Кара Хантер: In the Dark

Fuck no way. Last thing we need. Just keep shtum right?

Did u recog the girl?

No never seen her b4

Well then so just shut the fuck up OK?

***

‘Bill Harper? Now that is a blast from the past.’

Russell Todd is the fourth former colleague of Harper’s that Gislingham’s called, and the results so far have been dead, dead, and forgetful, in that order. But Todd is not just alive and well, he’s talkative too.

‘So you remember him then?’ says Gislingham, trying not to get his hopes up.

‘Oh yes. Knew him quite well for a while, but it’s some years ago now. Why do you ask?’

‘What can you tell me about him?’

There’s a long exhalation at the other end. ‘We-e-ll,’ says Todd, ‘wasn’t exactly top notch. Academically, I mean. Not that he thought that himself, of course. In fact he probably considered ending up at Brum was decidedly infra dig, but his wife came from somewhere round there so that may have decided it. Buying that house in Oxford always struck me as classic denial. But he was solid enough. Knew his stuff. In fact, he did write one article that caused quite a stir –’

‘Is this the role-playing thing?’

‘Ah, you know about that, do you? Between you and me, it was a bit of a case of “right place at the right time”. I mean, the thinking was nothing very original, but Bill hit on the idea of applying it to internet games. Or whatever those things are called. This was back in 1997, so the web was really only just getting going. All of a sudden he was quite the thing.’

Todd’s tone has become increasingly waspish, and Gislingham detects a distinct whiff of peer envy. These academics, always stabbing each other in the back. He wonders in passing how many people would ever have considered Todd ‘top notch’.

‘Anyway,’ continues Todd, ‘after toiling in the dustier foothills of academe for the best part of thirty years, dear old Bill suddenly finds himself being courted by the likes of Stanford and MIT. There was even a rumour of Harvard.’

‘So what happened?’

Todd laughs, not very pleasantly. He’s starting to get up Gislingham’s nose. ‘It was positively Shakespearean. The hero brought low at the very moment of his triumph. The house was up for sale, the bags all but packed, and suddenly – bang . It all comes crashing down around his ears. Or perhaps another part of his anatomy would be a more apt metaphor. In the circumstances.’

‘I can guess,’ says Gislingham.

Todd is clearly amused. ‘Yes, I’m afraid Bill got caught with his pecker in the honeypot. It was all hushed up, of course, but you couldn’t see the Americans for dust. Married man meddling with the students goes down very badly over there. Rather prudish about such things, the Yanks.’

‘Have you kept in touch with him since?’

‘Can’t say I have. I did hear his wife had died. Breast cancer, I think. I don’t know if he worked again. She had some money, the wife, so he may not have needed to.’

‘And was that the only time? I mean, did he have a reputation for harassing his students?’

‘Oh no, that was the thing – it was quite out of character. The irony was that if the authorities had wanted to make an example of someone there were several far more flagrant dragueurs they could have picked on – on both sides of the house. It wasn’t like it is now with lawsuits at the drop of your trousers.’

The good old days of harass at will; Gislingham mouths ‘wanker’ at the phone.

‘If anything,’ continues Todd, ‘Bill was on the strait-laced side of straight. If you take my meaning. It just goes to show you never can tell.’

‘No,’ says Gislingham through gritted teeth. ‘You can’t.’

***

American Journal of Social and Cognitive Sciences

Volume 12, number 3, Fall 1998

Dungeons and Damsels:

Role-Playing Games on the World-Wide Web

William M. Harper, PhD,

University of Birmingham

Abstract

This article looks at the potential for multi-participant role-playing games (RPGs) on the electronic telecommunications network known as the World-Wide Web. While very few enthusiasts yet have access to this technology, the capability exists to allow multiple players to interact in real time via computer terminals, across geographies and time zones. The article explores the cognitive and psycho-social implications of this ‘remote gaming’, including issues such as the impact of anonymous computer ‘personae’ on trust among players, and the effect on their decision-making processes. It also examines the possible neurological consequences of prolonged exposure to a violent ‘virtual’ world, including the erosion of empathy, an increase in interpersonal aggression, and the illusion of personal omnipotence.

***

It’s shortly after 4.00 p.m., and Everett is standing with one of the nurses, looking through a glass partition at the boy. The blinds in the room are down and he’s sitting alone in a playpen in the middle of the floor, staring at a pile of toys. Bricks, an aeroplane, a red and green train. Every now and then he reaches out and touches one of them. His dark hair hangs in curls, like a girl’s. There’s a woman sitting in the room with him, but she’s chosen the chair in the furthest corner.

‘He still won’t let anyone near him?’

The woman shakes her head. There’s a badge on her uniform that says STAFF NURSE JENNY KINGSLEY. ‘Poor lamb. The doctor checked him over and we’ve done some tests but we’re keeping it to the minimum for the moment. We don’t want to distress him any more than absolutely necessary. Especially after his mother reacted the way she did.’

She sees the question in Everett’s eyes. ‘We took him to her after we’d cleaned him up, but as soon as she saw him she started screaming. And I mean really screaming. And then the boy went completely rigid and he was screaming too. They had to sedate her in the end. That’s why we brought him back down here. That sort of stress – it’s not going to do either of them any good.’

‘Has he said anything?’

‘No. We’re not even sure if he can speak. The environment he was in – what he must have witnessed – it wouldn’t be that surprising if his development had been affected.’

Everett turns again to the window. The boy looks up and, for a few brief seconds, the two of them are gazing at each other. He has dark eyes, a slight flush to his cheeks. Then he turns his back and curls up against the side of the playpen, putting his arm over his face.

‘He’s been doing that a lot,’ says the nurse. ‘Could just be that he’s adjusting to the light, but his eyes might have been damaged from being in the dark for so long. It’s better to be safe than sorry. That’s why we’ve drawn the blinds.’

Everett watches a moment. ‘You just want to give him a cuddle and make it all go away.’

Jenny Kingsley sighs. ‘I know. It’s enough to break your heart.’

***

We have the first case meeting at 5.00 p.m. When I get to the incident room the team is gathering and Quinn is pinning up what little we have. A picture of the house, a photo of the girl, a street map. Something that basic would normally be Gis’s job, but I suspect Quinn wants to be seen doing something useful.

‘Right, everyone,’ he begins, ‘Everett’s still at the John Rad waiting to speak to the girl, but we’ve no idea how long that’s going to take.’

‘So we’re going on the basis that the kid is Harper’s?’ asks one of the DCs at the back.

‘Yes,’ says Quinn. ‘That’s the working assumption.’