Head Trip Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  What would you do if you could go anywhere, do anything?

  Chicago 2039: Head Trip, a virtual travel service, promises exactly that to anyone willing to pay for it. Shelby Hutchinson, a young computer professional, loves the idea and can’t wait to take a trip. She turns to her favorite video game for inspiration and travels to Berlin in 1985. With the assistance of a memorable Soviet agent named Tasha, Shelby learns that chasing spies through Cold War Europe might be a great adventure, but nothing is ever as easy as it seems. When her virtual trip takes an unexpected and dangerous turn, Shelby returns to everyday life, but finds that even that has been changed by her experience.

  The biggest change comes in the form of a magazine reporter named Trish, who bears more than a slight resemblance to someone Shelby met once before. Together, they discover that Head Trip is hiding a secret, and when that secret turns deadly, will Shelby do whatever it takes to make everything right again? Will she risk everything and take one more Head Trip?

  Head Trip

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  By the Author

  On Dangerous Ground

  Head Trip

  Head Trip

  © 2010 By D.L. Line. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-486-7E

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: November 2010

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  Acknowledgments

  To my mom and dad, for always being supportive, especially in letting me take care of you.

  To my brother, Tom, just for being an awesome guy. Thanks for your hard work and all of your attempts to help me get my work out into the world.

  To Christina, for everything. And everything else. I just don’t know where to start sometimes.

  To Emma, Matthew, and Adam, for thinking that this writing thing makes me cool beyond cool. I can always use the help.

  To my friends in Virginia and Ohio and wherever else we might find one another. My life is complicated, but your assistance and camaraderie make things so much better. If I start naming names, I’m sure to miss someone, so suffice it to say, you all know who you are.

  To my friend, Deb Serrins, for planting the idea for this story in my head and then offering me the chance to run with it. I hope you’re pleased with the final product. I could gush about you for hours, but I think we’d better just skip it.

  Finally, to the peeps at Bold Strokes Books, especially Cindy Cresap and her skilled editorial hand. Also, to Stacia Seaman for her excellent proofing and Sheri Halal for the cool cover art. Thanks a bunch!

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to Christina.

  It couldn’t have happened without you, but you know this better than anyone. Thank you.

  Chapter One

  “Shelby. Earth to Shelby Hutchinson.”

  Shelby had been daydreaming again, staring at eight years’ worth of perfect attendance plaques on her office wall.

  “What, Jake? Did you need something?”

  “Yeah, it’s five o’clock. Time to go.” Jake looked impatient while he checked his watch and hiked his computer bag on his shoulder. “Don’t forget that the hospital said they weren’t going to pay you any more overtime, even if you are the Information Director.”

  Through the fog of her own fatigue, Shelby remembered that. “Right.” She rubbed at her eyes, sore from another in a long string of days staring at her computer screen. “Did you take care of the immunization database for Employee Health?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Billing? Did you manage to get them back into Patient History?”

  “Yes, Shelby, I did. I even reminded them to make sure the system was plugged in, just like you told me to.” Jake checked his watch again. “We need to go. C’mon. We’ve got to get moving. The train is always backed up this time of day.” She must have looked confused, so Jake filled in. “Remember we’re going to raid that Soviet munitions dump at nineteen hundred.”

  The game. “Oh, shit. That’s right.” Shelby jumped out of her chair and began to pack up her own computer bag. “You know, Jake, I’m beginning to think it’s a huge problem that I can barely drag my ass through a normal eight-hour day, but as soon as you mention video game adventures and digital munitions dumps, I—”

  “Yeah, I get that, but we can talk later. Besides, I had something important I wanted to discuss.” He checked his watch for a third time and even pointed at it for emphasis. “Time to go. Badass commies await.” He held the door while Shelby shrugged into her long wool coat, but she could tell he had another question.

  “Is there something else, Jake?”

  “Well, yeah. Did you remember to call that new gal, you know the one from Human Resources?”

  “Oh, shit,” Shelby muttered softly, “Jake, she’s nice, but…”

  “But what, Shel?”

  She looked away, hesitant to make eye contact. “Well, we kind of were supposed to have a date, but I pretty much bailed on her.”

  “Shel…” She could hear the exasperation in his voice. “You have to do something besides work, you know?”

  “Why, Jake? What difference does it make?”

  “Why is because you never take a break. You look tired. You haven’t taken a vacation in the four years I’ve been here. You beg off dates, you blow me off if I try to set up something after work, unless, of course, it’s any opportunity to goof around with your PlayStation Thirty-three—”

  “You know it’s a PS9, and the technology is amazing. Consider it research for work.”

  “I’ll consider it research only if you convince me you’ve found a way to travel back in time. You know shooting Russian spies went out when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989. That was sixty years ago. I think you need to stop living in the past, and quite frankly, you need to get laid.”

  Jake was right, but now was hardly the time for that kind of discussion. “Jake, old buddy, I think you can probably find something more interesting to worry about than my sex life. At least I hope you can.”

  “Well, I do have something else for you, but it can wait until after gaming tonight.”

  “Okey dokey.” As much as she ha
ted to admit it, Jake was right, especially about the getting laid part, but she wasn’t particularly interested in a casual relationship, and her own unwillingness to step out of her firmly established comfort zone ruled out everything else. It would happen when it did, and until then…well, until then there were plenty of Russian spies to shoot at on her PlayStation. That was good enough for now.

  Shelby nearly tripped as she stepped out of the warm comfort of Northwestern Memorial Hospital and onto the street, pulling her woolly green scarf tighter around her neck against the stiff breeze that seemed to blow in constantly from Lake Michigan. As she pulled her coat closer around her, she began to question the wisdom of her latest short haircut, especially considering the cold reality of Chicago in January. She missed the long hair around the back of her neck, but the scarf did offer some protection.

  “Should have worn your hat, doofus,” Shelby mused quietly as she ran her gloved fingers through her hair.

  “Did you forget it again?”

  Shelby didn’t even realize she had been talking loudly enough for Jake to hear. “Yeah, I did. No worries.”

  Habit carried Shelby down the street and up the steps to the train platform, Jake trailing behind just as they did every Wednesday night. She frowned when she thought the little details of her life had become mundane enough that Jake even noticed she’d forgotten her hat again. As the train doors closed behind her, she grabbed the back of her coat to prevent it being caught in the door and closed her eyes against the claustrophobia that threatened to drown her amongst the tight throng of afternoon commuters. She hated the train this time of day.

  *

  Shelby tossed her game controller onto the coffee table and yanked off her headset, disgusted by the failure of her team to take the Soviet munitions dump. Actually, it was failure number four of the evening, but who was counting?

  “No worries, Shel. We’ll take a break and get it the next time.” Jake got up from Shelby’s tattered recliner and headed toward the refrigerator.

  “Yeah, probably,” Shelby said. Jake always liked to look at the bright side of things, a fact that made him a great friend but somewhat annoying at the same time. “Thanks.” She accepted the frosty bottle Jake had brought from the kitchen. Shelby thought for a moment about declining another drink, but she was already two beers in, and the dark, foamy Guinness was beginning to work its magic on her resolve to make tonight an early evening.

  “So, Jake, this morning you said you had something you wanted to talk about. What’s up?”

  “This.” Jake fished around the pockets of his corduroy pants, finally managing to produce a rather wrinkled brochure. “I think you need to look at this.”

  She took the paper from his hands, debating whether she should be scared more because it was something Jake had come up with or because it was an old-style brochure printed on shiny paper. In this day of advanced technology and supercomputers, Shelby thought things like this had gone the way of the brontosaurus, but here it was. How quaint.

  “What the hell, Jake? Head Trip Travel Services? Trendy high-tech vacations for the über-affluent?” She snorted with disgust and tossed the brochure on the coffee table.

  “And also, my friend, the answer to your vacation woes.”

  “Oh no. Are you nuts? I can’t take a vacation now. The new system is coming in next week, and we still have the end-of-year stuff to do with Accounting. No, Jake, I can’t.”

  “But, Shel…here. Just look at it. It says you can take a vacation, but they’ve updated the technology so you can go anywhere without ever leaving the comfort of their office downtown.”

  As she tentatively opened the folded paper, Shelby wrinkled her nose, unsure of what Jake wanted her to see. “What do you mean?”

  “Okay, here’s the way I understand it. You go to this place and they do some kind of digital mapping of your brain. Then, based on those results and the other stuff you tell them you want, they make the vacation happen in your head. It’s like that thing you did last year when you went to the IS conference in Paris. You remember how you went to that language place and they just imprinted the ability to speak French in your head. That was cool.”

  “Yeah, that was very cool. It was like a memory, something that I always knew.”

  “Right,” Jake said, “and you don’t need to take a whole week off work to get a seven-day vacation. That’s the best part. They just strap you in, give you a pill or a shot or something, and you get to spend seven glorious days on a sunny beach full of semi-naked women, but it only takes a couple of hours in real time.”

  She thought for a moment while she turned the brochure over to look at the back of it. “That sounds okay. But how much…oh, Jesus, Jake. This is expensive.”

  “Oh, come on, Shel. I know you have the money. Look around your apartment. You live like a college student, despite the fact you have a six-figure income. Every stick of furniture in here is other people’s used shit from Craigslist. You never go anywhere, so I’d be willing to bet you’ve probably squirreled away every dime you’ve ever made.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  “You suppose I’m right?” Jake looked incredulous. “You know I’m right, and you know you need the break. This way you can have all the fun and adventure you want, and you can do it Saturday afternoon. Then, when the new servers come in next week, you’ll be all rested and refreshed, and I hope, happily laid.”

  “I don’t know…” Shelby continued to stare at the brochure.

  “Wait, here’s the best part. You’re not limited to locations or time frame. If you want to take a vacation and go shoot Russian spies in 1985, you can do that too.”

  “Russian spies in 1985? Just like on my PlayStation?” Shelby was interested now. “I could do that. Might be fun.”

  “See, there you go. Besides, I’m sure you could use a change of pace. You always do the right thing, you’re reliable as hell, and a week off to be totally irresponsible in the safety of an office in downtown Chicago sounds exactly like something you need.”

  “Reliable.” Shelby picked at the label of her beer. She had always been reliable. Good old reliable Shelby Hutchinson. Always did the right thing for everyone else. Maybe Jake was right about this.

  “Okay. I’ll check it out, but no promises.”

  Jake smiled the smile of temporary victory.

  “I’ll research this online when we’re done here. I need to make sure it’s safe and all that.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.”

  “Right, because I’m reliable.”

  “Well, yeah, but I didn’t mean that’s a bad thing.”

  “No, of course you didn’t.” Despite her vocalized agreement, Shelby didn’t like that the first thing anyone seemed to think about her was that she was reliable. In her mind, reliable equaled boring, and she didn’t want to think of herself as boring. Besides, Russian spies in 1985? That sounded like fun.

  *

  Several hours later, Shelby was still staring at the computer screen. The Head Trip Web site taunted her, offering her the opportunity to go anywhere, do anything, and best of all, be anything she wanted.

  Despite the fact it was late and she needed to be at work early, Shelby couldn’t turn off the computer. Once intrigued, she stayed intrigued, and it only got worse when she began to understand the process. The first step was a short visit to the office for something the company called “digital mapping,” a procedure in which they would run her through a series of simulations to gauge her reaction, testing her likes and dislikes. The Web site explained she would be introduced to a number of situations to determine what kind of situation she was attracted to and, as the scenario unfolded, the computer would create Shelby’s ideal match based only upon her reactions. If her eyes were drawn to a beautiful brunette, the blondes in the room would fade out. If she preferred her women to have blue eyes, the others would fade as well. This would continue until the computer had enough details to create exactly what She
lby wanted to see and interact with. The process would do the same for everything Shelby wanted in her trip, from the kind of car she wanted to drive to the weather she would experience on the trip. The coolest part was that the vacation didn’t actually happen in real time, as they did on the holodeck from the old episodes of Star Trek Shelby loved so much. It was more like an implanted memory, except Shelby didn’t need to take the vacation in order to have the memory. Head Trip just made it happen. Presto!

  Shelby figured she should probably do some of her own research as well. She knew all about 1985 as it was presented in her favorite video game, but a better knowledge of the styles and trends of the time might make the trip more fun. She didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb by wearing the wrong kind of shoes or some weird floppy hat if no one else did. She wanted to be an adventurer, not a spaz. She could do that anytime.

  Maybe she could do the digital mapping thing tomorrow on her lunch hour. It was expensive, but Jake had been right about the years of income she had managed to squirrel away. She could definitely afford it, and maybe she owed it to him and the rest of her coworkers to take a real break. She was tired, and she was sure it was beginning to show in the quality of her work. She was not thrilled with the idea of stripping down to her birthday suit for a full body scan, but that was the only way the computer could get authentic, down-to-the-last-freckle kind of detail that would make the experience as lifelike as possible.

  “Well, no guts, no glory,” she muttered into the air of her sparsely furnished apartment. It only took one touch of a key on her computer to open the digital video link to the company. Smiling nervously, she waited until a young man with blond hair that stood straight up answered her call.