There Ain't No Justice Number 023

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO" OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO' OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO" OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO' OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO |-----------------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | There Ain't No Justice | | | | #23 | | | |-----------------------------------------------------------------------------| - A Mind's Eye View of Paradise - by Spartacus Chetter was surrounded. He could see evil eyes peering around the rocks at him, feel the chill sensation of being watched from behind. He held his crossbow at ready, his trigger finger tensed in anticipation of the battle to come. He'd be damned if he'd go down without a fight. A crude trumpet sounded, and they all charged at once. As he fired an arrow into an attacker's eye, Chetter detatchedly identified them as kobolds. Before he could reload his weapon they were nearly upon him. He drew his sword and hacked away, but there were too many of them. The chief kobold watched with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as the human was hacked to pieces. The reward would be worth the loss of a few warriors. The words "Game Over" flashed before Chetter's eyes. He thought to himself, "Damn...and I was doing so well that time." He found himself in a circular room with powder-blue walls. Four tall doors were set into the wall, one in each cardinal direction. They were marked "Edit Character", "Begin Campaign", "Combat Room", and "Exit". Chetter decided on the exit door. He floated out of the pink glowing cube that was Dungeonworld. Various smooth and faceted shapes of various colors and textures hung at crazy angles over the black and white tile floor. Balls of light flitted between them, occasionally stopping and congregating in small groups. He decided to head for the Underground Bar and Grill, an obsidian shark's tooth just over the horizon to the east. He launched himself toward it in a simple ballistic parabola and prepared to enjoy the view. Within moments Chetter arrived. He thought-projected his personal password at it, then phased directly inside. Donning his favorite body, a six-foot-tall blue-eyed blond with short straight hair and large muscles, he stepped up to the bar. A stool grew out of the floor for him, and he sat on it. The room was filled with smoke and loud industrial music, and happy people of various shapes, sizes, and colors. He spotted a Wookie, a Klingon, someone who looked exactly like Zaphod Beeblebrox, several humans of unusual coloration, and a kzin standing in a circle talking. The bartender was a tall gangly green alien, all skin and bones. He had beady black eyes set under a prominent brow, a broad flat nose, and a thin lipless mouth. His excellence at his work was partially accounted for by his four six-fingered arms, each with two opposable thumbs, one on each edge. The fact that he had fed a bar computer's database into his brain also made a bit of difference. Noticing Chetter, he walked over and asked what he'd like to order. Chetter decided on the usual, a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster with a twist of lemon. Just then, a tall dark man jumped off the balcony. A woman screamed. The bartender yelled, "Don't anybody panic! He does that every week." Chet was sipping his PGG, beginning to enjoy himself, when a large black man walked up to him. Recognizing the personal signature, he greeted his friend Alin with a handshake. "Ah. A handshake. I haven't had one of those in a long time. They're kind of out of style this century." "Well I like them, and I'll be damned if any social trend will stop me from using them. Say, did you adsorb this month's Tomorrow Tech Journal?" "No, can't say that I have. What was the cover story this issue?" Chetter's eyes literally glowed with excitement. "Pseudoreality they call it. It's a brand new technology. They are attempting to use computers and other devices to create imaginary worlds and make them seem real. It would be like being really 'in' a book or a fancy arcade game. You could sense the personal signatures and everything, once they get this technology to its full potential. Maybe new senses could even be created, unlike anything we can possibly imagine!" Alin was not nearly so impressed. "Yeah, I heard of it." "There was a kind of interesting sidebar on people's reactions to pseudoreality. There's some kind of new religion or philosophy or something starting because of it. They claim that the REAL world, the one we live in, is actually some kind of pseudoreality somewhere else." "What nonsense. I always ignore those crazy cults myself. Always coming up with some new far-out idea, just to attract more acolytes." "Yeah. Well, I've got to split. I need to get some dreaming in by next cycle, or I won't be able to sunction on my work-shift." "See ya Chet. Nice talking to you." Chetter withdrew, laughing to himself that anyone would think that the world was in a COMPUTER. In another universe, on an obscure, seemingly lifeless hulk of a planet, a trillion trillion tiny beams of light flickered in unison with the laughter as Chetter drifted off to sleep. [>> Phoenix Modernz Inc. :908/830-TANJ <<] [>> Modern Textfiles Inc. The Matrix BBS:908/905-6691 <<] [>> The Lawless Society Inc. CyberChat BBS:908/506-7637 <<] [>> -also- <<] [>> Terrapin Biscuit Circuit:908/506-6651 <<]


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