Realware

Eleani looked hard at Yoke, then gazed blankly at the wall for a moment, off in the cyberspace of uvvy. "Yes," she said presently. "It's all here. Sue Miller died in a fire and shipwreck off Tongatapu last year and our navy recovered her body. She had a sailor moldie named Squanto who was also lost in the fire. We'll morph you into Sue and Cobb into Squanto, Yoke. I'm releasing the ID viruses now. They'll live till next month, and they're smart enough to actively search and replace any images of you two. That way if any person or moldie happens to video you, Yoke, the transmitted image is going to show Sue. This means that for the next month nobody's going to be able to take a picture of you. It'll look like this." Eleani uvvied Yoke an image of a ski

"But isn't Sue Miller on record as being dead?" asked Yoke.

"No, no," said Onar. "In this day and age, an identity is a precious thing. When the Tongans find a body, they always incinerate it and base an ID virus on that person."

"This is creepy," protested Yoke. "You're not pla

"Of course not," said Eleani. "Silly girl. This is for your protection, I'm sure! All right then, Yoke, I'm going to uvvy you the Sue Miller and Squanto identity codes now, in case someone directly asks you for ID. Very good. You have a registered Tongan visa in the name of Sue Miller for thirty days. Now let's see about Mr. Olou."

"If I have this fake ID," said Yoke, "does this mean I have to call myself Sue while I'm here? And have to call Cobb -- Squanto?"

"Too much trouble," said Eleani. "On the islands nobody pays so much attention to details. My understanding is that we only need the fake ID for the rest of the world. In case someone takes your picture after you get hold of whatever it is you're supposed to get. With the ID virus nobody need ever know it was you. You'll be able to return home and live peacefully."

At the end of a marble hall they found a darkened office with a leathery Tongan man sitting in an armchair wearing an uvvy. All the blinds were drawn. The Tongan's eyes were closed, but he opened them when the three entered.

"Onar?" he said. "Very good, very timely. Put on your uvvy, if you would, and join me."

"Would this be of interest for my friend Yoke as well?" said Onar.

"She is most welcome," said Mr. Olou. "Malo e lelei, Yoke. Please take a seat, both of you."

They settled into a matching pair of chrome and leather Barcelona chairs. Eleani glanced at her watch and excused herself.

Yoke put on her uvvy and followed along as Onar joined Olou in cyberspace. The three of them seemed to be standing in a cartoon jungle, with bright colored vines stretching from the ground upward to--well, upward to nothing. No trees in sight, just lots of colored vines rising up forever above the simmie body icons of Yoke, Onar, and Olou. Glancing down at herself, Yoke saw that she was wearing her usual simmie, the Alice from Alice in Wonderland. The ground beneath her feet was soft black dirt with little beetles and sow bugs in it.

"The vines display the Cappy Jane sky-ray signal flow," said Olou. He looked like a grass-skirted, spear-waving Tongan warrior. "I've been improving the visualization, Onar. As you know, one hundred percent of our Cappy Jane signal flux is licensed to Meta West Link. The color spectrum codes from red through blue represent the various fee levels." The vines were glowing like rainbow neon tubes.

"Can you show me one of the bandwidth pirates?" asked Onar, whose body icon was that of a natty man in tails and top hat.

"Wait," said Olou, crouching with his spear at the ready. All at once he flung the spear at a purplish-white vine in the middle distance. "That's one of them," he said. "Bull's-eye. Now I've captured that signal into nonvolatile storage."

"I may be able to display it as a richer image," said Onar. "I have some rather wonderful virtual tools. They're in-house products of Meta West." He began pushing his way through the thickets of colored tendrils, closely followed by Olou. Yoke tagged along, wondering at the tingly feel of the vines. Working quickly, Onar and Olou hauled down dozens of meters of the purplish-white pirate vine from where it disappeared up above. This preliminary task accomplished, Onar caught Yoke's eye and smiled confidently. He drew himself up and bowed as if begi

"Shroop!" sang the box. "Shroop, shroop, shroop!" The high, metallic sound reminded Yoke of an artisan's band saw cutting up slabs of moon-rock. Onar hopped behind the box and started to open the lid, which faced roughly toward Olou.

"Careful there," said Olou, seeing something. He backed off so rapidly that he got tangled in the vines. For just that critical moment he was pinioned in front of the box. "Onar, don't!" he screamed.

It was too late. The lid slammed all the way open, and out rushed something quick and bright and overwhelming, something that leapt at Olou and crumpled him. This happened in an instant and then the thing was heading for Yoke, spreading itself out to an immense size. Yoke was already moving her arm to pull her uvvy off her neck, but the fast shiny thing got to her too quickly. It looked like a jellyfish, but with a smiling humanoid face that was somehow etched into its transparent flesh. It engulfed Yoke, and her overloaded uvvy sent out a stu

That jellyfish thing; the face on it had looked like--Onar? And it had said something just as it swallowed her, something important--but somehow impossible to bring to mind. She couldn't stop obsessively trying to remember it. As she circled around the memory, she found herself thinking about the day three months ago when some alien personality waves had taken over the bodies of a bunch of moldies at Willy Taze's house. One of the aliens had been a being called Shimmer, who came from a place where beings led zillions of simultaneous lives all at once in parallel time. Did the jellyfish have something to do with Shimmer? Yoke tried again to remember what the voice had said --but she couldn't bring it to mind. She grimaced, trying to shake off the memory.

"Hey Onar!" she called. "Mr. Olou? Wake up, veks! Please don't be dead . .." Onar stirred and sat up. Like Yoke, his first act was to take off his uvvy. But somehow he didn't look as if his head hurt. "God help me," he muttered, then looked up at Yoke against the moonlit window. "Are you all right?"