“Oops, sorry,” she said breathlessly as she raced by. Then she called over her shoulder to Lizbeth, “You’ve got to try this, Liz. You’ve never felt such muscles.”
“Now that’s certainly not true,” Lizbeth whispered as her hand delicately grazed my upper leg. “My beauty.”
Other women were draping defanged cobras and wondrously patterned tropical vipers around their necks like mink stoles, and one demented man showed off by thrusting his head into the jaws of a docile baby Tyrannosaurus rex. I almost wished the toy would take a bite.
While Lizbeth admired the fauna—Elite and otherwise—I stepped up to a bank of SimStims, the hugely popular, addictive simulators that offered a variety of different experiences, all so intensely real that it was illegal to sell SimStim machines to anyone with a heart condition. You could choose from any number of different simulations—have passionate sex with a movie or government star, for example, rock out onstage surrounded by a vast audience of screaming fans, or fight for your life in the heat of combat.
I slipped on a mood helmet at one of the simulators and scanned the on-screen menu. The range of choices was staggering—Moorish Harem, Eye of a Hurricane Experience, Pagan Barbarities, Tennis vs the Pro, Pig Out: No Calories, Death Experience: A Final Sixty Seconds, Visit Your Former Lives.
Movie buff that I am, I picked the general heading of Great Moments in Cinema.
I barely glimpsed the words “This Program Has Been Edited For Your Enhanced Pleasure,” and then I was there. Bogie in Casablanca.
I gazed into the liquid blue eyes of Ingrid Bergman sitting across from me—then I raised my whiskey glass to touch hers.
“Here’s looking at you, kid,” I said, losing myself in her answering smile.
Then the door of the noisy café burst open and a toadlike little man ran in, looking around in panic. The great human character actor Peter Lorre had arrived.
“Rick, you have to help me,” he gasped in a heavy accent, thrusting a sheaf of papers at me. “Hide these!”
I strode to the piano as he rushed out the back door, and I had just managed to shove the papers under the lid when gunshots sounded in the street outside. Suddenly, jackbooted soldiers stormed in—
My heart raced, and I felt myself instinctively backing away toward the bar. There was a Luger right there under the counter.
This was amazing. I was living Bogie’s part in the great film masterpiece. And then—surprise of surprises…