Thaigoon was just seconds away from not being able to hear the door ping when it did, in fact, ping. Thaigoon considered not answering it for a moment, but it might be something interesting. He wasn’t certain if his latest venture in wasting time would yield favorable results. Still, he hesitated, staring at the door trying to decide if he wanted to answer it. It was rarely anything of interest. He sighed, “Whatever.” He answered the door.

As the door slid open, Booster was just turning away. He hesitated and looked back. In the scrum, Booster’s brown hair was a neatly combed short hair style. Although Booster had the somewhat large, angular features of Eastern Europeans and pale skin to match, he somehow maintained a bookish, almost mousy countenance. Thaigoon didn’t care for a lot of people in the colony. Booster was at least tolerable.

“Huh. What you want, ginny?” Thaigoon asked. He was standing there in a formfitting suit that included a hood and it had hexagonal white tiles covering his whole body.

Booster immediately recognized it. The finger guns he was holding up dropped as he realized. “Are you using VR inside of a scrum?”

Thaigoon smiled. He couldn’t help it when his genius was recognized. And for all the trouble he gave Booster he knew Booster was one of the few who could understand what Thaigoon was doing. “Yup. Take a look.” He held up a set of very thin VR goggles that were clearing not technically accurate.

Booster immediately recognized that Thaigoon was sort of cheating. The goggles were just a dummy representation of the tech rather than simulated tech like most anything other tech you would find in scrum. In the real world, these goggles would just be like painted goggles. But Thaigoon told the scrum they were tech, so they acted like tech in the scrum. Booster held them up to his eyes. Apparently, he told the scrum it was very high quality.

Booster saw the dim lights of a nice old style pub. He could almost feel the warm embrace of oak beams, lacquered wood, and worn flagstone floors. One wall of the pub had an imposing oak bar, polished to a gleaming sheen by years of use. It was adorned with an array of gleaming brass taps promising an impressive selection of ales, stouts, and ciders, while shelves behind it offered bottles of single malt whiskies and aged brandies. Around the room, a variety of wooden tables and mismatched chairs sat invitingly with an air of informality and their surfaces marred and worn with the marks of countless tankards and friendly games of darts. In one corner, a crackling fire casts a lively glow across the room.

He started to turn around and he could see quite a few people dressed casually if not perhaps in the style of decades past. People were moving in slow motion. It was likely a function of the suit not being entirely engaged so it was sort of pausing the simulation. There was a jukebox with people dancing. As Booster turned 180 degrees so he was now facing in the same direction as Thaigoon, there was a woman.

She had loose curly dark hair that had red highlights. Booster couldn’t be certain if the highlights were from the lighting in the bar, but it was a nice, subtle effect either way. She had long lashes that framed green eyes and an olive complexion with delicate facial features. She had a delightful smile as she was looking at Booster. It was a very good simulation.

Booster turned around and handed the goggles back. “Wow, that looks like a lot of fun. She seems nice. Is she based on someone you know?”

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Thaigoon’s face fell a bit. He hesitated before answering. “No, but I have a few months to get to know her.” His smile that reignited was congenial if not a little forced. “Back to the question. So, what you want?”

“Hey, yeah, right now we are unable to log out of the scrum. I was wondering if you might be able to do something so that we could log out.”

“No.” He thought about it for a second and his head waggled from side to side. “Yes. Well, maybe. But I won’t try.”

“Not even if it was an emergency?”

“Look, the problem is that I have a very specific way to bend around the system. If I do something like that, RETA might cut off that method. Which would suck for me. And I would say there is a limited chance to successfully accomplish what you want. Frankly, even if one of us could exit the scrum, if RETA doesn’t want you messing with things, then she could probably stop you. So, unless it is truly something life-threatening, and I can’t imagine how RETA would let that happen, I’m not doing anything.”

“Yeah, I get you.” Booster rubbed the back of his head. “Anyway, good luck with...uh...what’s her name anyway?”

“Don’t know yet.” He smiled but his eyes did not. “See you, ginny.”

Thaigoon closed the door and sat on his bed. He held up the VR goggles to his face and looked at her. His face held little sign of the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He never should have made this stupid simulation. It won’t bring her back. It won’t change what he did. It won’t solve anything.

The claustrophobia threatened to overtake him. It was hard to breathe. He felt like he could feel himself stuffed in a capsule and the gel pressing against his body as the macrofluid flowed around him. He was suffocating. He needed to move. He needed to move now.

He lurched to his feet grasping the googles in his hand and he was shaking. He gasped and he couldn’t pull any air into his lungs. He knew it wasn’t real. This is still a scrum. There is no air. There are no lungs. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s NOT real. It’s not real. The darkness started to encroach on the edges of his vision.

He dropped to his knees and flopped onto his side. The goggles fell from his hands. Finally, as he started to fade unconscious, he was able to slowly pull in some air. And the panic began to pass. For a moment, he was too tired to panic. The way the goggles landed upside down on the floor, he could see her face. She was also upside down too, but she seemed immune to gravity.

“I’m sorry.” Thaigoon muttered. It felt hollow. It was hollow. She couldn’t hear him. He felt foolish. She’s had 80 years to forget about him and move on. She’s probably had an amazing life. The best thing he ever did was leave her and the baby. Ha! Baby! That baby is probably 80 years old and has grandchildren. And they had no idea who he was or what he had done. Time heals all wounds, right?

How many times would he repeat this rationale in his head? How many times did he need to tell himself before he would believe it? Maybe he should never be given that satisfaction. He left them. He told them nothing. God, he was such a shit. He deserved to rot in a hole or get blown out of an airlock. Why did he let her father talk him into this? What if he got her to abort the baby?

She wouldn’t do that. She just wouldn’t. He never deserved her. They both deserved better than him. In the back of his mind, he knew that they probably found someone better, and yet that near certain knowledge did nothing to assuage his guilt or his self-loathing.

“Thaigoon?” RETA spoke softly if still somewhat dispassionately. Thaigoon’s technical side mused at the subtlety of the programming.

“Yes, RETA.” He whispered.

“Do you need assistance?”

“No, RETA. I’ll be ok.”

“Your vitals have returned to normal. Please inform me if you need any assistance.”

“I will.” He rolled on his back, and he stared at nothing. “I’m a little tired.”

The door ping woke him. It took him a second to realize he was still on the floor. He remembered the events of earlier. He felt a little better. He hadn’t slept for a couple days. He had needed sleep. Did he imagine the door ping?

“RETA is someone at my door?”

“Yes, Mahina Arita is at your door.”