For the next month Walkeden sequestered himself in his apartment. He spent part of his advance payment on upgrading his VR design equipment; he hadn’t used his home rig much since giving up his freelance career to found his own company, and technology had marched on. Now, for a fraction of what he had originally spent setting up the Pearly Gate’s system, he could create a home system that matched and, in some ways even surpassed it, in resolution.
Of course, the transfer of the persona simulation into the afterlife would have to be done using The Pearly Gate’s specialized software and hardware, but Walkeden knew that computer inside and out. No one would ever stumble on the private hell he would build for Helen Cavinaugh’s husband. Only he and she would ever be able to view it and watch T
