THE STORY SO FAR: In 1990 a bizarre incident on the streets of Boston forced outlaw-turned-corporate consultant Jerry Staute to confront strange new memories supposedly suppressed since 1972.

In the fall of 1972 I was a sophomore at a small engineering college. I drove a heavily modified 1969 Ford Mustang. At least, I drove it when it was in running condition: building a hot rod you also need to drive on a regular basis is not something I'd recommend. Especially when you're impoverished to start with, plus trying to pay for college. Luckily, I could walk to most of the places I needed to go, while at school.

My life was not the sort most of my fellow citizens would have chosen for themselves. Heck: I wouldn't have chosen it either, for the most part. Why? Well, the poverty and hardship come to mind. The seemingly all work and no play rules. The rare fruitful encounter with the opposite sex. The boredom. The tediousness...Shall I go on? I thought not.

Oh sure, I had some interesting times with my car on occasion. But those didn't usually compare fun and adventure-wise with the treks involving a particular friend of mine. And that friend was good old Steve.

Yep! The same guy who would have such a big influence on my life later was already doing it around eighteen years before.

As far as fun and interesting things during my college days were concerned, Steve was my personal guru.

Steve was an adventurer and a half, even in those early days. He was unbelievably successful with the ladies. He was smart, handsome, confident, and coordinated. He also had more money than I did, as his father was an independent businessman, unlike my own dear dad.

In short, Steve was everything I wasn't.

I guess I should have been pretty envious of Steve. But I wasn't very (at least, not often). Steve may have been well-endowed in life, but he wasn't perfect by any means. He enjoyed life immensely, and tried mightily to milk it for all it was worth. He truthfully seemed to live almost every day 'as if it would be his last', as the old saying goes. This meant he was constantly seeking out new adventures and thrills. It also meant he took risks and did things most wouldn't dare. This kind of life looks great in the movies, but isn't too practical in reality.

Steve got hurt-- a lot. Mostly physically, since many of his activities would have strained an Olympic athlete. But sometimes mentally as well. For when chasing dreams you often encounter a few nightmares along the way too.

Luckily Steve had succeeded in hardening himself against many of the pains encountered in his personal pursuit of happiness (if not all).

He also spent so much money that he ended up in close to the same financial shape as myself, despite his initial advantages in that area. His grades suffered too; for how can you study when you're scaling cliffs or exploring the depths of the Earth? Or partying?

And boy, did Steve party.

Another facet of all this lust for life was that Steve didn't always live up to one's expectations of a 'best friend'. It wasn't that he was a bad person-- it was just that living every moment to its fullest is oftentimes by its very nature a highly selfish policy. Among other things, it doesn't leave much room for 'friendship maintenance' in one's life.

That was okay by me though. I understood the tradeoffs involved with Steve's friendship. In exchange for sharing the excitement of Steve's shopping spree on life, I had to give up some of the niceties which could have been expected from friendships with more conventional people. That was fine with me, because Steve brought me experiences that I often savored and would probably never have had, had I not known him.

And to be fair, I knew I often disappointed Steve too. For I was so much more conservative than he, that I would only accompany him on about a fourth of the adventures he cooked up for us.

Recalling all this now makes me realize something new about my friend: Steve had in his own way trained me to cope with the radical and unexpected. A skill which would serve me well in the years to follow. And hopefully would help in dealing with these new false memories as well.

Anyway, getting back to my own personal journey during those particular college days, I can remember I was highly dissatisfied with my life. At least, with those parts not made more interesting by Steve's little junkets. The problem was that Steve wasn't always around. I was responsible for my own entertainment and adventures during the 'Steve-less' times-- and I was plainly incompetent at the task.

I often wished that once in a while-- heck, even just once period!-- things would go a little differently. I wished that something else would happen for a change. What? I didn't know. And didn't care (so long as it was fun). I just wished that something new would happen. Something...different.

And something different did happen once at Tech. Regretfully, it didn't last long or go anywhere near as far as I'd hoped. But it did help make a bit of my time at Tech seem just a little brighter.

Her name was Ling Chen. She was a graduate student from Taiwan. Ling was stunning. Gorgeous enough to be intimidating, the first time we met.

It was one day not far into the fall quarter of my sophomore year. Something truly terrible had happened to me the summer just past. I was still trying to recover, and wishing more than ever for something different to come along to help me forget the preceding months.

"Hello? Excuse me, please?"

The words wafted down to me from above. I was under my car, trying to salvage a shock absorber I'd damaged in some rough and tumble driving. As the voice sounded feminine, I hastily made my way out from under the car, banging my head on the running board in the process. The rough, hard asphalt of the dorm parking lot caught my skull on the rebound.

"Damn," I muttered, momentarily blinded with pain. Thankfully it was the fast receding kind.

As I managed to get to my feet, checking my head for signs of blood, I was taken aback by Ling's appearance. She was beautiful. At least to this deeply sad and lonely college sophomore.

"Uhh...yeah?" was all I could get out.

"Oh. I'm sorry. You're hurt. My fault." She stepped closer and touched my head.

My normal reaction would have been a hasty recoil from her touch. My violence-filled past often made me reflexively cringe in response to unexpected physical contact. Even contact with the fairer sex.

Fortunately though, the pain from my one-two bump distracted me, and I just stood there as she examined my forehead. I quickly felt warm all over.

She looked Asian. Sort of. Her hair was long, sleek, and jet black. I remember thinking she was the prettiest Chinese girl I'd ever seen. But something about her appearance made it difficult to neatly classify her lineage...

(Years later I'd realize Ling must have been of a mixed heritage. Part Chinese, part European or American maybe. But wherever her ancestors hailed from, the result was a young woman who could have been a top fashion model.)

Though her clothes were modest and loose-fitting, it was apparent she had a body to match the face.

"No...uhhh...it was an accident. You're always getting hurt on one of these things," I said, as I lightly tapped a tire with my foot.

"Oh. I suppose I should not ask for your help to my car then?" Her face was fixed in disappointment.

"No, no-- I mean yeah, I'll help you if I can." Talking to girls frequently exasperated me. Especially when they were as pretty as this one. I would always get tongue-tied and say the wrong thing. Something about Ling's presence though seemed to be overpowering my usual introversion.

"Oh, thank you!" She smiled as if the day had suddenly changed for the better. She turned towards the road.

"My car just stopped here as driving I was past. I am not good with cars, unhappily."

Her words were a little strange, but her movements were lithe. I enjoyed watching her as she led the way through the parking lot. I even felt a little woozy. I guessed that was from the double knocks on the head underneath the car.

I realized I'd better start considering the problem, or else I'd seem like a complete idiot once we reached her vehicle.

"It just conked out on you as you were driving along?" I asked.

She stopped and looked back at me, with a questioning look on her face.

"It stopped. That I know. No else."

We reached the car. It was a blue Chevrolet Vega. For all intents and purposes a practically new automobile. It shouldn't have any serious problem, I figured happily.

"Are you sure you didn't just run out of gas?" I'd known several people notorious for neglecting to stop for gas. It was like they didn't realize you burnt fuel for every foot down the road you traveled.

"No. Full is tub."

I got the keys from her and slipped behind the wheel. Unsure of the value of her last mangled statement, I figured I'd switch on the ignition and check the gas gauge first thing.

I put the key in the ignition and turned the dash cluster on. It looked like there was plenty of gas.

The next logical move was to see what happened when I tried to crank the engine. I just hoped she hadn't run the battery into the ground before she'd come to me. I began plotting the exact route I'd have to take through the parking lot to get my car in boosting position relative to hers...

But the car started right away. I patted the gas just in case, but everything seemed fine. I kept thinking it'd die, but no.

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" Ling gushed as I climbed back out of the car. She rushed over and gave me a big kiss, smack on the lips.

"But-- I-- I didn't do anything!" I admitted, even as I felt my face begin to burn. She'd taken me by surprise with the kiss. I felt my face redden as I blushed in response. I got angry at the fact I was blushing, and felt cheated that her kiss had come and gone so fast I'd been unable to enjoy it. Pow! And it was gone. I could hardly even remember what it felt like. I still felt lightheaded, too.

It wasn't everyday I got a kiss from someone like her. And now it was over. I'd never see this girl again. For some reason I didn't like that notion at all--despite only just now meeting her! What the heck was wrong with me? I wondered, dizzily. Meanwhile, Ling had a few last words for me.

"Oh, but you did! It would not go for me, no. But for you, yes! Thank you!"

"Uh, I guess you're welcome," I wanted to say something else, to draw things out a little longer. But my mind was a blank. Heck, my head felt like it was spinning! Mainly I was waiting for the typical comments about my damned blushing to show up. But they never came.

"I am Ling Chen. Who are you?" she asked.

"Jerry. Jerry Staute," I replied. Then I pulled together all the courage and intellect I could muster, and went at her with it. Wishing mightily for my giddiness to go the hell away, at least for the next minute or two.

"Are you a student here? At Tech, I mean?" God, what a dumb question! I couldn't believe I'd voiced it! But Ling didn't seem to notice.

"Yes! I study electrical engineering and the computers." Damn! A girl engineering student! There weren't many of those in 1972.

"I'm studying engineering too!" I responded happily.

She'd given me the opening I needed. We stumbled about in our conversation for a few more minutes-- propelled by her enthusiasm, dragged by my shyness and unusually ill-working thinking processes-- until I discovered Ling seemed to share many of my own interests. We went into the reasons we'd chosen engineering, and this led into a whole slew of mutual pursuits like advanced computers, Alvin Toffler's book Future Shock, science fiction, and more.

I'd been attracted to Ling from the beginning by her great looks; now I began to genuinely like the person wearing the body, too.

Ling told me she was entering a contest involving essays about the future. There was a $2000 prize. We ended up meeting that weekend to brainstorm about it. Luckily I was eligible to enter too.

Over the next few weeks we spent several excited nights talking animatedly about the future.

I wanted Steve to meet her, but there was always something coming up to prevent it. Either the two had conflicting schedules, or little unexpected emergencies popped up to interfere with an introduction. Since Ling disappeared not long after, I never did get to show her off to any of my buddies. And no, there was no foul play involved or anything like that. She just called me one day on the dorm hallway phone and told me she had to go home to Taiwan, and that was it. She couldn't even finish out the quarter. She promised to send me her address later, but I never heard from her again (as I dropped out of Tech for a while soon after she left, that may have hampered contact too). Fortunately, I did get to spend some great times with her before all that.

One day Ling asked me in hushed tones if I could keep a secret. She said there was a restricted access lab in the basement of one of the engineering buildings. Since she worked in the lab she had keys, both to it and the building. After midnight one Thursday night, she took me to see it.

She insisted on blindfolding me so that I wouldn't know which building it was. I thought it was silly, but didn't resist. Sitting in her Vega on the way it amused me to imagine her car quitting again, forcing her to remove my blindfold anyway. But it didn't happen. We arrived, and Ling had to carefully help me down a stairway to an entrance in the back of the building. The steps didn't help much as a clue; practically all the buildings had them. I knew we were entering the back way however, from the steps going down rather than up. All the engineering buildings subscribed to a similar outside steps layout.

We entered the outer doors, walked a surprisingly short distance down a hallway, and entered another door on our left, before she'd let me remove the blindfold. This move meant I couldn't look for clues in the building's corridor as to my whereabouts.

We were in darkness until Ling switched on a flashlight. I caught glimpses of signs warning against unauthorized personnel, and symbols for radioactive materials. Ling used the light to point at a rack of coveralls hanging against one wall. We each put on a set. They incorporated small, boxy looking backpacks, and hoods which fully enclosed the wearer's head and face. Hoses dangled here and there about the gear.

My heart pounded with excitement as we donned the near space suit-looking things. This was getting as good as one of Steve's impromptu adventures. What would happen if we were caught? What sort of experiments went on in this place?

Ling stood before me, shining the light in my eyes through the small window in the front of my hood. The thin suit layer felt strange against my skin. My breathing was loud inside the hood.

"I must pressurize your suit now," she informed me. "Don't worry, feels strange," she said, then unexpectedly clicked off the light.

Suddenly I felt cold all over. A surprisingly stiff pressure gripped every inch of my body for a fraction of a second. It was especially noticeable in my eyes and ears. Then I had a momentary choking sensation-- like a drink had gone down the wrong way (though I had swallowed nothing). With Ling's light switched off, everything was utterly black.

For just the briefest instant it'd seemed like my body tried to reflexively respond to the pressure and couldn't. Even my breathing seemed constricted in that moment. But it all happened so fast-- like maybe just half a second-- that it seemed entirely possible I'd only imagined it.

The air now had a faint metallic taste to it.

"That felt weird," I muttered.

Light silently exploded into existence from my left, through some small windows in another set of doors. As my eyes adjusted I saw I was standing in a small alcove adjacent to a much larger room. The doors we'd originally entered were to my right. Ling had switched on a bank of overhead fluorescents in the lab beyond the small room we now occupied.

Ling pulled open a door and we went in. The lab was a chaotic jumble of equipment, much like in the movies. A child's paradise of glittering things to be examined and endlessly re-arranged.

"Aren't you afraid somebody will see the lights?" I asked Ling, my voice sounding strange and harsh inside the suit.

"No windows outside," Ling's hazard suited form gestured towards the other sides of the great room. "And doors' cover here," her muffled voice continued.

Ling undid a large roll of canvas that was bound above the double doors we'd just come through. I moved to help. The material slithered down to completely cover the entrance. It fit just about perfectly, with no extra to lay limply on the floor.

Yep, it'd be hard for anybody to notice any light through that thing, I figured. It looked like it'd reduce sound passage too. But that quality was a two-edged sword; outsiders might not hear us easily, but neither would we get much warning of their approach.

"Are you sure nobody else is going to show up? What if one of your classmates decides to do a late night experiment or something?"

Ling's suit completely concealed her face but for a rectangular window before her eyes. "Joel away for weekend, parents' house. Professor Koszal only here Mondays and Wednesdays, just mornings. Others come only with invite. Like you." I got the impression Ling was smiling behind her mask.

"Okay." Now that I was here, I was unsure about how to proceed. I didn't want to seem dumb or a wimp, but the roles seemed inevitable.

"Umm, is there radioactive stuff in here?" I asked.

"Some small quantity. Suits necessary for protect experiments from us, not us from experiments."

"Huh?"

"Human beings very trashy. It natural. Always shed skin and hair and oil, see? All this shed gums up things in experiments."

"Oh. Okay," I agreed more out of a desire to move on, than anything else.

"Only need suits here in big lab. My lab okay, not need suits." Ling was moving towards the far end of the cavernous room.

"Your lab? I thought this was your lab."

"This Professor Koszal's and Joel's lab. Also for classes. Many students here twice weekly. My lab here."

Sure enough, we came upon a door with a little black plaque on it, with Ling's name inscribed in white letters.

"Take off suits now," Ling told me after we'd entered and shut the door behind us. I was glad to comply. I didn't notice any repeat of the strange sensations when I removed the suit in Ling's lab. But for some reason putting it on or taking it off in the outer alcove was always accompanied with the weird, instantaneous pressure differential and other odd feelings from the original encounter. I soon wrote it off to the suit pressurization and filtration systems, after Ling explained the pressurization was negative in the suits: that is, the suits maintained a slightly lower pressure inside them relative to the outside air, so air from the lab would only come in rather than suit air exit, and everything be filtered at that. So the suits could leave you feeling a little breathless, as well as cling to you all over like a wrinkly second skin, and feel somewhat restrictive. Basically in a suit the air was as thin as that of a higher elevation, like atop a mountain. Some students would get claustrophobic and even sick in the suits, according to Ling.

Unfortunately, I got sick too. Nauseous, and dizzy enough to almost fall over. I'd never suffered from claustrophobia before in my life. Ling told me there was also an unusual level of ionization in the air of her lab, plus some out-gassing of various volatiles necessary to keep her equipment in good working order. Ling gave me a drink and a pill which eased my distress practically immediately. She said that on occasion she needed the pill too.

On my first lab visit I was forced to sit down and stay put for maybe 15 minutes before I felt well enough to do much more. Ling was very patient with me, and tried to keep the conversation as light and pleasant as possible until her pill worked its magic.

The initial feelings of sickness and dizziness would plague me upon first entering Ling's lab every time we did so thereafter-- but over time I would become more and more accustomed to it, and so less bothered. After a while I built up sufficient resistance that I no longer needed Ling's pills.

Ling's lab was a lot smaller than the other. It was oddly shaped, with dimensions more like a long, wide corridor than a room. All her equipment was arranged in a parade-like procession down its length. At this end, near the door, sat a very business-like desk amid walls lined with bookshelves and file cabinets. It was all very neat.

"What exactly is it that you do in here, Ling?" I asked as I stood up from my chair, in a test to see if my stomach had finally found itself. It seemed it had. My voice seemed unnaturally loud in the narrow space.

"Magic!" Ling whispered, smiling.

"Well, that's good. I could use a little magic, just about now." I suddenly felt more gregarious as my stomach seemed to be settling down. Thoughts of amore flitted about my brain.

Ling and I got along great. We'd been doing things together for weeks by this point, and become pretty chummy.

Unfortunately, our relationship hadn't progressed beyond the friendship stage. I knew if Steve had been in my place, he'd have had Ling in bed already by now. Probably a dozen times. But I wasn't nearly as good as Steve at finding (or creating) the proper moment for an advance.

I was also amazed by the strength of attraction I felt towards Ling. It hadn't been all that long since Bridget's death, and I'd had practically zero desire woman-wise ever since-- until Ling showed up. And she was so utterly different from Bridget, too. Was that part of the attraction? I had no idea. The whole Ling thing just seemed...too good to be true. I was so intensely attracted to her that I'd often find my head spinning in her presence. It reminded me of the strength of my original Sue Anne crush in high school. Only here it seemed even stronger (which seemed absurd in itself)! But just maybe it felt stronger this time because Ling seemed to like me too.

Fortunately Ling didn't seem to mind the extra faux pas and clumsiness my frequent wooziness around her brought out in me. She often found such stuff entertaining, it seemed.

Hopefully my chance would come here in the lab. Ling was showing off her procession of gadgets, which seemed to scale up in size the deeper they sat within the long and narrow room. We were strolling past progressively bigger apparatus in her mini-tour.

Just about everything Ling said went right over my head. Only occasionally did something come by that I could partially recognize. Plus, my thoughts were more occupied with lust than technology at the moment.

At the end of the line however, Ling positively radiated with enthusiasm. This last monstrosity was evidently her pride and joy.

"...in artificial reality! You must try, Jerry!" she exclaimed at the end of her little speech. Uh oh. I realized I'd missed something important.

"I don't know Ling. I don't think I understand this 'artificial reality' stuff. It looks more like an especially dangerous bath tub to me," I laughed nervously. It did look slightly wicked. We were standing before something resembling a padded bath tub, surrounded by all sorts of complex electrical gear. It looked like a death trap. Or torture chamber, perhaps.

If that wasn't scary enough, there hung immediately over it an upside down version of same. Hefty seals along the edges (and masses of cables and pulleys) seemed to indicate that the two huge things came together at some point in her mad scientist routine.

"Please, Jerry! I need help. I can run machines and I can be test subject, but need second opinion on results! Please do this? For me? Please?"

What had I gotten myself into? She'd barely mentioned anything like this in all our previous conversations. Was Ling some sort of Frankenstein in woman's clothing? On the other hand, she'd sure make a pretty Frankenstein out of her clothing!

"Um, Ling, I don't know about this..."

"It is perfect safe Jerry. You wish me prove it?"

I couldn't think of any way on Earth she could prove to me the thing was harmless. I avoided committing myself. "Like how?"

"Look!" Ling pushed past me, rushing back to her desk at the far end of the room, near where we'd entered. I reluctantly followed. All this was not turning out like I'd hoped.

"Ling, what if we checked with Professor Koszal first--" I began, seeking to postpone volunteering myself to be electrocuted.

"No! Professor Koszal with U.S. Army. Not good. Look!"

Ling slapped a thick notebook filled with charts and notes down on the desk. She flipped about it to show me particular sections. There were drawings of her bath tub there. Schematics of electronics. The original proposal, and what the goals were. Computer simulated reality: artificial reality. But Ling didn't have any computer here.

"Ling, where's your computer?" I asked smugly, thinking I now had her on a technicality.

"Lab connected to Computer Science mainframe. See?" She pointed to something I hadn't noticed amid all the other equipment; a computer terminal several feet removed from her desk, sitting between some big switch boxes atop one of her larger device cabinets. Anybody using it would have to be standing when they did so. The screen was dead at the moment, though.

I didn't challenge her claim; it looked possible. I turned back to the notebook.

Ling was pointing at a different chart. This one listed experiments which had been performed, along with results. Apparently Ling had tested the gadgetry on herself after all. There were many comment sections filled in with references to accounts in another volume.

"And here," she said, placing a second notebook atop the first one, "is journal of subjective experiences!"

I had to admit there was a lot of documentation here, and that past experiments had seemed to work out well enough. I also found the logs of her experiences inside the machine intriguing. They sure didn't sound like things that could've happened inside the strangely rigged bath tub.

"I still don't know, Ling..."

"I prove it. I set up test. Just for you."

I watched her grab a clipboard and begin setting dials and flicking switches. The computer terminal came to life, among other things. A multitude of electronic hums filled the room. A slight whiff of scorched dust quickly became evident.

Ling typed some at the keyboard, waited for the results, and then turned back to me, her posture changed now to one more subdued.

"One reason I no like others in experiment, is embarrassing," she said, smiling sheepishly.

"What do you mean?"

"Body is interface to brain. Experiment need good connection. So test subject must be unclothed."

"Oh." I hadn't noticed any mention of this in the notebooks. "So not only would I have to crawl into your electric tub--" I almost said 'tub of death'-- "but I'd have to be buck naked too?"

"If mean no clothes, yes. Clothes no good."

I laughed.

"Ling, I'm sorry; but I'm not taking off my clothes and jumping in your tub," unless you come with me, I thought. But continued aloud "This whole thing's a little too radical for me."

"No. I show you. I do experiment many times. Is safe. Just need other subject for other point of view," she told me, as she headed back to the far end of the room once more. I followed. Once beside the tub again, Ling's expression turned serious. She looked down and began to unbutton her blouse.

"Umm, Ling?"

"Yes?" she replied, without looking up or slowing her actions.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing? Getting ready to take one of your baths, here?"

"Yes. Will do experiment. Show you." She looked up again. Her eyes met mine as she undid the last buttons, and pulled her shirt tail out of her skirt.

What was I supposed to do? I thought I should look away, but it was difficult to avoid stealing glances at her as she undressed. Her disrobing excited me and added to my confusion. What would Steve do in this situation? I wondered.

"You wait for me? Wait to finish experiment?" she asked, as she bent over to step out of her skirt.

"Uh, yeah. Sure Ling." My mouth was dry. "How long does it take, anyway?"

"About twenty minutes normal," she replied, as she undid her bra and slipped out of its confines.

I was surprised to see no tan lines anywhere on Ling as she disrobed. Her skin's healthy sun-kissed glow was absolutely uniform all over.

Even the girls in Steve's centerfold magazines usually displayed some minimal tan lines, or a mismatch in skin tones somewhere on their bodies.

But that wasn't all. I was discovering Ling had absolutely zero skin blemishes or discoloring of any kind. No birthmarks. No moles. No freckles. No scars. Nothing. Her complexion appeared to be perfect, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

There wasn't even the visible hints of blood veins showing through especially thin and delicate spots in the skin, so far as I could tell.

I'd never in my life seen a person with perfect skin like that. Especially not all over! Heck, until I beheld all of Ling's amazing surface area, I'd never even imagined such people existed!

At that moment I thought Ling the prettiest girl I'd ever seen out of her clothes. Even prettier than Dana or Bridget-- agh! I instantly hated myself for that thought! I'm sorry Bridget! I mentally broadcast into the cosmos. I'm not thinking straight for some reason! And truthfully-- objectively-- surely Ling wasn't prettier than Dana either. But somehow all my objectivity seemed missing in action around Ling.

I didn't want Ling to step into that electronic tub; I wanted something else.

Her movements entranced me. She was carefully smoothing out and folding her clothes as she removed them, building a neat pile atop a nearby shoulder-high cabinet.

She pulled off her panties and completed the pile. Then she leaned over to spool her oil slick black hair into something akin to a bathing cap with a thick wire tail hanging from it, and pulled the elastic head covering the rest of the way onto her noggin.

The cap was laced with wires which bunched together into a large connector. The connector was attached to a heavy cable, which hung like a thick multicolored braid of hair down her back. I missed her long black tresses. But her magnificent nudity helped make up for it.

She sidled over a wide counter-like surface to land in the tub. She bounced a little once inside.

Ling's nude perfection absolutely demanded my attention. It was difficult to look at anything else. However, once she was in the tub, I noticed for the first time that a fine, light colored mesh held her body suspended several inches above the actual floor of the tub. Through the generous gaps in the mesh work I could see a profusion of thin metal cylinders and wires beyond.

"Are you sure you'll be okay Ling?"

"Yes. Do this many times. Only dislike redundancy this test, get no new data. And not habit of me do this before another."

I felt myself blush with a mixture of guilt and pleasure. Then I remembered something. "But this is what you were asking me to do, wasn't it?"

Ling smiled. "Yes. I see some discomfort, yours. And you don't know-- or trust-- my work like I."

Ling twisted half around and connected her skull cap cable to another protruding from a hole in the mesh. There was a different, and stiffer cable, with a little box attached to the end laying nearby. She took it into her right hand.

"This button start and stop experiment. First click start, second click stop."

"It sounds simple enough," I admitted, as I tried to drag my eyes away from her now prone form. I marveled at the mix of magazine centerfold and science fiction tableau before me; Steve simply would not believe this!

I looked up at the matching inverted tub overhead and saw a similar mesh, backed by shining cylinders and multicolored wiring of its own. But where Ling's face would fit, it differed from the floor component: possessing a large, smooth, white cavity of a thing, sort of shaped like two upside down bowls mating. Or two cells dividing. Or looking at the outer contours of a woman's breasts from the inside...

"What is that thing?" I asked, pointing.

"That is projection screen. For eyes."

"Oh." I said, not really understanding. It looked awfully small for a projection screen. And all the screens I'd ever seen before were flat, not deeply curved like this one.

"When I press button, bulkheads come together, body wrap adjusts to fit me-- fit me close," Ling explained.

"Body wrap?" I queried.

"The net under me. And above. It backed by many small hydraulic cylinders, which insure a good connection to body surface. Only thin seam along sides escape coverage."

"But-- hydraulics!" I burst out. Hydraulics are often powerful mechanisms that can serve to crush stuff in massive presses, among other things. The process gives enormous leverage to a small amount of force, as in the case of automobile braking, where a driver's tap on the brake pedal uses a hydraulic system to bring tons of machinery to a rapid halt, even from the most extreme of speeds. Bulldozers and other heavy construction equipment also make great use of hydraulics. Ergo, active hydraulics could be a dangerous thing to allow in close proximity to one's body. "What if they crush you?" I asked her.

Ling smiled. "That impossible. Have many safeguards. If something fails, pressure just bleeds down. It is harder to make it press against me than go away."

Not having had the chance to study her systems for myself, I felt lots more uncertain than Ling about the matter. Plus, if the hydraulics could see what I did of Ling, they might be more prone to press against her than she thought...Grrr!

"Well, what about another 'off' switch? Is there one out here I can use if something goes wrong?"

"Anything you do in lab probably stop experiment. But a good off switch is..." Ling scanned the nearby area and then pointed. "There. That switch interrupts experiment good."

It was a huge antique-looking switch that would have been right at home on the set of an old Frankenstein movie. This seemed a bad omen. But I had no logical argument for stopping her.

"I hope you do experiment after I prove safe," Ling said, then pressed the button in her hand.

The two great shells slowly began to come together, accompanied by various multiple whirring noises. I had to relinquish my sitting position on the sill of the tub. Ling was smiling, facing straight upward into the descending mass, but watching my reaction from the corners of her eyes.

I was relieved to see no water was involved. The bath tub shape had suggested it to me, and inspired fears of the old 'electrocution via radio in the tub' scenario.

The great contraption closed around her like an enormous mouth-- only much more slowly than any biological maw. I heard a loud click, and followed the sound to a big lab timer which hung on the wall, apparently hooked into the experiment. It was one of the same black faced boxes like I used in my physics lab class elsewhere on campus.

The next twenty minutes crawled by. All Ling's machines hummed monotonously. No sounds at all emanated from Ling's bloated electronic capsule. In Ling's absence, and with nothing else to occupy my mind, my earlier nausea and dizziness seemed to be on the verge of returning. I tried to hold them back with willpower alone. I hadn't noticed before where Ling kept her pills.

Was it possible my present nausea was really a sign of my deepening feelings for Ling? Because of concern for her inside that weird giant machine? It was true that I was prone to fall for women too fast and too hard. I'd resolved not to do that ever again (if I could help it).

When the timer passed the twenty minute mark I began to get increasingly anxious. Could something be wrong? Should I throw the switch?

I knew from experience that I tended to jump the gun on things. So I tried to restrain myself from any rash actions. After all, she'd said 'about' twenty minutes-- not 'exactly'. I silently fretted and debated with myself for another couple of minutes, and then rushed over to the oversized electrical switch.

I was just about to throw it when the timer loudly clicked again. The sudden noise made me jump.

Ling's metal cocoon began opening up of its own accord.

I strained to peer through the widening gap, to see if Ling was all right. She turned and saw me, and reached her hand to mine. Her touch was comforting.

As the top half approached its maximum height, Ling sat up and unplugged her head gear.

I helped her over the wide counter-like lip of the machine. Damn, but she was gorgeous! Especially alive and well. Even if she was wearing a bathing cap with a riot of multicolored wiring sprouting out the top, like a naked carrot woman from Mars.

"See? Very easy. Even fun, can be," Ling gave me a hopeful smile.

"I'm just glad you're okay."

"Of course okay! I not build inferior equipment!"

"I didn't mean that," I offered weakly.

Ling's demeanor changed; softened. Her shoulders sagged.

"Will you try it? Please? I must know what other feels in my synthetic world."

"Umm...uh...you mean right now?" Though Ling's reappearance had helped quiet my stomach once again, I truly wondered if I might get sick in her tub thingy.

"Yes!" Ling's eyes shined bright with enthusiasm.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt anything..." I offered. I saw no easy way out of it.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, Jerry! I have come to obstacle in research, with no other subjects but me. Professor Koszal and Joel offered, but..." she looked away.

"But what?" I asked, concerned. Had they gotten out of line with her?

She turned back to face me again. "But I think they interested in...something else than test."

"Huh? Ohhh..." I felt uncomfortable. Ling was blushing now, for the first time since I'd known her. Her perfect complexioned blush was a sight in itself. Oh man, how could a woman possibly look this good!?

"But you...different. Could be good friend," she concluded, then stood up and moved to the file cabinet where her clothes lay.

Oh great, I thought to myself; another girl who likes me 'for a friend'. The possibility of sex suddenly seemed to rush off into the distance. For some reason this upset me much worse than usual. I tried to shake it off. What the heck was wrong with me? I sure was getting easily overwrought here. It almost felt like I'd been drinking or something. But I hadn't!

Ling was already back in her underwear, re-fastening her bra. Her blush was fading now, though a blotchy redness still glowed in the center of her chest.

"Have only one artificial reality now. Hope you like it."

"Huh?" My disappointment was weighing heavily upon me. My hopes for landing Ling in the sack were dashed. I felt a little angry. I knew I was going overboard emotion-wise, but it seemed like I couldn't help it.

"My artificial reality. I hope you like it," Ling reiterated.

It was then that I was struck full force with the fact Ling was expecting me to disrobe and climb into her infernal gadget. I'd pretty much agreed to, only a moment before. But then...after she had what she wanted, she'd informed me I had no chance with her, and jumped back into her clothes.

I felt teased, cheated, and used. Wow! For some reason I seemed to be reverting to my worst moments of emotional immaturity in high school! Some small part of me recognized this, and struggled to keep me from blowing up at Ling. Fought to prevent me from repeating certain past mistakes, here.

"Something wrong Jerry?" Ling was buttoning her shirt. Her skirt was still laying on the file cabinet, but it was difficult for me to enjoy the fact. The wire cap was gone, and her long shiny black hair was free once again. She moved nearer to me again.

"No." My thoughts were in turmoil. Part of me wanted to storm out of the lab in anger, thereby upsetting her carefully laid plans. Another portion bristled at my impulse to go back on my word, and berated my cowardice at duplicating the acts this girl had just completed. The eternal optimist part chided me for my pessimism. I'd only known Ling for a short time; there was no telling how the relationship might go; she'd exhibited a lot of trust and confidence in me over the last hour; would I reward her with a childish temper tantrum? Yet another voice came from my curious side: just what did her machine do, anyway? Mightn't it be interesting to see? Steve would probably do it in my place.

"Some components in equipment have limited life under current. Therefore I prefer maintain power feeds only with use," Ling looked at me inquiringly.

"Or in other words, you wish I'd get on with it. Right?"

Ling smiled wordlessly. Cute as a button in her skirt-less state. Cute-as-a-damn-button.

"I guess I might as well get this over with," I began unbuttoning my shirt somewhat self-consciously.

Ling burst into a flurry of activity to prep a repeat of the test, at the end of which she returned with the skull cap in her hands. I was just unbuttoning my pants. I almost faltered and turned around in modesty. But Ling hadn't. I'd be damned if this girl would be bolder than me in this instance! In order to avoid further embarrassment, I had to try not to think of Ling's still missing skirt. And pretty much everything else about her, too. Grr!

As my underwear joined the rest of my clothing pile, I felt my skin burn. Ling laughed at my embarrassment, which didn't improve matters any-- except for aiding me in my efforts not to show arousal at that moment.

"Okay, give me that headache generator of yours," I snapped, as I snatched the headset from her.

I spun about and strode purposely to the nearby tub as I pulled on the electric cap. It'd take another session or two for me to realize there was no way to look dignified walking along naked with a rubber cap on your head, sprouting two feet of multicolored wires.

Ling caught up with me at the tub.

"Wait, Jerry! I must certain the taps are proper position..."

Ling pulled and tugged for a moment at the cap, as I stood silent and uncomfortable before her. I could detect her warm aroma. I realized that if I'd been a bit faster on preparing to enter the tub, Ling might be standing here now as naked as I was....Damn, was I stupid! I was certain Steve wouldn't have made that error in my place!

"I will normalize specifications to your readings in prep stage," Ling said, maybe more to herself than to me.

"I guess you know I don't get naked and jump into a tub for just anyone," I said gruffly, as she made her adjustments.

"Yes. I agree," she responded, her eyes flashing across mine. I wasn't sure what she meant. Probably, she hadn't fully understood what I'd said. Oh well.

"What am I supposed to do in this thing for twenty minutes, anyway?" I asked; really wanting to ask instead if two could fit in it at once.

"Just relax. Let machine do everything."

"That's it? That's all?"

"Yes."

How disappointing, I thought.

"How will I know when to press the 'stop' button?"

"No need that. Timer automates process. Button is only fail-safe."

"So I need never use the button?"

"Only to start test, that's all. There! Skull cap should be A-Okay now."

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you in about twenty minutes Ling." I sat down on the shelf-like edge of the tub and started to slide over it. The damn sill was colder than I expected. At least I didn't let out an involuntary yelp, though.

Ling stopped me with a touch on my shoulder, then stooped over and brushed my cheek with her lips. "Thank you Jerry," Ling whispered in my ear. My skin tingled from the warmth of her breath.

"You're welcome Ling." My emotions and thoughts churned in confusion again. I slid myself over and into the waiting web.

I was surely one goddamned hell of an idiot! What if all this was just some sort of elaborate prank? Something cooked up by Steve, with help from his fraternity? Maybe some frat guy knew about an artificial reality project on campus, and they were able to talk a hot sorority sister from Taiwan into playing along...

It'd be the perfect way for Steve to get back at me for not accompanying him in any of his public streaks of the past...yeah, I'd be naked now when I should have been naked then, from his perspective...man oh man, was I really doing something dumb here?

The tub web was firm; I swayed only a couple of times with each movement I made to get comfortable.

Ling sat on the sill and plugged in my headset cable. Then she put the button-on-a-stalk into my hand.

"Remember: second press only needed for problems," she advised.

"I'll keep that in mind," I tried to say nonchalantly. But I was noticing a chill in the room, now that I was devoid of clothing.

"As machine closes you feel nets tighten around you. They do this for good contact with skin. The net gives you signals too."

"How tight does it get?"

"Tight, but little freedom still. The net moves with you a bit."

"Sounds like fun," I said with sarcasm I was sure Ling did not get.

"The fun is in brain. You see. You may press button now."

"Okey dokey." I pressed the button quickly so I wouldn't have the chance to do more thinking about it.

I felt a slight vibration in the web under me, and watched the device above get bigger as it drew nearer. As my view of Ling between the tub halves narrowed, I silently prayed I wouldn't see Steve's face pop up in the gap at the last moment, laughing with glee-- soon joined with a bunch from his fraternity. Yeah, wouldn't that be great? Get me trapped in the tub all laid out naked, with the gap too small to allow for my escape or even much movement at all, and then turn tour guide for all the brothers-- 'Come one, come all! See Mr. Gullible of 1972!'

But nothing like that happened. In a minute or two I was completely enclosed. It became difficult to see the tub interior because the white face mask occupied almost my entire field of vision.

Then I felt lots of small, cold touches on my backside; Ling's hydraulic form fitters. A moment later similar touches came from above. As everything tightened up the inside of the face mask came to block out all other images.

The cocoon warmed up some, for which I was grateful. I reassured myself by tightening my grip on the panic-button in my right-hand.

I felt the pressure points of the net start to vibrate. The motion was tiny, but soon developed a rhythm, or regular pulsation.

Curiously, before long I lost all sensation of the net's touch. I supposed it was some sensory trick of the vibrating cords. I felt more like I was floating on air, than swaying suspended in something akin to a hammock.

A sudden aroma came to my attention and opened the floodgates of my memories. I recalled standing among gently rolling grassy hills, which stretched as far as the eye could see. My cousin and I were looking for Indian arrowheads. The green hills were a part of my grandfather's farm. I couldn't remember the season, but it was pleasantly warm, and the grass wasn't very tall at all.

The face mask part of Ling's apparatus, while still blank, now emitted a gentle glow. Its blankness seemed to form a fog which defied my perceptions of distance. Though I knew it was only inches from me, it could just as well have been an immense gray wall miles and miles away.

I began to detect faint sounds for the first time since closure. Then I noticed the glow before me was gradually becoming less homogeneous.

Suddenly it seemed as if I'd burst forth from a great bank of gray mist. The view of an awesome height greeted me, as a wholly unexpected scene filled my vision.

I heard the roar of fast moving wind in my ears and (much less so) the whine of an engine. I felt pressure on the soles of my feet, and realized I seemed to be standing atop an airplane in full flight (standing atop the topmost wing, while someone else sat in the pilot seat below). It was an old fashioned bi-plane of World War I vintage I believe. One of those very early flying contraptions which could feel lots more comfortable and even car-like to the occupants, than anything which came after, tech-wise. As those biplanes only flew at speeds comparable to 1970s automobiles, it was conceivable that pilots and passengers could survive crashes in them with statistics similar to auto travel. But with the difference that there were far fewer obstacles for the biplane to collide with in the air, than a car faced on the ground. These early planes were good gliders too-- and so safer in that manner as well than newer designs. You might land about as well with a dead motor as a live one, in these beauties.

Surplus biplanes from World War One had created the first and only fun and practical opportunity to possess their own aircraft that many non-rich folks worldwide had ever known before-- or since. And by that I mean aircraft which were about as easily maintained as a car, often didn't require airports for take offs or landings (as only relatively short runways were required, and the stubby stacked wings didn't stick out too far on the sides either), and were maybe as safe or safer than a car to use (for those suitably trained to fly them). I wondered when-- or even if-- such an opportunity would ever come again.

A vast emptiness yawned before and below me. Some miles straight ahead loomed a dark, angry looking storm front. Tiny flashes of lightning darted far below, between it and the hapless earth. My eyelids fluttered from a strong breeze striking my face. Occasionally I could make out a faint peal of thunder from the approaching storm. Different scents whipped by, almost too quickly for me to recognize. The ozone of ionized air, and the earthy smell of rain seemed to run through the wind like veins of minerals through the earth; the plane would pass through them at random intervals in its course. Alternating sensations of cold wind blasts and warm updrafts brought goose bumps to my flesh. A new sound, a still greater rushing roar, grew in my ears. I couldn't tell the direction it came from. The storm clouds ahead became fuzzy about their edges, and a faint mist seemed to spring up between them and me. I looked up and saw a light gray shelf of cloud high above, which was preceding the storm. The mist seemed to be a part of it.

Then I felt cold, stinging touches on my skin, and heard lots of small impacts. Rain! Hitting me and the plane! The realism of the hard hitting wetness took me by surprise.

I started to say 'nice touch' just in case Ling could hear me, but at precisely that moment a gust of wind shook the plane hard, and I fell off.

It was too real. I felt the tumble of free fall, and could see the sky and landscape spinning around me. There was simultaneously a confusing pressure on my limbs and head that made me feel like I was tied up, and things began to take on a nightmarish tone.

I was deafened by some terribly loud racket, that turned out to be my own involuntary yell of fear and surprise inside the tub.

Presently I recovered my wits enough to press the panic button, which I could feel but not see in my right hand.

Everything changed.

Though it was a relief to escape the fall, still the abruptness of the transition was jarring. The wind, the rain, the sounds, and the smells all disappeared, as if by the flick of a switch. Which of course was exactly how it happened.

"All you all right Jerry?" Ling's words drifted under the lip of the now dark upper tub, shortly after it'd begun its ascent.

"I-- mmph" I replied. First overwhelmed by Ling's artistry, then shocked by the all-too-real fall, and now stunned by the instantanous change in my surroundings, I found it difficult to speak or move for a few seconds.

"Jerry! Talk at me! You hurt? Need know!" Ling was now laying across the sill of the great machine, prodding and probing my body-- especially my head, turning it from side to side in her examination.

"Mmmbugow" I got out, then realized the incoherence of my mumblings.

"I'm fine Ling...fine...I just need a second to get my barn-- I mean my bearings." I shook my head. I began to realize my general perpetual giddiness around Ling, plus the added dizziness of her lab environment, topped off by her spectacular tub experiment, had probably all combined to briefly incapacitate me there.

Relief washed over Ling's features. "So you not hurt? Nowhere?"

"No-- I mean, I don't think I am. I'm really not sure, to tell you the truth." With Ling's help I sat up in the tub. Ling unplugged and removed my headgear. "It was like I couldn't move, Ling."

"Me think you struggled, move extra far for machine allow."

"Yeah, maybe." Ling's always mangled speech seemed even more so at the moment. We were now both sitting side-by-side on the tub sill.

"So you okay? Really okay?"

"Yeah, I seem to be." But I wasn't. A few hours later I would notice tenderness in several places, where I'd banged myself up some inside Ling's machine.

"What your opinion of my--" Ling seemed to grope for her next words "-- distraction engine?"

I tried mightily then to hide any expression of stunned surprise I might have, and went into high mischief mode.

"Well, I was just wondering when the show was going to start. Sorry Ling, but it's pretty boring just laying there staring into gray limbo the whole time. I guess I fell asleep and then woke up with a start when I felt the machine restricting my movements," I told her, as completely deadpan as I could muster. I began enjoying the charade so much it required every bit of will power I had to remain stone-faced. Especially when I saw Ling's reaction.

Ling's smile faded, and her jaw dropped.

"You saw nothing? Experienced nothing? Nothing at all?"

"Well, there was this really cold place on my right elbow for a few minutes, but that probably won't be too hard to fix," I embellished my joke, trying to keep all my facial muscles relaxed, and the beaming smile I felt coming on in check. But then I ruined it all by sniggering, which quickly turned into a full, sustained belly laugh.

Ling looked dumbfounded.

"You should see the expression on your face, Ling! Ha, ha!" Ling's obvious confusion and dismay made the whole thing still more hilarious.

"I-- I not understand, Jerry. All readings appeared positive. What could trouble be? The-- the cold spot, this was all you detected?"

This made me laugh even harder.

Then understanding broke out on her face, and a vengeful smile crossed her features.

"You lie! My machine work perfectly! You deceive me! Purposely!" Ling made a fist and bounced it off my chest. I grabbed her arm and waist so as to blunt her attack, as my laughing wound down.

"I-- I do not know what you think! This important!" Ling beseeched me, struggling against my hold.

I laughed again. "I was only joking, Ling. Yes, your dream machine works great. I was amazed at the realism you've managed to build into it. But I just had to see what you'd do when I told you that it'd been dead the whole time."

Anger and relief conflicted in her expression. It was outrageously funny to behold. She stopped struggling, so I relaxed my grip on her. She didn't move away.

"So you saw? You heard? You felt?" Her questions had gotten progressively quieter as one followed another. She was looking directly into my eyes now, and I realized I was losing the upper hand here. Hormones at high tide are an irresistible force.

"Yes, I stood atop a plane, flying into a rainstorm. I felt the wind, the rain, and heard the whole racket."

"Was real to you?"

"Surprisingly so. You'll have to explain to me how you accomplish some of those things."

"I will."

I felt the impulse to kiss her, but then remembered what she'd said about Joel and the Professor. I didn't want to chance losing her at this early stage of things.

"I-- I guess I can put my clothes back on now, huh?" I hoped she'd say 'no'.

"Yes. We not do second test tonight."

I didn't make any move to do so, wanting to prolong this moment as long as I could. But I was also becoming stimulated from the circumstances.

"You know Ling, you're a lot of fun to be with," I let go my grip on her wrist, and moved my hand to her shoulder. Ling laid her released hand onto my own.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because-- well, all these interesting things you're doing, and thinking about. I mean, I guess, just who you are."

"I unsure your meaning," her brow furrowed.

"Hell, I'm not sure either," I looked down, away from her eyes, and remembered my nakedness. I quickly looked up again. "Whoops! I almost forgot I have no clothes on!"

Ling smiled and purred "Good. Experiments require more same."

I realized that if we didn't disengage soon from this mutual admiration thing I could be faced with a much more embarassing situation than mere nudity. Being this close to Ling, and naked, was intoxicating to me.

"Umm, well, I better let you get back to your switches and things, I guess."

"Yes--" she began, as I went for it. Nothing outrageous, just a quick kiss on one cheek, the same as she'd given me before. I figured that was safe enough. Hoped it would be.

I timed my movements so that I let go of her just as my lips brushed her cheek. But an unexpected restraint foiled my designs; Ling didn't let go of me.

Though I admit I liked this set of circumstances enormously, it also created problems for any subsequent matters of diplomatic backpedaling, if such became necessary. For Ling's unexpected clinging opened up some hormonal floodgates somewhere, making my desire impossible to camouflage.

Ling smiled at me. "So you unsure too?"

"Yes. Very. I--" Our lips met, and we exchanged our first real kiss. It was great!

But a minute or so later Ling gently but firmly disentangled herself from me, smiling, and graciously ignoring my own state of over-stimulation.

"I like you, Jerry. But now good time to get dressed I think," Ling said, nodding her head up and down and doing her best not to look in a certain direction.

Too elated to feel any pangs of disappointment, I agreed, and hurriedly threw on my clothes as best I could.

The next day I was bruised over much of my body, and sore. Evidently I'd thrashed about pretty violently in Ling's tub during my imaginary fall.

But that was pretty much the extent of the bad news. The good news was Ling's feelings of guilt over it all.

It was open house at my dorm. Ling came over and made my soreness almost disappear with her presence alone. I thoroughly enjoyed her company. I marveled inwardly about how I seemed to be nearing with Ling the comfort level and camaraderie I'd previously experienced only with my friend Dana-- and to a certain extent Bridget as well. Combine that with Ling's exquisite looks and sex appeal, and you got a recipe for maybe my favorite person in the world, ever! I hoped Bridget would forgive me; but I felt I badly needed this.

I couldn't wait for Steve to meet Ling; he'd be shocked, I was sure!

I went into the tub again about a week later. I was still a little tender in spots, but most of my injuries had healed up nicely. Especially with the aid of Ling's attentions.

"This experience very different from first," Ling was explaining to me as she warmed up the equipment.

"You mean I won't be scared out of my wits, and bruise myself black and blue trying to escape from it?"

"Hope not. Can you swim?"

I was surprised by the question.

"Well, I guess I can well enough to keep from drowning, if that's what you mean." I'd saved myself and a friend from being swept out to sea and maybe drowning once. But it'd been a very close thing. One of several personal brushes with death. I didn't tell this to Ling though.

"Oh no, no. There no danger of drowning here--" Ling clarified.

"I should hope not!"

"-- except in thinking you drowning."

"Huh?"

"Don't like influence opinion of experiment. But this time reality is swimming."

"Swimming? How deep is the water?"

"Too deep. No touch bottom."

Whoa! I didn't like the sound of that! But the panic button could bring me out instantly. Uh oh: Ling wasn't going to flood the tub, was she? "Ling, there's not any real water going to be involved in this, is there? I mean, you're not going to pour water into the tub, are you?"

"No, silly man. But you feel like it."

"Well, do I have some scuba gear? Oxygen tanks, and things like that?"

"No, no. This natural swimming. Oh, but I should warn you of some one thing perhaps."

"What's that?"

"You will breathe the water."

"I hope you mean I'll really be breathing air, but I'll feel like I'm breathing water."

"Yes. Is correct."

"And you're sure I won't feel like I'm drowning?"

"Sure."

"Are there any other surprises I should know about?"

"Maybe," Ling smiled in a conniving manner.

"Like what? There's not any sharks or whales in there, are there?"

"None that-- no. No sharks or whales will encounter."

"So what's the surprise?"

"Good surprise-- hopefully. Hope you like it, mean."

"It's not something scary is it?" Hey, Ling's artificial reality was good enough that this was a legitimate question. Plus, I knew Ling would like me asking.

"Don't think so. But can push stop button anytime," Ling assured me-- in a most unsettling fashion.

"Okay," I told her, unsatisfied with her answers, but knowing she wasn't going to enlighten me further.

Ling's contraption slowly closed about me a second time. I nervously fingered the red button, reminding myself to press it at the slightest sign of real trouble. Trouble I couldn't overcome by simply reminding myself none of it was real, I mean.

'Breathe the water'? This might be interesting!

The nets and face mask soon had cocooned me as before. The familiar vibration began, then faded away, as before. I began floating in the deep fog.

A fishy smell and taste flooded my senses. The face mask glowed brighter. All sound became muffled. My ear drums seemed tickled with the caress of fluid. How'd Ling do that? I wondered. With some sort of acoustics?

My breathing became a bit more labored, but not much. The air did seem thicker now, and flavored with a strong sea ambiance. How the heck Ling could make the air itself seem thicker inside me was beyond my understanding: this chick was sharp! Heck: she'd surely win some sort of major scientific prize for all this stuff she was cooking up! I mean, the rides at county fairs and amusement parks of this era couldn't hold a candle to Ling's artificial reality!

A bit of gurgling became evident from my breathing. I became aware of a slight increase in pressure all about me, and the temperature declined ever so slightly.

The foggy distances of an underwater world came into view. They were topped with an ever changing ceiling of shimmering, rolling swells, refracting the rays of a hot sun above into all sorts of directions below.

Far away, I could detect dim shadows of good sized creatures swimming in the murk. This gave me the uneasy feeling I wasn't alone.

Armed with the foreknowledge that I'd be breathing water, the slight drag on inhalations and exhalations didn't bother me too much. But I was sure it would tire me out fairly quickly. For it required a constant, nagging effort, even if it was relatively small. I mean, we land creatures just aren't accustomed to every breath we draw constituting a small chore!

I reassured myself by manipulating the now invisible panic button box in my hand, and began examining my fantasy environment in earnest.

I noticed mischievous Ling had made me naked here, just as I was in the tank. Or maybe she had to? For some reason I wasn't sure now, but it seemed I'd been clothed in the plane ride, before.

Or maybe the nudity was the surprise? If so, it was a disappointment. Or maybe not: maybe I should like the notion of Ling leaving me uncovered in her fantasies? Hmmm...

I began trying to paddle about. I wasn't sure if I was actually managing to make headway or not, when I noticed one of the faraway shadows veering off its previous course and heading towards me.

I didn't like the looks of that, and nervously handled the panic switch in my hand.

But as the apparition neared, I was relieved to recognize the shape: it was Ling herself!

And her make-believe form shared my lack of swimming attire. Fantastic!

"Ling! What are you doing here?" My voice gurgled and bobbled through the water, but for the most part was comprehensible.

"Not real! Remember? Think of talking with mind, not voice!" Ling was animatedly pointing at her head and mine. Her speech too was broken up by the sound of water thrashed by a land-based system of verbalization.

Not real? Talk with mind, not voice?

Ling kept jabbing at her head in the slow motion forced by our liquid environment. "Think! Think what you want say! But no say it! I hear!"

Think what I want to say? *You're beautiful, Ling. I'm crazy about you. I'm so glad you came into the tub with me.*

Ling's warm smile sort of backed up into a more serious looking form on her face.

"I hear you Jerry. Be careful. Not think too much. Now you must hear me. Hear me think at you," Ling vocally warbled at me through the water. We both sort of had to yell to successfully expel words into the medium.

I was getting confused. It seemed Ling had gotten something from my thoughts, but maybe not exactly the message I'd intended. Now she wanted me to 'listen' for hers. How was I to do that?

"I don't know how," I blasted into the water. I was realizing now the strain involved in speaking underwater. It required considerable force to heave water out of your lungs as opposed to air. And your voice box wasn't exactly designed for such a load either. How the heck was Ling making me feel water being whipped about inside my throat? This was amazing!

"No! Don't talk! Think! And listen! I hear you if you think calmly! You hear me too! Just need think you hear me! Remember! Not real! We make rules here!"

Oh yeah: I'd gotten so into the facts of Ling showing up and the weird speaking and other sensations, I was near to forgetting that none of this was real. But Ling was real, wasn't she? Well, first things first: she wanted me to think I could hear her in my head...so here I am, and I can hear Ling in my head....I can hear Ling's thoughts in my head....I can hear Ling....I can hear Ling....I can hear Ling....*Jerry*.....I can hear Ling...what was that?....*me....Jerry....keep*......Ling? Is that you?....*Yes*....*I can really hear you!*....*Yes....but*....*But what, Ling?*....*down....slow....down*....*slow down?*

*Yes....slow...down....time....give me time.....give me time to respond before you think at me again...*

*Okay, Ling* I thought-cast back at her.

This thinking at each other rather than talking was eerie. It took a few minutes of floating in the watery void, staring hard at each other, but we did it. I can't describe it except to say this: clear communication in this medium seemed to require utter truth and real feeling. Deception or disingenuous statements made no sense when received, by either of us.

It was sort of like meeting one another for the very first time-- except with the bonus that we already knew we'd like each other once a clear connection was established.

When I finally got the hang of it, I rebroadcast much stuff at Ling I'd already sent seemingly unsuccessfully several times before.

*This is amazing Ling!*

*You like it?*

*It's the best thing I've ever...seen? Experienced? But if it's not real, I've not-- I mean I haven't experienced it, have I? Whatever it is Ling, I love it. And I love you.*

*You are thinking too much, Jerry.*

*I know. But some things just seem to come out here. You're beautiful. You're wonderful.*

*Yes. Leaking happens. You are new to this, so leaking is normal. Do you understand I don't know how to answer some things you think?*

*Yes. But why? I love you with all my heart.*

Holy shit! My raw feelings were gushing out all over the place here, and I couldn't stop them! Worse yet, they were making Ling uncomfortable! Help!

Somehow Ling's speech here was more sophisticated and polished than usual. Things were getting confusing...

*I am older than you Jerry. I know you will know others, will love others, but you don't know this yourself. You are like a child making his first friend. His first friend, his only friend-- and forever is but a single day. I am your friend, and I love you too, but you are not my only friend, nor I yours, and you do and will love others. You give too freely of yourself. This can be dangerous in many ways.*

*I think I understand. I'll love you forever. But isn't love something with no barriers? No constraints? I want to be with you always.* Agh! Some of the stuff coming from me were things I'd be able to hold back in normal conversation! But not here!

*No. Love is...love is a paradox. You must choose recipients with the same care you'd give to selecting a lifelong nemesis. And yet sometimes you're given no choice at all.

*You must circumscribe your thoughts. Your leakage could harm your mental integrity, and mine as well. Human beings are not meant to live within one another's thoughts this way, to know too much of the other. Beings who are born and die in isolation can in truth endure little of anything else in-between. One mind's turmoil is more than enough to bear.*

*Then why this? Why have you shown me this-- treasure, this miracle-- if it's dangerous and not to be used as I'm doing now?*

*I have so much to tell you, and so little time, Jerry.*

*So little time? What does that mean?*

*Nothing lasts forever Jerry. Each passing day is more precious than you know. Especially for you and I.*

A melancholy fell upon me. Though I was sure I understood Ling perfectly, and she'd told me she loved me, still it was not altogether what I'd expected, what I wanted, what I hoped for. And now she seemed to be hinting at some dark secret; something bad that limited us, that made our days together numbered.

Ling knew where I was, how I was, in that moment, mindset-wise. And she came in and pulled me out. With a reference to a song I'd played for her a few times.

*How does the song go? Perhaps we cannot always get what we want, but we get what we need? Come join with me Jerry. Let us make of this day and place our own mark in eternity.*

Ling and I then left her artificial reality, to make a new one in the real world.

Hours later I awoke in Ling's tub. It was open, all the equipment turned off. The interior was dimly lit by light coming from a single fluorescent desk lamp maybe twelve or fourteen feet away. There was a rough textured blanket covering us. Ling was asleep, nestled close beside me under the blanket. I cherished the soft warmth of her body next to mine.

I wasn't sure about exactly when the borders between fantasy and reality had been breeched to allow my life to become the stuff of dreams. And I didn't care. For today had been the best day of my life, period. The girl I loved was sleeping peacefully in my arms. And anything was possible.

This last memory of 1972 stunned me. For it hadn't happened! Sure, I'd had some stimulating sessions with Ling's artificial reality machine; but Ling and I had never coupled as I was recalling now. A few fabulous make out sessions while naked and otherwise, sure; but no intercourse. It seemed fated that we would have if she'd been around longer; but she got called away, never to return.

The fake recollection sure seemed like a real memory though.

I tried to skip ahead to see where the new memories led, but merely ran into confusion again. The whole mass of new memories was like a long, tangled string in my head. Only by carefully following the length sequentially could I make any progress. Attempting to pick at it anywhere else yielded only nonsense.

In that new fictional life, my relationship with Ling had blossomed into something unimaginably wonderful, the likes of which I had never experienced before. Not even with Bridget, who to this day (circa 1990) held the all time love-of-my-life record, for me personally.

The new memories were at the same time joyous and depressing; joyous because they were happy memories; depressing because I knew they weren't real. They seemed to show happy times I should have experienced, but instead had lost to some unknown thief, who just happened to look and act like me.

So far as romance was concerned, my life was in the pits through most of high school, and since. Sure, I'd enjoyed a brief but marvelous fling with my friend Dana in high school-- but it'd been marred by my terrible crush on Sue Anne. And then cut short way too soon by Dana's parents, too.

Considerably later, I'd met Bridget in Texas. And life suddenly became a million times better for me. But then she'd died, and I nearly died with her. My time with Bridget had been terribly short too.

For the next ten years after that, I'd gone with practically negligible close female contact-- but for my brief time with Ling in school, soon after Bridget's death. That too had proved a frustratingly short-lived thing. And never even been consummated.

And yet here were seemingly remembered scenes of a full blown relationship running through my head, of everything I'd ever hoped to find with a woman, at that time in my life: a fabulous love affair with Ling.

I felt jealous of the false version of myself which got to enjoy those times, contrived as they were. I wanted to switch places with him somehow, to escape the lonely existence I'd endured during the actual following ten years.

Was that the trap?

Whoever had pumped this bilge into my head had had their reasons.

Maybe their goal had been a permanent splintering of me into my component personalities? If so, they'd come close to succeeding. But I was pretty sure I'd managed to pull back out of that dive now. My own personal black hole was fast receding from the stage; I was of a single mind again.

But maybe my new memories were full of traps and pitfalls designed to throw me back into chaos. Should I avoid plumbing the depths of this mysterious well of recollections? I wondered.

I knew in my gut that the false recall was irresistible. So long as I was trapped with it in my head, I'd have to explore it-- no matter the consequences. Surely if I maintained sufficient objectivity I could overcome whatever nasty surprises awaited me. Plus, I wanted desperately to know who had done this to me, and why.

The memory trail led on through more sessions in the artificial reality tub, and more trysts with Ling. There were the normal arguments, hurt feelings, reconciliations, and the never ending college classes. About two months of this had passed, when things took a startling new turn...

The adventures in Ling's artificial reality machine were getting progressively more realistic, versatile, and longer. They were also getting scary-- at least sometimes. My relationship with Ling had intensified to the point of no return. My own schoolwork was suffering badly, as my classes just couldn't compete with Ling for excitement and pleasure. Many times we stayed in her lab practically all night, then cut classes the next day to catch up on our sleep. We couldn't stay in her lab during the day, as Joel, Dr. Koszal, and a small number of students were often scurrying in and out of the main lab outside Ling's.

My time with Ling had already become by far the most satisfying relationship I'd ever experienced. Even including Bridget, I was pained to admit. I could see why Steve liked to have at least one girlfriend around all the time (if not several). Ling was wonderful. I loved her with all my heart, and spent what few free moments I had furiously trying to plan out a married future for the two of us. There were problems with my plans however. For one thing, Ling planned to return to Taiwan, and I planned for us to stay in the states. Plus, Ling took my marriage plans a lot less seriously than I did. She was older than I (though she looked younger-- her asian cast was the reason, I supposed), and kept telling me, with a smile, that I'd sooner or later get tired of an old Chinese woman sharing my bed.

Of course I told her I'd take care of her no matter how wrinkly and shriveled up she got.

I didn't ever want this to end.

The climax of it all came extremely early one Thursday morning (not long after midnight). I know it was a Thursday because I noted at the time it was the same day of the week as our first foray into the lab had been.

Ling was practically shivering in anticipation. She'd whipped up what she considered her 'masterpiece' of artificial experiences, and could hardly wait for me to try it. She'd spent almost a full week putting it together, during which time I'd had to do without her affections. Agh!

As had become our habit in the lab, we'd both immediately disrobed upon entry.

Being separated from Ling for a week made me a bit too wild for her to corral into her tub for work right off the bat. So Ling had to first help me relax a bit, as only she could.

Maybe an hour later I was in the tub for more serious purposes. This time nothing happened. For a long time. I waited as long as I thought appropriate, and then pressed the stop button. The upper tub receded, whereupon a strange light broke into the confines of the tub from outside.

When I say strange, I just mean unusual for the circumstances.

For I didn't really know what the word "strange" meant, until after I'd hoisted myself up onto the wide tub sill.

Everything was wrong. Looked wrong, felt wrong, sounded wrong. More wrong than I'd ever thought possible!

Not only were my surroundings wrong, but so too my very guts, inside. The typical queasiness I experienced upon entering Ling's lab suddenly flared up as I reeled from the abrupt change in-- everything!

Though I hadn't yet moved off the tub sill, the tub itself had now changed into a hospital bed. I was now wearing a loose white shirt of some kind-- a hospital gown? Ling's lab had changed too, but not to any sort of hospital room I'd ever seen before. All Ling's equipment was gone just like the tub itself. The room was brightly lit, and of a warm light green color, with no discernible seams or corners like you'd expect where walls met floor or ceiling, or other walls. All the different surfaces flowed curvaceously from one to the other. There was a strange tinkling music softly playing in the background.

I felt sick and disoriented. Then I turned and saw them. Three strangers staring intently at me from a round cornered window-sized hole in one of the walls.

For some reason I had trouble focusing on their faces for a moment. Though there were no apparent restraints on my limbs, I found myself struggling mightily to move any further. It seemed like the air itself became enormously thicker when I tried to make certain movements.

What the hell was going on? Was I still somehow in the tub? Still experiencing an artificial reality, despite having pushed the stop button and thought I'd climbed out of the device? I soon gave up my physical ambitions and lay down on the bed, where the amazingly forceful air in the room seemed to want me to stay. The feelings of nausea and dizziness were still strong, but ebbing.

I was confused as hell, and wondering if I should be scared.

"Ling?" I called out. My voice seemed faltering and hoarse for some reason. I called for her again, this time much louder and more demanding. I tried a third time. No response. I tried to use any unseen panic button that might be in or attached to my right hand, but got nothing there, either.

There was no glass in the odd round-cornered aperture. I could tell my observers heard my yells, but they showed no sign of responding to them.

I momentarily started to get scared...but then the fear subsided again. In a most puzzling fashion.

I began to find myself amused at my situation. Surprised at how I'd almost panicked so easily, only a moment before.

I no longer felt so concerned over my plight; somehow I knew that soon everything would be just fine. That everything was under control.

In fact, the way I felt at that moment, I wouldn't have wanted to change a thing.

[This particular state of mind and circumstance I can easily recognize. This memory shows all the signs of my having been heavily sedated. I mean, if anything like this had truly happened back then. But it didn't.]

Now that I was calmer, I was free to notice other aspects of my status. I peered once more at the three faces in the window to my left.

I realized two of them were identical, somewhat asian, female, and beautiful. They were also familiar. Where had I seen them before? I couldn't immediately place them, and so moved on.

The third was male, and handsome in the face I guess. But his hair was a little bit weird. Picture a mohawk haircut, except not centered on the head. Rather, picture a wedge of hair tilted about thirty degrees from the vertical. Now imagine that instead of a single mohawk ridge, it's a whole family of tilted mohawks, tapering down in size from the largest at top to the smallest at bottom. And multicolored too, like a rainbow.

The trio were all dressed in long white coats like scientists or doctors-- at least so far as I could tell, as one woman was seated while the other two folks were standing.

I stared at the unlikely group, and they stared back.

The faces of the girls progressed through a sequence of eerily synchronized expressions. When I say synchronized, I don't mean they both shared the same expressions at the same time, because they didn't. Rather, it was like I was watching a conversation going on among them, with each displaying her own reaction.

But not a word was being spoken.

Somehow the lab was gone. And I couldn't think of one reasonable explanation for how. Where was the lab? Where was Ling?

"Where am I?" I croaked towards the rock band wearing doctor coats. Why was I so hoarse?

This time the guy with the multicolored hair replied.

"Hello Jerry. Don't be alarmed. You were found unconscious in the lab. You're now in a hospital. You're all right now, but probably disoriented. Just relax."

In my dazed state I thought it might be so...but only for a moment. I'd passed out before. And waking up again had never been like this.

"Hospital? This is no hospital," I coughed out the words. I wasn't absolutely positive I wasn't in a hospital, but I figured I'd see what result I would get out of Rainbow Man here.

The guy wasn't phased at all. "All right, Jerry. Where do you think you are?"

He surprised me with that one.

By now I'd had the chance to take in a bit more of the whole scene. But there was precious little there to go on. I was laid out in a hospital type bed, in a yellowish green room, the walls of which were positively glowing. It was a soft glow though; I hadn't noticed it immediately. Come to think of it, all the light in the room had to be coming from the walls, ceiling, and floors: there were no other discernible light sources.

The floor was seamless too, like everything else. Except for the bed, which actually looked like a hospital bed. I was about a dozen feet from the waist high window, through which all three strangers were looking at me. There didn't seem to be any doors to the room.

My euphoric state began giving way to other, less desirable sensations.

The two girls really were identical; my first impression had been true. I saw now though that their asian looks weren't quite as pronounced as I'd first thought. They appeared mostly caucasian, with just enough differences here and there to make them appear pleasingly foreign and exotic. They both had mostly long, straight black hair. But they'd done something to it along the sides of their heads, so that it was in tight little curls that ran down to their throats, around them, and up the other sides of their faces. The curly lengths from both sides apparently had been braided together where they met under their chins. I'd never seen hair braided like that before.

I figured they must be college girls.

I seemed to remember something about being in college myself, just then. And the twin college girls were sticking in my mind too, for some reason. But the memory seemed fuzzy. Hard to pin down.

They reminded me of Ling. I hoped she was all right, wherever she was. Wherever I was.

The trio's expressions fell out of synchrony. The girl who was standing had a stoic, studying look on her face.

The sitting one regarded me with just the slightest of smiles playing about the corners of her mouth.

Mohawk was standing at the extreme right. He was a bit bigger than the average man, but not gigantic. His voice was absolutely perfect; too perfect, in fact. Something was a little odd about Mohawk. Something besides his hair I mean.

"Well, Jerry? Do you want to tell me where you think you are?" Mohawk asked, looking me directly in the eyes.

Hadn't he already asked me this? Oh yeah. Maybe I'd never answered him before. My thinking seemed disjointed.

"I think I'm...." I began slowly, hoping for sudden inspiration "...in a dream?" I was stumped. I knew it wasn't a dream-- but I had no better ideas. Besides, I figured it'd still be informative to get Mohawk's reply to this.

But he didn't immediately respond. He turned and looked at the girls. One of them laughed, as if at some private joke. After a very disconcerting moment of them all trading nothing but eye movements amongst themselves for communication, I decided I'd had enough of this nonsense.

I didn't know what had happened here, but I was going to find out-- now.

Obviously my feelings of well being had drained away sufficiently to make me irritable.

Having totally forgotten what had happened only a few minutes before, I climbed out of the bed and started to walk towards them, which immediately got everyone's attention.

Then, once more, I found myself staggering and struggling to keep my balance. I didn't feel weak, or my mind excessively clouded coordination-wise, so the difficulty was inexplicable. It just suddenly became immensely difficult to move. Again. Hmmm. A foggy recall of my previous problem with the same activity tried to clear unknown obstacles in my psyche.

"How do I get out of here?" I asked, as innocently and non-threateningly as I could. But something in me was wanting to rumble.

Then a dimness came over me, and I felt once again the cold, all-encompassing metallic 'grip' that seemed so familiar by now, from past entries into Ling's lab. A full and complete paralysis froze me into place, and oblivion came in and swept me away....

What happened next? Learning the ropes

Above is an aerial view of the college campus Steve and I attended in the 1970s

Copyright © 2004-2011 by J.R. Mooneyham. All rights reserved.