The Big Shift. Part 15. Into the vip..

Greta awoke with a start from a dream in which she was falling from an impossibly great height. Opening her eyes, she was unsure at first where she was. A window curved around and above her, framed by climbing plants. Beyond that, a clear blue sky. The sound of a piano was coming from somewhere, some upbeat honky-tonk music which seemed a bit too lively for first thing in the morning, though by the angle of the sun in the sky, it looked as if it was already approaching midday.

Greta sat up in bed and looked around. Nina’s unmade bed was empty and Nina was nowhere to be seen. Looking out of the window again, Greta saw that the little Earthcreters were still busily at work, building Greta’s new bedroom. They’d already built the framework, which was a web of curves and arches, now they were filling in the walls. Overcoming her revulsion at seeing the insect-like robots scuttling around outside her window, she watched them in fascination. The sound of the ragtime piano music gave the scene a slightly surreal and comical atmosphere, Greta wondered if she was still asleep and had landed in a bizarre silent movie, set in some strange, imagined future.

Greta looked around the room. The music seemed to be coming from the V-Pod.. the tall, white, cubicle shaped like a salt shaker, in the corner of the room. She got up out of bed and went over to it and put her ear against the cold, smooth surface. It was vibrating to the sound of the piano music coming from within. The music stopped abruptly. ‘Greta, is that you?’ came Nina’s muffled voice from within the pod.

‘Nina?’ called Greta. ‘Where are you?’

‘Here!’ came Nina’s voice. ‘In the Vip.’

A door which had shown no sign of being a door slid open. Inside the Vip was dark. Nina was sitting on a dark grey piano stool in the middle of the tall, cylindrical cubicle, bathed in dim blue light.

Greta stared at her sister for a while, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. ‘What are you doing in there, Nina?’ she said at last.

‘I was just playing the piano. Sorry, did I wake you up? You’ve been asleep for ages. You must’ve been tired.’

‘I think I was’, said Greta. ‘How were you playing the piano? I don’t see a piano in there..’

‘Here, look..’, said Nina, turning the chair sideways and reaching forward with her hands. Greta couldn’t be sure if she was imagining it, because it was dark inside the Vip, but what it looked like was that the dark grey, inside surface of the pod morphed into the shape of a piano keyboard which reached towards Nina’s hands at the same time as her hands reached towards it. Nina played a short, jaunty tune and then sat back. As she moved away from the piano, it moved away from her, becoming once again a blank, grey wall.

‘What!’ gasped Greta, her jaw dropping in amazement. ‘What did I just see? How did you do that?’

Nina laughed.’ You’re so funny! I can’t believe you’ve never seen a Vip before. It’s just VR.. you know.. Virtual Reality? It’s been around for ages. They even had it in Dad’s time, but it wasn’t anywhere near as good as it is now.’

‘Well, I’ve never seen a Vip’ said Greta. ‘But then again, you’ve never seen a cow.’

Nina thought about it for a moment. ‘That’s true’, she nodded. ‘Good point. Sorry for making fun of you. I think it’s really brave of you to come here. Do you want to see how it works? I can show you if you want. You can use the Vip in the hall. It only works for one person in each one.’

‘I don’t know..’, said Greta uncertainly. ‘What does it do?’

‘All it does is create a 3D surface around you. So you can actually physically feel the things you’re seeing. Look, let’s say I go over here..’ Nina stood up and began walking. Her feet slid along the floor of the Vip while she stayed still. Instead, the piano stool slid away from her and became part of the wall. She stopped after a few steps and reached her hand forward. What looked like a dark grey, painter’s easel emerged from the shadows. ‘Look, it’s a painting I’m working on. What do you think?’ asked Nina, pointing to the blank, grey canvas.

‘Er.. I don’t know’, said Greta, not wanting to offend her sister. ‘I can’t really see what it’s meant to be. It’s just.. it’s just.. grey.. but, you know.. I also feel like that sometimes.. so I think I kind of get the concept.. if that’s what it is..’

‘What do you mean?’ said Nina, sounding slightly offended despite Greta’s efforts not to offend her. But then it dawned on her. ‘Oh, of course! I keep forgetting. You need to be wearing specs or lenses. You can’t see it, obviously! Duh! Anyway, you get the idea, right? Do you want to see my studio? It’s a really cool place. I think you’ll like it.’

‘What? You’ve got a studio? What kind of studio? Where is it?’

‘It’s in here. In VR. In the Vip’, said Nina, hopping out of the cubicle. ‘I’ll get you some specs and you can see it.’

‘Oh.. oh.. I don’t know..’ stammered Greta. ‘I don’t think I want to wear them. I didn’t like it before.. and I’ve only just woken up..’ But Nina was already rummaging through a drawer in her desk, looking for some old specs.

‘Here, I’ve found some’, Nina declared, holding up a pair of glasses with square lenses and a heavy black frame. ‘These are dad’s old specs from years ago. They’re a bit bulky but they should still work.’ She handed them to Greta, but Greta backed away and wouldn’t take them. ‘It’s all right, Greta. Nothing will happen. Here, just put them on and have a little look inside the Vip. You don’t have to go in.. just have a look in through the door.’

‘O..k..’ said Greta, taking the glasses, but not putting them on. Nervously she edged closer to the Vip and put her head around the door. Smooth, dark grey sides, faintly illuminated in a dim blue light.

‘Go on, put them on’, urged Nina.

When Greta put on the glasses, she found that she was looking into a large, well lit room. All along the far side were four big arched windows, old fashioned with wooden frames and lots of panes of glass. The paint on the windowframes was peeling and the other walls of the room were made from exposed red bricks, covered in places by crumbling plaster. Paintings on canvasses and wooden boards were strewn about, some standing stacked against the wall, others on easels or on wooden tables, scattered among paint and brushes, pencil sketches and other painterly paraphernalia. One corner of the large room was taken up by a dusty old, black grand piano which was also piled with sketches, sculptures, a vase of flowers and books.

‘Wow! What is this place?’ said Greta, looking around in amazement.

‘It’s my studio’, said Nina. ‘Go inside. Have a look around.’

Greta looked in through the door of the vip apprehensively and then round at Nina, who was standing next to her in the bedroom, which suddenly appeared small and quite empty compared to the other room inside the vip. She looked back in. Nina’s studio was still there, looking completely realistic. Greta got confused and scared. ‘I.. I.. don’t know..’, she said, taking off the glasses. The room in the vip vanished but the bedroom and Nina were still there. She breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I’ve got a good idea’, said Nina. ‘Wait there. Put the glasses back on and look in from there. I’ll go in from the other vip.. wait a minute, ok?’ Nina ran out of the room, leaving Greta alone with the vip.

‘Wait.. Nina..’ said Greta, holding the glasses in her hand. ‘I don’t want to put them on.. I don’t like it..’ But Nina was already in the hallway, going into the other vip.

Greta was left standing there, fumbling with the glasses, when Nina’s voice came out of the vip. ‘Greta! I’m here now.’

Greta peered into the vip. It was dark and grey. No sign of Nina.

Nina’s voice laughed. ‘Put the glasses on. You can’t see me without them. Nothing bad will happen. I’m right here in front of you.’

Greta hesitantly put on the glasses. Sure enough, there was Nina, standing about two metres in front of her, inside the studio, in the vip.

‘Come in, come in’, Nina beckoned.

Greta put her head in through the door and looked around, left, right and then around the doorframe. The room was bigger than it had appeared before as it also went back, behind the door. In the back corner of the studio was an old sofa and an unmade four poster bed. Next to the bed was an easel with painting of a handsome young man asleep on the bed, with a white sheet draped across his midriff.

‘Come on, don’t be scared’, said Nina, coaxingly. ‘It looks real but it isn’t. Nothing can happen to you here. It’s totally safe.’ Nina put her hand out towards Greta, who stood uncertainly in the doorway.

‘I’m scared’, said Greta.

‘Take my hand’, said Nina, stepping towards Greta.

Greta reached in and touched her hand and gasped. It was real! Nina’s hand was solid. It was warm. She pulled her hand away in fright and pulled the glasses away from her eyes. ‘How..? What..? What..? But how..?’ she stammered, backing away, staring into the vip like she’d just seen a ghost. To her horror, standing in front of her was what looked exactly like her sister, but made from the dark grey material of the inside of the vip. Greta put her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream.

‘Greta! It’s allright, don’t be scared’ cried the grey, 3D rendering of Nina from inside the vip. ‘It’s just polymorph. It changes shape. Remember? I showed you before? With the piano?’

‘Where are you Nina?’ said Greta. ‘Are you in there? How did you get in there? I saw you go out of the room. Why are you covered in that grey stuff?’

‘No, I’m not covered in grey stuff!’ laughed Nina. ‘I’m in the other vip. The one in the hall, by the bathroom. Put the glasses back on. You’ve got to see the view from the window in here. You’ll love it. Well, maybe you will. I do anyway. It’s Paris in the 1950’s. Go on, put the glasses back on. I want to show you my paintings.’

Greta put the glasses back on. Once again, Nina was there in full colour, hand outstretched. ‘Come inside’, she said.

Greta stepped into the studio and looked around. The door to the vip slid closed behind her. She spun around, staring at the place where it had been. She was now standing in the middle of the studio. She reached for where the door had been, but there was nothing there. In a panic, she ran towards where it had been. She ran right across the room, bumped into the piano and fell backwards onto the floor.

Nina ran to her and crouched down next to her. ‘Greta, are you allright?’ she said, taking Greta’s hand.

‘I.. I.. I don’t understand’, stammered Greta. ‘Where did the door go? How do I get out?’

‘It’s ok, Greta, it’s still there, look..’, Nina made a hand movement and the door to the bedroom slid open again, right next to Greta.

‘But how?’ said Greta, very much confused. ‘Before the door was in the middle of the room, now it’s next to the piano.’

‘It’s wherever you are’, said Nina. ‘You’re still in the vip. The door’s only ever an arm’s reach away. When you walk or run, the floor of the vip moves with your feet. You don’t actually move anywhere. Look, watch this..’ Nina got up and danced across the studio, around tables, chairs and easels, towards the window. ‘Come and have a look at the view’, she called from across the room.

With great trepidation, Greta inched her way towards the window, touching tables and chairs and paintings as she went. She brushed her hand along the brick wall at the back of the studio. Some old plaster crumbled away and fell to the floor. She watched as the dust settled on the time-worn floorboards. It all looked and felt completely real.

‘That’s great, you’re doing really well’, Nina called encouragingly from her place at the windowsill. ‘I bet it’s really weird the first time. I can’t remember. I’ve been going in the vip since I was a baby. I’m so used to it I don’t even think about it.’

‘It’s so realistic’, said Greta in a hushed tone of wonder.

‘It’s amazing isn’t it?’ agreed Nina. ‘You forget after a while, then it just seems normal. Hey come and see, there’s a train about to leave. It’s Le Mistral. You’ve got to see this..’

‘Le Mistral? What’s that?’ said Greta, making her way towards the window.

‘It’s a steam train. Most of the trains were electric by the 1950’s, but they still used Le Mistral for the express from Paris to Marseilles and then onto Nice. Look, it’s pulling out of the station now. That’s Gare de Lyon, the train station, over the road.’

The mighty locomotive pulled out of the station with a blast of its steam whistle and billows of smoke. The sound of it filled the room. People were leaning out of the carriage windows, waving and blowing kisses to loved ones left on the platform. In the road below, old fashioned cars and buses were driving noisily along, cyclists and pedestrians were moving to and fro along a wide pavement lined with small shops and cafes. Below the window, a man was selling flowers from a wooden cart.

‘Don’t you just love Paris in the 1950’s?’ smiled Nina wistfully. ‘It’s so romantic. Look, you can see the Eiffel tower over there. Nowadays the whole thing is under a hive. It’s just not the same. I love to look over the skyline when it was just old buildings. The sky looked different then. It was bigger somehow. I love the idea that you could just get on a train and go somewhere.. anywhere. Can you imagine that? They were so free. In those days, it was like.. anything was possible.’

‘It’s so realistic..’ said Greta again. That was all she could say, so stunned was she by what she was seeing.

‘Hey look, Pierre’s there. Hey Pierre!’ Nina leaned out of the window and called to the person selling flowers below. He looked up and Greta immediately recognised him as the person from the painting by the bed.

‘Ah, bonjour Nina!’ Pierre took his beret off and waved. ‘Ow love-ly to see you. Ow are you on zis verry fine day?’

‘Tres bien, Pierre. Tres bien’, Nina called back, blushing slightly. ‘Look Pierre, my sister Greta’s here.’

‘Your sister is here? I do not believe it! Where is she?’ called Pierre, craning his head.

‘Say hello to Pierre, Greta. He’s really sweet’, said Nina. Greta stuck her head out of the window and waved.

‘Oh mon dieu!’ cried Pierre, swooning dramatically. ‘You look just like Nina, only ‘er ‘air is short and bleu and yours au natural. But you are just as beautiful. ‘Ow can it be?’

Greta blushed and looked at Nina. Nina laughed. ‘He’s such a flirt. Do you want to go down and meet him. We can go for a walk around Paris..’

‘I.. I.. I don’t know if I want to’, stammered Greta. ‘This is all a bit much for me. It’s making me dizzy. It’s so realistic.. but it’s not possible. Who is he anyway? Pierre. Is he real?’

‘Well..’, said Nina, thinking about the question. ‘We’ve known each other for a couple of years. To me he’s very real. He probably knows me better than most people. I tell him everything. He’s a really good listener. I think you’ll like him.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Greta, confused. ‘Is he a real person? Who is he really? Where is he really? In real life, I mean. Is he in some vip somehwere, pretending to be in Paris in the olden days? Who are all those people out there? On the train.. in those cars.. in the street.. Are they real? I don’t understand what I’m seeing here. How can this be the 1950’s in Paris? It’s impossible.’

Pierre’s voice came up from the street. ‘Nina! I shall come up there! No need to come down here. I’m sure that Greta is tired from her long journey and does not want to be walking around in dirty old Paris!’

‘Did he hear what we were talking about?’ whispered Greta.

‘I don’t know’, said Nina. ‘He’s very sensitive. He always knows what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling, even if I don’t say anything. He can just tell..’

Somewhere downstairs a heavy door opened and closed and then there were footsteps on the wooden stairs, leading up to the attic studio. Greta’s eyes opened wide in panic. ‘He’s coming up here. Tell me Nina.. who is he? I need to know. Is he real?’

Nina looked into Greta’s eyes imploring her to understand, but she couldn’t find the words to explain.

There were three short knocks on the door. Greta’s heart almost stopped.

‘Listen, Greta’, said Nina, hurriedly. ‘He’s virtual, ok? He only exists here. Do you understand?’

‘What? No. I don’t understand. How?’

‘All right. Never mind. I’ll explain later. Just don’t tell dad, ok? Promise you won’t tell dad?’ Nina pleaded with her eyes.

‘Ok, I won’t. Of course not, if you don’t want me to.. but.. are you ok Nina? What’s going on?’

‘Nothing’s going on. I just don’t think dad would know how to handle it. This is my place, Greta. It’s my sanctuary.. It’s where I can come and dream..’

‘Ok..’, Greta nodded slowly. ‘It’s a beautiful place, Nina. It really is.’

‘Thanks sis’, said Nina and gave Greta a hug.

‘Is zis not a good time, Nina? I can come back anozer time..’ came Pierre’s voice from behind the door. He had a nice voice, Greta thought. Gentle, kind, considerate. She liked his accent too.

‘Shall I tell him not to come in?’ whispered Nina.

‘No.. since he means so much to you.. and since he’s already come up all those stairs... tell him to come in. I’ll try not to embarrass you.’

Nina smiled. ‘You couldn’t embarrass me with Pierre.. he’s seen me in every condition, but he never judges and never takes anything personally. He’s amazing like that. Much better than me, that’s for sure.’

‘Sounds almost too good to be true’, said Greta, a touch cynically. ‘Anyway, if he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.’

‘Yes, he does’, Nina smiled, a touch sadly. Then she called out in a bright voice, ‘Come in Pierre!’

The door to the studio swung open and there was Pierre beaming a huge smile and brandishing two large bouquets of flowers. ‘Ah, Greta! It is such a great honneur to finally meet you. Nina often speaks about you. It is wonderful that you have come to join her.’ He bowed down, took her hand and kissed it, then he presented her with a bouquet of flowers. ‘These are flowers of the forest. Perhaps you recognise them, oui? I love the flowers of the forest most of all. They remind me of home.’

‘You come from the forest? Really?’ asked Greta incredulously.

‘Oui. I grew up in the forest, but after my father died, my mother brought us to Paris, where she sold flowers, for a time. Now, she’s too ill to stand in the street all day, so I sell the flowers. I don’t mind it. I like to see all the people. It never gets boring, but I do miss the forest, where the flowers grow wild. Your sister, of course, prefers roses..’ Pierre twirled around and handed a large bunch of red roses to Nina and planted a kiss on her lips.

‘Oh Pierre, you don’t always need to bring me roses. They’re so expensive and you need the money to look after your mum.’

Pierre closed his eyes and wagged his finger. ‘For you, Nina, all the roses in the world would not be enough.’

‘You’re sweet’, said Nina, taking the flowers and turning around. ‘I’ll put them in a vase.’ She put out her hand and a tall glass vase appeared in it. Nina put the flowers in the vase and went and placed it on top of the piano.

Greta did a double take. ‘Nina.. where did that vase just come from?’

‘I needed it to put the roses in’, said Nina. ‘It’s Italian, 1920’s. They had wonderful glassmakers back then.’

Greta became agitated. She looked at the flowers on the piano, then at Nina, then at Pierre, then at the bouquet of forest wild flowers in her hand, then back at Pierre. Pierre cocked his head and looked at Greta quizzically. Greta took her bunch of flowers and sniffed them. She shook her head and marched over to the piano. She sniffed at the roses. ‘These flowers don’t have any smell.’ she said, feeling some kind of rage rising in her. ‘They’re not real roses. They don’t smell of anything.’

‘Well, they would if you had a noodle’, said Nina. ‘Do you see why I want to get one now?’

‘What? Nina, no! What are you saying?’ cried Greta. ‘You can’t! Don’t even think about getting one. As if this isn’t bad enough!’

‘What do you mean, as if this isn’t bad enough?’ said Nina, hurt. ‘You said it’s beautiful.’

‘It is beautiful, Nina, but it isn’t real. None of this is real. Can’t you see that?’

‘It is real, Greta. How can you say it’s not? It’s real. It exists. You can see it and touch it. What more do you want?’

‘No.. no.. no, no, no, no!’ said Greta, shaking with anger and confusion. ‘Just no! Look! It’s not real! This..’ she cried, picking up the delicate, art-deco vase, ‘.. it’s not real! It doesn’t really exist, does it!’ and she threw it at the floor. The glass shattered, as glass does, in an explosion of fragments, water and roses.

Nina and Pierre stared, open mouthed. Pierre was the first to speak. ‘I’ll go and get a broom to sweep up..’

‘No, Pierre, leave it. It doesn’t matter. Just leave it.’ Nina suddenly sounded and looked very tired and weary.

‘But really, it will only take a minute. I really don’t mind. It is all my fault. I should not have intruded on your reunion. I am very sorry.. je suis desole’, said Pierre.

‘N’en parlons plus, mon amour’, said Nina, sadly. ‘Maybe Greta’s right. Maybe it’s not real. Maybe none of this is real, but it is what it is. This is what I’ve got Greta. It is what it is. I know what I feel and those are real feelings.’

‘I want to go out of here’, said Greta. ‘Can I go out? Let me out.’ The door to the bedroom opened in the space just behind Greta.

Pierre made a forlorn face and pleaded to Greta with his eyes. He had one of the most beautiful faces that Greta had ever seen. She could see what Nina saw in him.

‘Sorry Nina’, said Greta. ‘I just need to go out of here and think.. I think I just need to lie down a bit.. I’m.. very.. dizzy..’

Greta turned around and stepped unsteadily out through the door of the vip. The flowers she had been holding disappeared, leaving an empty feeling in her hand. She took two steps toward the bed and collapsed onto it, unconscious.

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Greta opened her eyes to see her dad looking down at her with a very worried expression on his face. Nina was next to him crying uncontrollably. ‘It’s all my fault!’ Nina was wailing. ‘I wanted to show her in the vip and now I’ve killed her!’

‘She’s not dead, Nina. You haven’t killed her. But she should have gone through the training program before using the V-pod. There’s a process of acclimatisation. Oh, she’s waking up.. thank God! Greta, can you hear me?’

Greta nodded her head weakly. ‘Where am I? What happened?’

‘You fainted, Greta. Only for a couple of minutes. Don’t worry, it happens to a lot of people when they experience immersive virtual reality for the firsts time. It’s a lot for the brain to process. It can be a shock to the system. Can you see me? Do I look normal? How do you feel?’

‘I feel ok, I think’, said Greta weakly, lifting her head. ‘Yes, I can see you. I think you look normal.. whatever that is. Is this real? Am I really here?’

‘Yes, you’re definitely really here’, smiled Freddy. ‘Thank the stars! You’re really here! Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?’ He held up three fingers.

‘Three’, said Greta, wondering if some random object was about to suddenly appear in his hand. It didn’t.

‘That’s Great, Greta. You’ll be fine, don’t worry’, said Freddy, still looking rather worried himself, though that was his natural expression. ‘Let’s get you something to eat and a nice cup of tea. That’ll sort you out.’ Freddy squeezed her hand and then went out of the room.

Nina’s face was streaked with tears as she leaned over and looked at Greta. ‘I’m so sorry, Greta. I didn’t mean to..’

‘It’s ok, it’s not your fault’, said Greta. ‘I’m sorry I broke the vase and that I was rude to Pierre.. even though neither of them are exactly real.. it’s your world and I came in and spoiled it for you. I’m sorry.’

‘No, you didn’t spoil it. Not really. You were just being honest. It’s good that you speak your mind, even if the things you say aren’t so easy to hear. Sometimes I probably do need a reality check. I tend to get carried away on a fantasy. I can’t help it. That’s just the way I am. Always have been.’

‘Oh, me too!’ nodded Greta. ‘I’m always in a world of my own. Most of the time anyway. When I was little I didn’t just have an imaginary friend.. not one.. I had twelve.. and they all had families and whole lives.. different tribes.. I had imaginary villages in different parts of the forest.. the little people of the big rock, the dwellers of the ancient elm, the water people who lived behind the secret waterfall.. I had whole kingdoms that would sometimes go to war with each other and sometimes make peace.’

‘Wow, that sounds amazing. It sounds magical where you come from. Like out of a story book.’

‘It is, Nina. It’s beautiful there in the forest. And the best thing is that it’s all completely real.’

Nina raised her eyebrows. ‘Even the people who live behind the secret waterfall?’

Greta smiled. ‘Yes, they’re still there.’

‘We’ll go there, Greta’, said Nina, holding Greta’s hands. ‘I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but we’ll go there and then you can show me.’

‘Yes, we will!’ Greta nodded enthusiastically. ‘We’ll go there soon.’

…………………. . . . ………………………. . . . . . ………………… . . . . . . . . .

Breakfast consisted of a bowl of Cheery-O’s, which were little multicoloured crispy rings floating in synthetic milk. Greta found them rather too sweet, but they were somehow comforting and a fairly filling, in an empty sort of way. When she’d had enough, she let Sydney drink the last of the milk from her bowl, which he did using a straw-like telescopic tongue that emerged from the dark glass where his face would have been, if he’d been a real dog. Greta found it both fascinating and repulsive to watch the synthetic dog drinking the artificial milk, but somehow it didn’t shock her quite as much as it had at the beginning. She was starting to get used to this strange new reality. It was somehow starting to seem almost normal.

‘I spoke to Grandma and Grandpa this morning, Greta’, said Freddy. ‘They’re really excited to finally meet you. All the family are. I told them we’d all get together tonight.. you’ve got aunts and uncles and cousins, did you know that? But, if it’s all too much for you, you don’t have to meet them all at the same time. It might be a bit overwhelming.’

‘I really want to meet them’, said Greta. ‘Are they all going to come here? Do they live here in the city?’

‘Unfortunately not, no. They live in New Jerusalem, in the hive there. It’s much to far away for them to come here, but you can meet them in the O-zone.. you know, on a flat screen, with the glasses, in a V-pod.. whatever’s most comfortable for you.’

‘How come Grandma and Grandpa live in New Jerusalem? Is it because they’re Jewish?’

‘Oh, you know about that do you? I wasn’t sure if your mum would have told you about that side of your family.’

‘No, not really. Not much’, said Greta. ‘People don’t really do those religions in our village. If anything they’re more.. New Age.. something like that.’

‘Oh I see’, said Freddy, raising his eyebrows. ‘Well, that’s a sort of religion isn’t it? Anyway, in answer to your question.. yes, in a roundabout way it was because Grandma and Grandpa are Jewish that they ended up in New Jerusalem. My brother, Larry, he became quite religious at one point in his twenties, like some people do.. so he decided to go over there to study Torah.. he felt like he needed to go to the place where it all started.. to really feel it. Something like that. Anyway, to cut a long story short.. your Uncle Larry gave up on being religious after a few months, but he stayed, fell in love with the place.. or more particularly a certain woman in that place.. that’s your Aunt Anat.. and they got married.’

‘So grandma and grandpa moved there to be close to Uncle Larry?’ asked Greta.

‘Well, whether or not that was their intention, that’s the way it worked out’, said Freddy. ‘Grandma and Grandpa went out there to visit Larry and Anat and their new baby, that’s your cousin Ariel, when the Big Shift happened, so they had to stay. They were only supposed to go for a week or two and then come back for your birth.. and then the Big Shift happened. They had no way to get back, of course. So now they all live in the New Jerusalem hive. It’s funny the way things turn out. People end up in the most unexpected places. Luckily we’ve got the O-zone, so no-one’s ever all that far away.. unless they decide to go and live out in the wilderness, in the jungle, in the middle of no-where, totally disconnected from the rest of humanity.. like your mum did with you.’

‘It’s not really the middle of no-where, where I come from. It’s not even very far from here’, said Greta. ‘There are lots of people living there and lots going on. We just don’t have vips and noodles and creters and hives and cheery-O’s. We’ve got lots of trees though. Really big old trees.’

‘Oh, we’ve got trees here too’, said Freddy. ‘Say, Nina, why don’t you take Greta to the park. Get some fresh air. Sydney could do with a walk..’

‘Good idea’, said Nina. ‘Shall we go to the park? You’ll like it there. There are big trees..’

‘That sounds good. Where is it?’

‘It’s just round the corner. We can walk there. I’ll bring some specs with for you, just in case you want to use them.’

‘I won’t. Why would I?’ said Greta.

‘Well, just in case..’ said Nina.

‘I’ll get my hat’, said Greta.

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The way to the park was through a maze of wide, winding corridors which were lined with neatly trimmed, low fruit trees, bushes and flowers. Greta was pleased to find an apple tree laden with ripe apples. She picked four and put them in her pockets. Sydney ran back and forth, up and down the corridor, sniffing everything as he went, just like a real dog.

After a little while they came to the park, a wide open area with a ceiling that was so high and covered in so many skylight ducts that it seemed almost as if it was the sky itself. There were large areas of soft grass and tall trees of various unusual species that Greta didn’t recognise. The park was open to the outside all along one side where it continued out onto a long, wide ledge, jutting out beyond the edge of the hive. A stream was running through the middle of the park, in the direction of the outside area.

People were out walking their robot dogs, or sitting on benches or on the grass. Some people were out jogging along the path. It was such a large open space and the people were spread out, so it didn’t feel crowded at all. Several of the people they passed seemed to be talking to themselves, but Greta tried not to judge them for it. She often spoke to herself too, even though it was usually when there was no one else around. She liked how people here in the city seemed to be comfortable in their madness.

‘It’s nice here’, said Greta, feeling for the first time since arriving in the city, that there was something in her surroundings that she could relate to. She breathed a deep breath of the cool fresh air which was blowing in from the outside ledge, a thousand metres above the ground.

‘Let’s get an ice cream and then go and sit out by the waterfall’, said Nina, heading towards a little red and white kiosk nestling beneath a giant tree with roots hanging from its branches to the ground.

In the kiosk, behind a glass fronted freezer displaying about twenty different types of ice cream, stood a tall, thin, humanoid robot, similar to the one from the restaurant kitchen.. the robot who’s head Greta had smashed in with a frying pan. On seeing the cyborg, Greta gasped, backed hurriedly out of the ice cream kiosk and hid behind the tree.

Nina turned around to find her sister gone. ‘Greta? Where are you?’ she called.

‘I’m here, behind the tree’, Greta whispered. ‘Come round here.’

Nina found Greta looking very agitated. Her hat was pulled down low and her eyes were darting left and right from beneath the brim, scanning the park for danger. ‘What is it?’ asked Nina. ‘Are you ok? What happened?’

‘That’s the robot I smashed the other day, when I arrived’, Greta whispered, pointing to the kiosk on the other side of the tree. ‘What if it remembers?’

‘You smashed a robot?’ said Nina, sounding impressed.

‘Yes’, said Greta, looking down. ‘I bashed it in the head with a big frying pan.’

‘O.M.G.L.C! Did you? That’s outrageous! I wish I’d seen it.’

‘You can ask O’, said Greta. ‘It’s all on camera. I threw a bowl of spaghetti at another one. It was in a restaurant.’

Nina burst out laughing. ‘No way! A bowl of spaghetti? That’s hilarious!’

‘Shh! Nina! It’ll hear us.’ Greta grabbed Nina’s sleeve urgently. ‘What if it wants revenge? I’m scared.’

‘Don’t worry, Greta. It’s not the same one. Anyway, they’re just robots. You can’t hurt them.’

‘But what if I’m in trouble?’

‘No, I’m sure you’re not in trouble. Maybe O deducted a few Obits from your account for the damage, but they probably didn’t even do that. Usually O takes responsibility when something goes wrong like that, for not preventing it before it happened. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.’

‘What do you mean deducted Obits from my account? I don’t have an account.’

‘Yes you do. Everyone in the green zone has one. You get a thousand Obits a month, plus a hundred a month for all the time you weren’t here, so you’ve probably got thousands of Obits in your account, since you haven’t been here for sixteen years.’

‘Do I? What for? Where from?’ asked Greta.

‘It’s from O. Everyone gets that. Basic income. For buying basic stuff.’

‘O.. k..’ said Greta, not really understanding.

‘Shall we get some ice creams then?’ said Nina, taking Greta’s hand.

‘I’m still scared’, said Greta. ‘I don’t like those robots. They’re creepy.’

‘They look a lot better if you wear the specs. Do you want to try it?’ Nina reached into her jacket pocket and took out the glasses with the blue lenses.

Greta thought about it for a minute before reluctantly agreeing. She put the glasses on and peeked out from behind the tree. Now, in the place of the robot, was a kindly looking gentleman in his sixties, wearing a red and white shirt. On his shirt he wore a little badge with the name Alfredo written on it. A small, blue ‘O’ was glowing just above his head where his stats would have been if he’d been a real human. He turned his head to where Nina and Greta were peeking out from behind the tree and smiled. ‘Ah, bonjourno Nina! Bonjourno Greta! What can I get for you on this beautiful day? I have a brand new flavour today.. Mango ripple surprise.. perhaps you’d like to try it?’

‘Hi Alfredo’, said Nina, coming out from behind the tree. ‘I’ll have my usual thanks, mint choc chip. Maybe Greta wants to try the mango. She likes fruit. Greta.. come and choose a flavour.’

Greta stepped out from behind the tree and nervously approached the kiosk. Alfredo smiled a wide smile. ‘Don’t be afraid, Greta’, he said, ‘it’s all very good ice cream. Only the finest ingredients. Would you like to try one? How about some strawberry cream sundae? I think you’ll like that.’ He took a little spoon, scooped out some pink ice cream and offered it to Greta.

Alfredo had such a kindly face that Greta felt a pang of guilt about what she’d done to his fellow worker in the restaurant kitchen. She took the little spoon of pink ice cream and said, ‘Thanks Alfredo. And sorry about the thing with the frying pan the other day.’

Alfredo threw his head back and laughed in a good hearted way. ‘Oh, think nothing of it, Signorina. You were in a tight corner. Anyone would have done the same thing in your position. How do you like the strawberry cream sundae?’

‘Thanks Alfredo. It’s tasty’, she said, forgetting momentarily that she was talking to a robot.

They took their ice creams in cones and wandered over towards the outside area. Greta noticed that now that she was wearing the glasses, the park seemed more crowded with people. Also the robot dogs looked like real dogs. Sydney was running around on the grass with some others of his kind. Sign posts hanging in the air pointed to various attractions.. boating pond, cafe, skatepark, adventure playground, viewpoint..

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Outside on the viewpoint, the ledge sloped downwards into rocky outcrops with sheltered alcoves and tall trees offering shade from the bright midday sun. Somehow, the sun seemed brighter at this altitude. The stream became a series of small waterfalls which cascaded down through the park. The air was clear and the view was breathtaking, taking in the whole of the city, the green mountains to the east and also the sea, glittering in the distance to the south. Greta took off the blue lensed glasses an stared out in wonder and awe.

Nina led the way to a comfortable patch of very soft grass next to the stream and they sat down to enjoy their ice cream cones, the sunshine and the view.

‘What do you think, Greta?’ asked Nina. ‘It’s not all bad in the city is it?’

‘I guess not’, replied Greta, licking her ice cream, as she watched a flock of geese pass by, heading south. ‘It’s not as bad as I expected actually. But still, I don’t think I could live here.’

‘Why not?’ said Nina, sounding disappointed. ‘Is it because you miss mum? You just wait Greta.. we’ll find a way to bring mum here. Don’t you think she’d like it here? Look.. we’ve got trees and nature here.. streams.. birds..’

‘Yes, you have..’ said Greta. ‘But still.. it’s not the same. I don’t know how I can explain it.. it’s just different when it’s.. how can I put it?.. when it’s.. wild. And mum hates O. I mean, really hates O. You might think that I hate O.. but compared to mum..’

‘Oh, hang on.. I’ve got a call..’, said Nina, glancing off to one side. ‘Hey Ariel! Hi Osama! How’s it going? Yes, of course you can join us. Look, Greta, this is Ariel, our cousin from New Jerusalem. And this is Osama.. his brother from another mother, as we call him. Don’t they look similar? They’re not really brothers, they live next door to each other in the hive.’

‘What? Where? I don’t see anyone..’ said Greta.

‘Put the specs on then’, said Nina smiling and rolling her eyes. ‘You don’t need to keep taking them off you know. We should get you some lenses. It’s much more convenient.’

Greta put on the specs. Standing in front of her were Ariel and Osama. They did look very much like brothers. They were both dressed in bright swimming shorts and sleeveless t-shirts, both had wild mops of uncontrollable curly hair. Their faces also looked similar in their features, but maybe it was more in the proud, determined way they both stuck out their chins. Whatever it was, Greta would have thought they were both brothers if she’d seen them in the street. As it was, she was very surprised and quite shocked to see the two lads suddenly standing in front of her on the grassy patch by the stream, grinning and waving.

‘Hi Greta’, waved the lad on the left. ‘I’m Ariel. My dad’s your dad’s brother, Larry. It’s great to meet you. We just heard this morning about you arriving from the forest. Everyone’s so excited. Especially Grandma and Grandpa. We couldn’t wait till tonight to meet you.. that’s why we came here now.’

‘Hi Ariel. It’s good to meet you’, said Greta, putting out her hand to shake his. Ariel grinned and put out his hand, but when Greta reached to touch his hand, her hand went right though it. She gasped and pulled her hand away as if she’d just got an electric shock.

Ariel laughed out loud and pointed at Greta. ‘Oh your face!’ he laughed. ‘You should have seen your face just then.’ He didn’t say it in a nasty way, but still Greta felt embarrassed and foolish.

Osama turned to Ariel, gave him a stern look and slapped him on the arm. ‘What are you making fun of her for, bro?’ he said. ‘She’s just walked all the way from the forest. Show her some respect.’

Now it was Ariel’s turn to look embarrassed. ‘Hey, sorry Greta. I wasn’t making fun of you.. not really. I mean, you did look seriously funny.. you should have seen your face..’ he made an impression of Greta’s shocked expression and then laughed again, ‘..but.. you know.. I was laughing with you, not laughing at you..’

‘Jeez bro, you’re making it worse’, said Osama, shaking his head and looking very disapprovingly at his friend. He looked at Greta and made an expression as if to say ‘sorry about my friend’, then he put both his hands on his heart and said, ‘Ahlan wa sahlan. I’m Osama, pleased and honoured to meet you.’ And then he smiled and bowed his head.

Greta was quite touched by his chivalry. She put her hands on her heart and said, ‘Pleased and honoured to meet you too Osama. What does that mean.. thing thing you said?’

Osama pondered for while and then said, ‘Ahlan wa sahlan. It’s not so easy to translate. It’s Arabic. It has many meanings, but basically it means “Welcome”.. but it means more than that. What it really means is.. “you are with your people, you won’t be treated as an outsider, your presence is not a burden, you are in safe territory and may you walk easy on the land.”’ He said this very seriously, meaning every word.

‘Wow, that’s a lot of meaning in a few words. That’s beautiful. Thank you’, said Greta, feeling quite moved. ‘Ahlan wa sahlan to you too, Osama. And to you Ariel. How did you both suddenly appear here? Are you in vips?’

Osama looked impressed. He turned to Ariel and said, ‘See? She’s only been here.. what.. a day? And she already knows what a vip is. What do you know about living in the forest? Nothing. You wouldn’t survive for a day out there, where Greta comes from.’

‘I wouldn’t?’ said Ariel, sticking out his chin. ‘As if you know anything about survival. Sitting by a pool having drinks brought to you all day isn’t exactly a struggle against the merciless ravages of nature, red in tooth and claw, is it bro?’

Osama narrowed his eyes and turned to face Ariel. ‘I’d know how to survive’, he said, sticking out his chin. ‘My people are survivors.’

‘Well so are mine’, said Ariel proudly, as if it were a competition.

Nina looked at Greta, rolled her eyes, smiled and shook her head helplessly. ‘They’re always like this’, she said. ‘They’re best friends but they’re always arguing about every stupid thing.’

‘We’re not arguing’, said Ariel. ‘This is just how we talk to each other. It sounds like we’re fighting but we’re not.’

‘Anyway, if you think we’re bad, you should hear our dads when they get going’, said Osama with a smile. ‘Usually they’re the best of friends.. I mean, they’re perfect neighbours in just about every way.. they really are.. until you mention anything about history.. I mean, anything at all that happened before the Big Shift. Just don’t do it. Don’t go there. That’s’ all I’m saying. You’ll never hear the end of it and they’ll never agree.’

‘So are you in vips then? Is that how you suddenly appeared here? I’m still trying to understand how everything works here. It’s all very new and different for me’, said Greta.

‘No, we’ve got noodles’, Ariel and Osama both said at exactly the same time and both tapped their heads in unison.

‘Oh no!’ gasped Greta in horror. ‘That’s awful.’

‘No, it’s awe-some!’ said Ariel.

Osama nodded in agreement. ‘It really is’, he said. ‘Mind-blowing.’ And he made an expression using his hands and face, of his mind being being blown.

Ariel looked very seriously at Greta and nodded in agreement. ‘It’s like..’ And he thought for a long while, trying to find the words. ‘..no, I can’t explain what it’s like. Really, it’s like nothing else you’ve ever experienced. It’s just like..’ And Ariel made the same motion of hands and face to describe his mind being blown.

‘I think it’s a big mistake’, said Greta. ‘A very bad idea.’

‘Don’t knock it till you try it’, said Ariel. ‘In the words of the Rabbi Bob.. don’t criticise what you can’t understand.’

‘Well, I don’t know anything about Rabbi Bob, but I think it’s a bad idea getting a noodle’, said Greta. ‘A very bad idea. But anyway, not much you can do about it now is there? So what’s it like? How are you here? Where are you really.. in real life?’

‘Do you want to see?’ said Ariel. He pointed to the little illuminated square of stats above his head. ‘Do you see that green button next to my stats? Tap that, it’ll switch views.’ He leaned towards Greta and proffered his head.

Greta tapped the virtual button. In her left eye, the view changed from the scene in front of her to a different scene. A group of young people were playing volleyball on a wide patch of grass. Beyond that was a big swimming pool surrounded by people sunbathing on sun loungers or sitting around on the grass. Low tables and chairs were set up around a bar and little robot waiters (recognisable by the blue O above their heads) wearing black and white tuxedos, were moving through the crowds of swimsuited humans, delivering food and drinks. In Greta’s right eye, the view stayed the same. Ariel and Osama were standing where they were, in front of Greta, in both eyes. It was very confusing for Greta. She screwed up her face, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

‘Oh my God! Your face!’ Ariel howled with laughter, but then said. ‘Sorry Greta. Your reactions are just so funny. Your face just says it all. Try covering one eye. That makes it easier, till you get used to it.’

Greta covered her right eye and looked around the poolside scene. Then she covered her left eye, relieved to see that she was still where she was, in the park by the stream. ‘I don’t get it’, she said. ‘Is this what you’re seeing? How can you be in two places at the same time? Isn’t it really confusing?’

‘No, you really get used to it’, said Osama. ‘Most people only use five or ten percent of their brain capacity. You’d be amazed what the human brain can do when it’s optimised. Do you want to see the view from here? This place is right near the top of the hive. New Jerusalem hive is right at the top on to of a hill. The mount of Olives. You can see for miles, all the way round.. Come and have a look..’

Osama walked past some pool tables and past a stage with lights, towards a glass guardrail at the edge of the area. He pointed out at the view of yellow, desert hills rolling down and down towards a distant valley. ‘That’s the Jordan Valley’, he said. ‘Look. There’s the Dead Sea over there. And there’s Jericho. Can you see the hives there? That’s one of the oldest cities in the world. People have been living there for five thousand years or more.’

‘Wow, it’s beautiful’ said Greta, still with her hand over one eye.

‘Come and have a look at the other side too’, said Ariel. They wandered over to the other side of the area, around past the pool and past a group of older people who were practising synchronised yoga on the grass. The other side looked out over green forested hills rolling down towards green plains. Beyond that, the blue sea glittered behind a series of hives that punctuated the coastline.

‘Oh wow!’ said Greta. ‘That’s an amazing view. It’s so different on this side.’

‘Yes, this is an amazing land.’, said Osama proudly, as if he himself had created it. ‘It’s got everything.’

‘Have you been to the sea?’ asked Greta. ‘I’ve never been to the sea, but I’d like to.’

‘We go there every year in the summer’, said Ariel. ‘Our two families go together. It’s a two day walk from here, down the old highway. We’ve got family in the hives there too.. my mum’s sister and all her lot. You’ll see them tonight when we all meet up. Osama’s got cousins there too.’

‘In New Jaffa’, said Osama. ‘See those hives over there? It’s a really cool city.. amazing place. One of the oldest ports in the world. You can still see the old fortress walls from when they needed to defend the city from invaders. I love the sea. It’s so wild.. so elemental. It’s always changing, but at the same time, it never changes. The sea connects us all. It’s where we come from, after all.’

‘Beautiful’, said Greta, looking out over the distant place in wonder, through her left eye. She liked Osama’s poetic way of talking.

‘You’re so lucky your parents are prepared to go out of the hives into the redzone’, said Nina. ‘Our dad is too scared. You know what he’s like Ari, don’t you? We’re trying to convince him to let us go and see mum in the forest, but he’s totally against it.’

‘Yeah’, nodded Ariel. ‘It’s a shame Freddy’s so uptight. He needs to get over his fears.’

‘Exactly’, said Nina. ‘That’s what I keep telling him.’

‘Well, he’s just trying to protect you’, said Osama. ‘It’s only natural. People will go to great lengths to try and protect the people they love, even if they end up doing the wrong thing and making things worse. He just doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you.’

‘Yeah, I suppose’, said Nina, glumly taking a bite out of her ice cream cone.

‘You’ll get there, Nina. You’ll get there Greta’, said Osama with absolute certainty. ‘With God’s help you’ll find a way.’

Nina rolled her eyes. She always found Osama’s belief in an all powerful deity annoyingly primitive. ‘Well, I guess we’ll need God’s help because our dad’s as stubborn as a goat. He’ll never change his mind.’

Greta found Osama’s faith beautiful. His certainty gave her hope. She was glad to discover that even in the hives, there were people who had a spiritual element to their lives, even if they also had noodles in their brains. She put her hands together, closed her eyes and made a little prayer.

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