Earth, 35th Century. You can cheat death by downloading your consciousness into a Virtual Universe, with thousands of imaginary worlds to choose from, and countless 'lives' to be 'lived.' But someone of vital importance to the Virtuaverse has been m...
Teepee's arm morphed in 2 seconds and began shooting lethal blasts at the soldiers, who were dashing for cover. He shot one guy in the leg, but it went through him and blasted the lunar surface instead.
"Stop, Teeps! I'M OKAY! It's just part of Disney's old 'Star Wars' show!"
The rest of us watched as Les stood up, pressed a button on his suit's belt pack, and the holographic image of a disgusting open hole in his middle disappeared. One by one, the battalion disappeared as well. A short woman whose suit bore a logo of Mickey holding a lightsaber appeared in the doorway of a worker's dorm, walked up to Les and clocked him. He sailed several score yards backwards.
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"Which of you is Crow Feather?" she asks. I raise my hand.
"Tessa Scarano. Welcome to Mickey's Mare Imbrium. I told Les three times that it's company policy to warn any visitors about the Holo Show, and he promised me he wouldn't forget. In anticipation of a bad first impression, I had some real hot cocoa sent over from Alpha Farm 12. Just ask for it, and SiriLexa will make some for you. All Moon grown. And the milk and cream come from Lunar herds."
She stopped in front of an enclosed bubble that held a 3-story house, with a currently empty swimming pool. "The entrance password is 'Margaritaville.' Hello, Les. I know, I know – you told me they'd just love the Holo Show with no stupid warning, because 'warnings are for wusses', right? Yeah, that went really well! You haven't changed a bit. The equipment you ordered is in the pool room."
"Seriously – a pool room?" I asked, because a good old pool table would remind me of Jake's Joint.
"No, sorry. It's empty except for your stuff. If you need me, just tell SiriLexa. Good night, sleep tight, and have a magical stay!"
"All right, pick a room, get out of your suit, and come back to the dining room." Sunny was first, looking happier than I've ever seen her. "SiriLexa, can we have thar hot cocoa Ms. Scarano was talking about?"
"Of course, Ms. Anjou. American, Belgian or Mexican?"
"Mexican," I reply quickly, not certain why – I'd never had it before. I'd never had any of them before.
"Mexican is fine. Enough for everybody. And call me Sunny!"
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