Adventures Off-Line

by Steven L. Schiff

A Short Story

Charles Kingston retired to his sitting room at 7 P.M. and asked his maid to bring him a cup of lightly sugared cof-tea. Then he settled into his favorite chair and looked at his seven blank video monitors. The guests would be arriving shortly and he wanted to have a few moments alone to reflect before receiving them.

Cathy brought his cof-tea about five minutes later, dripping hot liquid onto expensive carpeting as she walked.

"Can't you be more careful?" he asked as he took the overflowing cup from her hands.

"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "I'll clean up the spills, right away."

Charles sipped his beverage as the girl hustled away to find a sponge. The cof-tea was too sweet, as usual.

"Use less sugar next time, please," he ordered as she wiped up her spillage. "You know I'm trying to watch my calories."

"Yes sir."

As she finished her cleaning and left the room, Charles wondered why the lower class had to be so clumsy. _Why can't they ever take a little pride in their work?_ It took several sips of his soothing beverage to erase the maid's inefficiencies from his mind.

Mother logged in at about a quarter after seven. He called up her image on the largest of the seven monitors in the center of his display.

"Mother, how are you? And how is Florida this time of year?"

"Hot," she replied. "Too hot. And how is Maine?"

"Too cold," he said with a smile.

"Will your employer be joining us this evening?"

"I see enough of Mr. Longwood during the day, Mother. I didn't invite him. I only have the seven social monitors; I prefer to keep him on the business monitor in my study."

"You're not getting along with him?"

"I just don't like mixing business with pleasure. We get along fine. I upload my reports; he tears them apart. I make corrections; he corrects my corrections. But ultimately, he likes my work. He's even hinted at a possible promotion in my future."

"That's wonderful, Charles. Once you marry, you'll need the extra income." At the mention of his fiancee, Charles glanced at his watch. It was 7:25; Julie could be logging in at any moment. He felt his heart beat faster in anticipation.

Aunt Harriet, calling from the monitor in her private bedroom, was actually the next to arrive. Uncle Stewart was next, calling from HIS private bedroom, followed almost immediately by the Stevensons. Charles found himself listening to an endless, boring conversation between his mother, aunt and Belinda Stevenson on the proper etiquette of video banqueting.

"I think all guests should be eating the same foods," said Aunt Harriet. "It's rude for one person to be having steak while the other dines on lobster. And that's true whether they're logging in from separate rooms in the same house, or from cities that are hundreds of miles apart."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Belinda. "As long as everyone is eating from matching place settings."

"Well, to do otherwise would be a dreadful breach of protocol," announced his mother. And the chatter went on and on and on. Charles found himself dosing off and rang the serving bell to have his girl bring another cup of cof-tea.

"You look well," he said, treating the lady to his warmest, most gracious smile.

"Thank you, Charles," she replied, blushing prettily. "I always try to look my best." Julie quickly brushed a strand of thin blonde hair out of her face, then returned her hand to unseen areas, outside of monitor's view.

Charles wished he could see beyond the scope of the monitor to drink in the pleasure of his beloved's body, an experience which had heretofore been denied him.

"I'm crazy about you. You know that don't you?" he said.

"Well, I should hope you're crazy about me! You've not logging on with any other young ladies, are you?"

"Never. Never in a million years."

"Ah, young love!" exclaimed his mother, daintily dabbing moist eyes with a handkerchief.

"Shame it grows old so quickly," said his uncle.

"Not ours," said Julie. "Charles and I will always feel about each other just as we do today." Charles thought longingly of their first in-person meeting, planned for sometime in late July, seven months hence. He'd originally hoped to rendezvous in late February or early March, but Julie's mother had firmly rejected those plans.

"It is not seemly for a young man and woman to meet personally before the courtship is at least a year old. If we start making exceptions, we'll be no better than those twentieth century pagans who held hands on the first date and headed for the bed chamber on the second."

"You're right, of course," Charles had said, secretly jealous of his twentieth century forbearers. "From now on, I will keep my passions firmly in check."

Now, looking at Julie's delicate features on his video monitor, Charles wished he had put up more of a fight.

What harm could it do if Julie and I met today or next week? he thought. We'd be most respectful of each other, especially if her mother remained in the room at all times.

"Wake me at 10 sharp," he ordered. "I'll be video conferencing with my firm shortly thereafter." According to what his employer had said that afternoon, they had a few very important matters to discuss.

"Charles, we have big problems."

"Are you unhappy with my last report?"

"No. No, your reports have been much better of late," said Longwood. "The firm thinks you have great promise."

Charles breathed a small sigh of relief. "Then what is the problem, sir?" he asked.

"We're going off-line."

"What? Why? What's wrong with the firm's system?"

"It's not just the firm's system, Charles. Video and electronic communications for our entire country will be shut down sometime next week."

"I don't understand."

"Charles, our country's system is nearly a century old. It's breaking down from place to place with increasing frequency. The government has decided to take everyone off-line for up to three months in order to fix, replace and generally overhaul all switching equipment, cables and wiring."

"That's--that's horrible. Why haven't I heard about these plans before?"

"From what I understand, it's been a closely guarded secret. The government was afraid of the protests such a shutdown would cause. They didn't want to have to explain it all to countless lobbyists and businesses. That's why they waited so long to tell us about it. Due to my position as head of a Fortune 500 company, I was informed late Monday afternoon. I was instructed to pass the information on to my employees."

"So what . . . what are we going to do?" Charles wondered how business could possibly be conducted without electronics. Longwood lived in New York. Other executives lived everywhere from Washington state to California to Puerto Rico.

"We're going to have to run our business through the mail," said Longwood.

"The mail? Do you mean the paper transfer system that the working classes use?" Charles inquired.

"Everyone's going to be using it for a while, Charles. We really have no choice in the matter."

Charles was aghast. After his employer logged off, he immediately called his mother.

"I don't believe it," she said, worry lines appearing on her forehead and around her mouth.

"It's true, Mother."

"But what about the Peterson's video banquet next month? What about my charity calls to the hospital's central monitoring system? And my nightly conversations with your aunt. Who will I talk to? I'll be so lonely."

"I guess you'll have to talk to the servants, mother."

"Talk to the servants? We have nothing in common."

"You'll find something to do. It won't be that bad. You'll see," said Charles, wondering how he was going to survive without seeing Julie. She was the next person he called. His heart sunk as her pale face appeared on his large central social monitor.

After Julie's initial denial of the facts, and her mother's protestations, Charles' fiancee succinctly put her feelings into words. "I'm going to miss you, Charles."

"We could always move up the date of our in-person meeting."

"Even under these circumstances, that's out of the question," said her mother. "Control yourself, Charles. Put those thoughts out of your mind. Everything will be back to normal soon enough. Put your trust in the government."

"You're working yourself to a frazzle, sir," said Cathy. "You really should find more diversions for yourself." But Charles just dove more deeply into his work, since the alternative was to sit by himself in his sitting room, stare at blank monitors and pine for Julie. His lady had never learned the ancient art of writing with pen and ink, so she couldn't even send him letters. After six weeks, the mail brought a disturbing message from Longwood. 'Repairs to take longer than expected. System will be off-line for at least another two months,' wrote his employer. Charles thought he was going to go out of his mind.

John and Mary, the elderly couple who cooked his meals and performed minor repairs of his various modern appliances, got together with another elderly couple every Wednesday night to talk and play card games. On other nights, they would sit quietly and read novels, collections of short stories or poetry. They also fancied long walks in the garden and bicycle trips to unknown destinations.

Cathy was perhaps the most outrageous of the group. Almost every evening, she had visits from love-sick working class men who'd sit with her on the patio, whisper in her ear, laugh out loud and hold hands scandalously. Every morning, she'd dress in a skin-tight body suit and trot out the back door to 'have a good run around the estate.' And she also set aside time to read scores of trashy romance novels and weekly working class tabloids.

It never ceased to amaze Charles how much of his servants' time was spent outdoors and in direct personal contact with other human beings. In their own unconventional ways, they led full and productive lives.

"Do you play chess, Cathy?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you play chess? It's an old game my people discovered a few months back. Some of us have grown quite fond of it. There's even talking about setting up video tournaments next year. If you've never heard of it, I can understand. It's an intellectual sort of game and requires a sophisticated sensibility."

"I know how to play chess, sir," said the girl, somewhat coldly.

"You do? How marvelous. If the monitor's weren't down, I'd certainly enjoy playing a game or two with you."

"You want me to play chess with you?"

"Yes, why not?"

"Well, I don't know, sir . . ."

"It's a moot point anyway since the monitors are down," he said. "But one day, when things return to normal, let's try to sit down and have a game. I'll try not to beat you too badly."

"Sir, I have a chess board."

"A chess board?"

"Yes. I have real chess pieces and a real chess board. If you truly want to play with the likes of me, I'll go and grab it," she replied, even more coldly this time.

Charles was somewhat displeased with her tone of voice, but he was also anxious for a bit of companionship, so he told the girl that he would, in fact, like to play a game on her 'real chess board.' So Cathy disappeared and returned moments later with the physical equivalent of the game he'd enjoyed on the video monitors. He felt fortunate that she did have this quaint, old-fashioned version of the game. It might be amusing to play in such a manner.

After watching Cathy manually set up the pieces on an oversized card table, they began to play. "I trust you know how the pieces move?" he asked, helpfully.

"Yes sir, I know how they move," she said in that same rude tone of voice. Under other circumstances, he would have chastened her for her impudence.

Fifteen minutes later, Charles found himself in checkmate. "You didn't play fairly," he said. "I didn't see that my queen was under attack from your rook. You took it without warning me."

"Well, let's play again," said the girl in a cheerful voice. "And I'll make sure to warn you before I take your pieces." That sounded fair and reasonable. Yet, just a few ticks of the clock later, Charles had lost again.

"I don't understand it," he said. "I've always fared rather well against my video opponents."

"Don't feel bad, sir," said Cathy. "I've been playing this game since I was six. My father taught me." Charles examined the final position of his second losing effort. He couldn't understand how this -- this maid could better him in such a contest. He was irritated and becoming quite cross. "Do you want to play again, sir?" the girl asked.

"No. No, I've had enough," he responded curtly.

Still he was very, very bored and was becoming dissatisfied with his video-less reports and other work. He began to clandestinely observe the girl with more and more interest. He noted the variety of men who called on her, the shameless manner of her dress and the glow of her thick brown hair in the outdoor sunlight. The girl was far from Julie's equal, but Charles had to admit that she had her charms.

One afternoon about a week later, Cathy visited him in his study, uninvited, and began a curious conversation. "Are you still mad about those chess games?" she inquired.

"Of course not," he said, noting her short shirt and long, silky legs.

"I've noticed you watching me, Charles," she said, using his given name in a most inappropriate manner. "I've seen you lurking in corners, frowning at my boyfriends."

"Young woman, I do not lurk in corners and I haven't said a word to your 'boyfriends'," he announced.

"Do you find me attractive?" she asked, kneeling by his chair, seductively.

"Yes, you are -- uh -- quite desirable," he admitted. The girl touched the bare skin of his hand with her tender digits, and a thrill passed through every part of Charles' body. "A woman should not touch a man in such a manner, unless they're legally married," he said.

"If you think that's bad," she said, perching on his lap and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "how does this strike you?"

"This is most unseemly," said Charles, just before she grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his mouth. Charles was filled with a passion he'd never fully experienced before. His breath quickened and his heart skipped a beat. Almost against his will, he found himself pulling at the girl's blouse, tugging at her skirt and running his tongue across her naked flesh. Soon, he was engaging in acts he'd only heard about previously. He was behaving like a pagan, rolling around on the floor of his study with the provocative maid, clothes scattered about the room in wanton abandon.

"Oh Charles," she cried as he succeeded in consummating the act. "I want more. Give me more!!"

So, this is how the other half lives, he thought. There is something to be said for differing cultures.

Charles was quite ashamed of himself, but he was never bored.

"Charles, We're all on-line again! I'm so happy," said the matron.

The man was dumbfounded. "It's about time," he said to the older woman on the screen. "It's time to put our lives back in order." Charles hurried to his study and called Longwood. His employer congratulated him on the exemplary reports he had sent during the blackout and gave him a number of assignments to complete in the following days.

After logging off, Charles tried to plunge himself into this new, rewarding work, but was interrupted by the girl, Cathy. "Charles," she said. "Are you ready for our morning jog?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "My monitors are back on-line and I have a lot of work to do."

"Your monitors are back on-line? Does that mean you're going to turn into a jerk again?"

"What do you mean 'turn into a jerk'?"

"I mean, are you going to start ignoring me again, like you used to?"

"Of course not. What would make you even think such a thing?"

The girl made an unpleasant face which Charles tried to ignore.

When she left the room, he plunged himself into his work.

"It's good to see you again," she said.

"It's great to see you, too," he replied, casting a glance at her mother on the adjacent monitor.

"What have you done these past months, Charles?" she asked. "Have you missed me terribly?"

"Yeah. Uh--Yes, of course I've missed you."

"Well then, I have a surprise for you," she said. "My mother has moved up the date of our in-person meeting." Her eyes stared blankly as she smiled a phony little smile. Despite himself, Charles found himself comparing Julie to Cathy. There was no comparison. Cathy was far more . . . enticing.

"Under the circumstances," said her mother, "I think a meeting is warranted. You'll be welcome at our estate on the third of next month."

"Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to cause a scandal or anything."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Julie. "We're engaged, remember?"

"Yes, I remember."

His conversation with Julie continued for a mind-numbing half hour. She talked about people they'd met on the video. She talked about their relationship, about having children, about living together for the rest of their lives. She asked if he liked the new way she was wearing her mousy blonde hair. She was dull and dumb, and bored him nearly to death.

When Julie finally logged off, Charles dragged himself back to his study, where he was confronted by a very petulant maid.

"So, what were you doing in the sitting room, all this time?" Cathy asked, hands perched imperiously on her hips.

"Just talking to friends."

"You were talking to HER, weren't you?"

"Well, she is my fiancee," he said, trying to avoid looking at Cathy's cleavage, remarkably accented by a low cut dress.

"Fiancee? That's a laugh. You've never even kissed her."

"We do things differently in my society."

"I think you're all a bunch of nuts," she replied, with fire exploding from her eyes.

"I resent that."

"Resent this!" said the girl, slapping him hard across the face.

"Cathy!"

"Leave me alone!" She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

A short time later his mother logged in, and he found himself trapped in another endless conversation.

"Charles, I'm going on a date, tonight," Cathy said as she primped in the mirror. "I don't have time for you right now."

"Cancel your date. And spend another hour or two with me."

"You've got your friends back. What do you need me for?"

"You're my friend, too. And my lover."

"Not any more."

"Cathy!"

"Go call Julie. After all, SHE's your fiancee. Bother her . . . and leave me alone."

"I -- I'm going to break it off with Julie."

"When?"

"Soon."

"Goodbye Charles."

"Cathy, what can I say . . . what can I do to make it right between us? How can I win you back?"

"Lose the fiancee."

"He's avoiding me," she said to the girlfriend on her central monitor.

"Have you asked him 'why'?"

"I don't have to ask, I know. He's found someone else." "But who?" chimed in another friend from a second monitor. "None of the girls I know have logged in with Charles. And none of thegirls Sue or Jane knows have spoken to him either. So if he's hooked up with someone else, it's no one we know."

"She's probably some fancy video-vixen with a man on everymonitor," said Julie. "And when I find out who she is, I'll knock her off-line for good."

Julie talked with her girlfriends for hours. And the longer she talked, the angrier she became. When Charles finally logged in later that night, she was mad enough to break off the engagement. Unfortunately, Charles beat her to the punch. "I'msorry Julie. But Cathy is the only woman for me." Julie was ready to throw a shoe at the monitor. "And just who is this Cathy?" she demanded. "What makes her so special? What can she give you that I can't give?"

"Adventures," he said. "Adventures Off-Line."