Charlie's

12

He was sitting at the end of the bar when Sarah and Joe came in. She'd had creeps in bars sizing her up before, but he was different. There wasn't quite as much hunger in his eyes as in others', and there was some flattering appreciation too.

He stayed put while Joe talked with Eddie. His gaze would shift once in a while, to the bottles behind the bar, perhaps to something in the mirror...but it always shifted back to her. There was the faint hint of a smile on his lips when their eyes met.

When Joe and Eddie left together, he took some time to finish his drink, then order another for himself and one for Sarah before getting up and moving down to a stool next to her. He looked around 30; some day, she thought, he might be a creepy 40-something, or a pathetic 50-something, but right then he was wearing 30 quite well.

The bartender knew him, called him Tony, so it was clear that he was a regular in the place. Sarah caught a glance from the bartender, as if he was looking at an often-repeated scene. She smiled indulgently as she accepted her fresh drink, then turned her attention back to Tony. She was prepared for a cheap come-on.

She wasn't prepared for charming. Or funny. She wasn't sure if Tony thought of himself as God's gift to women, or if perhaps he actually was, but he was self-assured and articulate and flattering and everything a woman might think she wants when she's in a bar with two drinks in her.

The conversation went on. She wasn't sure what she told him, how much she was making up from thin air, but however much it was he was fine with listening to it. They got restless and left the bar, walking down the avenue, still talking.

She wasn't even really aware of reaching her hotel, until she was in the elevator with him. It dawned on her briefly before he drew her in for a kiss.

She never quite remembered staggering down the hallway while still in his arms, kissing his lips, his cheeks, his neck. She didn't have a clear memory of the fumble for the key, for the door, for the bra strap. Their clothes fell away and seemed to vanish as hands rested on skin. She stepped backwards, still kissing him, and suddenly the bed was behind her knees. She fell back onto the mattress with him not quite on top of her.

He leaned over her, his eyes boring into hers, lips in a hungry smile. "Sarah..."

"...Yes...?"

"You know this is a simulation, right?"

Sarah simply stared up at him. His face still had the same look, as if he'd just said something to make her melt. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she hissed, "Get out!"

The look of lust dissolved into confusion. "What...?"

"GET OUT!" she shrieked, pounding at his chest with her palms as she tried to get out from under him. "Get OUT! Outa my room! Outa my sight!" He stared at her, dumbfounded, as she got off the bed and went to the window, staring out at the street, shaking with both sudden chill and rage, her arms wrapped around her chest. After a while he quietly picked up his clothes and slipped out the door.

She stayed at the window for a few minutes, her breathing gradually slowing, the trembling in her shoulders easing. She took a deep breath, let it out, and looked around. Was there some sort of control panel for this world? There didn't seem to be anything but hotel room.

Her eyes rested on the phone. She sat on the bed next to it and got the phonebook out of the drawer. Leafing through it, peering at the headings, she muttered to herself, "Tech support...tech support..."

The door opened and a maid came in.

Sarah glanced up. "Not now," she said testily.

"Excuse me, ma'am...You requested tech support?"

She blinked at the maid, then set the phonebook aside. "Yeah. I got questions. I thought everyone here thought this was the real world?"

The maid nodded. "Yes, ma'am. All sims respond to this localized context. Outside information is interpreted within that context to the fullest extent possible."

"Then why did that guy who was just here ask me if I knew this was a sim?"

"That was an instance of the reality anchoring safeguard. It helps the user maintain perspective, so that one's connection to the real world is maintained."

"But why did he have to do it then? We were in the middle of..." Sarah stopped herself with a wrench, and looked down at the floor. "...We were busy, and then he just pops out with that. I hate that!"

The maid was politely contrite. "We apologize for the inconvenience, ma'am. By default the anchoring triggers randomly. Would you like to adjust the triggering interval or criteria?"

"I would like for it to not happen at all!"

"Imperial regulations, public health directives and the policies of the Far Horizon corporation recommend against disabling the anchoring. However, it can in fact be disabled if that is the user's explicit desire. Do you so authorize?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Please confirm."

"I said yes!"

The maid nodded. "Very well, ma'am. Adjustment saved. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Sarah was silent for a moment. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. "Yeah. Change the sheets." She got up and headed for the shower.

"Yes, ma'am."