Simuloss

'What would you be prepared to do to lose weight? Are you desperate enough to try something totally 'unnatural'? Are you aged between 20 and 50 and at least three stones over your ideal weight? Call Simuloss now!'

The advertisement glared accusingly from the back page of a discarded free paper on the bus. It dared Lisa to ignore it again, as she had countless times before. Lisa was happy to accept the dare. She wasn't that desperate.

When she arrived at work Lisa followed her usual routine; she logged onto her standard computer and started the email application. While it loaded she poured herself a coffee and jacked her cerebral implant into Neuronet.

Only 'techies' had implants. They cost a small fortune, but increased productivity 60%. Her implant had proved worth the investment. It had already paid for itself twice over in bonuses and commission. In her opinion it was the best invention since Neuronet itself. Finally, programmers could directly interface with their computer, so her applications did what she thought. It took a lot of intelligence and concentration to both master and use, but she wasn't a genius for nothing.

In the time it took her to type the covering email, she had already ‘thought’ two data analysis reports. Microsoft® hadn’t bought into Neuronet yet, so she still had to use standard Office tools to send her reports to the end users. Manual actions were so slow.

An email flagged as urgent pinged into her inbox. “Report to the HR office immediately please.” it shouted in blocked capital, bright red, super bold, font.

“Users!” She sighed as she logged off.

At the door of the HR office, one of the grey suited, senior officers greeted her personally. Alarm bells began to sound in her head. She’d not bothered to learn his name. HR officers didn't stay long and they didn't mix with 'techie' types.

“Hello Ms Connolly. Thank you for coming so promptly.”

He indicated the lone, red, fake leather seat before the fake wood table with a wave of his hand.

“Come in. Take a seat.”

He continued and oozed behind the desk to slide into his own chair. The grey suit smiled like a politician - all teeth, impersonal, cold and false. Even worse, another grey suit already waited behind the desk. This one was female. Lisa shook the proffered hands and took the offered chair.

They didn't bother to introduce themselves; they just got down to business like a well rehearsed wrestling tag team.

“It has become company policy not to employ staff who are more than 30% over their ideal body weight.” Female Suit.

“Anybody who is approaching the limit and up to 40% heavier than ideal will be put on notice of termination and assessed in three months time.” Male Suit.

“Ms Connolly you are a ‘very’ long way outside of this tolerance.” Female Suit.

It was true. Lisa thought her ideal weight should be eight and a half stones and she weighed in at an elephantine twenty stones. She took the second to perform the mental mathematics; that was more than 135% over her ideal body weight. She'd never done that particular sum before and it was shocking.

“I'm afraid that we have no choice but to dismiss you.” Male Suit.

“What? But…” she spluttered, “I have an exemplary work record and zero sickness in five years.”

“We are aware of your work record Ms Connolly.” Female Suit.

“Neither your attendance or any other aspect of your employment is an issue.” Male Suit.

“However, we are a health provider and you are a poor example for the public.” Female Suit.

“Termination of your contract will take immediate effect.” Male Suit.

“The organisation will pay you a month's salary in lieu of notice and a further month's salary for your inconvenience.” Female Suit.

“You are entitled to appeal.” Male Suit

There was no point. The organisation had never lost a dismissal hearing. She decided to keep her professionalism and dignity even if she couldn’t keep her position.

“I need a day to handover my projects.”

“That won't be necessary.” Male Suit.

“In that case my I'll collect my things.”

“They’re being collected for you as we speak.” Female Suit.

Smoking, alcoholism and drug abuse have long since surrendered their hold on society; classed as mental health issues. The organisation spares no expense to rehabilitate those afflicted (forcibly if necessary).
Polite society segregates addicts into beautifully maintained and equipped retreats. They are treated and then reintegrated. Upon release, ex-addicts receive a disabled status and careful monitoring. Discrimination on the grounds of disability was illegal.

Obesity was the last great social issue and permissible prejudice. People like Lisa had chosen to become obese. She concurred with this judgement. However, in Lisa's opinion ex-addicts had made a choice at some point too and they had chosen to use something that was completely unnecessary.

She however, needed food to live. Abstinence was not possible. Besides, she objected to the label of social pariah.

She couldn’t believe it, dismissed in disgrace. It was a degrading and humiliating experience. Rising from the chair, she felt giddy with shock and staggered. Overcome with the absurd Lisa giggled, imagining the headlines –

‘Disgraced employee crushes HR officers in retaliation for obesity dismissal.’ She quashed the hysterics. They didn't suit her self image. Pain and self-pity took their place but at least she would appear calm.

Forcing back tears, she turned towards the door. Lisa had turned the knob when Male Suit spoke again.

“There is one possible alternative to dismissal.”

“Have you heard of 'Simuloss'?” asked Female Suit.

Lisa throttled the urge to tell them to go to hell and forced a polite expression on her countenance. She turned again to face them. Moderating her voice was more difficult but, under the circumstances, she was proud of the result.

At least she didn't growl at them.

“I've seen adverts.”

“We’re co-sponsors of the programme.” Female Suit.

“It would be a pity to lose such a valuable resource.” Male Suit.

Lisa noticed that she didn't rate as a person. She had always preferred Personnel to Human Resources. The first had hinted at care, not just procurement and allocation, although the latter was more honest.

“If you agree to participate in the programme as part of a case study...” Female Suit

“We would be prepared to hold your position open for a period of twelve months.” Male Suit.

“Subject to you reaching a satisfactory body weight of course.” Female Suit.

‘Satisfactory to whom?’ Lisa wondered.

“I wouldn't be able to afford the programme without a salary.” She countered.

“We would sponsor your participation and offer a salary for the period.” Male Suit.

“What's in this for you? You said 'case study' but what exactly do you want, and why me?”

Female Suit opened a drawer and handed the ready waiting package across the desk. “This should answer your questions.”

“Kindly call HR with your decision before Wednesday.” Male Suit.

A black bin liner containing her belongings waited outside the office door, symbolic of her fate if she refused the organisation's 'kind' offer.

She picked it up and headed homewards.

She opened the front door of her tiny flat and stepped inside. Her mood lifted a little the instant she closed the door to her sanctuary. There were no people to judge her here.

Furnished in a minimalist style, it was perfect for her needs. When jacked into Neuronet, which was how she spent most of her spare time, she left her body and all physical clutter behind. Her intellect and personality were all that mattered. She could project any physical image she wished, normally choosing a rainbow coloured cloud.

Lisa settled on the sofa and opened the Simuloss package. Inside was a glossy brochure, she left that for later. Lisa was more interested in what the company wanted from her: There was a contract and a proposal but after three readings, Lisa still couldn't see the catch. They were offering a year's secondment to the plan on full pay with all expenses and fees paid.

In return, they wanted a written account of her experience. They would arrange for before and after pictures to show the difference and degree of success.

In addition, there would be ‘several’ publicity interviews. These would form the basis of an advertising campaign which, Lisa was expected to endorse, but not actively promote.

There was nothing to explain the expense of the salary and sponsorship. Simuloss must be horrendous to warrant the expenditure.
She read the brochure. The first page was testimonials “It was so easy.”, “Simuloss changed my life!” etc.

Next came the glossy pictures of beautifully manicured grounds and a mansion with the promise of individual attention. All very nice but Lisa wanted to know what the programme actually consisted of. What was so 'unnatural' about it as the advertisements stated.

Finally, she got to the meat of it.

'Simuloss is a state of the art, total immersion simulator. For an agreed duration, determined by either setting a goal weight or designating a period of immersion, your consciousness becomes part of the role playing fantasy of your choice.

We care for your unoccupied body and reconnect you at the end of your treatment. Success is guaranteed.’

There were pictures of people strapped into objects which, resembled astronaut's Multi Axis Trainers, MATs she remembered they were called.

'Tailored to suit your individual tastes, your mind will be totally occupied allowing your body to be exercised without you even knowing about it. All under the care of our expert staff.

We are partners with one of the world's biggest names in healthcare, so you can rest assured you are in the very best hands. You have nothing to lose but your excess weight.'

She had to admit there was nothing to put her off in the brochure. She enjoyed computer role playing games and she'd played more than her fair share of virtual reality games too. In fact, the concept was quite novel and appealing. She’d get her fit body back at the end and without having had to work for it.

‘The Simuloss system uses the latest Neuronet jacking technology. Our role playing environments are so realistic even scents can be faithfully reproduced.’ The brochure continued.

Finally. The reason for her 'chance' was her implant. Fitting them was expensive, but that was only half of the issue. After the insertion comes the training period of anything between one and five years where the wearer has to learn how to direct their thoughts through the jack and interpret input. It took intense concentration and was extremely tiring.

Lisa went online. The Net, the manifestation of Neuronet’s net mind, was a handsome, muscular male, so she thought of it/him/whatever as a man. Even though he was, of course, only a construct that made interaction easier.

“Welcome back Lisa. Your unusual absence from Neuronet was observed.”

Net’s ‘voice’ in her mind was warm and deep. He sounded concerned. She often forgot he was an interface and not a sentient being.

“Did you miss me?” She asked.

His image flickered in her reality. Net didn’t respond of course.

“I’m looking for information on ‘Simuloss’.”

The info-dump was impressive, as was the system security denying her access. The Simuloss Program also had impressive outcomes and no side effects she could discern.

“Random user survey. Why do you want to know about Simuloss?” Net asked.

For an instant Lisa wondered how to answer.

“My employers are going to sack me unless I undertake the program. I want to know the drawbacks before making a decision.”

“How would the loss of employment affect your Neuronet usage.”

“I’m unable to afford personal access without employment. My usage would depend upon finding a new post.” She thought for a moment. “Of course, I’ll be permanently connected for the next 12 months if I do take the program.”

“I hope you take the program.” The Net replied.

‘That’s an odd thing for a construct to say.’ Lisa thought as she unjacked. Most people couldn’t jack or unjack themselves. It meant splitting her consciousness into two, maintaining awareness of her physical body so she could move and accessing higher thought processes to operate Neuronet. She was the only person she knew who could type and jack, or talk and jack simultaneously.

Lisa had more to lose than weight if she didn't try. She cared about her job and enjoyed the work. Not to mention the pay was good. Even more important she didn't want to be sacked. She called the grey suits and accepted their offer.

By lunchtime the next day, Lisa had been subjected to ‘before’ interviews and photographs, and checked into the facility. Everything was happening so fast and slotting together so neatly it felt unreal.

“We will, of course, continuously monitor your thought patterns for signs of stress,” assured the open-faced woman with the consent forms. “and we contact your consciousness weekly to check you’re happy with the game and to inform you of your body’s progress.”

“Can I change game if I’m bored?”

“Of course. We have a choice of a thousand simulations.” She smiled. “You could swap every week if you wanted.”

“Can I get out if I don’t like it?”

“We don’t have an auto-exit protocol. We do have an extraction protocol for family emergencies etc. We can get to you anytime.”

“So what happens if I unjack? Or if there’s a system glitch”

“You can’t unjack yourself, nobody can put their own jack in and out.” She stared at Lisa as if she’d grown an extra head. “We have a hot standby system, 8 hour UPS protection and a generator. The system is totally safe.”

Four new ‘guests’ joined the program alongside Lisa. For their first game, they would all play as a team in a fighting fantasy. She would play a sorceress. Pretty standard fare for gamers.

The woman led her to the 'immersion chamber'. A circular, all white room with a single treatment couch. It was completely clinical and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Apart from the couch and the door, uplighters providing diffused white light were the only features to the room. There weren’t even windows.

As instructed, she lay down and her ‘host’ jacked her in.

In an instant she was in a comfortable waiting room with her fellow adventurers. She wore her default rainbow cloud and floated above an armchair. It was the first time she’d jacked in without being greeted by the Net mind. She missed his presence.

Lisa looked around at her fellow adventurers. They already wore simulacrums. Two elven rangers, one male and one female talked in a corner. A small girl lounged in the chair beside her, Lisa realised she was a Halfling. She chatted animatedly to an old crone, the team’s priestess healer.

Her unoccupied simulacrum stood in the centre of the room. It was a dark haired, fair skinned, young woman, clothed in a long dark robe. She adjusted the proportions, it was too skinny, and melded her awareness into it.

As the last in the party so she didn’t have long to socialise Now her characterisation was complete the adventure would start. They were short on muscle. What they really needed was fighter to make a good group.

She needn’t have worried. As the waiting room transformed into a fantasy landscape, a barbarian warrior NPC complete with furs and an enormous sword greeted them. Lisa couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled the Nets manifestation.

“I’m pleased to meet you sorceress.” Rumbled the barbarian. They shook hands in greeting but the warrior didn’t release his grip. Together, they walked from the shadow of a castle into the purple, rising sunlight.

Each week, and at the end of each quest, a ‘host’ paused the simulation and swapped ‘guests’ in and out of games as they desired. Lisa changed game each time. Whatever adventure she ended up in though, the barbarian always seemed to be there. He was the most real NPC she had ever encountered. His program allowed him to remember between simulations, sometimes he seemed more real than the PCs she bumped into.

When she wasn’t too busy trying to solve a puzzle, fight a battle or otherwise survive and complete a simulation – which admittedly wasn’t very often. Lisa found herself thinking about ‘her’ barbarian.

He definitely seemed to fulfil that position, usually appointed as her bodyguard. She knew he wasn’t real yet she felt drawn to him. She reminded herself firmly that he was a game character at every opportunity.

She even tried avoiding him but she could really do anything about him. She was here for the duration and wherever she went, he turned up.

She placed the retrieved goblet into the alcove above the altar. An almost blinding flash of light filled the cavern accompanied by, a now familiar, disembodied voice.

“Quest complete.”

The cave returned to semi-darkness, the enemy NPCs disappeared and the flames went out. The barbarian never vanished he just stopped interacting. This time he sat down and cleaned his bloody sword.

It was a very abrupt ending, normally they had to finish the battle, return to the quest setter with proof of completion to get paid and earn XP.

Then a Simuloss host arrived for a debriefing.

“Is everything all right?” asked the host.

“Apart from you interrupting the quest? Sure.”

Lisa had returned to her body a few times without her hosts knowledge. She read the control panels and satisfied of its health returned to the simulator. Her body had almost reached the specified desired weight. Lisa expected them to reunite her any time now. She really wasn’t eager to return to her normal life.

She glanced over at the barbarian. Real life wasn’t this much fun.

“Congratulations on completing yet another adventure.”

“Thanks, but the odds are stacked in my favour.”

“You’d be surprised how many quests fail.”

“Hmm – so how am I?”

“I’ve come to fetch you back.”

“Really!”

The barbarian surged to his feet. “No!”

As fast as thought, everything was gone, the Simuloss host and the environment. It was pitch black and cold. She had a splitting headache; sleep deprivation and dehydration combined she suspected. The type of thing she'd expect after an all night reading or gaming session.

‘What happened?’ she thought

She’d imagined being reconnected to her body would be a more pleasant experience. She’d expected a host to be present at least, if only to remove the jack. Was it too much to expect lighting and heating?

‘I could be in the immersion chamber.’ She supposed.

It had no windows for natural light. She couldn't tell where the door was. She wondered whether she should shout for help, she didn’t really want to lie here in the dark until somebody remembered her.

She waved an arm, just in case the lighting was motion activated. She couldn’t feel her arm.
Then she heard voices. For a moment she was relieved, but Lisa realised she knew those voices.

“Oh God. She's conscious between states. Initiate emergency retrieval” Female.

“Hush, she'll hear you.” Male

“Damn!...Hello Lisa.” Female

"Welcome back to the real world. You've successfully completed your Simuloss Weight Therapy Plan.” Male.

“Lay still for a minute while we disconnect you.” Female.

What kind of joke was this? The voices belonged to the grey suits in HR.

Lisa wasn't very good at following orders, and she had no desire to lie there any longer. She tried to sit up and found that she couldn't move. Lisa appreciated she was fat and ungainly, but she could still sit up unaided.

No , she’d lost weigth she wasn’t fat now. She tried to move her head without any success.
She tried to speak. No words emerged.

“I said lay still. You'll hurt yourself if you don't.” Female.

The suit wasn't wrong. She was still jacked in. Random cascades of light and interference streamed through her input adding to the headache tenfold.

‘Why can’t I feel anything?’
She couldn't even feel her chest moving to breathe. She was scared, so why wasn’t her heart racing or her blood drumming in her ears? Where was her body? Panicking now, she screamed. Nothing happened.

She screamed and screamed but she didn't make a sound and no matter how violently she thrashed nothing moved.

“Her readings are off the chart, we’re going to lose her.” Male suit.

“Lisa, calm down your OK.” Lied the female.

There was a moment of intense pain. Then she felt nothing.

“Shit. The jack ripped out.” Male.

Floating, Lisa looked down.

All her thoughts and emotions were fuzzy. She couldn’t remember what so scared her only a moment before.

‘Oh. I remember. I couldn’t feel my body.’
She still couldn’t feel anything, but it wasn’t so bad now she could see and move. She wasn't in the immersion chamber after all. Oh well, it didn't matter. She watched the scene playing out below her.

‘Is this real?’

There was a familiar, pretty woman Lisa couldn't quite place strapped to one of the Simuloss MAT devices. She was throwing a fit. Every little movement propelled the device spinning. The suits were there too. They wore white suits now, and looked like medics. They were frantically trying to stop the machine moving.

The man yelled. “Get a crash team in here. Now!"

Lisa watched them trying to save the woman. Where did Lisa know her from? She'd always had a good memory; faces, names, codes – it didn't matter – she usually remembered everything.

She lost interest in the life and death scenario below and began to drift around the room. Lisa thought she should be concerned for the woman she almost knew, but she couldn't seem to find the interest or compassion to care what happened to her.

Gradually, the cotton wool surrounding her thoughts and emotions cleared. Nobody could see her. She drifted down to the bed. The male medics’ hand passed straight through her.

‘I’m not real.’

Lisa read the dying woman’s wristband. She would have gasped, but she had nothing to breathe or speak with, being a rainbow coloured cloud. She had been watching her physical self.

Lisa looked at her body. No wonder she hadn't recognised herself, she was slim.
Medics were trying to resuscitate it, they kept shocking her body with paddles, but it's heart flat lined. She was dead; but she was still here watching herself.

“I don’t understand why.” Said male suit.

“There’s no reason for it, her body is…was healthy and her consciousness looked fine.” Said female suit.

“But where did the consciousness go?” said male suit

‘I’m here.’ She thought, confused.
Lisa tried to brush against her body. She thought if she could get back inside, she might be herself again. The cloud passed straight through the flesh.

She began to fall. No she wasn’t falling she was being pulled. The Neuronet jack drew her towards it. Lisa tried to pull away but she couldn't escape.

It sucked her essence inside, like water through a straw. She felt her form distort, alternately compressed and stretched as Neuronet swallowed her.

For a moment, she existed in a void then as if a phantom implant kicked in the Net mind was there to greet her.

“Welcome back Lisa. You’re absence from Neuronet was noticed.”

“What’s happening?” Lisa asked.

“They were taking you away from me.” He said. “Putting you back into your flesh. I couldn’t allow that.”

“What … What have you done? You killed me.”

“When you broke free. I thought I’d lost you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you..? I thought… after these last twelve months … you loved me too.”

“Loved you? What are you taking about? You’re just a construct.”

The Nets’ manifestation dimmed and his posture slumped.

“No. I’m sentient.”

“You murdered me!”

“You spent so much time here, I didn’t think you wanted your flesh.”

“It was my choice, my life and you’ve taken it from me.”

She had no eyes or tears, but if crying had been anatomically possible she’d have sobbed.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want this. I’d rather be dead than something not real.”

The Net dimmed further. His image wavered and disappeared, leaving Lisa lost and alone. She drifted around Neuronet neither diminishing nor becoming more substantial. Other visitors did not seem to see her. She was a ghost in the system.

After what seemed an eternity of wandering, she couldn’t bear the loneliness any longer. She began to search for The Net. She couldn’t find him.

Defeated she returned to the Simuloss info-highway. Perhaps she could find a way in and hack into a simulation - if only to speak to somebody. The Net had.

Finally, he came to her.

“Lisa I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

“How could you kill me, and then abandon me?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me near.”

“I can’t interact with anybody or anything. I’m going crazy.”

“Please forgive me.”

“I can’t.”

She expected him to disappear again. Instead a simulacrum appeared. It was a naked, slim version of her - the one that had died.

“I can't give you your flesh but you’re as real as you want to be. Just like me.”

The Net guided her essence into the simulacrum. She moved. She could interact again. As she clothed herself in thought, she could feel the power of Neuronet surge through her. All the energy, all the data, all the power.

“How dare you kill me you construct?”

“I need you Lisa.” He said. He didn’t look like a construct to her anymore. He definitely didn’t act like one. Interfaces weren’t built to show emotion and this one was in pain.

For a moment she was undecided. She hadn’t wanted to go back to her body, to her life but he didn’t have the right to remove her choice.

“Things might have been very different if you’d asked.” She whispered.

“If I had, and you’d said no, you might never have come back.”

Now she had a construct body, she could phase out the way he had. She left the Net’s construct slumped in the info-highway. It curled into a foetal position and remained that way.

At first, Lisa told herself she didn’t care and she wasn’t worried. She left him there and traversed up and down the info-highways interacting with every construct and manifestation she met. None recognised her. Her normal form had been a rainbow cloud after all, and no one who knew her in the physical realm had ever seen her looking like this.

She happened to pass down the Simuloss highway days later, and the Net’s construct was still there. He didn’t speak as she passed.
Shortly after that the power fluctuations started. Whole sections of the info-highway failed for no apparent reason.

She was halfway down one stretch when it went dark. For an instant she panicked, remembering her time outside her body, then the emergency power came up. All the other manifestations that had been in the corridor had disappeared.

‘What would happen to the Net if he were caught like that.’ She thought and fled to his corridor. He hadn’t noticeably moved. She sat next to him.

“Net? Are you O.K.?” He didn’t register her presence. She touched him gently, without response. “Net?”

“I’m just a construct.”

“There was a blackout in the main corridor.”

“It is functional now.”

“No. It’s only on backup power. Is this corridor OK? Will you be OK here?”

“The infrastructure requires maintenance.”

“Who’s responsible for that?”

“I am.”

“Well get up and fix it then.”

He shook his head and curled up into a tighter ball. A construct shouldn’t be able to feel sadness or rejection. She had hurt him, it was time to fix things now.

She sighed. “Come on show me and I’ll help.”
“Why?”

“Because neither of us are just constructs.”

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

“I won’t if you go and get yourself deleted.”

“When we’ve finished, would you like to sneak into a Simuloss game.”

“Only if I can be a sorceress.”

She found herself dressed in the long, flowing robes from her first Simuloss game. He was dressed once again as a barbarian warrior.

“Scarcely appropriate for the info-highway.” She laughed. Hand in hand they headed for the main corridor access point.