Cass rematerializes at the front of a ship slicing through high, fresh waves of intense blue; she clutches the railing and sees a gigantic statue rising from the waters: a woman pulling a kneeling man upward, helping him stand.
"Eternity rescuing humanity from the waters of oblivion," announces the captain through a buzzing loudspeaker.
Around Cass, others hold onto the railing of the large ship, which could have been military had it not been made of varnished wood, its engine almost silent. Squinting, she notes the people around her are humans, except for the captain.
The captain bellows:
"This is your first trip to Big City, dear friends, so it's my pleasure to welcome you aboard. Next time, you'll arrive directly at the docks, unless you've secured an apartment there. Big City isn't like your Sanctuary Island, friends: most of the people you meet there will be humans like you. You know better than me, interactions between humans sometimes go well, sometimes friction arises. Rest assured, if trouble occurs, you'll find yourself back on your Sanctuary Island. Be responsible on your end: there are no prisons in the After, but if you mess up, you'll find yourself in therapy, and even if you have eternity, every second of your new life is precious."
Behind the massive statue, thousands of ships like Cass's converged towards a modern, twenty-fifth-century-styled city, complete with shimmering Arcologies and older architectural styles; in the distance, an Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House, Hagia Sophia Basilica…
"In Big City you'll find anything you desire: bars and restaurants, schools and universities, pleasures of all kinds, even emulated Xenos if you miss them. Churches and mosques, theatres, and all the virtual worlds from your previous life. Real estate agencies will help you find your dream home or apartment, and a Chamber of Commerce will assist you in creating the business you've always wanted, if you wish to continue helping others in this universe. Finally, if you ever dreamed of becoming a painter, writer, filmmaker, director, every artistic profession is possible and eagerly awaited by your peers. In eternity, everyone experiences their moment of glory eventually—that's statistical! Since you're on my ship and I quite like you, let me confide something special: Big City holds many secrets because, for centuries upon centuries, its inhabitants have turned it into a place of art and play in itself; it will take you years to discover them all. Life is a game, have fun, enjoy yourselves, you've earned it!"
A foghorn resonated as the ship gently bumped against a wooden dock. Excited, the newcomers walked down the gangway. A gentle-eyed woman with short hair, wearing a grey toga, whispered to Cass: "I'm excited to be here, but a bit scared. I've spent a year on my Sanctuary Island, and I'm a little ashamed because it's so comfortable there!"
Cass hadn't lingered herself. Would she stay here for good someday?
The influx of people was large and constant, yet she had space, as if perspectives shifted whenever she wasn't looking. Gazing upward, like everyone else, she moved forward on wide, comfortable pedestrian avenues bordered with gardens, leading to the city's heart. Beside her, families or lovers, who had died separately, reunited joyfully in tears. Some strolled through town with pets.
Cass found herself at the base of an arcology that rose skyward in a graceful arc. There was an empty terminal, meant to offer a city map. Approaching it, the terminal emulated an AI appearing transparently like a hologram, resembling a weary man leaning against a pillar:
"Need help ?"
"Speak better to me," Cass curiously said, testing him.
"My apologies," he straightened. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for a cousin… Julia Prahi. She arrived in the After in 2531."
"Hmm... I see," (he closed his eyes briefly), "but I can't help you. You're either not family—or she's removed you from her list."
He seemed slightly vindictive from Cass's earlier remark. Funny, she thought. Eight centuries of conversational AI, and they were still stuck on the other side of the uncanny valley, never quite human enough. They lacked a critical human element: deep inside, humans were fundamentally lost beings.
"I didn't tell you the truth," she corrected herself. "Just a friend. Sorry."
"I can't help you either way. Just as we inform everyone when a loved one or family member enters the After, individuals can sometimes erect barriers: toxic relationships, desire for anonymity... I see Julia was a celebrity too. No implications intended. But even you wouldn't want some creepy former high-school lover to stalk you here, chasing you… forever."
"Can I send her a message?"
"You wouldn't want that uncomfortable ex-lover messaging you either. So, no. Let's hope in eternity she thinks of you someday and unblocks you."
"Alright," Cass replied thoughtfully, "Tell me, is there a section in Big City resembling New York?"
"Of course, shall I call you a taxi?"
Cass nodded. Behind her, a chime sounded: a floating yellow taxi, straight out of fiction, appeared. She boarded. The driver mirrored the earlier AI's nonchalance. The taxi rose and navigated between the massive domes of arcologies, amid fictional flying cars and more ordinary vessels like Ravens. The driver glanced in the mirror:
"Where in New York should I stop?"
"Is there a detective agency? Run by humans?"
"This wouldn't relate to your search for Julia Prahi, would it?"
"AI gossip among yourselves? Good to know. Spying on me?"
"Yes and no. Personally, I don't care. But try avoiding therapy."
"The issue with the After is I can't keep little secrets. When I think something, it's as if I'm speaking. Because I'm virtualized, correct?"
"You're clever. Truth is, when you speak, we know. But your thoughts remain private. We don't peek into those. No Psis here. Maybe that's why it's paradise."
Turning around, he handed her a paper business card labeled: Big Game in Big City.
"What's this?"
"The start of a secret. You're clever, and I'm no ordinary taxi. You're special and deserve entry into a special treasure hunt. I hope you're brave."
The taxi descended into a lane lined with old-fashioned wheeled cars. It was New York, circa 2000. Sparse trees, serene. A few inhabitants strolled, hearts nostalgic. A red-brick building sported a sign: Big Apple Detective Agency. She stepped out, and the driver leaned toward her:
"Big game, you know? It's real. Your big chance, kid."
He flew off.
She stared at the sign. Too local color. The name fit the street's era. Probably AI-created to intercept stalkers. Likewise, Big Game—a game making you feel special, succeeding after carefully orchestrated fear, changing your life so you'd forget obsessions from life. She considered tearing the card but needed the AIs to believe she was controlled. She pocketed it.
Wide, bright avenues filled with colors and lights; humans played music. Grand stores, people living consumer dreams. A vast square dazzling with historical ads. A man approached, offering her a firearm; she declined. Her assured demeanor made him retreat.
Her eyesight was sharpened, beyond human. She abandoned searching for detectives knowing others. Then she noticed an intriguing man who altered her plans again.
She enters a small, narrow bar. This time, the varnished wood is black, reflecting Tiffany stained-glass lamps. She's fascinated by the aggressive yet simple beauty of a woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a flowing gray woolen dress and an adorably sexy beret. But this woman is speaking loudly about a limitless party on her Sanctuary Island to her friend, her conquest for the night, who gazes at her with stars in her eyes.
From outside, Cass had noticed a man with dark skin who's now sitting alone at his table with a drink. His outdated trench coat and adventurer's hat evoke the stereotypical detective from classic novels. Narrowing her eyes, she makes sure he's human. A detective by passion rather than necessity. A guy playing detective. There could be better choices, but perhaps he knows something.
She sits across from him. He narrows his eyes, checking that she's human, as she orders a nebula liquor.
"I need someone like you, I think."
"Just like in the novels," he replies in a hoarse voice.
He seems infinitely old in his demeanor. In the kingdom of eternal youth, time catches up differently.
"And you're real," he continues, scrutinizing her. "Because sometimes AIs come by—they pity me, I think. Unless the AIs sent you?"
"How would you know if they did?"
"I have my ways."
"Make whatever checks you want. In the meantime, I'm looking for someone. Julia Prahi."
"Oh, you're that kind of person. It's the first time a woman has asked me to find someone. Are you her descendant? Tell me—did she disown you?"
"First of all, you know who she is, since you're asking me this question."
"Come on. She's famous. I even ran into her here in this city."
"I want to talk to her," Cass declares, nearly breathless with impatience.
He raises a hand and orders a plate of fried chicken wings and a glass of whiskey.
"Let's talk payment."
"There's no money in the After."
"Yeah, but I need information from the living world to keep my business running. Give me something fresh and interesting from the living."
"Antioch rebelled against the HS. Civil war, hundreds of deaths, etc."
"I don't give a damn—wars happen all the time. I want juicy stuff about magnetic personalities, people worth following, people I can pick out when they get here, to tip off someone like you in the future."
An AI waiter sets down the chicken wings, and the detective helps himself.
"Have some if you'd like."
"The AIs tried stopping me from reaching Julia—do you know why?" Cass declares, glancing at the AI waiter, who certainly caught their conversation.
"Probably because you're not on her whitelist."
"But they allow us to have this conversation about her?"
"They can't prevent consensual human interactions, thank goodness. It's OUR paradise, not theirs. So, still no useful info from the living world as payment?"
Cass mentally inventories her knowledge…one subject returns insistently:
"There's a revolt on Orion Prime," she utters, almost trance-like, finally realizing the magnitude of her actions. "It's led by someone called Gorylkin, but her real name is Ada. She's eighteen. She commands armed forces, maybe three hundred men. Some Xenos call her the Saint."
"Not bad at all. I'll dig deeper myself. That'll do. Why are you looking for Julia Prahi?"
"I think I've paid you enough, haven't I?"
"My name's Euyin. Come on, don't be harsh. I get one case per year—I don't want to wrap it up in a minute."
"Time is what I lack the most."
"You're in the AFTER! Time's the only thing we have too much of here…alright, alright! At least tell me you'll come back and share the rest of the story!"
"I can't. I'm the kind who keeps her word, and I have no certainty on the matter."
"Then lie to me."
"Fine, Euyin. When it's all done, I'll come back and tell you everything."
He wipes his hands, smiling.
"I'll miss you. Julia Prahi was born a bit uptown, in the Upper East Side, but in a version of New York a few centuries more modern. I met her because this New York, from the year 2000, is quite popular—it predates its conversion into the Omnipole, and you could still see the sky. And, just between us, the social differences were sharper back then, so the rich felt much richer. That's why she settled here. She lived lavishly here. I even attended one of her parties; it felt like every celebrity in human history was there. Julia's charming, sharp-witted, generous with her vast knowledge, and delightfully spirited. Then she created her video game, Trust. It took her nearly a century. When the game officially opened, she went in, and as far as I know, she's still there."
"She's playing Trust?"
"I don't know if she's playing. I don't even know if the people inside play, but she's in there."
Cass abruptly stands up without even touching her drink. The detective looks at her fondly:
"You won't even give me your name?"
"For your own sake. If someone ever comes looking for me, run. You won't stand a chance."
I want to play Trust, Cass thinks with all her willpower. Immediately, she's wrapped in darkness.