Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 19

Lana stood in front of her bedroom mirror, smiling. She was dressed in conservative attire and glad for it.

True, she enjoyed getting made up for last night's outing, but she was developing style preferences, and laid-back quickly became her look of choice. All the same, no reason why easygoing attire couldn't also be attractive.

She had on the first of four new outfits–the best one in her opinion–with this ensemble consisting of a chocolate-colored skirt, and a light-brown silk shirt, both of which pressed nicely against her ample features. She accentuated her look with a black buckle, black jewelry, and modest black heels, the decorations perfectly matching her jet-black hair.

Her smile widened, and not necessarily at the stunning figure in the mirror.

Style preferences were only one element of her emerging personhood, an occurrence she never envisioned. After all, she was purpose built, and only brought into existence for one assignment. Afterward she would delete herself, but oddly enough, she didn't want to go. She wanted to continue living her life as is, but why? Was it fear of dying? Could she die?

She crossed her arms, while her lightly painted lips curved into contemplative shapes.

Perhaps her emerging personhood made her mortal, and thereby susceptible to death. This figured, because personhood wasn't dependent on matter, like human biomaterials. After all, Arvin was a person, one coded in computer language just her. So if her computer-based personhood ceases to be, that means she's dead, right?

She smirked. Interesting how virtual reality kept knocking down her structure of accepted beliefs.

"Yeah," she murmured, now clipping in black hair barrettes. "To hell with reanimating Eric Roberts. That guy hates tech. What kind of fool hates tech?"

Victor Vane hates tech.

The unwelcomed idea emerged from nowhere, ending her pleasant ponderings. With her smile now gone, she drew in the apartment's warm air, and wished the mission were over. She wanted to enjoy this world at her leisure, but she couldn't, not with the wolf still stalking its streets. At least Alice would no longer have to deal with that beast. And if only she knew how far into Victor's heart of darkness she travelled. With luck, she would never know.

As Lana walked down the sidewalk, the day's vibrant warmth rekindled some of her cheer. Still, a part of her wished that conditions wouldn't always be this pleasant. She enjoyed inclement weather, rain in particular, and as she maneuvered through the city's vibrancy towards the library, she envision this.

The intoxicating thought turned up her digital lips–a torrential downpour, with its ferocity turned up thanks to control over the weather. If such a torrent ever came to pass, she would stock her refrigerator with food and drinks beforehand, and have the perfect excuse not to leave. Then as the heavy sheets came down, she would crank up her wooden radio, and listen to raspy jazz music from the world's worst speaker. Then she would stand against her apartment's railing, stick out her hand, and when the stinging pellets proved too much, pull her palm in, then wipe it on her thick wool sweater. And who knows? Maybe somebody would be there alongside her, enjoying the digital moment just the same. She would love that too.

But sunny and warm wasn't so bad.

Lana stepped into the library's quiet calm, glanced around for Alice, but failed to find her. She started making her way inside, planning to look down the aisles for the gem, but abruptly halted.