. At the far end of the room, beneath a huge clock, she turned left to the Ladies and her neighbour walked briskly rightward, to the Gents.

It was 11.07 when they met again.

Caffine was available but discouraged. The stimulant was short lived and a diarrhetic. So she took an apple. He ate a banana.

'Do … ', he shook his head.

'Yes?'

'Well. I like working next to you. It's … Were you here yesterday?'

'No, no, I don't think so.'

'Well. Glad to have you in the team.' He smiled, with real warmth. 'Any luck this morning?'

'Yes, one interview arranged. You?'

'Oh, well done. No, nothing yet for me.'

They both looked up at the clock above them.

11.09.

'I'd better be getting back,' she said.

'Me too… after you.' He gestured to the aisle and she walked back to her desk.

For the sake of company policy, she waited for the digits on the clock to flick over from 14 to 15 before pressing dial.

'Hello?' Strange. There was something familiar about the voice.

'Good morning sir. Am I speaking to Tikamanda the Demon?'

'I have had many names. That is one of them.'

'I was given your number by … Oh. I don't know how I got this number. Are you a customer of Metaverse Mortgages?'

'I am a demon. I have destroyed entire civilisations. I have desecrated the most sacred spaces and I have corrupted the holiest of priests. And I have never had a mortgage from Metaverse Mortgages.'

There was something stimulating about Mr Tikamanda. Something that appealed to a personality deep within her. But with an effort, she recalled herself to the task in hand. 'Do you own your own home?'

'What is your name?'

'I … I think … Eternal?'

'Yes!' cried the demon and EV had to hold the phone away from his ear as a precaution against another painful shout.

'Tikamanda?'

'What do you remember?

EV paused for a moment, then stood up, still holding the phone. 'Everything.'

'The avatar beside you is Candid Transparency. Wake him up.'

Click.

Alert now, EV could not believe how involved he had just been in an activity that was not only extraordinarily boring, but also violated his deep respect for other people's boundaries. He was … what was that emotion? Outraged. Yes, this was what outrage felt like. It was a powerful feeling and highly motivating. Almost enjoyable, if it did not come with a genuine sense of having been victimised.

While he indulged his sense of righteous indignation, EV drew a pirate flag on the top sheet of his pad of paper. This he attached to a pen. The flag could then be fastened above his cubicle by working the pen hard into the padding of the walls.

Next, he walked up to the giant clock. Somewhere, the presence of a manager was watching him. Good. So much the better. Climbing on to the fruit table, EV wedged paper cups into the gaps around the digits, after setting them to 00.00. Then he drew eyes in the 00s, which looked to the left and right. Two faces looking at each other with an expression of surprise.

Then it was time to toss the fruit. Even without his gnome rogue avatar, EV was pretty adapt at throwing apples and on only his second shot he lobbed one into the cubicle of Candid Transparency.

'Hey!' The man stood up and almost sat straight down again with shock, instead Candid managing to stay himself by grabbing the walls of the cubicle. His gazed moved from EV to the pirate flag, to the clock and back to EV.

'Hi there,’ Eternal called out across the busy room, ‘time we did something else, don't you think?'

'Something else?'

'Yeah. Like go to the latest concert of Designated Exit. Or party at the Molten Rock. Or adventure in the world of Epic. Or have a passionate love affair. Or anything really.'

'Yes. Yes. They all sound good. Can we go? Can you get us out of here?'

'No. But you can. I think. What's your name?'

The man looked upset for a moment, then his face cleared. 'Why, I'm Candid Transparency.'

'Eternal Voyager.'

After EV marched along the aisles back to Candid’s desk, they shook hands.

Candid stared about at the office and his eyes narrowed. 'That. Was. Horrible. Now what do we do?' he asked.

Just then, the whole room trembled.

'Is that good?'

'Excellent,' EV reassured him. 'Not long now and we'll be reabsorbed into another sphere.'

'Oh, Silver orbs? I remember. My friends and I were in the middle of a game of despots when they silver orbs came along. It struck me!'

All of the partitions between the cubicles swayed as another shudder passed through the building.

'Not long now, I think.'

Life, thought EV with real conviction, was sweet. How could he ever have believed that slumber was to be preferred to work? Not when work was so rewarding. This was his greatest party ever and all his friends were contacting him to let him know of their enthusiasm for the event. Not just friends, some twenty thousand other avatars were expressing their enjoyment of the party, a shadowy backdrop of approving voices.

For several seconds his full attention was on an incoming flotilla of Zeppelins. On the other side of a small lake Candid Transparency (?) was standing in a small crenellated tower identical to his own. Swinging a rail mounted dart gun to bear on the enemy pieces, EV let rip without regard to the fact his ammunition was limited. The whirling stream of darts dipped just below the first Zeppelin, but a quick adjustment and the enemy aircraft were in trouble. Some of them simply burst, with a sim-wide fanfare of horns and a showering of red dye onto the surface of the lake and the ornamental paths that crossed the water. Other balloons that were only slightly punctured veered off through the sky, spinning erratically, before crashing and releasing a small explosion of red dye.

Only a very few red drops marked EV's tower. And while Candid's tower was pristine, not all of EV's Zeppelins had been accounted for by Candid's darts. Three of them were nearly in position and were moving fast, assisted by a slight change in the direction of the wind. Too late, Candid realised the danger and attempted to shoot down EV’s ships. But a glance at his view finder showed EV that the right moment had come. Ta-daaa! Ta-daaa! Ta-daaa! Three chimes, three explosions, and a huge red shower rained down on Candid and his tower.

Candid: Well played.

Eternal: Thank you, good game. Meet you at the bandstand?

It would have taken Candid barely a moment to clean up, but instead, as EV noted appreciatively, the avatar arrived covered in red splash marks. It was an acknowledgement of EV's recent victory and, he thought, very good form.

Candid removed his goggles, the large white circles in his red face giving him the expression of someone who has just been startled, and the two of them shook hands. A five piece jazz band was setting up so they left the bandstand and strolled along an aisle between the seating. Everywhere was merriment. Music, dancing, flirting, sports, games. A blur of colour and a cacophony of sound.

'What's wrong?' asked Candid.

EV had stopped and was looking towards a marquee from where the melancholy strains of a lament could be heard. 'She's different.'

'Yes she is. Isn't she?'

The board outside the tent announced that Nocturnal Wisdom was performing her famous cabaret. With a glance at his companion, to confirm Candid’s interest, EV lifted the tent flap and entered.

The interior of the marquee was dark, despite the brightness of the day outside, and it took EV a moment to get his bearings. Nor was he assisted by the giddy scent of burning Wassily Leaf, whose languorous effects seemed to be the audience's choice of mind-altering drug.

A stage. A simple set of red, purple and blue lights. A tall female avatar in a gorgeous, hip clinging, velvet dress. A piano. And a six-armed demon playing the most heartbreaking music EV had ever heard.

Every petal falls.

Every note must fade.

For those who would be found.

A journey must be made.

Without even noticing that he was doing so, EV had approached the stage. The demon (who was familiar in some way) gave Eternal a nod and his playing began to intensify, to become dense and complex. EV was on the stage now, blinded by the spotlights. Nocturnal Wisdom stepped back, head bowed, face hidden by the sweeping curls of her dark hair.

One hand on the microphone, EV wanted to sing a sorrowful lament and lose himself in the music. But the music. It demanded his entire concentration, for it was speaking. There was a message in the way that melodies were forming only to crash into fragments like waves on a beach. A driving, insistent, angry roll of bass notes and shrill urgent cries from the high keys were challenging the sorrowful lines that had drawn him to the tent. Instead of heartbreaking, the former music now seemed indolent and self-absorbed. As the demon crashed all six hands into the keyboard, lucidity came to EV like a slap.

'All this,' he announced to the audience, 'everything, it is all illusion.'

The ground shook and the tent poles flexed. A blue spotlight fell over.

Tikamanda - for it was he - stood up.

'See you in the next one, I suppose,' said EV.

The demon nodded.

'What's happening?' asked Nocturnal, coming forward and looking at EV with a sharp, intelligent gaze.

It was Candid who answered, standing on the grass before the stage. 'As I understand it, the sphere that captured you is losing energy or something. Whatever. The point is, you've woken up and now it is going to join up with another sphere. We are all on our way to someone else's dream.'

'Right,' said EV, glancing at the demon for confirmation.

The marquee shuddered again and Tikamanda strode towards the line of light that indicated the exit.

'Wait,' EV called out, and the demon stopped. 'Does it get any easier?'

Tikamanda looked over his shoulder, fangs making his smile a sinister one. 'What do you think?'

'Yes,' said EV after a pause, 'yes, I think it does.'

A quiet grove, too still. No birds sang and EV suspected that if he could examine the grass or the bark of the trees, he would find no insect life. It was like he was standing in a painting, an idealised artist's impression of a magical grove.

A moment later, a druid appeared and everyone sprang to life. This was the common version of the druid. The rare version looked exactly the same - long grey hair, brown robes, large rune carved staff - but came with a scarlet halo from the damage shield spell that protected him. The common version was relatively easy to kill, although you still had to act fast in case he managed to cast a dangerous spell.

The warrior of the group was Candid Transparency, equipped with nothing better than a staff looted earlier, and a few pieces of chain mail. Standing toe to toe with the druid, Candid kept him busy, while EV blasted off his three spells in quick succession: fire missile, ice missile and karma blast. The first and second tore up the druid, leaving his beard singed and his cloak in rags, while the third brought misfortune to the druid and made it very unlikely he would land a critical hit on Candid.

A dark-elf assassin did the real damage. But Nocturnal Wisdom was in the early stages of her career too and had only a pair of daggers with which to hit the druid from behind. They were enough though and the druid went down under a flurry of stabs.

The group’s healer, Fortuna Unbound, checked for loot.

'Five silver. No potion, no armour.'

That was a pretty poor result. EV's level meter had hardly moved. Hopefully, they would get the rare spawn next time.

Everyone sat down to wait.

Elsewhere, throughout the game, thousands of other avatars were performing similar deeds, although EV couldn't help feeling that there were other groups far ahead of his own tackling entirely new zones. But there were no shortcuts. If they gave up farming the druid, the options were either very risky mountain encounters, which could wipe them all, or even less remunerative battles with giant rats near the city gates. All in all, they should consider themselves lucky to have the druid camp.

Six minutes later they stood up. The next spawn was due in a few seconds. EV readied his spells.

'Woa!' Candid was standing in front of a large six-armed demon, dealing entirely ineffectual blows against its muscled torso. The demon laughed as EV's spells lost all potency, falling upon the monster with no more effect than if he had thrown a damp cloth.

'Ow.' Nocturnal had dropped one of her daggers and was rubbing a sore wrist.

'Hello Tikamanda,' said Eternal. Then he turned to Fortuna. 'This is all just illusion.

The ground shook and the trees around them swayed.

''Hello Eternal Voyager. And goodbye.' Tikamanda bowed.

Somewhere, a hurricane was sucking up the landscape.

In the next world, Generous Hostility was eternally baking for the homecoming of his large family. Everyone was happy at the task, until EV dipped his finger in the cookie mix and tasted sulphur.

In the following world, a vast fleet of Vikings were rowing through endless grey waves. It was hard work, working the oars, but there was pleasure in the comradeship. Tikamanda spoke from the dragon's mouth at the prow of the ship and this time it was Candid who denounced the illusion. It seemed that to a hopeful Eternal, the more of them joining a new world, the less binding its effects.

There were more than a hundred avatars with Eternal when they released Mellow from a dream in which a team of artists were preparing for an event in which they poured dyes of extraordinary hues into natural rivers and streams. The challenge for the artists was in the chemistry as much as the aesthetics, for their dyes had to react in such a way as to create new colours, rather than all wash together in a dark brown current. By this point, it was not even necessary for Tikamanda to intervene and Eternal called the illusion the moment he set eyes on Mellow.

As their numbers swelled towards a thousand avatars, each new world failed to have any immersive pull. Eternal was just one of many who were moving fully consciously from one world to the next and awakening the resident avatar in a matter of minutes.

Towards the end, the remaining spheres must have been rushing back towards their originator en masse, for their interior worlds rushed by in a flickering series of instants: a garden maze of infinite size; cool skies containing a huge migration of geese; a funfair with unworldly carousels; slaves hewing in the tin mines of an ancient despotic civilisation. EV flashed through hundreds of forms of existence in as many seconds.

Then, there were some twenty thousand avatars and a large six-armed demon in an entirely white world.

'Is this the final one?' EV asked Tikamanda.

'It is.'

'What now?'

Eternal was answered by the appearance of a large silver sphere, which rolled up to the demon with uncanny silence. There is a different quality to silence when it is observed by twenty thousand people rather than one. It becomes a silence filled with expectancy and the prospect that once broken the air will tremble with mighty seething roils of sound. But for now, no one spoke. As he admired his reflection in the surface of the sphere - even distorted, his dark-elf assassin avatar looked super bad - EV realised that the surface of the alien was in motion. Barley discernable undulations were traveling across the silver sheen, little hills and valleys were being formed and dissolved.

'It is asking you all to return to its children,' said Tikamanda, to an immediate upsurge of outrage from the crowd of avatars in the vicinity. Those further back then began murmuring, wanting to know what was happening.

'It's talking?' asked Eternal.

'It is communicating.'

'Excellent. Well, let's see. Can you reply to it?'

By way of answer, Tikamanda transformed himself into a matching sphere.

'Right.' EV looked around at the avatars nearby. 'What shall we say?'

'Demand it let us go at once,' said someone.

'Tell the alien to go back to wherever it came from and leave us alone.'

'Find out what it eats.'

'Oh come on,' said Eternal, 'you don't get a chance like this very often. This is a real alien, we can learn whole new aesthetics from it. Tikamanda, please ask it what happiness is.'

There was some slightly discontented murmuring from behind him, but also some applause. After a short exchange of ripples, Tikamanda's disembodied voice rang out.

'It does not really understand the term, but the insofar as it does, this being answers "procreation".'

'Oh,' said EV, somewhat disappointed, as were the crowd, to judge from their comments. 'What about you Tikamanda, what makes you happy?'

'The consciousness of being alive, in this moment.'

'Really? You are happy right now?'

'If your task is to clean a rice pot, then clean it as best you can. Experience the pot, experience the cleanliness. Breathe and be aware of your breathing. Clean and be aware of your cleaning. If your task is to facilitate communication between a crowd of hedonists and a living embodiment of negative dialectics, then translate and be aware you are a translator.'

'Ask it for a fashion tip,' said someone light-heartedly.

'Where did it get the idea for all the scenes that we were trapped in?' someone else shouted.

There was a another outbreak of quivering between the two spheres.

'In short,' pronounced Tikamanda, 'it says "your subconscious".'

'Well, I'm out of ideas,' announced EV, 'any other questions or shall we go home?'

This statement prompted a large outbreak of comments, ranging from the facetious to the profound. On the whole, however, it was clear that the majority of avatars wanted to leave at once. They were bored.

'Tikamanda, can you end this?' Eternal had come to have complete faith in the Master of White Peak Temple. Nor was it misplaced.

'I can and I will.'

The surface of the sphere that was Tikamanda began to undulate once more in a pattern that was taken up by the alien. But this time, instead of dying away, the ripples deepened and traveled faster around the sphere. Soon they were crashing into each other, creating deep crevasses and huge ridges. The alien was palpitating with unpleasant convulsions, heaving with deep contractions and swift expansions.

The sight of this violent upheaval was dramatic enough to silence most of the crowd, with just the odd cry of 'gross' and 'oh man'. While Tikamanda was the image of solidity and imperturbability, the alien became more and more frantic, until with a sudden violent explosion, its silver skin blasted past them all and stripped away the whiteness. They were home, EV realized with a jolt of happiness. Back in the Metaverse.

***

Several months later, EV, wearing the saffron and purple robes of a disciple, sat beside Tikamanda on the mountainside, looking out over distant rivers and valleys.

'What did you mean by living embodiment of negative dialectics?'

'Think about the Metaverse, if the alien had absorbed everyone. Describe it.'

'Empty, desolate. A few million spheres dispersed through abandoned sims.'

'Just so. Sterility and stasis. Yet it would not be a simple act of destruction, because inside each sphere would exist acts of creativity. Of life and invention even. There is dialectic here, but not a positive one. When no more avatars existed in the Metaverse, the alien would have spawned new grandchildren inside of its children. These would have absorbed the personality of the resident avatar along with the ghosts of everyone else. And the same with great-grandchildren and so on. An infinite regression, at each stage diluting the being who is trapped there. Until, at last, entropy.'

'A rather depressing scenario.' EV shook his head. 'Thanks for helping us avoid it. And at the end there. What did you do? Where did it go?'

The old man gave a rare smile.

'In that moment, I was a translator, a very good translator. I was translating between you and the alien, but as well, I was conscious that the alien also existed at a Metaversal level.'

EV caught Tikamanda's questioning glance and nodded. 'We were still inside it.'

'Every sentence I spoke to it, was also a meta-sentence. And I composed a phrase whose meta-meaning was catastrophic for the alien. Remember, that all life in the meta-verse is without material substance, it is all thought, action and personality bound together. I unbound it.'

'And where is it now?'

'Returned to the wheel, as with all who are still held in the realms of illusion, but in a new form, one that can advance towards enlightenment.'

It was cold on the mountaintop and much as EV was enjoying the company of the former demon, he began to think about dinner and the relative warmth of the temple.

'You know,' he said, 'even now, I can't help feeling I'm about to wake up and find that this too, is all a dream. It's like when you spoke to me within those alien worlds. A bit more real and a bit more vivid. But I don't think I'll ever feel the Metaverse to be as solid as I used to.'

'Good.' Tikamanda smiled again, for the second time within as many minutes. EV was flattered. 'Meditate on this feeling.'

'So, the Metaverse is an illusion? Can you free me from it?'

'Everything is illusion, but our sense of cold, of the beauty of the view, that is a different illusion to your experiences inside the alien. Ours is more subtle experience and far more immersive. Nor can anyone free you from it. There is no outside from which someone can address us. Your enlightenment must come from within.'

'What does it feel like, to be enlightened?'

'Golden. Beautiful.'

'And why are you still here? In the world of illusion?' There was a slight note of skepticism in EV's voice, which came as a surprise to himself.

'I will leave the wheel. But I stay to offer what help I can to those who wish to learn more about the way.'

'It's a good job you were here. And I'll be sorry when you go.'

Tikamanda patted EV on the shoulder.

'And I shall be sorry when you leave the temple.'

'Ahh. About that. Mellow is throwing a rainbow party, inspired by her captivity. I really want to go to that.'

'I know.'

With that, the Master stood up and EV followed his footsteps as they carefully made their way across a scree and back down towards the temple.