“We are gathered here to consecrate the joining of this man and this woman in wedlock...”
Suddenly, they were standing in a somber forest glade, huge trees rising around them, a single shaft of light angling down to softly illuminate the chancel area. Fotina saw a television monitor screen, or magic mirror, depending on whether this was science or magic. It showed the groom and bride, with the sunlight brightening her white wedding dress and her tiara of flowers. She realized with a muted shock that she was radiantly beautiful.
“The purpose is to provide for the highest expression and the happiest fulfillment of the love of man and woman for each other.” She had missed some of it in the course of her musing; fortunately she was familiar with it from rehearsal.
With the words “highest expression” the scene changed to a mountain top, above the tree line, with the upper mounds of clouds showing below their elevation. The parishioners were seated on sculptured rocks. A breeze riffled Fotina’s hair and carried away a petal.
“Marriage is not only the most intimate, the most tender, and the most lasting, but also the most important contact into which human beings can enter, because it forms the very basis of our social structure.”
The scene shifted to a busy city street, traffic passing on either side. They were in the median between lanes, perilously close to lumbering trucks. A driver peered out his window as if surprised to see a wedding there. His truck started to drift before he corrected it. There was a nervous squeak from one of the girls as the truck barely missed her—a bit of programmer humor.
“They who have a sense of social responsibility will neither lightly enter marriage nor lightly renounce it. They will assume it only as a great responsibility.”
And Fotina did. She regarded this as the foremost event of her life. The game, the prize money, the ceremony itself, the special effects—all faded into the background of her attention as she focused on the reality of the commitment she was making. She would never terminate it.
“We are here to give it recognition, and to wish these two success and joy in maintaining it as they live and work together.”
The giant pillars of Stone Henge formed around them, perhaps symbolizing the eternal nature of their bond. The parishioners glanced around, some nervously, as if fearing a huge stone would fall on them.
“Such a ceremony as we are here to perform, does not guarantee the success or the permanency of this relationship. A consecration of each to the other in the bonds of mutual love alone can accomplish that.” It was a fair warning, but Fotina was not concerned; she fully intended to see it through.
The stones gave way to wood. They were cradled in the spreading branches of huge trees, with thick foliage above and the ground far below. Now the parishioners were really nervous, though they knew that none of it was real. Even so, Fotina thought, many aspects of their marriage might seem daunting, especially the onset of Pedro’s blindness, but they would trust their love and see it through.
“You yourselves must make it permanent.” Fire formed amidst the branches, engulfing them. Several parishioners were truly alarmed, and Fotina’s little sisters screamed. Nola shushed them, and things settled down. There was, after all, no actual heat in the fire, despite roiling clouds of smoke. Maybe some of the challenges of their life together would be like this, more smoke than fire, and they would handle them.
“You must show that in this, as in every relationship of life, genuine and abiding happiness depends upon the willingness to give as to receive, to modify individual desires for the good of each other, to blend insofar as possible your hopes and ideals.”
Now they were on the deck of a yacht at sea, the parishioners seated on deck chairs. It was idyllic. A storm threatened off the bough. At this point, even the Pastor seemed a trifle out of sorts, not to mention the parishioners. There was a pause as all of them watched the charging storm clouds.
The wind whipped the surface of the sea into frothy wavelets, then into larger waves. Finally a huge one, taller than the ship, surged forth and broke over the bough, drenching them all. There were more screams, until people realized that there was no wind or water there; they were dry and level despite the seeming pitching of the craft. Pedro took Fotina’s hand and squeezed reassuringly, and she took confidence from that. He knew that this was all sound and fury, signifying nothing much.
The Pastor smiled. “Even so, can faith prevail over seeming disaster,” he ad-libbed. There was a muted laugh.
The storm faded. In its place appeared an alien landscape, with green-trunked trees replete with brown foliage, a curvaceous city resembling nothing so much as a plate of spaghetti, and low-hanging blue and pink clouds. A few aliens came to gawk at the wedding party with purple eyeballs on the end of long stalks. They had evidently never seen anything this strange before.
“True marriage means a consecration of each to the other and of both to the noblest ends of life.”
Fotina tried to focus on the words instead of the alien realm. They were coming to the essence.
“In this spirit, I now ask you, Pedro and Fotina: Are you both determined to live, so far as in your power shall lie, this ideal of true marriage?”
The scene became a nudist colony. All the parishioners, and all the active participants, were abruptly bare. Fotina’s sisters giggled hysterically. Fotina could not help glancing at her mother, afraid how she would be taking this, but saw to her surprise that the woman was nude in the best way: her avatar figure was that of a splendidly well preserved middle aged woman, no shame at all. She even inhaled, almost enjoying it. Fotina’s father was similarly fit. Possibly they would arrange an amorous rendezvous before departing the game.
The wedding couple stood there, bemused.
Kemo learned forward and murmured in Pedro’s ear. Flora did the same with Fotina. “Answer 'I am,'” she said.
Oh. “I am,” Pedro and Fotina said together.
The setting became a lovely exotic garden, with rare and spectacular plants and flowers all around. All participants were appropriately clothed again. There was some relief, and perhaps some disappointment, as all the avatar bodies were excellent ones.
“Do you cheerfully undertake the duties that come from the uniting of two lives and the setting up of a home in the midst of society?”
This time they were on cue. “I do.”
“In sickness as well as in health, in poverty as well as plenty, in dark hours as well as in days of prosperity, will you cleave to each other, and by your mutual faithfulness, lighten the common sorrow as well as share the common joy?”
“I will.”
“What pledge do you offer that you will fulfill these affirmations?”
Fotina drew a blank. It had surely been in the rehearsal, but right now she had no idea how to answer.
Pedro, prompted by the Best Man, had the answer: “With these rings.”
“Do you on your parts accept these rings as tokens of the same?”
“I do.”
“Pedro, you will place this ring on the third finger of Fotina’s left hand and repeat after me as you do so: 'With this ring I thee wed, and pledge to thee my love, my honor, and my integrity.'”
Fotina stood still as Pedro did so. Then it was her turn, in the double ring ceremony. She managed to place the ring without dropping it, and to repeat the words of commitment without stumbling more than once or twice. Part of her problem was that she was trying, without great success, to not be overcome by tears of happiness.
The original church setting reappeared around them. That was a relief.
“You will now join your right hands.”
They crossed their hands over to join.
“In compliance with the requirements of the civil law, by virtue of the love which you bear each other, and in accordance with your mutual desires, we now publicly recognize the union which exists between you. Therefore, you are now, and will hereafter be regarded by all people, husband and wife.”
Fotina gazed
at Pedro, but could hardly see him through her tears.
“May you be comfort and joy, counsel and strength to each other, through the chances and changes of life.” The Pastor paused a moment. “Now, may God, who is the Eternal Spirit of Love, be and abide with you. Amen.” He paused again. “You will seal your vows with a kiss.”
They kissed. It was a timeless moment, more profound and moving than all the sex they had had in the prior weeks.
There was a sound, starting like the faint roar of distant ocean surf, then increasing to almost deafening volume. They broke their kiss, perplexed.
There was a video monitor set in the wall beyond the chancel. It showed in bold figures, the current viewership: 120 million, with the flashing banner RECORD. The sound was the mass applause of the wider video audience.
Fotina had thought she would be able to handle the publicity. She was mistaken. She fainted.
Fortunately, friends and family were close. In due course she was back on her feet, bidding tearful farewell to her friends in the game, then to her family. It was all sort of giddy.
Then they were on their way to Honeymoon Isle, holding hands most of the way. This time their stay would be legitimate, because they were newly married. There were even loud strings of tin cans tied to the rear bumper of their taxi to the airport.
On the two-hour evening flight they heard something on the television sets of other passengers. It sounded suspiciously familiar. Fotina turned on their set.
It was the end-of-game party, with all the players and guests participating. The settings were those of the wedding, cycling through: Church, Heaven, Forest Glade, Mountain Top, City Street, Stone Henge, Tree Branches, Forest Fire, Seagoing Yacht, Sea Tempest, Alien Landscape, Nudist Colony, Exotic Garden, and back to Church before recycling. But now there was no wedding, just the mingling party.
The participants were enjoying an outdoor buffet that traveled with them. As they had learned, it was possible to eat in avatar form, and to have natural functions, though all were ultimately illusory. Pedro’s parents were associating with Fotina’s parents, still getting used to the wonders of the game settings and avatar forms. They noted players pairing off and seeking semi-private spots for trysts. They discussed it. Fotina knew, because she zeroed in on her folks and overheard their dialogue, exactly the way the regular viewers had done for individual players during the game proper.
Trysts? What about her little sisters? Fotina used the locater feature to find them, and was relieved. The two girls, along with their brother, were enjoying a separate diversion, a fabulous amusement park, with fantastic rides, slides, water sports, clown shows, and a wild fun house. They were supervised by the Game Proprietor Ero and Manager Roma, who obligingly summoned any diversion they wanted.
And while the children were screaming with delight as they rode the mile-high roller coaster that actually passed through several clouds, Ero and Roma quietly sneaked in a covert kiss. Ooo, naughty!
Fotina returned to the four parents.
“I admit to being curious,” Pedro’s father said. “I wonder—” He glanced significantly at his wife.
“I am curious too,” she confessed, blushing. “These animated bodies are remarkable.”
“If you will excuse us a moment,” Pedro’s father murmured apologetically. The two of them went off together.
“It isn’t as if we’re not married,” Fotina’s father said persuasively.
“Maybe once,” Fotina’s mother agreed somewhat grimly. “So you can get it off your mind.”
They adjourned to a nook behind a Stone Henge pillar, which became a seemingly private bedroom. The game authorities had evidently anticipated such reactions.
The two stepped out of their clothing and crawled onto the bed. He got a magnificent erection. She took hold of it and displayed it like a trophy, then touched her lips to it. All her public reservations faded away in private.
“Mother! Father!” Fotina exclaimed, shocked.
They paid Fotina no attention, of course. Soon he was thrusting vigorously into her. Then they discovered the mutual avatar orgasm.
Fotina shut off the set, horribly embarrassed. Pedro made no comment. She knew she was being foolish. She herself had been performing public sex all along, and there would be more to come. How could she begrudge the same joy to her parents? As they had said, they were married.
Fotina focused on enjoying the trip with Pedro. They had a honeymoon to enjoy together, after all.
Yet, it wasn’t quite the same. They had been anonymous before, but that was impossible this time. A hundred and twenty million people had seen them get married, and hackers had already ferreted out their IRL identities. However, the other honeymooners on the island were discreet, well understanding the need for a semblance of privacy.
That is, until they reached their suite. Cameras were not in evidence, but they knew they were everywhere, having been carefully embedded. There was even a TV monitor set up, showing the two of them as they entered the honeymoon suite.
“We can turn off the lights,” Pedro suggested. “Of course, they’ll have infrared cameras too, so they’ll see us anyway, but we can make it more of a challenge.”
“No.”
“Or we can do it under the sheets.”
“No. We’ll do it out in the open, with all the lights on.”
“Fotina, with a hundred million voyeurs watching?”
“I don’t care about them. I just care about you.”
“And I about you. But—.”
“In time, you will be blind. Then you won’t be able to see me. I’m going to make sure you learn touch typing, and maybe Braille, so you will be able to remain in touch with the world. I am going to take care of you, Pedro, in health and in sickness. And part of that is to give you a store of images you will be able to keep and remember when you can no longer get new ones.” She threw off her clothing and stood on the bed, lifting her arms and turning slowly around. “Look at me, Pedro! Everything I have is yours. I want you to get your biggest eyeful. I don’t care if a hundred million others get it too; you are the one who counts.”
He shook his head in wonder. “I love you, Fotina.”
“Well, I should hope so! Now grab me and ravish me!”
“I will never do that.”
“What, losing your interest already? You won’t get away with that.” She jumped off the bed and tackled him, tearing off his clothing. She wrestled him around to lie naked on his back on the bed, his erection stiff. She mounted him, fitting his member to her vagina, but not putting it in far. She let it enter only an inch or so, teasingly, making sure everything showed for the cameras. “Say the words, you slacker.”
“I love you.”
She lowered herself half an inch. “I don’t think I heard you. What did you say?”
“I love you.”
She dropped another half inch and put her hand to her ear. “What?”
“I LOVE YOU!” he shouted.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” She dropped the rest of the way down, stretched out on him, and kissed him madly as he detonated inside her. She did not get the automatic game orgasm with the deep penetration, but she was hardly concerned; there would be plenty of time to achieve hers the old fashioned way.
The monitor faithfully showed every detail. Fotina sneaked peaks at it every so often to verify how it looked to others. It looked pretty good. She was almost disappointed that there was no translucent body image to show his penis achieving operative depth and spurting inside her. Living flesh was not as versatile, in that respect, as avatar flesh. Maybe she would suggest to the proprietors that they arrange video enhancements to simulate that; it would surely add to the effect.
The following days were similar. They reveled in their honeymoon, and had sex frequently and not just in the bedroom.
At the end of the first week the monitor brought news of a survey: it showed a picture of Fotina, with the caption: WOULD YOU MARRY THIS WOMAN IF YOU COULD? Aft
er a moment it ran the answer. FORTY NINE MILLION MEN SAID YES.
“Forty nine million!” Pedro said, amazed.
“And to think I had to browbeat you into doing it,” Fotina said severely. She looked at the monitor. “How many men were surveyed?”
It answered her immediately. FIFTY TWO MILLION.
Fotina frowned. “Three million said no? What’s the matter with them?”
Pedro spanked her bare bottom. Then they went at it again, while applause sounded on the monitor. Public love was wonderful.
Author’s Note
It started, really, when I was revamping my five novel Cluster series, in order to get these thirty year old science fiction novels into electronic format for possible republication. They were written just before I made my fame as a fantasy bestseller, so had been largely relegated to obscurity. I felt this was an undeserved fate, as they represent some of my best work. But they used many symbols for indicating alien dialogue that the scanner couldn’t handle, so I had to do them the hard way: retyping them. It takes time to retype and proofread hundred thousand word novels, so I allowed two months apiece, or ten months for the five. I started in, and ran on schedule for the first two, completing them within four months.
Until a reader with better equipment than mine volunteered to scan them in for me. She did, and that enabled me to put the last three novels in order simply by proofreading the files. That saved me, by my estimate, four to five months of working time. What could I do with this windfall? Well, I’m a writer. So I wrote. I have an Idea file where I store summaries of story and novel ideas so that they won’t be lost while I’m working on something else. Many of these ideas are erotic, not just because I’m a dirty old man. That is, I’m 75 and I still like sex. It is because I orient on the existing market, and there has come to be a considerable market for erotic romance. Where? Mainly in electronic publishing.