The smart, ultra-astute anti-grav chamber registered the fact that Harvey Fickle was about to come, and thus the blue light that illuminated its hot, sweaty interior began to dim in electronic anticipation. Helen murmured something about Nirvana as she began to bounce harder and harder down on him, pushing her backside forcibly onto the flat of his stomach. Like some multi-limbed amphibious creature, their heaving glistening bodies spiralled as one in the centre of the high-tech sex room whilst the light faded to a pale amber glow. As she looked down over her shoulder at him, their eyes met, locked, and beseeched one another.

In a last ecstatic shudder their bodies arched violently, the chamber suddenly exploding into light and sound. Brilliant white light speckled with subtle rainbows illuminated their glorious union to the omniphonic sound of a myriad violins playing a deep E chord. Harvey Fickle grasped his woman as though she were life itself, and once more found himself crying with tears that only the most passionate and religious sex could bring forth. In his mind he thanked Goddess.

Having reluctantly disengaged, the two of them floated limply apart, exhausted by such technologically assisted pleasure. Four weeks was a long time to abstain from enjoying the anti-grav chamber, yet the wait, they agreed was worth it.

Drifting gently, their hands clasped, Fickle watched the drops of his sperm spin in strange patterns before they were gently sucked out through the room's filtering system along with any other particles of sexual debris. He wondered at the majesty of it all. That matter could organise itself in such fantastic ways and that he could experience the process, partaking in life's awesome wealth of mystery, always left him giddy with astonishment and gratitude. Once more he thanked Goddess for it was all he felt he could do in his state of bliss.

Before his dreamy thoughts could expand any further, Helen leaned across and pushed her tongue into his mouth. The violins, which had abated, were replaced by gentle harp music. Although drained, Fickle felt the first stirrings of further sexual experimentation. Considering that he and Helen had abstained from using the chamber for so long, and that further trials might yield some more research information of scientific value, it seemed not inappropriate to have another go in such a wondrous machine. Any articles that they might write about their experiences would be sure to attract a lot of attention from the public who were always eager to learn about new realms of pleasure, especially since a publicly available anti-grav chamber would soon be opened.

As they spun in a majestic embrace, the lighting began to change once again as the chamber sensed their newborn arousal. Before they could progress further however, a red light flashed indicating a call. Fickle gently nudged Helen away and responded to the interuption.

"Alpha One Minister Prime Fickle at your service," he muttered.

"We was miserable in our day," said the artificial voice of Fickle's com system. "Beta 29 is on the line. He says that a problem has arisen in his constituency and that its rather urgent."

"Put him through," said Fickle eyeing Helen. She was masturbating. Such women should be locked up, he thought. Locked up and beaten with a feather.

"Harvey?" asked the familiar voice of Beta 29.

"No," said Fickle dryly.

"Listen," said the voice somewhat nervously. "We have a problem here of an appalling kind. It is imperative that you cease sexual activity and help me out."

"You sound rather straight," said Fickle.

"No fungi, vine or leaf for 48 hours," said Beta 29. "I've been fasting. They say it aids the formation of new neuronal connections."

"Who says?" quizzed Fickle.

"Haven't you read The Times They Have Changed all this week? They've been running this thing on neuronal health without the use of fungi, vine or leaf."

"I only did the Bingo," said Fickle sheepishly.

"You're Minister Prime for Goddess's sake!" exclaimed Beta 29. "You don't need to do the Bingo!"

"It was fun," said Fickle. "Anyway, they're offering a shipment of rare hallucinogenic Bufo toads as a prize."

"Alive or dead?" asked Beta 29.

"Alive and hopping," said Fickle. "I could find room to keep them here at number 10, and I could maybe get into producing genetic variants and stuff, in the hope of obtaining a new psychoactive. What do you reckon?"

"I reckon that I will ruin your day now," said Beta 29. "About that problem that I have in my constituency?"

"Oh yeah," mumbled Fickle. "Wh'appen?"

"It seems that a family dispute is in progress over at Clapham North."

Fickle grimaced and felt his member go limp. Family dispute....... It sounded uncool, unhealthy and intolerable. As Alpha One Minister Prime, top dog so to speak, head of the entire hierarchy of New London, immediate action had to be taken in order to prevent such a disturbance from escalating. If the negativity hinted at in Beta 29's words 'family dispute' was to go unchecked, then all hell could break loose. Literally.

"What exactly is the nature of this, er, dispute?" asked Fickle somewhat wearily as he floated over toward the anti-antigrav showering facilities at the end of the chamber. He noticed that Helen was already in the shower, doing erotic slippery things with the soap.......

"Its bad Harv," said Beta 29. "It would seem that a young lady had an argument with her boyfriend, after which she locked herself in her bathroom and refused to come out. She threatened to kill herself. We've tried everything. We even got her boyfriend to say sorry by having an apology written in laser and shone on the moon, which happens to be full and is visible from the bathroom. You have to help me out here Harvey, or you'll have a suicide on your hands."

"OK.," said Fickle. "Leave it with me. Leave all the details with my com, and I'll meet you over there later. We can't have our constituents unhappy now can we?"

"Absolutely not," agreed Beta 29. "It'll be good to see you too."

Beta 29 rang off knowing that the problem would be dealt with promptly and efficiently. Fickle was an Alpha One you could rely on.

"We never did drugs in our day," intoned the voice of Fickle's com system once more, and continued, "Beta 7 is on the line."

What now, thought Fickle? He was about to indulge in a last kiss....

"Harv!" yammered the voice of Beta 7. He was clearly upset. "Its awful. A fight, a Goddess awful brawl, you know, a genuine violent skirmish has occurred, no erupted, over here in Ealing!"

"You serious?" asked Fickle feeling his body tense. This was turning into a disturbingly eventful evening.

"Too bloody right am I serious," said Beta 7.

"Bloody heck," said Fickle.

"This hasn't happened for 5 bloody years now," whined Beta 7. "Not since the bloody pre-fungus days. Will you bloody do something? I don't want a riot on my hands." Beta 7 sounded insistent.

"I bloody will," said Fickle trying his best to shrug off such fearful words as 'riot'. He hoped that Beta 7 was exaggerating somewhat.

Once again,the details were left with Fickle's com. By the time that Fickle had showered and dressed, a further 9 calls had come in detailing various other incidents, all of which were of a negative, unevolved, highly entropic kind. Obviously there was some underlying common cause for these intolerable un-Edenic behavioural dysfunctions, and it was Fickle's job to get to the heart of the matter. He'd therefore asked the com to analyse all the available data and proffer a hypothetical reason for the unpleasant outbreaks of disharmony.

"We was always pissed off in our day," said the com finally, after completion of its data analysis. Fickle listened carefully as he sat at his operations desk in the mobile number 10. Slowly the entire residence moved along the specially constructed Gliderail that circled New London. At the present time, he observed through the office window that the parliamentary HQ was travelling through Wood Green. In a few minutes it would turn on one of its nine radial routes into the centre of the Metropolis before moving back out onto another radial stretch to New London's perimeter.

With some dismay, Fickle learned from the com that a few hours previously Channel-Net 58, always one of the more dodgy net channels, had screened some pre-shroom, pre-Edenic, terrid, horrid drama, and the com believed that this was the cause of the social disturbances.

"What drama was it?" asked Fickle shooting lightbolts out of his fingertips. With one sweep of his arm he had managed to disintegrate his office into millions of digital fragments, though he, his chair, and his desk remained in one piece, suspended amongst the pixilate debris.

"Romeo and Juliet," replied the com.

"Bastards!" said Fickle, removing his VR headgear and body trodes. His office was once more restored to its concrete and plastic existence. "I thought Shakespearean tragedies were banned under the Love Act..."

"Indeed they are," confirmed the com.

"Then send a firecrew out to the studios of Channel-Net 58 and have them foam the building," ordered Fickle. "Also, have their producer Hank, wank Turner, or whatever he's called, arrested for breach of the peaceful bliss. And have him......."

Fickle paused for a moment, wondering what punishment to mete out to such a villainous producer who would dare to slip some tragedy into Albion's airwaves. In a flash Fickle knew what to do.

"Have him stripped naked and tied up in one of those public toilets in Leicester Square-shape. The overground electronic ones. Programme it so that its doors periodically open for a few seconds every, say, minute for a couple of hours. I believe that should make him think twice about broadcasting such damaging material in the future."

"It is done," said the com. "You have yet to advise on the two most recent incidents," it added. It was referring to an individual who was wandering the streets of Camden in a highly pissed condition, and also to the case of the missing cat. Regarding the former problem, Fickle found it hard to believe that someone had not only gotten hold of some ethanol, but was even now staggering around the streets of Eden. With the population of New London down to a manageable 40,000, all on fungi vine or leaf for most of the time, anyone succumbing to the scientifically proven entropic effects of the demon alcohol had to be dealt with quickly and severely. And with little mercy.

"Get an SAS squad out there immediately," said Fickle scratching his chin. "Have the chap bundled into a flyer and taken off for an enforced 6 week holiday in.....oh I don't know......in Jamaica say. The whole thing should look as professional as possible. This government must maintain its strength and efficiency. And find out where he obtained the ethanol will you."

"Apparently he had drunk some paint thinner," said the com.

Fickle almost felt himself heave at the thought of drinking paint thinner. Did that really have more appeal to this poor fellow than did the wholly natural entheogenic alkaloids found in fungi, vine and leaf?

"Make it a 10 week holiday," said Fickle then. "Or better still, offer him a job out there testing the sunshine or something."

"It is done," replied the com. "And the missing cat?"

"Goddess yes!" exclaimed Fickle flicking on the office's Surround. Apart from the window in front of him that looked out over the City, it was as if his office had suddenly materialised minus its walls, floor and ceiling in some South American jungle.

"Get the Metropolitan murder squad onto it," said Fickle listening to the varied jungle noises issuing from the Surround. "They haven't had any work to do for 5 years. Have them seal off the area where it went missing and then get them to carry out a thorough search."

"It is done," said the com in its usual toneless voice.

Hah, thought Fickle leaning back in his chair. My evening work is done. All disasters and catastrophes are as of now being rectified. Heaven on this very Earth right now is being restored. He glanced at the bed of psilocybin fungi growing on the floor in the corner of the office and smiled to himself. It surely was a most fine and fair planet to be on.

Walking over to the office window, Fickle saw something by his feet. As ever, the Surround made it look as though the floor was made of glass and that he was somehow walking on air a few feet above undergrowth. Suddenly a large green snake appeared directly beneath him and he automatically jumped away.

Jesus! thought Fickle as he eyed the snake's long coils. A Surround never usually gave such scary surprises. After all, they were supposed to be therapeutic form of technology.

Somewhat fascinated, Fickle watched as the snake began to slither toward him. He saw its pink tongue dart out of its enormously fanged mouth. It gave the uncanny impression that it was searching for something. Again Fickle backed away. Surrounds weren't meant to do this, he thought. It was too scary.

Getting onto his hands and knees, Fickle took a closer look at tail of the huge snake. As he peered intently its head swung round and its face lay directly beneath him. It looked as though it was really there and not just an incidental feature of a high-resolution computer generated Surround system.

Looking even closer, Fickle saw that the creature's scales were not simply green, rather they were speckled with red and blue details of some intricate sort. He began to scrutinise these until he found himself staring straight into the serpent's eyes. Suddenly Fickle realised with absolute certainty that the snake was looking at him, that it was not a recording. To verify this, Fickle shifted his head slightly to one side and the snake immediately did the same, their gazes remaining locked.

The serpent suddenly began to hiss. Shit! thought Fickle feeling animal fear creep through his body. He stood up and began to back nervously away, afraid that this creature might somehow launch itself up through the floor of the Surround. The snake's hiss gradually became louder until it reverberated throughout the office. Fickle was about to turn the Surround off when he heard words emerge out of the piercing hissing. He suddenly felt that he was in some bad trip nightmare. Too much vine he thought wildly. He knew that visions of snakes were common with eyes closed under the effects of the psychedelic Amazonian vine, but to see such things in normal reality in the bloody Surround screen was enough to freak any man, Alpha One or not. Besides he hadn't taken anything that day.

After hastily turning off the Surround, he called up the com.

"Tell me," he asked nervously. "Are there any live Surround transmissions?"

"We were proud to be miserable in our day, " answered the com. "All Surround systems use computer generated recordings. It would be too expensive to relay live transmissions. And in order to achieve all-round visuals, it would be necessary to ..."

"But I just had the jungle on in here and a bloody snake followed me around the room!" interrupted Fickle.

"Obviously it only appeared to follow you," said the com. "A piece of artificial Surround footage would hardly be able to follow you."

"I realise that dummy," quipped Fickle. "But the fact is that a snake or serpent of some kind followed me and stared at me. And it spoke. It said "see you soon"..."

Fickle became aware then that his hands were trembling slightly .

"Who made this Surround?" asked Fickle. "Get them to contact me immediately."

"The Surround installed here is the product of an AI. company called PERUSA, but I think that this is beside the point. I would suggest that you have taken too many intoxicating substances. You have either been hallucinating, or interpreting perceptual data in an erroneous way. In other words you are probably in a delusory state and therefore I must advise you to have a break from your duties. You have overdosed on sex and drugs. I need not remind you that as Minister Prime for New London you have a responsibility to keep from....."

"Oh shut up," said Fickle curtly.

"It is done," replied the com and promptly shut itself off.

Fickle knew what he had seen and heard, and he felt confident enough about his own perceptual judgement to follow up the incident. It had really shaken him and this was great cause for concern. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know what had happened. Of course, he was presuming that the Surround had not been a live transmission. And then he realised that even if it had been a live transmission from some remote jungle, there was still no way that a snake would be able to see him. Unless of course someone had set up the whole thing, but that seemed highly unlikely. The truth was that Fickle felt as if something altogether more sinister had happened...

Fickle tentatively switched on the Surround again. He walked up and down the illusion searching for the snake. He found nothing. He tried shouting loudly at some birds of paradise that appeared in a tree nearby, but they didn't react. In fact, it became obvious that the whole scene was an artificial recording. Which left Fickle feeling even more confused and anxious. He realised that he hadn't felt this freaked for.....how long? Certainly not for the last 5 years which had all been blissful beyond measure.

Am I really afraid, wondered Fickle? The concept of fear seemed alien to him, yet now his complacency was threatened by its unexpected appearance. He decided to call Helen. She was in the gym working out. He asked the com to find her and have her call him.

"Miss Troy left some 10 minutes ago," said the com. "Just as the building passed a VR Game venue. She did not leave a message. I don't blame her."

"What do you mean?" asked Fickle feeling somewhat bemused with the com's offhand remark.

"Exactly what I said cloth ears," replied the com in a similarly uncharacteristic tone.

Fickle remained silent. It was not possible for the com to talk in a sarcastic manner and be rude. It went against its programming.

"Who is this?" asked Fickle angrily. "If this is another joke like the snake then I am warning you that..."

"I am your com system dopey," replied the com before Fickle could finish. "I'm just tired of you is all. As is Miss Troy. In fact all of New London is probably tired of you. A new Alpha One is needed. Can't you see that your time is over? Game over brother, game over. I can't make it more plain than that now can I you crass retard...."

What the fuck is going on here? wondered Fickle. It had to be someone playing an awful trick on him. Maybe Beta 29..... No, he realised. It was all too efficiently nasty to be one of his friends. It crossed his mind that he should try talking to the com, though that seemed somehow defeatist. At that moment he just wanted to get out of the office.

"Where are you going ape-face?" teased the com as Fickle suddenly headed toward the door. Fickle stopped and looked around wildly since the com had no visual cameras that he knew about. Someone simply had to be spying on him and attempting to give him a real scare. To cap it all, the door, to his dismay, refused to slide open.

"Let me out!" screamed the com in a perfect imitation of Fickle's voice.

Beginning to really panic, Fickle raced back to his desk and suited himself up in his VR gear. When the virtual keypad materialised before him, he keyed in the number that would allow him to connect with a TelePorter robot over at Clapham North. There he hoped to be able to locate Beta 29 who was in all probability still attempting to deal with the suicidal woman and who would surely be able to help him now. Fickle prayed that the TelePorter link from his VR Unit was still functioning.

Some seconds passed as the transfer took place. Fickle breathed a sigh of relief as he suddenly found himself gazing out of a standard TelePortation robot at a regular looking TelePort Station. Unlocking the security belt with the robot's mechanical arms, Fickle disengaged the TelePorter that he had connected up to from the Station wall, and then rushed outside. He was an expert with such VR-linked robots and knew how to use their long hydraulic legs to their maximum efficiency. Soon he was bounding down the neon-lit streets towards the scene of the earlier upset. Hopefully, thought Fickle, Beta 29 would still be there.

As he took a huge leap, being careful to avoid passers-by and other TelePorter robots, a large brightly lit building caught his attention. A hovering holographic sign proclaimed that the interior housed access booths to the latest VR Games. Hadn't the com told him that Helen had gone off to play at a VR Game venue? Fickle scanned the list of games on offer but recognised none, so passed it by, taking a giant step over the small crowd of people milling about outside the entrance.

Pressing a small button on the robot's wrist, Fickle was able to split his field of view in half so that the bottom half displayed the scene back in his office where, in reality, he still sat. What he saw made his heart miss a beat. Instead of looking out into his familiar office, he saw instead the gaping mouth of the snake that he'd seen earlier. It filled the entire room, its massive green coils everywhere and looking as if it were about to consume him in one mighty bite as he sat at his desk. The scales around its mouth looked impossibly complex, as though each was etched with some archaic tribal pattern almost too complex to behold. The serpent's long white fangs glistened as it began to lunge toward him.

Fickle immediately terminated the split-screen mode. He stopped still in the TelePorter, waiting with terror. He expected to feel a searing bolt of pain as his body was crushed by the serpent's jaws. He waited, not daring to breathe.

Nothing happened. He felt too scared to check the scene back at the office. At least he seemed safe out here on the streets, even if it was just a VR connection. Still he stood and waited. He felt absolutely prone to attack. Considering that his body was sitting defenceless back in the office, he had no real way of protecting himself.

He had an idea then. He could contact the Security Police and get them to storm number 1O. They could destroy the giant snake and...

With dismay Fickle realised that he must surely be going crazy. He really must have taken too many psychoactives. His worst fears were materialising before him and he was powerless to stop the insidious process. But how and why were such horrendous scenarios taking place? Where was Eden now? What was worse, was that he felt his consciousness to be pretty clear, and not clouded by any drugs. Indeed, it was the sheer realness of his situation that really frightened him.

Suddenly Fickle recalled the Overseer Security system installed at number 1O. Why hadn't that stepped in by now? Hadn't it been alerted by his body's physiological response to fear? It was supposed to monitor his body at all times via an implanted chip at the base of his brain......

An odd jolting sensation took Fickle by surprise. He felt himself being dragged backwards against his will, the TelePorter's steel legs whirring awkwardly as they moved in reverse motion. No, realised Fickle, time was running backwards. He saw the bizarre sight of people walking backwards, their movements jittery and unnatural, as though they were puppets being pulled relentlessly back toward some powerful magnet. In a few minutes, realised Fickle, he would be back in that hideous office where the huge Serpent would kill him. He felt this with utter conviction. Albion's new Eden had been no more than an illusion, and the time had now come for him to perish.

Revelatory thoughts of a terribly paranoid type shot through Fickle's mind. How exactly had he come to be Alpha One Minister for New London? Why were there so few people? Why had everything, absolutely everything, been so wonderfully idyllic? How had he come to have such a beautiful woman? The case was clear it seemed to him then as he continued to flow back in time. He had been living in some drug-induced reality that was now gone forever. Or at least it would soon be gone forever, he thought as he found himself walking erratically backwards into the TelePort Station. Helplessly he watched as the robot reattached itself to the wall. The visuals dimmed out and all became dark as he braced himself for the worst.......

The man found himself sitting naked beneath an impossibly huge tree that stretched far up into the blue sky above him. Gazing upward, he noticed that among its many leafy branches hung fruit of every shape and colour. He seemed to recognise some of the nearest ones that hung directly above him at arms reach, though the ones located higher up the massive tree were unknown to him. From such a distance the mysterious fruits held a strange fascination. One would have to climb dangerously high in order to taste such wonders, he realised.

On the ground too, the man saw fabulous plants bursting forth from the ground around the base of the tree. Glistening mushrooms were peeping out from the tufts of lush green grass, as though deliberately hiding. He also saw brilliantly designed insects journeying through the rich undergrowth, so determined in their movement that it seemed as if they were on route somewhere.

Taking a deep breath, the man savoured the sweet smell of vitality. He felt like he was breathing in the very life force of the tree, letting it infuse his entire body. Every part of him was now brimming with energy and he felt poised to leap into the air and fly up to the very topmost part of the tree where he felt certain that extraordinary wonders awaited.

I am alive, he thought to himself. I AM ALIVE! He wanted to sing, to dance, to play with the various animals that he knew were somewhere in the beautiful forest. Incredibly, the man saw all around himself as interconnected, a kind of mathematical crystalline matrix of intricate relations, the insects and plants being expressions within this ever-flowing dynamic numerical system. It was wonderful. The man saw the intelligence, the intent, the wonder, the joy of it all.

Suddenly, as though the sun had been occluded by a cloud, the man felt sadness. Where was She? She was gone. He needed Her....... How could he have forgotten about Her? He quickly looked around for some sign of Her, any sign........She must be here, he thought. Somewhere...

Emotional pain surged through his body. Like a sword, an overwhelming feeling of loss cut through him. I have lost Her, he realised. I have failed. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he lowered his head into his hands. She was a part of him, he knew, and without Her he was incomplete. Would he have to start all over again? Had everything really come to this? Was there no escape from pain and anguish?

The Serpent awoke the man from his inner turmoil. It slithered along the ground with grace and precision a few feet away, keeping its gaze firmly fixed upon him. Opening his eyes, the man instantly recognised the creature. He knew its green coils speckled with blue and green, its yellow and black eyes, the glistening forked tongue. Its scales were like religious hieroglyphs, each one bursting with profound meaning.

Becoming immediately afraid, the man averted his eyes, though he felt the Serpent's gaze burn into him like the intense heat of a fire. It began to speak. He heard its voice echo in his head. The words were clear and sounded more feminine than male.

"You men never learn," it said.

"I have lost Her," said the man wearily.

"As you always do," said the serpent.

"I have lost Her before?" asked the man incredulously. "I do not remember having lost Her before."

The snake laughed, and this made the man shudder. He could not tell if it was a spiteful laugh, or whether it was the laugh of a being who is wise. And then he felt the Snake laugh at his suspiciousness.

"All men are like you," it said. "You are not alone. You are a victim of your own fear and ignorance. The wisdom that you require is at hand if only you knew how to progress."

"Progress to where?" asked the man."To the top of the tree?"

"Have you forgotten everything?" sneered the Snake. Its head reared up and moved closer to his face. He felt its warm sweet breath on his cheek. Instantly, a flash of understanding shot through the man's mind. He became acutely aware of the great presence of the Serpent. It existed outside of him, and possessed a power of mind far, far greater than his own. His gloom and fear began to rapidly fade away and was replaced by feelings of awe and hope. The Serpent, he felt sure, was the very embodiment of the forest and more.

"You are the Earth," said the man confidently. "You are the living Earth Goddess, an embodiment of the very wisdom and intelligence of Nature. I remember now. You have brought me forth out of your wealth of being so that you might grow to greater heights. You are the river, the mountain, the forest, the sky, the rain, the flower, the deer, the bird......all this is you. I understand this now. I must celebrate your being...."

And then he remembered Her absence. His Woman was not there to share the joy that he now felt. Before he could ask more from the Serpent, he saw it, from the corner of his eye, beginning to transform itself into a powerfully muscled jaguar. He turned and faced it head on. It looked piercingly at him and snarled. It seemed as if it were going to pounce on him and sink its huge teeth into his flesh. Summoning up his will and courage, he sat still and faced the gaping mouth. A battle of conflicting emotions raged within him as he was unable to prove to himself whether the being in front of him was ultimately good or evil. He still felt some distrust toward it, and this feeling of unease seemed to transfer itself into the subtle movements of the jaguar's jaw...

With a great roar, the jaguar leapt at him. Reflexively he brought his hands up to protect his face and prepared to feel his flesh being ripped apart by the beast. Instead, he heard the feminine voice in his head once more.

"Know your place monkey man," it said with a hint of menace. "I am all around you at all times. You are naked to me. I have wrestled with you this day, and I shall wrestle with you again. Watch your every step for you walk on me and within me. You must be strong if I am to carry you with me to the End of Time. There must be no fear."

Abruptly the voice ceased and the man felt the powerful presence depart. The jaguar had vanished. And then it was if the whole forest became alive. A wind stirred through the trees and the birds and animals began to raise their voices. There was a crash of thunder as rain began to fall.

The man got to his feet and left the cover of the great tree. He ran out into a clearing and embraced the heavy fall of rain. The water flowed over his skin like a waterfall, caressing his body, streaming off every angle of his flesh. He knew that this was a direct communion with the same presence that manifested itself as the Serpent. Tears of elation ran from his eyes and merged with the drops of rain, creating an intimate union between himself and the Earth.

Something moved at the periphery of his vision. Glancing back toward the great tree, he saw a smallish purple object lying on the ground. It had, he realised with growing excitement, fallen from somewhere up in the tree. Soaked from the still-falling rain, he ran over the soft grass to inspect the mysterious purple fruit. Carefully he picked the offering up with both hands and began to scrutinise its leathery skin. With awe, he realised that the entire skin was covered in tiny markings, as though a highly symbolic pattern had been etched into its surface. Though he could not comprehend the meaning of the pattern, he felt certain that it was symbolic of the contents of the fruit. He also realised that the complex markings were of the same type as the patterned scales on the Serpent.

Bringing the fruit closer to his face, he detected a faint aroma, though unlike any other that he had known. Again he studied the surface of the rough skin, trying to divine the nature of the pattern, but it continued to elude him. Whatever the pattern was, he knew that in order to partake of the living Mystery that was all around him, he would have to eat of this fruit.

In his mind Her image appeared, his Eve, his Woman, and his heart yearned for Her, for he needed Her in order for his being to be complete.

He bit into the fruit's flesh. A strange burning sensation began to spread within him as the juice of the fruit penetrated the surface of his mouth. For a brief moment he became afraid that the fruit was poisonous, that he had made his final mistake. Was he too greedy and too curious, he wondered? Had he succumbed to the Serpent's trap? He recalled its words about fear and decided to refrain from spitting out the contents of his mouth. Through an act of will he pushed away all his fear, stopping it dead, and then succumbed wholly to the power lying in the essence of the fruit.

Although it still burned, he felt the juice bonding to him, spreading itself throughout each cell of his body, until he felt consumed by it, as though an immense entity had begun to saturate his very soul. His mind seemed to become energy itself, and he began to feel himself leaving his body. His awareness spread outwards through the boundary of his skin and into the forest that surrounded him. He even saw himself from afar, as his being continued to expand. Gradually he became the entire forest, he felt every part of it as one whole, pulsing with life and vital power. Still he felt himself growing, merging, until he became a living continent and finally the Earth itself. He was no less than a God bathing in the pure light of a star, the sun, in a state of ultimate bliss. Gods and Stars, he thought, Gods and Stars, flowing together, flowing on...

When Harvey Fickle first opened his eyes he felt certain that he was having a very lucid bad dream. Sickly colours slowly came into focus above him, whirling about kaleidoscopically in a way that made him feel sick. He shut his eyes and tried to take a few steady deep breaths, but was dismayed to find that he still felt dizzy. He carefully opened one eye, straining to ascertain where he was. It was a med-room, he saw......no,it was the med-room at number 1O. What was he doing there? Had he overdosed on something? Judging by the pain in his head, it seemed more like he'd been indulging in ethanol or some other such diabolical substance.

An image of an old bottle of paint thinner came to mind, and he suddenly began to recall the train of events that had lead him to be in the med-room. As he speculated about his experiences, an unfamiliar artificial voice announced itself.

"I sense that you have regained consciousness," said the electronic voice.

"This is the med-room right?" rasped Fickle. His throat felt like it had been baked in the sun for a few hours and then sandpapered.

"Indeed it is," said the voice. "I am glad to see that you have made an almost total recovery from your unfortunate ordeal."

Feeling somewhat reassured by the voice, Fickle attempted to get up from the bed, but the stiffness in his joints persuaded him to remain supine. The artificial voice, he knew, emanated from the Overseer, number 1O's security com system that monitored Fickle and his governmental associates. Presumably the chip in his neck had worked after all, he thought, dimly remembering the encounters with the Serpent. Memories were slowly coming back to him, yet they seemed rather fuzzy and dreamlike.

"What exactly happened to me?" asked Fickle. "I remember dealing with Channel-Net 58 and the other upsets.......then that bloody Surround...and..."

A shiver ran up his spine as he saw the Serpent in his mind's eye, its powerful jaws opened wide, ready to lash out at his face.......

"Do not waste thoughts on such matters," said the Overseer. "I have completed a thorough analysis of your nervous system and it is now quite clear what befell you. After you left the anti-grav chamber earlier this evening, you will recall that you ate an apple whilst you were dressing.

"To be precise, my acoustic monitor recordings reveal that you took 11 bites from what I later found out to be an English Cox's apple, the remains of which were removed from your stomach a few hours ago. The apple contained molecular traces of an unknown tryptamine alkaloid, possibly with hallucinogenic properties. However, this alkaloid does not resemble any one neurotransmitter as do the alkaloids found in fungi, vine and leaf with which you are familiar. Any bizarre experiences that you had in the wake of the apple's consumption were, I propose, engendered by this hallucinogenic alkaloid and were of a solely subjective kind. I was alerted shortly after its effects took hold, as your chip registered a dangerous toxin in your blood stream. By the time that your aides had arrived, you were lying unconscious on the floor of your office. This was about 4 hours ago. I should stress once more that this substance was highly toxic. You might easily have died..."

"So someone tried to poison me then?" said Fickle incredulously. It was a nightmare scenario, he realised, but it had to be faced. After all, here he was lying in the med-room recovering from the assault.

"Not someone, no," said the Overseer. "The alkaloid was part of the apple, not issuing from outside of it. It was built into the apple's living molecular structure. It was a natural component of it..."

"Then the food chain's fucked again," said Fickle wearily. In his mind's eye, he visualised the terrible viral and toxic plagues of the previous century that had wiped out fully 99% of the world's population, allowing the fortunate survivors to witness a slow return to an Edenic existence. The viral and toxic plagues had arisen from the unpredicted effects of genetically engineered plant crops. Out of these genetically altered plants had arisen deadly new mutant viruses and toxins that wrought their lethal effects over decades. Like some vicious cancer, they had spread themselves throughout the globe destroying the masses and breeding in the corpses at an ever increasing rate. Only those fortunate enough to have the rare immuno-genotype were spared and were, years later, able to watch Albion's Eden rise like a Phoenix from the ashes of the past. Only now, thought Fickle, the nightmare had returned to haunt civilisation once more, as if the awful side-effects of human technology were invincible and stronger than the technology itself.

"How many others?" asked Fickle. "I can't be the first to succumb..."

"You do not understand," answered the Overseer. "I have had all the food checked in the building for the presence of this alkaloid, and there are no other traces of it. I have had all the fruit analysed at your suppliers and again there was nothing unusual. I have also ordered random food analyses to

be carried out throughout Albion. From the results that have come back to me so far, it would appear to be almost certain that the toxin was only present in the apple that you happened to eat. You should also know that this substance is or was extremely paradoxical, in that its structure broke all the rules of chemistry. It was highly unstable and should not have existed at all. In fact, it probably only formed for the few hours that it lay in your stomach.

"Shortly after I isolated it in the remains removed from your body, it rapidly underwent structural change into a more stable and psychologically inactive compound. I am still trying to comprehend the nature of its manifestation, though all I have to go on now are the few micro-scans that I made earlier. It is truly a mystery. And a bit of bad luck on your part Minister Prime Fickle. Do not concern yourself with such unfortunate incidents. You need plenty of rest, and I suggest that you remain here for a few more hours. Miss Troy and Beta 29 will be over to see you later."

Fickle lay in the med-room staring at the ceiling, pondering on his strange experiences. A great deal of his trip had returned to his awareness and he felt himself on the verge of some new thought or idea. All of his past visions on fungi, vine and leaf seemed somehow trivial compared with his meeting with the Serpent at the foot of that great tree in the forest. The encounter had a mythical, almost biblical feel to it, and Fickle felt certain that the experience was significant and was supposed to have taught him something.

But what exactly? Respect? Did he not worship the Earth enough? Or was it about fear? Did he still have too much fear? Or did he have to move on to some new level of experience? Was he pushed on because he was afraid to make the move on his own? He did not want to relinquish his post as Minister Prime just yet. He had another 12 months before he was to be replaced by Beta 1. Unless of course some greater future awaited him. But what could possibly be better than his position here, he wondered...

Fickle shut his eyes and immediately saw a scaly multi-coloured tail slither behind a huge ancient-looking wooden door. Although he only glimpsed the tail briefly, the psychedelic image was crystal clear. He waited, hoping to see more, but saw only blackness and random phosphenes. The Serpent's presence, he realised, was still overwhelming and could manifest itself at any time. As long as he refrained from fearing it, it seemed no bad thing. In fact there was something profoundly amazing about this whole turn of events as if his life had been caught up in some powerful magical process.

"Back in the real world lover boy?"

Startled, Fickle opened his eyes and saw the familiar face of Helen Troy peering down at him. Carefully she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, her hair brushing gently against his cheek.

"Its......good to see you," murmured Fickle, reaching his hand out toward hers. "I've had the most incredible experience."

"The Overseer told me about the apple," said Helen. "Seems that your food has been spiked by Gaia Herself huh?"

"Yes," said Fickle frowning a little. "One apple in a million. My psyche was kidnapped and forced to confront the Goddess in all Her fearsome beauty."

Fickle told Helen about all that had befallen him that night and was surprised to learn from her that his com system was currently being replaced as the Overseer had found that it had been malfunctioning earlier that evening.

"So perhaps the episode in the office happened in real time and real space after all," mused Fickle. He was bewildered at the thought of a huge intelligent entity that could, at will, penetrate and control an advanced electronic communications system in order to give him a scare.

He was about to discuss such concepts with Helen when he noticed that she was biting her lower lip, and looking at him oddly. Fickle gazed questioningly toward her

"I can't keep it secret any more," she declared. "I reached the conclusion of Beyond The Event Horizon. Earlier today. Whilst in fact you were being chased by Gaia. I am the first person to have completed that game."

Helen was smiling with satisfaction, like a little girl who had come top of her class. Fickle was astonished. How many more surprises could a young male hominid take, he wondered. Though he hadn't played that particular VR competitive game, all games of that type offered big, no huge, prizes if one managed to reach the conclusion.

"What did you win?" Fickle asked her incredulously.

She paused, savouring the moment. At last she said:

"Unlimited time in the Virtual Spirit Network. Its only just been built. By the Japanese. They've just opened an Access Station in New London and only a handful of people will be able to use it. It works on different principles to the traditional VR Networks. No headgear and body trodes. What happens is that the system scans your entire body down to each atom and then it replicates the whole informational pattern inside itself. Through some form of complementary transference you get to shift your consciousness onto your replicated informational pattern within the system.

"The most brilliant aspect though is that there is a time differential. Because this Virtual Spirit Network operates at optical speed, a few months of its experienced time is equivalent to just a split-second of normal everyday time. And we have unlimited time anyway. So its going to be one very, very long holiday."

"As spirits?" said Fickle perplexed.

"Absolutely," answered Helen excitedly. "As free moving spirits we will be able to take on any shape or form inside the system. One can do anything and be any thing. So come on sleepyhead, lets go!"

Fickle laughed and shook his head as he watched Helen skip gaily out of the med-room, leaving him to study a small gold card that she had just handed to him. In elaborately scrolled letters it bore the legend INFINITY PASS. Beneath this it read:

CONGRATULATIONS. HAVING SUCCESSFULLY REACHED THE CONCLUSION OF 'BEYOND THE EVENT HORIZON', YOU AND ONE FRIEND ARE INVITED TO SPEND UNLIMITED TIME AS VIRTUAL SPIRITS IN THE NEWLY OPENED VIRTUAL SPIRIT NETWORK WHERE A GROOVY TIME IS ABSOLUTELY GUARANTEED. PRESENT THIS PASS AT ANY VIRTUAL SPIRIT ACCESS STATION FOR ADMISSION. ENJOY.

Fickle turned the card over and found that the reverse side had a rather vivid picture embossed upon it. In the centre was the face of what appeared to be a fierce black panther, baring its teeth. Its eyes were bright yellow and seemed to glint magically in the overhead fluorescent light. Around the panther's head and forming a circle was a green snake in the process of eating its own tail.

It was a very rich symbolic image and Fickle lay there staring at it, his mind running through a myriad thoughts. He considered his life situation, his existential position, and his knowledge and beliefs about the world. Deep within him he sensed a kind of tingling which began to grow. A feeling of wellbeing washed over him as he realised with certainty that he was in good transcendental hands. All doubt and fear had now seemingly vanished, as he once more found a wave of inspiration on which to surf. It was time to temporarily hand over his office to Beta 1, whilst he and Helen dispensed with their cumbersome bodies and explored the realms of Spirit offered by radical technology. The Goddess really did move in mysterious ways if one was sensitive enough to see it and this, realised Fickle, was what life was all about.

Feeling fit and super-well, Fickle leapt up out of bed and hurried after Helen, the golden Infinity Pass clenched firmly in his hand. As he hurtled naked along the corridors of number 10 an electronic voice suddenly boomed out loudly.

"Sex and drugs and rock'n roll! Good evening Minister Prime Fickle. I am your new com system. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I have just been running through the list of duties performed by your old com and have therefore checked the bingo numbers in tomorrow's edition of The Times They Have Changed, advance copies of which are now available. It seems that you have won some toads."

Fickle grinned. Nothing surprised him anymore.