To my left, House von Hasenberg’s stone-and-crystal skyscraper defied physics but made for a pretty building. On my main account, I “owned” an entire floor of that building. I used it for the occasional long-distance meeting, but I, too, preferred face-to-face appointments.
Today I was logged in as Fenix, one of my anonymous accounts. This avatar was a tall, busty redhead with matching red cat ears, wearing a black corset and black leather pants, complete with a high, giggly voice. Everyone assumed I was a man in real life, an assumption I protested too loudly and too often.
Avatars had to be approximately human-sized but were otherwise only limited by the user’s imagination, so all manner of creatures inhabited HIVE. A blue mermaid wearing a sparkly silver bikini top swam by, despite the fact that we were nowhere near water. Realism was optional in HIVE, and users competed to have the most interesting and unique avatars.
“HIVE,” I said, “transport to Nadia’s bar.”
“Transporting to saved location 172b.217r6.2a2w,” a female computer voice responded. The projection flickered then shifted to reveal a narrow brick alley ending in a wall with a single black door. Unlike most locations in HIVE, this alley wasn’t connected to the rest of the zone. Only users with the exact address could visit, and the address updated frequently, so random users couldn’t just wander in.
I lifted my right hand and held it palm down over the desk, then leaned forward very slightly. The motion trackers in the room captured the position of my hands and the movement of my body. This particular combination meant I wanted to move forward, toward the door.
There were several ways to move in HIVE, but once you got the hang of leaning, it required the least amount of effort. I’d set the hand gesture as a requirement because I tended to move around while I talked and I didn’t want my avatar walking into walls in the middle of a conversation.
When the door was right in front of me, projected over my desk, I reached out and pressed on an invisible button, about chest high and left of center. It took a couple of tries before I hit the right location because it was a little more difficult without force gloves to provide tactile feedback. Finally, a click indicated success and the scene changed.
Nadia’s bar was dim and smoky, with wood-paneled walls and dark leather furniture. A long mahogany bar ran down the left side of the room. In the middle of the room, groupings of low chairs were separated by generous empty space, ensuring privacy. And Nadia’s regulars all had shrouded alcoves along the right side of the room.
I knew something was wrong as soon as the scene loaded. Normally the bar buzzed with muted conversation as information flowed. Today, however, the soft jazz background music was the only sound.
A few users sat in a sullen cluster in the center of the room, shackles around their wrists. I saw a catgirl, a big green something, a blue lizard man, and more. They must be new, because experienced users would abandon an avatar as soon as it was clear they couldn’t defeat the security measures. Better to lose an account than give the authorities time to track down your real location.
Nadia stood behind the bar, her stunning sable skin set off to perfection by an off-the-shoulder aqua dress. Her avatar looked entirely human, a purposeful choice designed to engender trust. She didn’t even glance my way, but thanks to the magic of technology, she whispered in my ear, “House raid. Get out now, if you can.”
“I need information,” I whispered back.
“I will reopen tomorrow. The new location will be posted in the usual places. But my regulars will be scared off for a day or two.”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.”
“If you get free, meet me here in ten,” she whispered. An address popped up and I saved it.
She blinked out of existence as a man stepped out of the farthest alcove. I squinted through the hazy air, but, unfortunately, I’d recognize him anywhere. Ian Bishop moved my way in his official avatar. At least now I knew where he got some of his better information. Too bad he couldn’t have waited another twenty minutes.
“Who are you?” he asked me.
“Who are you?”
“Ian Bishop, House von Hasenberg security.” He held out his hand but I made no move to take it. Instead, I held my left hand out, palm down. My avatar didn’t move, but it brought up my supplemental menu. I had a feeling I was going to need it sooner than I’d prefer.
The room twisted, glitching as HIVE tried to handle whatever destruction Nadia had kicked off on her way out. She was probably trying to wipe the whole damn bar. My admiration for her went up.
It was odd, looking directly into Ian’s eyes. My avatar was the same height as his, and the projectors in the room mapped the projected image to my actual height, so the point of view would be correct. Ian’s avatar was as perfect as I would expect from a House representative. He looked exactly like himself.
“Well,” I said after a long pause, “I suppose since you’ve killed the buzz, I’ll be on my way. Nice meeting you, security man.”
“Not so fast. I have some questions.” He raised his right hand and shackles appeared around my wrists, called into existence by the zone admin security scripts. He would also be trying to track my real location. He held out his left hand and the room stabilized slightly, though the edges kept fading away.
I didn’t even need my extra scripts for this level of restraint. I laughed and pulled my hands apart. The digital shackles snapped in half and disappeared, defeated by my standard security settings.
Ian’s expression flashed to annoyance and I couldn’t hide my grin. Before he could try again with something more substantial, I blew him a kiss, then swiped my left hand through the exit script on my supplemental menu.
The projection flickered as the script jumped me through five random locations. It wasn’t exactly stock functionality, but I’d spent enough time in HIVE to have found a few tricks. I ended up in what looked like someone’s living room. Luckily it was unoccupied and no one questioned my presence.
I checked the location Nadia had sent me. Like the bar, it wasn’t in the standard zone map. I’d be going in blind. I’d known Nadia—as far as two highly secretive, anonymous people in a virtual world could know each other—for five years, and she’d never betrayed me. That didn’t mean that today wouldn’t be the day she would start, but I felt confident enough to risk it.
“HIVE, transport to saved location eight.”
“Transporting to saved location 208a.080m3.1q5y,” the computer said.
The projection wavered, then solidified into a cozy sitting room with pale peach walls and sleek charcoal furniture. A quick glance around revealed that there were no doors. Nadia sat curled up in an overstuffed chair in front of a roaring fireplace. She gestured at the chair next to her.
I directed my avatar to sit and the projection’s perspective shifted again so we were at eye level even though I remained standing in real life.
“You escaped,” she said.
“I did. Thank you for the distraction. He was too busy trying to stabilize the room to try anything too serious.”
“What information is so important that you’d risk a House raid to get it?”
“Likely the same information that caused the raid in the first place,” I said carefully. “I have a client who is very interested in Ferdinand von Hasenberg’s disappearance.”