Total Immersion

total immersion

Gary Preisler

Total Immersion is published under Enigma Books, a sectionalized division under Di Angelo Publications, Inc.

enigma

Enigma Books is an imprint of Di Angelo Publications. Copyright 2022. All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America.

EEDi Angelo Publications 4265 San Felipe #1100 Houston, Texas 77027 www. diangelopublications.com

Library of Congress Registration Paperback Total Immersion ISBN:978-1-955690-08-9

Downloadable via Kindle, iBooks and NOOK.

Words: Gary Preisler Editors: Ashley Crantas, Cody Wootton Cover Illustration: Cover Design: Savina Deianova Internal Layout: Kimberly James

Downloadable via Kindle, iBooks and NOOK.

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1. Fiction --- Mystery and Detective --- Hard-Boiled

2. Fiction --- Science Fiction --- Crime & Mystery

3. Fiction --- Thrillers --- Technological United States of America with int. distribution.

total immersion

Gary Preisler

To my parents, Leland and Karen. Thank you, for everything.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

—Arthur C. Clarke

I’m sure we’ll have sophisticated 3-D holographic films and it’s possible that completely new forms of entertainment will be devised. You might have a machine that taps the brain and ushers you into a vivid dream experience in which you are the protagonist in a romance or actionadventure.

—Stanley Kubrick

There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved.

—George Sand

Virtual reality has come a long way from its beginnings in the Chapel Hill labs of the 1970s. NASA’s flight simulators paved the way for companies like Facebook’s Oculus and hundreds of others around the world, who made great strides in the technology during the first two decades of the twenty-first century. But it was Google’s Larry Page who wanted to harness the next phase in the VR evolution. As early as 2010, Google had heavily funded a team to work in secret out of a nondescript warehouse in Hong Kong to perfect what Page coined “Total Immersion.”

In 2018, sixteen-year-old Pei Chang Lee was responsible for the breakthrough that connected the human brain, via dual laser beams, to a complex AI operating system. Through the eyes, the user was anesthetized and lulled into a state of twilight; half-asleep, half-awake. Lee and Page described it as “Electronic LSD,” a form of hypnosis that transferred trillions of bits of preprogrammed information into the mind of the user.

By the year 2030, Total Immersion systems were too expensive for most consumers, and in-home setups, although growing in size, were still a rich man’s game. Outside of corporate, police, and military use, the real boon in consumer consumption was a string of Total Immersion sex shops. These hightech shops, franchised out by a Google-owned company called A.I.F (Adult Integrated Fantasy), began popping up in several big cities.

Middle-class America was not quite accustomed to the new and exciting worlds of Total Immersion, but as each day passed, more and more people were becoming addicted at an alarming rate.

one

It was love at first sight, he fondly remembered as his tortured mind once again drifted back in time. The way she walked, her smile, those unruly bangs that stopped right above her dazzling green eyes. He had found his soulmate.

[][][]

The call was routine. A robbery had occurred that night at a chic boutique dress shop on Oak Street. It was the smallest store on a boulevard filled with luxury brands, featuring everything from Prada to Dolce & Gabbana. He arrived to take the initial report and waited at the store’s entrance, fiddling with the cuffs of his Chicago police uniform.

It was exactly 9:33 a.m. when the door flew open and his life changed forever.

He had seen lots of pretty women, but there was something about her. Something special. Something extraordinary.

“Oh . . . hi,” she said, seeming surprised.

He just stood there, speechless. Her black hair was thrown into a bun, and she had a beauty mark an inch below her right eye. Out of habit, he pegged her at five-nine, maybe five-ten.

“Hel-lo,” she said, confused by his silence.

“Hi! Yes. Sorry. Hello,” he said, his voice slightly cracking. “I’m Sam

“I’m Jenny.”

She held her hand out and offered a stunning smile that would haunt him forever.

Sam shook her hand. “I’m here to write up the initial crime report.” “Great. Come on in.”

Sam entered the store, which had clearly been ransacked. Glass crunched under his boots from his first step.

“You’re definitely not like the last cop they sent,” Jenny said. “No? How so?”

“He was bald and smelled funny, like cigars and paint thinner. And he was sorta fat for an officer. Trust me, that dude wasn’t chasing down anyone.”

Sam laughed and pulled out a pen and notepad from his back pocket. “I think I know who you’re talking about. Nice guy, but he needs some work . . . So, I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve been robbed?”

“Third time in three months,” Jenny said, staring into Sam’s crystal-blue eyes. “Sam Knight. Cool name by the way,” Jenny continued. “Guess that makes you a knight in shining armor. Oh, God! That was so stupid. I suck at light banter. My flirting skills are subpar—that’s what all my friends tell me.”

“Don’t worry, my friends tell me the same thing. Mine are sub-subpar, I think.”

“Jesus. What a pickle,” she said playfully.

Sam couldn’t suppress the goofy grin on his face. He hastily lifted his notepad and pen, trying to stay professional. “I do need to ask some preliminary questions—”

Jenny blushed. “Yes, of course. I’m babbling. I babble sometimes. Okay. All right. My mom owns this shop. I work here part-time. Getting my master’s in Education.”

“Hey! That’s great. My mom was a teacher.”

“Really? Yeah? Oh, wow. What a wonderful coincidence. Can I ask you a personal question, Sam? How old are you? Just curious. You totally don’t have to answer.”

“Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Just turned. So used to saying twenty-six.”

Knight with the Chicago Police Department.”

“Like when the new year comes around, and you keep writing the old year.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four,” Sam repeated and glanced around the store, noting the shattered display cases and toppled tables. “I can see the shop carries expensive dresses and jewelry. I’ll need a breakdown of what was stolen.”

“The fat, bald, smelly one asked for the same thing. He thought it was an inside job. It wasn’t.”

“There’s been a, uh, well, call it a rash of burglaries in this neighborhood. We think it’s connected to a professional crew tied to a local gang.”

“My mom thinks I’m too picky,” Jenny blurted out. “Shit. I don’t know why I said that. Sometimes I just say what I’m thinking. So embarrassing.”

“No, no, not at all,” Sam said. “I do that all the time.”

Jenny drifted around one of the few still-standing clothing racks. “What are you thinking, right now? Just blurt it out like I did.”

“What am I thinking? I’m thinking I wasn’t even scheduled to work today. Called me in at the last minute. I was sorta pissed about it, to be honest.”

She poked her head around a vibrant, emerald gown. “Are you still pissed?”

“Much less so,” Sam replied, and glanced up at a camera located over the register. “I can see there’s security cameras. Naturally, that’s the first place I’ll need to start.”

“The footage is in the back office.”

“Lead the way, Jenny.”

Jenny turned toward the office, and then spun back to Sam. “I’m glad you got called in at the last minute and were sorta pissed about it.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Sam said, a warm smile lighting up his face.

[][][]

Sam Knight exited the shop forty-five minutes later with his crime report

and a date for Friday night: drinks at the Green Mill Cocktail Lounge. That evening, the banter flowed as smooth as the vodka martinis. When Jenny suggested a late-night hot dog and fries at the Superdawg Drive-In, Sam’s adoration increased tenfold.

That perfect first date turned into a second. They shared their first kiss on the observation deck of 360 Chicago, overlooking Lake Michigan from ninety-four stories high.

When their lips parted, Sam asked, “Did you see fireworks, too?”

“Like the Fourth of July. Don’t stop.” And their lips met again.

Three weeks later, in Sam’s studio apartment, they made love for the first time. It was slow and intense and memorably awkward and beautiful and sweaty and perfect.

Sam felt her stomach and her breasts resting up against his chest as she nuzzled into his neck, both still panting.

“Feels like we’ve been together forever, right?” Jenny said, listening to Sam’s heartbeat through his chest. “It can’t be just three weeks. Can it?”

“No. It’s been years and years. Centuries, maybe, and we just didn’t know it until three weeks ago.”

“Oh, wow. Well said, sir. How romantic is that! Tell me this is all real, and I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s all happening, baby,” Sam said playfully as Jenny straddled him, and they shared a passionate kiss.

“Just one more thing. Seriously.”

“What?”

“Are you even looking for the scumbags who stole those dresses and jewelry?”

Sam broke out laughing as Jenny flashed that perfect smile. [][][]

They dated for less than a year when Sam, already making a name for himself at the Department, bought Jenny a ring and popped the question, for which he received an exuberant, “Yes!”

And exactly eleven months later, he found himself standing in front of a gold-plated mirror in the handsomely designed guest bathroom of Jenny’s parents’ home, wearing a tuxedo. He had seen pictures from his parents’ wedding and remembered how young they looked. He remembered how happy everybody appeared on that bright, sunny day so long ago. He’d searched desperately through the charred remains of his parents’ home for those photos, but like everything else on that terrible morning, he’d found only ashes.

There was a knock on the door, and a deep, scratchy voice called out, “You ready, kid?”

Sam turned back to the mirror, made a final adjustment to his tie, and then nodded to his reflection with a nervous grin. “Yes, Mr. Carlin. I’ll be right out.”

Sam opened the door and was greeted by Jenny’s father: a tall, thin man with a high-sloping forehead who reminded Sam of Ichabod Crane.

“You look like a million bucks, kid,” Mr. Carlin said with a proud smile.

“I only wish my folks could be here. My mom would have loved Jenny.”

Mr. Carlin draped his thin arm around Sam’s broad shoulder and led him down the hallway. “You’re family now. You ever need someone to talk to, about anything, you come to me.”

Sam nodded, and wiped a trace of perspiration off his brow.

“Five daughters, Sam,” Mr. Carlin continued. “Hell, I could use a son.” [][][]

“Do you, Samuel Knight, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, till death do you part?” the white-haired priest asked as a cool breeze blew through the Carlins’ stunning garden.

Sam had all but forgotten how to breathe. He stared at Jenny’s hands, grasped tightly in his sweaty palms. He forced air into his lungs, and whispered, “I do.”

“And do you, Jennifer Natalie Carlin, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, till death do you part?”

“Oh, God, yes, I do. I do. I do,” she said, flashing that extraordinary smile.

“Then by the power vested in me on this day, April 15, 2010, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

A single tear escaped Sam’s eye and rolled down his cheek. Jenny gently wiped it away, and their lips met for the first time as husband and wife.

The large crowd of guests burst out in applause.

“I love you, Jenny,” Sam whispered, staring into Jenny’s stunning green eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

“Things change,” Sam’s father used to say.

Yes, things change, Sam thought as he wrapped his arms around his soulmate and hugged her tight on that glorious, spring day.

Things change.