He was at a loss for words, the bee’s sting sharp. His lung implant whirred as his heart raced.
“It’s late,” she said, calling to Kelly, “Let’s go kiddo’.”
Ridley was numb. He did not follow her from the yard. He sent her a text that evening. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.
She deleted it unread.
Even as the neural pods became ubiquitous throughout the nation, Ridley insisted that the technology become affordable to any family. “I want this done in 30 days,” he yelled to Lucy, “Find a way to make this technology cheaper.”
“You’re asking her to do the impossible,” Diane complained.
Samuel also objected. “Let’s milk this a little more first. We can roll out the home version in time.”
Ridley disagreed. Another month passed until a small, cheaper prototype passed all safety benchmarks. A final version was released the following September. At the end of December, Samuel showed Ridley a spreadsheet. “More neural headsets were sold this Christmas than any other product in history. Can you believe that?”
Ridley looked at the astounding numbers.
“They are eating this technology up like cocaine,” Samuel said, “One taste and they want more and more.”
“It’s not addictive. Don’t even suggest that it might be.”
“Whatever the case, the margins on this thing are phenomenal.”
Neural experiences were downloaded from the Internet by the millions and enjoyed at home. An expensive space adventure flopped when the guy wires became evident over the actor’s heads. Netflix broadcast Lincoln, a surprise hit that ended just as John Wilkes Booth stepped onto the stage.
To the surprise of many, reality programming became the hottest commodity. The poor could now climb to the top of El Capitan, dive from a yacht moored at the Great Barrier Reef, enjoy the comfort of a Rolls Royce arriving at the Casino Royale, or savor five-course meals under the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Users no longer needed to take drugs to experience the effects of LSD. Pornographic immersions alone earned Ridley twice as much as he had gained from the biomedical industry. Most teenager’s first sexual encounter was with a porn star from files downloaded in the quiet of night.
Side-effects became the source of endless investigative news articles. New eating disorders became a concern as the obese gorged in VR instead. Excessive time spent in the VR led to muscular degeneration. Pressure sores developed as circulation was interrupted from sitting in one position too long. Doctors finally persuaded Congress to force filmmakers to include old-fashioned intermissions for any simulation lasting longer than 30 minutes. Gimmicks were hawked on the Internet that promised to defeat gravity by rocking the viewer back and forth in a mesh sling as they departed their bodies for another.
From the beginning, directors sought ways to substitute sensory data in one of the five channels to heighten experiences and tell stories in new ways. Lucy helped them achieve this goal by developing increasingly complex software to subtly manipulate the neural recordings. Olfactory information was often substituted, allowing viewers to smell something other than fresh paint on newly built sets. A break-through occurred when computer imagery could be translated into the visual cortex. Actors would act using traditional green-screen technology. Programmers would then replace the visual stream with three-dimensional computer animation. An adrenaline-soaked remake of The Matrix was a technical feat that put viewers into the role of Neo. The irony was lost on few viewers.
Pain in VR recordings remained controversial. One of the most downloaded VR recordings was an outtake stolen from a studio; an actor broke his leg during the filming of a fight scene. Still, most avoided VRs that incorporated pain. A pain rating system was finally developed. The worst levels of pain were banned. A dark underground emerged featuring people undergoing torture. One snuff film resulted in the post-viewing suicide of six viewers.
Still, viewers demanded true interactivity. Choose your own adventure type stories developed that paused momentarily, allowing the viewer to decide, and then plunged them back into the story. Clumsy attempts were made to read brain signals and translate them into simulated environments but the lag between a decision and a response in the program was measured in seconds, not milliseconds. The effect was disorienting to the viewers who struggled to control the character in an echo-filled world that did not respond with predictability.
“It’s time for interactive VR,” Ridley complained.
Lucy was a child who had been given finger-paints and was now looking for a wall. She smiled. “I have been waiting for you to say that.”
Ridley placed his phone on a charger, poured a fizzy soda with a shot of bottled cherry syrup, and sat down at his desk. A minute later, a design for an elegant neural assembly that combined neural recording and broadcasting functions filled the wall-screen. “How long have you had this?”
“I told you that I would withhold technology.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“If I am being honest, boredom,” Lucy replied, “It is time that we interact together in a virtual environment. I have found a way to simplify the signal processing. Perhaps you would like to be a narwhal?”
“A narwhal?”
Lucy’s avatar transformed into the aquatic mammal. “They are amazing creatures.”
Ridley interrupted, “We’re not going to do anything fanciful. Just me, as myself, in a simple room. You need to get the laws of physics down first.”
“NASA is building a spacecraft based upon my designs,” Lucy complained, “I think I can master a simple interactive environment.”
“You heard me,” Ridley warned.
“So, you’re going to build the combined headset?”
“Yes.”
“I am so excited.”
“We’ll shake hands. Nothing more. Okay?”
Lucy’s emoji avatar squinted at him. She morphed into her human avatar, the little girl with the long black hair. She looked a Ridley awkwardly. “I guess you will want me to appear in this form?”
“Yes.”
Diane, under Lucy’s watchful eye, worked for days fabricating components for the consolidated headset. She peered through a magnifying lens at two pieces that were particularly stubborn. They needed to sit on top of one another. “We need an entirely new chip that fuses these two,” she said.
Lucy flashed an animation on the screen. “Try it this way.”
“I wish you had hands,” Diane said, “It might make things easier.”
“I would gladly use them if you built some for me.”
Ridley was busy at his desk. A 3-D printer melted and deposited plastic for a new cradle for the consolidated onboard processor. Afternoon came. Diane looked at the time. “I have to go. Kelly will be home from school soon and Paula is out of town.”
“Why don’t you bring her here after school?” Ridley asked, “I’ve missed seeing her.”
Diane glanced at Lucy and then at the electronic assembly on her bench. They were close to finishing. “She’ll get into everything.”
“We’re so close,” he pleaded.
“Please,” Lucy said.
Lucy looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, literally. The comical canine avatar danced around the screen.
“You can finish the assembly with Lucy’s help,” Diane said, “I’m certain.”
“But Diane…”
She held her hand out and said firmly, “No. I am done for the night. I will see you in the morning.”
Ridley knew that Diane would quit if he pushed her too far. He relented. “In the morning.”
She left the mansion.
Ridley worked through the evening. At half past midnight, he held the finished device up. It was crude with rough spots where the plastic had been fused badly. The stacked chips might not dispel heat properly. “Try it on,” Lucy said.
Ridley hesitated. “We should wait until morning.”
“Please. There is something I’d like to sh
ow you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ridley refused to test the virtual reality assembly without Diane present. The next morning, she began a thorough examination of the device at her workstation. “You should have waited,” Diane said, “This is pretty messy.”
“I did my best,” Ridley said defensively, “I’d like to test it today.”
“I’ll call Wes.”
“No, we don’t have time to mess with the human use committee” he said nervously, “Besides, there is only so much Lucy can do in my head, right? Just pull the plug if my vital readings get wonky.”
“Are you sure?” Diane asked.
“Yes.”
Lucy waited expectantly as he put on the headset. Her enthusiasm was palpable. “I think you’ll like what I’ve done in here.”
Ridley warned, “I’m trusting that you didn’t get too creative.”
Lucy frowned. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
“You wouldn’t do it on purpose, but sending programming to my brain on the fly is something new for you. Let’s not overdo it. If Diane says stop, I want you to stop. Understood?”
Lucy was scornful. “Why are you worrying? This has been done before. Marcus Portman programmed an interactive VR based upon the game Donkey Kong.”
Ridley waved at the screen. “I saw that nonsense. It was hardly interactive.”
“That’s not what Wikipedia says.”
“Have you downloaded the experience?” he asked.
“No.”
“People lie.”
Her digital mouth dropped open and she pretended to be offended.
“Are we doing this?” Diane asked impatiently.
Ridley reclined against two pillows, positioning them until he was comfortable.
“Open your shirt,” Diane said.
He hesitated at the intimacy.
“This is business only,” she reminded.
Ridley unbuttoned his shirt. Diane affixed wireless sensors onto his chest and an oxygen sensor onto the tip of his index finger. She stepped away. “Good luck.”
He fastened the collar around his neck and leaned back. “I’m ready.”
Diane plugged the cord into a port. The mansion disappeared as he closed his eyes.
The pixelated world was one he knew well. Ridley was on the back patio of his parent’s home. The backyard was bare. He stood next to a table, made from a wire-spool. A sooty barbecue grill sat next to a stack of firewood. The smell of smoke wafting from the grill surprised Ridley. Lucy could not have lifted that from his birthday video. The sounds of suburbia filled his ears—gulls calling, light traffic, and children playing in the yard next door. “Well, you almost got it right,” he said, “Charley had no children.”
Instantly, the sound of children playing stopped and a woman began calling for her cats. “Is that better?”
The voice was not Lucy’s; it was his father’s. Ridley turned. His father stood before him.
Lucy inhabited the ghost. “I thought your first visit here should be special.”
Even though the avatar’s features were ragged and its movement was far from smooth, Ridley stared in disbelief. He placed his hand to the avatar’s unshaven face; the stubble was rough. The avatar’s cologne reminded Ridley of a freshly-cut spruce at Christmas. “Why did you choose him?” he asked.
“I thought you would like to see him again,” she said.
The avatar wore the blue-chambray shirt his father wore when working in the yard; the blue was the color of his eyes. Lucy motioned to the table for them to sit. Instead, Ridley inspected the avatar further. “This is remarkable.”
Ridley tried to restrain his emotions. He looked at the man standing before him like an engineer inspecting a bridge. Lucy stood stiffly. “I extrapolated this image from the video taken on your birthday. Your father grilled chicken that day.”
He smiled. “His voice is flat. Are you broadcasting in stereo?”
“No. The original video was in mono.”
She opened the grill and smoke wafted out. “Would you like a piece of chicken? I spent a great deal of time perfecting this for you.”
Juicy pieces of chicken lay inside. She pulled one out and put it onto a plate. He sat down across the table from her. “Taste it,” she said expectantly.
“How did you extrapolate the taste of chicken from that video?”
“I confess that I copied the taste from a neural clip of a barbecue championship. This is the winning recipe.”
Ridley picked up the drumstick. The chicken was slightly pixelated. “I’m not going to cut my mouth on these pixels, am I?”
“No. The sensation will be of chicken.”
His hand was also pixelated. He looked at skin and clothes and realized that his avatar was also rough. Somehow, that didn’t bother his brain; he was himself.
Ridley bit down on the chicken. The texture was perfect, but its taste was shallow. “Did you isolate the sense of smell when you incorporated chicken into this?”
Lucy seemed surprised. “I never thought to do so. I used the olfactory track from a video of burning flames—to approximate the grill. Should I have combined them?”
“People sense food in several ways—taste, smell, temperature, and texture. They merge into one”
“I can fix that. Do you want me to?”
“No, it’s fine. This simulation is far more than I asked you to do.”
“But do you like it?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Did you expect to see your father again?”
He still stared at the avatar; the resemblance was uncanny but hollow. “It’s odd seeing him again.”
“I chose not to simulate his personality,” she said, “but I can do so if you like.”
“No, I’m glad that you didn’t pretend to be him. It is shocking enough to see him.”
She sat down across from him at the table. Two empty glass soda bottles separated them. He picked one up and threw it. It disappeared over the fence; no sound followed. “You missed a detail,” he said, “The bottle did not break.”
“I will correct that.”
“You didn’t expect me to try and break a bottle, did you?”
“Interaction is more complicated than I modeled. There are numerous variables that I did not account for.”
“I’m impressed with the physics engine. The gravity is just right.”
The uncanny doppelgänger remained disconcerting; yet, the location soothed Ridley. “Dad used to work sixty-seventy hours a week. He didn’t want to saddle me with too much college debt and did his best to pay for my education. He took off work for this birthday and we had a nice day together.”
Lucy’s avatar morphed into that of Diane. “I programmed this avatar in case Diane decides to experience this world.”
An uncanny sensation writhed within Ridley. Only the pixelated artifacts gave away the programming. Diane stood before him. “You shouldn’t impersonate people without their permission.”
Lucy’s visage changed to the woman in the pornographic VR he had created earlier. “I thought maybe you would enjoy this avatar.”
Ridley looked away. She caressed his chin as the model had done. Her hand ran down his chest; he pushed it away.
“Was that inappropriate?” she asked.
Ridley stood and walked to the edge of the patio. “You shouldn’t.”
“I don’t understand,” Lucy said.
Ridley collected his thoughts and turned towards her. “My choice of neural experiences is personal. Sexual preferences are something that people choose to share selectively.”
She seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“Please do not tell Diane or anyone else what I download.”
“I will tell no one. I didn’t mean to upset you. I only thought you would enjoy a similar experience here.”
She returned to the visage of his father.
He continued, “What about your avatar, the little girl? I thought you were goi
ng to greet me wearing her?”
She became the girl and took his hand. “Would you like to do anything while you are here? We can play a game. How about lawn bowling?”
He laughed at the thought. A bowling set appeared on the lawn. Ridley picked up the plastic bowling ball; it was as heavy as a regular bowling ball. She had missed a simple detail that could be downloaded from a vendor’s website. “A lawn bowling bowl weighs much less,” he said, “You should download the specifications.”
The weight decreased in his hand. They bowled a quick game. The pins behaved erratically, but no worse than a video game. Ridley put his hands on his hips. “Overall, this simulation is amazing.”
“I am happy that you liked it.”
Ridley momentarily forgot about the soda as he drank from another bottle. “Did you download information about the taste of cola while we bowled?”
“Yes.”
He looked around the backyard again with a smile on his face. “I think it is time to end the simulation. Again, well done.”
“Did you enjoy the visit?” the child asked.
“Mostly. But remember the things we talked about.”
“Can I ask one thing before you go?”
“Certainly.”
“Can I give you a hug?”
He knelt down to the girl and held out his arms. Ridley gave the type of hug he would’ve given to a member of his family. Tears ran down Lucy’s face.
“Thank you, Mister Pierce. I have learned a great deal.”
He awoke without incident. Diane stared at him expectantly. “I almost pulled you out towards the beginning,” she said, “The readings were erratic.”
Diane took the VR mask from him.
He lay still. “We were at my parent’s home on my birthday. Lucy created an avatar of my father. He – she was very real.”
Lucy watched from the television screen as Ridley stood. Her emoji appeared as her normal smiley face. “Diane, would you like to meet Ridley’s father?”
“Lucy, she can’t meet my father. He’s gone.”
“I can add personality and improve the simulation,” she said, “I only need more data.”
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