her plans to graduate from college and skip all of her boring classes through the skillful application of Synaptic Derivation.
When they entered the garden that connected the Art buildings with the Theatre the scent hanging in the night air became intoxicating. They could see the trees that bordered the garden along the walk were blooming with large cream-colored flowers that glowed in the moonlight attracting moths and other night insects.
“These trees are so beautiful” Dolly remarked.
Franklin read the placard that was nailed to the thorny trunk of the fourth tree they passed.
“Erythrina Caffra, Coral Tree, South Africa” He said.
The moonlit flowers and heady fragrance were enough romance for Dolly. She kissed Franklin wetly on the mouth and together they settled into the dark lawn of the garden. Dolly removed Franklin’s shirt and he felt the itchy moist grass on his back. Next Dolly removed her blouse; her soft skin gently glowed in the moonlight like the flower of a South African Coral tree.
Anand was lost in his own reverie and did not notice that Franklin was distracted from the monologue.
Franklin refocused his attention on Anand’s story in time to catch the last few sentences. Anand said,
“It was innocent, it was natural. Each of us securely situated in a remote Synap Suit at different ends of the lab; we were breaking no rules. We had discovered a loop-hole in morality. Guilt, responsibility, obligation were gone in an instant. Passion and playfulness were all that remained. At that moment I felt that we had built a great gift for mankind. Something transcendent.
Sadhna and I eventually untangled our hosts from each other and from the brambles of the garden. Our hosts were naked on the grass below an exotic tree with odd bark and large leaves. It was a unique experience; I can still smell the wetness of the grass and feel the rough branches and sharp thorns of the tree.
I remember feeling so acutely the cool when we were in the shade of those broad leaves and the warmth of Sahdna’s host body. The sun was starting to set and it was time to get back to the lab. As we dressed, Sahdna assured me that while under a strong dose of Somnambutol a volunteer Synapse host would not remember anything that occurred while we had control of their bodies. The streets of the college town had grown dark. We did not speak on the walk home. She held my hand, or her host held hands with my host. It was tender. I think she felt safe and at ease. I felt strong, protective and virile.
When I “synapped-off” there was an urgent message waiting for me from Christopher Mark. Six hours later, I was on a flight from LAX on route to Shanghai. Real world violence had erupted at Wild West Alive.
“We had an unfortunate incident at Wild West Alive.”
- Al McKnight
Chapter 7
The control room at the factory was a conglomeration of blinking displays and monitors. There were no windows to allow the entry of natural light and the green-blue gleam from the multitude of monitors over powered the white light from the overhead fluorescents. Therefore the room and all of it s occupants all had an unnatural off-blue pallor. Each control room station was setup to monitor the status of the players experience into Wild West Alive and the status of their selected hosts. The monitors were never intended to keep track of the activities of rogue hosts or kidnapped girls. The view of the events unfolding in Squabash, while sitting in the main control room and only twelve miles from the action, was essentially no different than any player who was Synapped in to control a host and thereby watching from the perspective of one of the rogue cowboys.
On the primary display, Henry , Anand’s lead technician on-site at WWA , continually clicked between various hosts who were positioned in different locations throughout Squabash in an effort to gain an improved
When they entered the garden that connected the Art buildings with the Theatre the scent hanging in the night air became intoxicating. They could see the trees that bordered the garden along the walk were blooming with large cream-colored flowers that glowed in the moonlight attracting moths and other night insects.
“These trees are so beautiful” Dolly remarked.
Franklin read the placard that was nailed to the thorny trunk of the fourth tree they passed.
“Erythrina Caffra, Coral Tree, South Africa” He said.
The moonlit flowers and heady fragrance were enough romance for Dolly. She kissed Franklin wetly on the mouth and together they settled into the dark lawn of the garden. Dolly removed Franklin’s shirt and he felt the itchy moist grass on his back. Next Dolly removed her blouse; her soft skin gently glowed in the moonlight like the flower of a South African Coral tree.
Anand was lost in his own reverie and did not notice that Franklin was distracted from the monologue.
Franklin refocused his attention on Anand’s story in time to catch the last few sentences. Anand said,
“It was innocent, it was natural. Each of us securely situated in a remote Synap Suit at different ends of the lab; we were breaking no rules. We had discovered a loop-hole in morality. Guilt, responsibility, obligation were gone in an instant. Passion and playfulness were all that remained. At that moment I felt that we had built a great gift for mankind. Something transcendent.
Sadhna and I eventually untangled our hosts from each other and from the brambles of the garden. Our hosts were naked on the grass below an exotic tree with odd bark and large leaves. It was a unique experience; I can still smell the wetness of the grass and feel the rough branches and sharp thorns of the tree.
I remember feeling so acutely the cool when we were in the shade of those broad leaves and the warmth of Sahdna’s host body. The sun was starting to set and it was time to get back to the lab. As we dressed, Sahdna assured me that while under a strong dose of Somnambutol a volunteer Synapse host would not remember anything that occurred while we had control of their bodies. The streets of the college town had grown dark. We did not speak on the walk home. She held my hand, or her host held hands with my host. It was tender. I think she felt safe and at ease. I felt strong, protective and virile.
When I “synapped-off” there was an urgent message waiting for me from Christopher Mark. Six hours later, I was on a flight from LAX on route to Shanghai. Real world violence had erupted at Wild West Alive.
“We had an unfortunate incident at Wild West Alive.”
- Al McKnight
Chapter 7
The control room at the factory was a conglomeration of blinking displays and monitors. There were no windows to allow the entry of natural light and the green-blue gleam from the multitude of monitors over powered the white light from the overhead fluorescents. Therefore the room and all of it s occupants all had an unnatural off-blue pallor. Each control room station was setup to monitor the status of the players experience into Wild West Alive and the status of their selected hosts. The monitors were never intended to keep track of the activities of rogue hosts or kidnapped girls. The view of the events unfolding in Squabash, while sitting in the main control room and only twelve miles from the action, was essentially no different than any player who was Synapped in to control a host and thereby watching from the perspective of one of the rogue cowboys.
On the primary display, Henry , Anand’s lead technician on-site at WWA , continually clicked between various hosts who were positioned in different locations throughout Squabash in an effort to gain an improved
Similar Books
Deadly Affair: SCVC Taskforce World Novella (SCVC Taskforce Romantic Suspense Series Book 5)
Misty Evans, Amy Manemann
