A Sample of "Meta Man!"
Here’s the first chapter of a short thriller that will eventually be included in my upcoming collection, “Stories From the Zone!” (Thanks Paul D. Brazill)
Meta Man
A Short Thriller
Vincent Zandri
“The Metaverse not only gives us the opportunity to explore new places and move across a metaverse landscape, but it will also allow us to move about in metaverse history to experience life in the past and interact with historical figures.”
--Futurist Speaker, Thomas Frey
1
The fact that Casey Smith perished in a horrible car crash seven years ago has not stopped his wife from divorcing him only three years ago. Nor has it stopped his publisher to hound him for the new novel he was contracted to deliver six months ago. Nor has it stopped his twenty-something perpetually unemployed son, John, from hounding him for funds to live on, nor for the police to keep open the investigation on the crimes he committed that started his new life in the metaverse in the first place.
Maybe Casey was not only decapitated when his speeding but malfunctioning autonomous vehicle sped into the back end of a fully autonomous driving semi, but his earthly body burned to a crisp, making even the thought of an open casket laughable. But then, Casey was never the type to maintain a whole lot of friendships since he was always locked away in his studio, writing his next novel or short story, and slowly but then rather quickly, going horribly broke at the same time.
When he died, Casey did not see a circular beam of bright white light. Nor did he see the bearded face of Jesus or big Saint Peter (the Rock) or heavenly angels welcoming him to his forever home in the sly. Instead, he was made to stand in line behind a dozen other alive but somehow “dead” people who were given instructions on which gates to head to and the appropriate boarding tickets that went with it.
To the tall, salt and pepper haired, Casey, the experience was almost identical to that of catching a commercial flight at any one of the major hubs he used to be access on the way to some book signing or research jaunt in Europe or Asia. Those were back in the days when publishing was still lucrative, and Casey made money and was raising a family. The days before all writing became democratized and all books could be read for free effectively putting men and women like Casey out of a job.
When it came time for him to take his turn at the counter, the young blue unformed African American woman brought his name up on the computer. She had been full of smiles initially, but the smiles quickly faded away.
“Casey,” she said, punching in a couple of commands. “Casey Smith, the writer. I believe I read a couple of your books back in my non-meta days. Before things went free. Good stuff.” But then, shaking her head. “Terrible shame the way you left your mortal life. Looks like there’s some outstanding legal issues too.”
“I can explain that, mam,” Casey was quick to interject.
But the attendant raised both her hands, palms out.
“I’m not here to judge you, Mr. Smith,” she was quick to point out. “I’m simply here to process you. As a part of the metaverse AI program and the specific circumstances of your more earthly days, your avatar is to be placed in a space that specifically coincides with your previous physical life.” She grinned proudly when she said it. “Oh, and don’t worry about that divorce stuff your wife is still harping on and if you don’t hand in another book to another editor. I mean, who cares? There’s no money in it for you anyway, and in the Metaverse, the money you need to get around somehow just has it way of appearing. It’s all been coded in, I guess.”
Casey looked at the palms of my hands. He turned his hands over. He made a fist and wrapped his knuckles on the Corriann counter. The knuckles felt pain when they connected with the counter.
“I’m still a physical being,” he said.
She nodded.
“That’s how far we’ve come in this sphere, Mr. Smith,” she said. “The company’s motto has always been ‘More alive in death then alive on earth,’ and we continue to strive for product improvement.”
Once more, Casey thought about the man he accidentally ran over after robbing one of the last traditional crypto banks left in the Albany City Limits.
“I didn’t mean to run anyone over,” he said. “It was truly an accident.”
The woman grinned again.
“That’s none of my business,” she said. She then produced a ticket and handed it to Casey. “Security is to your immediately right and from there you can access your gate.”
“I’ve flying to heaven?” the writer said.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it heaven,” she said. “But then, heaven doesn’t really exist now does it?”
Her words were disconcerting to Casey. His ticket in hand, he made his way to security.
_____________________________________
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