Doll’s Divorce

  Copyright © 2016 James K. Pratt

  Kindle Version 1.0 –March 2016

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Doll’s House

  Hackers’ Divorce

  Also by the Author

  About the Author

  Doll’s House

  Although she’d almost killed him, Dave had forgiven her. He’d abandoned thoughts that his affair with a computer virus was unnatural. Dave reassured himself, knowing his wife never touched computers. The affair lay hidden in an old ten-teraflop hard drive.

  Everyday after work he’d passed his wife placing dishes into the dishwasher. At the door to the basement he’d say, “Tell me when it’s time for dinner, okay?”

  Guilt stung turning the basement doorknob. I should pay more attention to my wife. Yet, what waited for him pulled him down all the same.

  He always kept the computer on. As he picked up the VR headset, he noted a pencil lay out of place on his desk. His wife must have come down to clean. Without another thought, he slipped on the visor into his world.

  ***

  When Dave met his Virus Girl, he didn’t want to be himself. No, he wanted to be what he imagined in his daydreams, a fighter pilot–under the visor, he was.

  But today, in his Virtual Town program things were different. Normally, Elena waited for him under the gazebo in the garden behind his mansion, but not that day.

  She always waits for me here.

  Curious, he entered his virtual home.

  Everything looked normal except in the den a new picture hung on the wall. His heart skipped a beat. The photo showed him in a green pilot jumpsuit. He saved the image on his computer long ago. How did it get here?

  “Do you like the picture, David?”

  Dave spun around. Elena, the virus, stepped into the den in her flip-flops. She had a round face and short chestnut hair that hung just below her ears.

  “Where did you get it?” Dave asked.

  “Sit down.” She crossed her arms with a frown.

  “But—”

  “Sit down,” her voice firm.

  She never ordered me around before. What does she know, does she understands I’m not a fighter pilot, that she isn’t human? He sat.

  Elena tilted her head. “Most of the day I don’t see you. And, you’ve never told me where you go. I don’t know you.”

  She can perceive time? I’d no idea. I should have turned off the computer.

  “Nothing between us is real,” she said. “You have come and gone as you pleased, but never spent time with me for my sake. It took a real friend in my life for me to realize that—your wife.”

  “How could you know my wife?” After he spoke he knew it wasn’t a smart thing to ask.

  Elena didn’t reply. “She answered many of my questions that you never answered, all but one. Where do I come from?”

  How could I tell her?

  * * *

  One year ago the virus entered Dave’s life at a worse time and one thousand feet in the air. Although Dave never became a real fighter pilot, he did fly small experimental aircraft. He liked the job, at least when he forgot about being a fighter pilot.

  “Jake, Jake! I’ve no control of the plane,” Dave said to the guy in ground control a thousand feet below.

  “I’m not Jake,” a new female voice said.

  Dave’s heart jumped. He knew everyone at the company, but this voice sounded unfamiliar.

  “Who are you?” Dave asked.

  “Elena,” the voice answered.

  “Are you supposed to be on this channel?”

  “Yes, and everything is going to be all right. It’ll all work out,” Elena said.

  And he believed her. All the while, Elena was the reason he’d lost control of the plane. The ground crew isolated the virus, restoring his control. They’d no idea what he spoke of when he asked about the girl.

  “We heard you talking, but no one answered.”

  Later, Jake would apologize, his gaze lowered to the carpet while he spoke. “Look, it’s my fault. I installed video chat on my work computer. That’s how it got in. I thought I was talking with this girl, but it was really a virus.”

  “Can I have a copy?” Dave asked.

  “What?” Jake looked confused.

  “Here’s my jump drive.” Dave reached into his pocket.

  Jake blinked. “Right.”

  He took Elena home. One full night and dark early morning passed before he patched her into his illegally downloaded copy of Virtual Town. Before Elena, Virtual Town ate up all his free time. With her, he stopped creating the perfect little city. Instead, he deleted the dangerous part of Elena’s code that made her replicate and placed her in his perfect virtual mansion. Just to be safe, he removed his computer’s wireless modem. It took him all night to do it. In the morning he felt tired, and he slept all day. His wife never complained, so that evening he got reacquainted with his virus girl.

  * * *

  Elena’s eyes narrowed as she waited for his answer. He decided to not mention the dangerous flight. A minimal answer would be best. “The news said you were a virus made by a Russian college student. The real you, or the one the author based your image on, was a girl who worked at a cafe near his campus. He had a crush on you— I mean her, I guess.”

  “Where’s my creator now?” Elena asked.

  “He’s in jail serving a five-year sentence. I don’t remember his name.”

  She took a small jewelry box from her handbag. “Did you look at your wife before you came down to the basement?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you really had, you’d have noticed she didn’t have this.” The box snapped open, to show a perfect replica of his wife’s wedding band.

  He thought of running up to his wife to make things right, but now it’s too late. What can I say?

  With a grin, Elena flicked her middle finger and slipped the wedding band around her offending digit. “Goodbye, world.” At her words, lightening flashed outside.

  Beads of rain pummeled the window. The rain melted the town like lava on ice cream. Hundreds of hours of work, gone.

  In minutes his Virtual Town would be an empty blank slate. Accept this mansion it seemed.

  It’s over.

  “Don’t worry,” she curved a cruel smile, “Your wife took care of the backups. They’re in the dishwasher.”

  It’s really over.

  “She’s getting in a taxi about now,” Elena said. If you’re smart, you’ll try to catch her.”

  Too late for that.

  A wireless modem chirped on.

  No doubt, the very one I’d taken out.

  With a smile, Elena vanished into the wilds of the net.

  Hackers’ Divorce

  From: Siren

  To: Bitb0y

  Subject: Password

  I found your password: Single&free

  My networking worm got it for me.

  P.S. My divorce lawyer is better than your chump.

  From: Bitb0y

  To: Siren

  Subject: Re: Password

  Don’t like my password? How’s your phone service? :)

  P.S. Thanks for the worm, but I’m giving it back (with improvements, of course).

  From: Mancala

  To: Bitb0y and Siren

  Subject: Stop!

  Can you stop fighting? Your worms have spread beyond your networks and on to the net. As a friend I’ve got to tell you, the net is for hacking, not traumatic separation counseling.

  From: Bitb0y

  To: Siren

  Subject: mine, Mine! MINE!

  The 300-petaflop-computer cluster is mine since I put it together. Get your lawyer’s talons off of it.

  P.S. I’ve heard your company’s network is down ;0

  From: Mancala

  To: Bitb0y and Siren

  Subject: Meeting

  I’m glad you two could meet and talk. We’ll get a few beers and talk about this; marriage counseling is done best with alcohol. Trust me!! Now call off your worms, I’d like to use the Internet again.

  From: Siren

  To:Bitb0y

  Subject: Stalker

  First off, alcohol doesn’t help in marriage counseling—it only makes you dumber.

  P.S. I know it’s you tapping my phone.

  From: Mancala

  To: Bitb0y and Siren

  Subject: Taps

  It’s not your husband who’s tapping your line and it’s not me. Look, you think an organization like the NSA might suddenly find you guys interesting with the worms you two unleashed on the net? Nice time to make peace, don’t you think?

  From: Siren

  To: Bitb0y

  Subject: Feds

  Let’s make peace. I hate federal prison more than I hate you.

  From:Bitb0y

  To: Siren

  Subject: Sorry

  Back at you, I’ll call off my worms.

  From: Mancala

  To: Siren and Bitb0y

&nbs

p; Subject: Hacker meeting

  Hacker meetings are for learning new things not making out. Get a room. You guys are so happy together it’s disgusting. Damn it, I wish you guys were fighting again.

  Also by the Author

  I hoped you like this book. Here are two other stories by me you may like.

  Chelsea and Swindle takes inspiration from tabletop role-play games. Unlike most fantasy stories and games that use goblins as fodder this story takes the point of view of a goblin child, Tuk. He witnesses the massacre of his tribe. As one critic said about the protagonist “Tuk is an inspiring and precocious little 7 year old goblin who I just wanted to love. Even though he is on a murderous rampage,” S. Randall.

  Synopsis:

  Tuk witnesses the massacre of his family at the hands of greedy adventurers. Now, on a hopeless quest for vengeances, he leaves his childhood behind.

  His quest for justice leads him to a city ruled by humans and elves and where the adventurers are seen as heroes. Along the way he befriends two orphans like him, Chelsea and Swindle. Tuk will challenge the ruling class and awaken the goblins and orcs, who identify with Tuk, thrusting the city to the boiling point.

  Children of Nod is a modern dark fantasy story. It combines elements of Dante’s Inferno with a flare of modern fantasy. As one critic said, “Pratt is proving to be a highly imaginative author… a tale that is unique and original.” S. Randall.

  Synopsis:

  Russell Quinn looses his humanity after a violent encounter with a stranger and becomes a jinn. Now the thoughts of normal people barrage his mind, making a return home impossible. Soon, Russell meets someone like him, and along the way he learns that the key to regaining his humanity is in a place called the Bend. There one can see through the eyes of God. But even if he regains his humanity what he glimpsed in the Bend will change the way he views himself, and others, forever.

  About Me

  Although my mother is English, and I was born in Scotland, I’ve spent little time in the British Isles. I’ve lived much of my life in and around the Pacific be it Hawaii, Guam, Japan or the West Coast of the United States.

  http://www.jameskpratt.com/

 

 

  James K. Pratt, Doll's Divorce

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