Chas followed Doobie’s TP and found himself on a breezy island filled with flowers and trees, jagged green rocks rising up to pierce the purest of blue skies. They were in a garden with pink petals falling all around them like snow. Parasols shaded circular glass tables. Slow-dance poseballs were scattered around a lush, green lawn. Finger food and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket were laid out on a buffet table.
Doobie: You see, not everywhere in SL is seedy or violent.
Chas: Where are we?
Doobie: Midsomer Isle. This place is known as Puck’s Hideaway. Quite romantic, really.
Chas turned around and saw that Doobie had changed out of her armour and camouflage and was now sporting a black beret, black scarf, and a cream chiffon top, with tight, black, three-quarter length pants.
Chas: So why did you bring me here?
Doobie: Because you made me laugh. And because you owe me 500 lindens. I always believe in looking after my investments. Come on, take a look at the island.
And she soared up into the sky. Chas followed and they hovered together for a few minutes looking at the view spread out below them. It was spectacular. Chas could never have imagined that something like this might exist in a virtual world. Waterfalls and minarets, hidden terraces, domed pavilions, and private houses tucked away in hidden coves, rocky pinnacles rising on all sides. He looked again at Doobie’s name tag.
Chas: So why do you dance?
Doobie: For money, of course. I have to finance my shopping sprees somehow.
Chas: What do you buy?
Doobie: Well, when I’m not buying guns or weapons, it would be clothes, or hair, or new skins.
Chas: You change your appearance, then?
Doobie: From time to time. When you’re a dancer, you have to keep up with the rest. Got to look good or you lose your job.
Chas: But you’re really more of a stripper than a dancer. If what I saw at Sinful Sensations was anything to go by.
Doobie Littlething shrugs.
Doobie: Sure. What’s wrong with that? I’m also an escort.
Chas: Really? What does an escort do?
Doobie: Hahahaha. You’re kidding me, Chas. What does an escort do in RL?
Chas: You’re a prostitute?
Doobie: I prefer “hooker”. It’s a little sluttier, don’t you think? LOL. Yeh, sure. I have sex for money.
Chas gazed at her in amazement. Then remembered his own missing parts.
Chas: How on earth does an AV have sex?
Doobie Littlething laughs till she’s fit to burst.
Doobie: My God, you really are a newbie, aren’t you. Let’s have a look at your profile.
A brief pause.
Doobie: OMG! You only came in today! No wonder you know sweet FA.
Chas called up Doobie’s profile and saw that she had been “born” nearly three years ago. There was a picture of her, and her info panel described her as an escort, model, and exotic dancer. IM me for my rate card, it implored potential clients. Chas clicked the 1st Life tab, but that window was empty.
Chas: You have a rate card?
Doobie: Sure. I’ll give you my rates. Are you interested in having sex with me?
A blue window appeared to let him know that Doobie Littlething was making him an offer. He declined it hastily and felt himself blushing again.
Chas: No, I do not want to have sex with you.
He paused.
Chas: And anyway, I don’t have a penis.
Doobie: LOLOLOLOL! Well, that would make it a little difficult. Let me take you to my favourite spot.
She turned and soared off into the gathering gloom, and as Chas followed, he saw the sun setting on the horizon, sending jewels of claret sparkling across the darkening ocean. A domed, circular terrace surrounded by painted columns was perched on the edge of the cliff, looking directly out across the sunset.
Doobie dropped like a stone, landing right on the edge of the terrace, and Chas followed. For a moment he held his breath. For set in the middle of the terrace, on a Persian rug, was a large, square chess table laid out with a full complement of chessmen, chairs facing each other across the battlefield. The sunset was lined up perfectly with the four rows of squares between the opposing players.
Doobie: You probably don’t play. Not many people seem to these days. But I love the mental challenge of it. And I love a man who can push me to my limits. In all sorts of ways. I sometimes come here on my own and play against myself. LOL. That’s a unique kind of challenge.
Chas: I know. I’ve played against myself many times these last months.
She turned to look at him.
Doobie: Have you: why?
Chas: Because I have no one else to play with.
She seemed to think about that for a moment.
Doobie: Would you like a game?
Chas: I’d love a game.
And so they sat with the sun setting between them and made their first few moves across a virgin board.
Chas: It’s strange, I haven’t been here that long today, and yet it seems to have been light and dark, light and dark.
Doobie: Well, SL like RL, has time zones, and we’ve been teleporting back and forth across them. But a Second Life day is only two hours long. So we cram a lot into a day here. And we don’t waste time walking or driving or taking airplanes. Or eating and sleeping. It makes the whole SL experience that much more concentrated, that much more intense. Things come and go more quickly, including people. And all their human emotions — love, hate, jealousy, envy — are like the light that burns twice as bright but only half as long. If you stay in SL, Chas, you’ll experience much more than you ever expected.
They played, then, in silence, a game so evenly balanced that they were each down to their last few players before she finally chased his king into a corner and forced his surrender. He was glad that Doobie couldn’t see the tears that moistened his eyes behind the screen. She played just like Mora. Not with great flair, but with a relentless, intelligent pursuit that finally ground down her opponent. And he was reminded so strongly of Mora that it almost hurt.
They sat for several minutes without talking.
Doobie: Bad loser?
Chas: LOL. No, Doobie. Just replaying the game to figure out how to beat you next time.
Doobie Littlething smiles.
She stood up suddenly.
Doobie: I promised you could take me out to dinner. I’ll send you a TP.
And she was gone in a sprinkling of fairy dust.
Chas followed Doobie’s TP, and found himself in a circular terrace just like the one they had left. Except that the chess board had been replaced by a dining table for two, with candles and a chocolate and strawberry fondu, and white wine chilling in a bucket. There was no sea view here. They were almost completely enclosed by tall conifers, and the columns supporting the dome were draped with wreaths of pink and white roses. Somehow, in the time it had taken to teleport from one location to another, Doobie had changed her clothes again. Now she wore a flowing, full-length black dress with a daringly low cut neckline revealing full, sensuous breasts. Chas found his eyes being drawn by them, and wondered how he could possibly be turned on by a cartoon. But somehow the personality behind the image was transcending the visual. He thought that Doobie was incredibly attractive.