-What took you so long?- she asked.
-Where am I? –I said, but I already knew the answer.
-Home –she said-. Home.
And for the next two hours we had the strangest possible conversation anyone – in SL as well as in RL- could possibly have.
I told her about the gut feeling that started all this. And how I managed to leave SL and how I ended up in the Real World.
The woman took a deep breath and went to the bar.
-I know, she said-. I am a journalist too. I know the feeling. You get that from me, and…I need a drink –she said-. I usually don’t drink anything stronger than a Coke, but… well, this is different. Do you… are you… able to drink?
-No. Thanks. I just like a little Champagne once in a while. I picked up the habit here, in RL.
-Oh yes, I have read about it. OMG. You are having strange symptoms. Like if you were becoming….
-Human? Yes. I also thought so. It scares the hell out of me.
She asked Lina to bring me a glass of Champagne.
-It scares the hell out of me also. The whole thing –she said-. When you first vanished from the screen, I thought it was some kind of a tremendous SL glitch. So I contacted Linden Lab and they were as puzzled as Adam on Mother’s Day. The account was there, I was able to log in, but YOU were not there. They said they looked all over the grid. And then they found the SL Newspaper article and were even more puzzled. So for a long while the only information we could gather was from reading your articles. I was worried, and very much confused. And then I had to come to terms with the truth: you really were “out here”, trying to figure out your existence –and ours-, and very much on your own, because there was no way I could reach you. And the Lindens were of no help at all. Like most of the time, by the way.
-Well, thank God for John Smith.
-Oh, yes. Thank God. But… Who the heck is that guy???? No way I buy his name is John Smith.
-I don’t know, but he certainly knows his way around this World. And he has been very helpful.
-Yes. He has. You wrote about it. But… he must know more than he admits. Why did he end up sending you here?
-He didn’t tell. He said I had to find out by myself.
She poured herself another shot of whisky, and gulped it down
like a cowboy.
-OMG. So it’s I who has to tell you the whole truth. Like… Santa is Dad, and there is no Easter Bunny…
-I don’t have a Dad. And I swear I have seen the Easter Bunny and was quite real to me –I answered, feeling a very strange uneasiness.
-Ha ha, yes, sweetie. In Second Life. Forget it. There’s no easy way to say to say what I have to say, though I’m guessing, deep down, you already know.
-What?
-You… are me. I am you. Whichever suits you best.
-OMG – I actually sighed, warm breath and all-. OMG. OMG.
-OH yes. You can say OMG again.
-And how…??? I mean… how….
-I made you –she said-. Here, in what you call “out here”, what we call Real Life, or “The World”, we have this computer game called Second Life. And we log in and we make ourselves an “avatar”, and we play around with it. With
“her”. With you.. You.. I mean.. What I am sure now is … I can no longer call it a game.
-You mean… I don’t really exist? Second Life is just… a game?????
-I wish!! Oh, sorry. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just…this is so disturbing. You should never have been able to take a leap from there to here. It’s not logical, it’s not normal, it’s not… right.
-Yeah. You are telling me…
And suddenly we both were laughing our guts out. And our laughter sounded just the same, as, by the way, did our voices.
-So…- I said-, is it possible for me to go to the place where this so called Linden Lab is, and go talk to somebody?
-Oh no. They were worried enough about having you running around loose out here. They are scared. What if other avatars feel like doing the same?
-That’s not possible. I will never tell anyone the secret place in the Grid that works as a portal. I gave my word to the Slelf.
-Yes… but the fact is … now we know there’s a bridge. And others will try to find it. It’s in our nature. And you must have understood, by now, that the nature of avatars… is our nature. You all have someone on this side, “pulling your strings”.
-Well… that’s relative – I said-. You didn’t “make” me look for this Real World, did you?
-Well… I think not.
-And I think I would also like to have some of that lasagna you are going to have for dinner.
She smiled.
-Of course –she said-. But after dinner we are going to chat some more about ourselves, and about our worlds, and then we are going to find a way to send you right back to SL. OK? Before you keep getting more human and end up taking my place here. Don’t take it the wrong way… but you are so pretty. And SO tall.
-Hahaha. Right. Yes, I really would like to go back. I miss my boyfriend. I miss my friends. I miss HOME.
The rest of what we talked about, it’s confidential. I imagine you will understand.
By midnight, we both sat in front of the Mac. She logged in. She told me to open the Map and type the exact coordinates to the place from which I had taken the leap.
We looked at each other and hugged for a few minutes. A twenty prim tear fell off my left eye.
-Take care of my RL-I said-.
-And you take good care of my SL, OK? -she said-. I love you.
-Yes. I know. And I love you too.
We both pushed the ENTER key at the same time.
So, I am back home. In Second Life. And I must report to the newspaper. And I have to call my boyfriend. And I need to take a shower with our delicious dry water, and change my clothes and my hair. The Real World is a dusty place. I really need to click on my chimera and dance ‘till I crash. And now that I know the way… I can always go back to check what those crazy real people are up to. (Always in trouble: when I left they were dealing with a major money crisis and with a new virus that causes “influenza”, whatever that means). It has been a wonderful adventure, and I did confirm the rumors: we were all created out there. I am living proof. So take it for granted: SL started with a “BIT” BANG.
Covadonga Writer
No longer on assignment: back home.
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