CHAPTER 23 - SOLARIUM

Sindy Blazer approached the grand double doors of the Mansion of the President of the Reserve Bank and Counting House of Second Life with confidence and determination to get to the bottom of the rumors concerning the value of the currency of Second Life – the Linden. The ornate doors were painted a cream color and stained glass windows with dollar signs glittering upon them flanked the doors on either side. Sindy reached for the silken red bell cord and pulled. A faint tiny bell was herd ringing within.

In a few moments Sindy heard light footsteps and the door silently opened wide. A pale short man in a black tuxedo and sparkling white shoes greeted her. He was wearing white gloves and very small pince nez glasses were propped on his rather large nose. His hair was grey and he had a bald spot the size of a hand on his head where bald spots usually resided. The doorman smiled the kind of smile you saw on the dentists face when he told you it was not covered by your insurance, but he was willing to make you a deal.

“Ah Miss Blazer, the President has been expecting your for some time,” said the little man as he stepped aside, held out his arm, and motioned Sindy into the grand hallway.

As Sindy stepped onto the parquet floor, the door was silently closed, and the doorman led Sindy down a very long hall toward a solarium in the distance. She passed several larger rooms on either side of the hallway. The fireplaces were blazing in each room although the rooms were empty of avatars. Probably reception rooms thought Sindy, as she passed a grand spiral staircase leading to the second and third floors. She paused at a large painting of a sea battle long ago. The little brass plate at the bottom read ‘Battle of CousCous Bay and the Glorious Victory of the Yellow Fleet.” Sindy looked closer. The painter was Jack Louy David, and Sindy was certain it was real, and worth a large fortune. The doorman had paused and Sindy turned and resumed her hike to the meeting with Chris Llanfair.

The doorman paused again and motioned Sindy into the solarium. “The President will see you soon, please wait here.” Sindy looked about. “May I get you some tea or cocoa perhaps?” asked the doorman.

“No thank you,” replied Sindy even though some tea would have been nice right now.

The doorman bowed and was gone.

The solarium was huge and was over three stories tall and covered with glass on three sides as well as on most of the roof. There was a pond in the middle containing several green three eyed koi with a statue of a small boy peeing onto the fish. The fish were not amused. Enormous fish tailed palms surrounded the pond and lovely bracken and ferns lined the base. The pond was lovely and slightly illuminated from below with a golden light. Little windows lined the base of the pond allowing the fish to view the floor. Only the fish were odd and they stared intently with their three eyes focused on Sindy as if you ask, ‘are you going to feed me or eat me?’

After a moment Sindy heard footsteps from down the hall and shortly Chris Llanfair dressed in a dark blue Seville Row suit arrived with Bradford Cananticle Monforte IV, Royal, Dauphan of Second Life, Associate Professor, famed historian, and Head of the Anti-Monarchist Party, in tow. Several elaborately dressed footmen in powdered wigs followed the royal, whom Sindy called Muffin, carrying his dark red velvet and gold gilt porti-throne. Muffin was dressed in a tweed hunting jacket, jodhpurs, and black riding boots with spurs still attached. Muffin was puffing, as usual, on his meerschaum pipe and slowly rocking his 4’2” frame back and forth until the throne was properly placed in a position of prominence in the solarium. As Muffin sat, the footmen took up positions on either side of the throne. Sindy recognized one of the footmen as Muffin’s security although she knew that both of the footmen were likely to be full members of the Assassins and Au Pairs Union.

“Ah Muffin, how delightful to see you,” said Sindy turning on her feminine charms. “And Chris. I hope you have both fully recovered from the Druid Grove incident.”

Muffin laughed, but said nothing as he continued to puff on his pipe like a small locomotive pulling up a steep hill.

“Sindy I’ve been expecting you,” said Chris Llanfair with a look of both mild amusement and friendship.

“Why?” asked Sindy.

“We could play games Sindy, but frankly we have another serious problem in Second Life,” said Chris.

“Yes, the Lindens about to collapse,” said Sindy with confidence bordering on certainty.

“No, its worse than that,” said Chris.

Sindy looked at Muffin. He wriggled his eyebrow as if to say, ‘Yes, big trouble.’

Sindy’s mind was racing. What could be worse than a monetary collapse? Well, there certainly were worse things like the plague, mandatory re-boots, and the loss of ones inventory, but Sindy knew Chris was referring to something else. Like a plot or conspiracy to destroy all they held dear in Second Life. Sindy heard footsteps approaching the solarium. In a few moments Mallory Sauternau and Chirs’ daughter Witney walked in. They were clearly in a hurry.

“You need to move fast Chris,” said Mallory. Chris and Muffin faced Mallory and Witney and they looked surprised.

“What have you found out?” asked Chris addressing Mallory.

Mallory said nothing but looked toward Sindy whom she recognized from here picture on the Society Page of The Times. Sindy recognized Mallory as the disgraced cop from the Goodword affair who was now a famous private dick and generator of the most delicious scandals in all of blue blood society.

“Its ok, Sindy is one of us. You can speak with her here,” said Chris as he looked at Sindy. “I know Sindy is a responsible reporter and will be of aid to us in preventing panic, chaos and terror.”

Mallory looked about as if to memorize the room and its occupants for later reference thought Sindy. Witney was jumpy, which was not unusual, realized Sindy, because she knew Witney well and Witney was always edgy. But tonight was different. Her energy seemed focused and more intense than usual. Not the usual mosh pit energy, but a more fixed intensity with a real purpose behind it.

“NAGS are behind the counterfeiting of the Linden,” said Mallory. Chris nodded as did Muffin. “Not thievery, but chaos and confusion is the goal. The methods are clear and I think they are behind the attacks on the aerodromes as well. The motive unknown, but they are seeking maximum instability throughout Second Life. The NAGS began with an attack on the currency. The currency they supply is not counterfeit. It’s real. It’s cloned.”

Mallory paused carefully forming her words.

“There’s tons of the stuff Dad,” said Witney. “Tons of it everywhere!”

Chris nodded. Muffin taped his dying pipe on the arm of the chair. Glowing ash fell onto the marble floor and sat there smoldering like a mad eyeball determined to win a stare down with the fish. Muffin repacked his pipe, and a footman held a flaming taper to the edge of the pipe as Muffin drew in breath and the tobacco began to glow and trails of smoke rose into the fish tail palms above.

Mallory continued, “They bribed the senate and the Rapido operators. They have been buying up property on the edges of sims with counterfeit notes.” Chris was listening intently.

Mallory spoke, “Also the NAGS are behind the cycle stealing on the servers. They are the only ones who could easily pull off cycle stealing through bribery and infiltration. Cycle stealing is getting bad late at night and I’m sure that citizens are noticing. They are blaming the Governor as usual.”

“As we suspected,” said Chris. Mallory was not surprised at Chris’ comment. Chris always seemed to be a step or two ahead of her.

Sindy stood motionless with her mouth open as two three eyed fish stared at her thinking she was related to a grouper or a sea bass. The fish concluded Sindy was dangerous and went to hide in the underwater castle by the sunken pirate ship and the mermaid. The mermaid was annoyed because the fish kept peeing in the water.

“Wait, wait,” interrupted Sindy. “Who are the NAGS and what is cycle stealing.”

Chris thought a moment and then spoke clearly and slowly. “The NAGS are a secret organization who want to overthrow Governor Linden and replace the Lindens with their own organization. Their motto is ‘Freiheit durch Sicherheit’ – Freedom in Security. They are a bad bunch. NAGS stands for Nerds And Griefers Syndicate. Almost every banned avatar is a member and they want revenge on all of us.”

Sindy closed her mouth as a mosquito barely escaped death. Oh lord thought Sindy another unwanted adventure, and it’s almost fashion week.

Chris continued, “Server cycles are what keeps Second Life alive. If they are stealing cycles they are sucking the life out of Second Life. Without adequate cycles we can’t move, support sims, build, or breathe. But what there doing with the cycles I cannot guess, but I know they are up to no good.”

Chris reached inside his suit coat and drew out a thick envelope. He handed it to Mallory and said, “I want you to locate this person. We think she is behind the counterfeiting, the attacks on the aerodromes, and is the leader of the NAGS. She is unlikely to be in Capital City, but in order to take over she’s going to have to show up here. Perhaps in a few days.”

As Chris spoke Mallory opened the envelope containing papers and several pictures. One picture fell to the floor. Sindy spotted a head shot of a cadet from the Academy of Balloons. She was beautiful Sindy could see. Perhaps the most beautiful face Sindy had ever seen in a reality of lovely faces and bodies. Sindy reached down and picked up the photo. As she handed it to Mallory she read the legend below the picture. Loopy Loo read the legend. Loopy Loo wondered Sindy?

“And I have another thing Chris,” said Mallory. Chris looked toward Mallory. “You and your family are on a hit list. So is your senior staff. You need to get your people and their families out of the Capital immediately.”

Chris looked surprised realized Mallory. The President of the Reserve Bank had not figured that he and his family were in personal danger.

Chris was about to say something but he paused and checked himself. He needed some time to think.

“There’s no time Chris.” Said Mallory. “You need to go to a sim where you have no history and no past. Somewhere remote and primitive.”

Chris spoke, “I can order the staff out of town immediately, but I can’t leave. No I have to stay and support the government.”

“But you gotta go Dad, there going to kill you,” said Witney on the edge of hysteria.

Chris turned to his daughter. He looked upon her as a 12 year old little girl, just on the edge of delinquency and parental rejection. He always saw her this way. Except for that night at the Druid Grove when Witney decked Sister Letum with a vicious kick in the desperate fight to stop the return of the True Kings. At that moment he saw her as a powerful woman and more than capable of taking care of herself. That’s what four years at Second Life’s best reform school will do for a young lady he thought. Now she was 12 years old again in Chris eyes and he had to get her out of town to someplace safe. But Chris knew Witney would not leave him alone. And he could not go. He had to stay and face the threat.

“Aghhum,” said Muffin speaking for the first time. “Witneys, I thave a missions for yous. It’s dangerouff but criticals.”

Witney looked surprised.

“I needs you ta takes a message to Captain Pugilist at ta Blimps Worksf,” Muffin said. “The fate of our lands may well rest on your shoulders Miss Llanfair,” he concluded.

Witney was torn by loyalties. She liked Mallory and Mallory needed minding because of the demons and the booze. She could not leave her father in Capital City in an increasingly dangerous and unstable town. At the same time saving the country and Second Life was also important too. She didn’t know what to do.

Sindy looked at Witney and said, “Witney take the message to Punky, its time to think of what’s best for everyone. You cannot protect your Dad and you cannot protect the city or second life. Punky needs something from Muffin. You have no choice. You must take the message now.”

Tears began to fill Witneys eyes, but in her best punk rock manner she did not cry.

“Ok,” said Witney. “When do I leave?”

“Nows,” said Muffin. “Nows.”