by KB Shaw
To each viewer, everything in the IHT environment was shades of gray, except for the viewer him- or herself. The room was vast, with high vaulted ceilings. A large, thick oriental carpet positioned in the center of the room’s hardwood floor defined the sitting area. This area was warmly illuminated by some unseen light source, but the rest of the room faded into blackness. Rosa and Cameron were seated at one edge of the carpet.
The Rush family was seated along the left side of the carpet, while Rosa’s parents were seated on the right. Directly across from the applicants was a simple Scandinavian-style table. Seated behind it, from Cameron’s left to right, were Debbie White, Gwen Johanssen, and Max Anderson.
Gwen greeted her guests. “Welcome to Norway! How was your trip?”
Jenny Rush seemed unimpressed. “Fast,” she said, “but airlines serve peanuts.”
Cameron’s mom was flabbergasted. “Jenny!”
Someone laughed in the darkness behind the table. It was a hearty, man’s laugh. Cameron squinted, trying to see the man in the shadows. All he could make out was the dim shape of a large man with pale hair seated outside the circle of light. Gray hair, maybe? It was hard to tell since Cameron’s view was not in color. Were there others in the shadows with this man?
Gwen Johanssen glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of the man, and began to laugh also. Soon, everyone was laughing, including Mrs. Rush.
Chapter 11:
The Four Cs
“WE APOLOGIZE for the dizziness caused by the IHT transition,” said Gwen Johanssen. “It’s our goal to eliminate the ‘wobble’ that precedes the dissolve. Our tests have shown that’s what causes the sense of motion sickness.”
Gwen then looked at Jenny and said, “I don’t think you would find holographic peanuts very satisfying, Jenny.”
She noticed the surprise on Jenny’s face at being called by her first name. “I’m sorry, I have you all at a disadvantage,” Gwen said. She lifted a couple of file folders from the table in front of her. “I know all your names and faces, and, except for Rosa and Cameron, you don’t know who I am.” She scanned the family members as she spoke, making eye contact and giving a reassuring smile to each.
“I’m Gwen Johanssen. I’m the Director of Communications for GundTech. Starting this fall, I will be headmaster of the academy. I’m as excited about this opportunity as the two of you are. Each of you knows your local rep, but for the sake of the others, may I introduce Max Anderson from our Albuquerque office and Debbie White, who’s based in Madison.”
Looking straight at Cameron, she continued, “As you have no doubt noticed, behind me are the members of the selection committee. Their identities are obscured to ensure that no outside pressure or influences can be brought to bear on them in these matters.”
“You mean bribes,” said Bernie Costas. Esmer gave her husband a sharp look.
Gwen smiled broadly. “Quite right, Mr. Costas. May I call you Bernardo? Or Bernard? I’d like to keep this as informal as possible.”
“Bernie would be fine.”
The other adults nodded in unspoken consent.
“But bribery to gain access to the school is only a small part of it. Our committee members have intimate knowledge of the technology we use.” She turned towards Mary Rush.
“You’re an attorney, Mary. You can understand our position.”
“A company must protect its intellectual property,” said Mary Rush.
“That is correct.” said Gwen. “Now, although their input will be considered, neither your reps, nor the reps for any of the other applicants, will have a vote in the final selections. Any questions so far?”
She surveyed the room. “Good. Let’s move on.”
Gwen rose and walked to the center of the carpet. “Before we proceed to the three Cs, I want you to become comfortable—familiar with the IHT environment and with each other.”
She walked over to Cameron and Rosa and offered a hand to each. “I’m aware that you have never actually met, face-to-face, that is.”
She raised them from their chairs. “Let me introduce you. Rosa Costas, Cameron Rush. Cameron Rush, Rosa Costas.”
Cameron awkwardly offered his hand in a shake and felt stupid the moment he did. Rosa looked at Cameron’s parents, then hers, then at Cameron’s extended hand. Her eyes rose to Cameron’s as she stepped past his outstretched hand and gave him a hug. Cameron stood a second, his one hand still extended, the other hanging uselessly at his side.
“Good to see you, Cheese Boy.”
“Jeez,” said Jenny. “Hug her, stupid!”
Cameron gave the black and white image of Rosa a tentative hug. He was amazed at the sensations—not only the physical sensation of Rosa’s hug and the feeling of her in his arms, but also what he was feeling inside. Just like the retarded geek he was, Cameron had never thought about what it would be like to hold Rosa’s hand, much less to feel her in his arms. Now he knew, and he liked the hot, queasy sensation coursing through his body. It was both unsettling and reassuring at the same time, and he wondered if Rosa could feel his heart pounding rapidly, or his sweaty palms, or the heat radiating from his face.
“H-hello, Rosa. This is… Uh… Well… I mean… This is amazing.”
“I hate to break this up,” said Gwen, “but as you have discovered, the IHT world is a three-sense environment. You can touch, see, and hear. At this point, you cannot smell or taste. And that, my dear Jenny, is why we didn’t serve peanuts.” The room filled with laughter once again. “Let’s take several minutes to talk among ourselves. Feel free to get up and move about, but please stay within the confines of the carpet.”
For the next half-hour, they all got to know each other. The Rushes were interested in the rich southwestern heritage of Rosa’s family. Rosa’s ancestors, a mixture of Navajo, Hopi, and Spanish blood, had been part of the land as long as anyone could remember.
It was Rosa who moved the conversation back to the IHT Academy. “Ms Johanssen?”
“Yes, Rosa?”
“Without giving away any secrets, can you tell us how this all works? The IHT… the academy… You know, this interview.”
“Yeah. Where are we?” asked Jenny.
“Well, to answer Jenny’s question first, you’re still sitting safely in your home in Wisconsin, just as Rosa is sitting in New Mexico. Max and Debbie are in Albuquerque and Madison, and I’m in Norway. This room doesn’t exist anywhere, but can exist everywhere.”
Jenny looked confused.
“Okay, without giving away any secrets, the IHT has two elements. The high-level element creates a holographic image in an open space. Outsiders—people who were not within the simulation—can even view this image. Did you watch the news conference and the roller-coaster demonstration?”
Only Cameron and Rosa said yes, but the others said they had seen videos on the news.
“Well, that’s an example of a Level One simulation. Level One requires projection hardware placed evenly around an enclosed, dimly lit space. The low-level element of the IHT creates the physical sensations for anyone within a simulation.
“In this case,” she explained, “there is no need for outside viewing, so there is no holographic image being projected. If someone peered into your window, they would simply see you sitting around talking to each other. The academy will be conducted at this level.”
“I must admit,” said Mr. Rush, “it’s hard to believe I’m not here and actually moving around.”
“Quite right, Ed.” Gwen glanced into the darkness, in the direction of the committee. “I hope I’m not revealing too much, but we did an experiment involving a subject lying in bed while hooked up to the IHT. He was a professional athlete who was testing an IHT exercise program. The sensations created by the IHT were so convincing to his brain that he actually bulked up as if he were doing his regular routines with real weights.
“If that’s true, Gwen, if a Level Two simulation is so real, why even have a Level One?” asked Mrs. Cost
as.
“Imagine using an IHT ‘set’ for a movie. Remember how the invisible cameraman moved about while the WBN reporter rode the roller-coaster? Well, if an actor were really just sitting in a chair, just ‘sensing’ the action, that wouldn’t look too good would it?”
They all nodded in agreement.
“So, the actor needs to be able to move through the IHT set as the camera is rolling. Movie studios will no longer have to build elaborate sets or travel to exotic locations. All they’ll need is a large, empty space.”
“Actors will no longer have to battle imaginary monsters or aliens in front of a green screen. The seven-headed beast would actually be there, in front of them—so realistic that the actors won’t have to feign fright.”
She paused for effect, then continued in a low voice. “Please, don’t tell anyone what I’m about to say! Of course, they probably wouldn’t believe you anyway. Our founder has a secret motive. And that is to change the face of education—to bring the same quality of education to every child in the world, regardless of location or economic status. To do this, we must make money. The film industry, among others, will unknowingly finance this educational revolution.”
As the discussion continued in the center of the room, Cameron pulled Rosa aside. It all looked innocent enough. In fact, the others didn’t even notice as Cameron took Rosa’s hand and backed up to the edge of the table. “Pretend that we’re just talking,” he said.
Rosa immediately realized what Cameron was up to. “Clever little Cheese Boy,” Rosa said as she appeared to gaze into Cameron’s eyes. But she wasn’t looking at Cameron at all. Cameron had positioned her at the closest point on the carpet to the person or persons who sat in the shadows beyond. Sneaking a look past Cameron’s right ear, she tried to pierce the darkness.
“What do you see?” whispered Cameron. He noticed a sudden change in Rosa’s expression.
“¡Carajo!” Rosa took a step backward. “Ven conmigo—come!” she whispered as she started toward the others.
They saw Gwen Johanssen looking at them as they returned from the table. She then glanced into the darkness behind before turning back toward the group.
The two walked around the others and stood by the chairs in which they had been seated.
“What is it?” asked Cameron in a hushed tone.
Rosa had a solemn expression as she replied, “I think we just blew it.”
“Blew it? What do you mean?”
“I was trying to see who was out there, right?”
“Yeah? So what did you see?”
“I could only make out one person, very dimly. A rather large man, I think. Then…” She fell silent.
“Then what?”
“Then his hand came barely into the light. He was wagging a finger at me—at us—as if to say ‘naughty, naughty.’ Then he pointed back to the others. I… I think we blew it.”
Cameron didn’t have time to ponder the problem. Gwen Johanssen said loudly, “Please, if you would kindly return to your seats, let’s get back to business.”
She waited for everyone to be seated before continuing.
“First, Debbie and Max have an information packet for the parents to review once this interview is over. Ultimately, it is your questions we must answer so you can decide whether or not you will allow your children to participate. If they do get accepted, and you agree to let them attend, they will be pioneers in perfecting this new technology.”
“Or guinea pigs,” muttered Bernie Costas under his breath.
His wife replied with a swift kick in the shin.
He winced and yelped, “¡Mierda!”, which was immediately translated into everyone’s native language.
This, in turn, merited another tap on the shin.
Wisely, Mr. Costas held in any verbal reaction to the second blow.
Rosa cast her eyes to the ground and fought to hold in a chuckle.
Gwen went on as if she hadn’t heard Mr. Costas’s remark. “The application process follows the three Cs. That is,” she cast a serious look at Cameron and Rosa, “you’re being evaluated on Cleverness, Character, and Creativity. As you may have guessed, the application packet was the test for cleverness. Let’s just say you have received high marks in this area, as proven by the number on your application. To be honest with you, we had not considered the possibility of a joint application by two or more persons. We were caught off guard, but after considerable discussion, it was decided to proceed with your application. We are now in the Character Evaluation phase of the process.”
As Gwen spoke these last words, her expression sent a chill down Rosa’s spine. Did we just fail the character test?
“This evaluation began last Saturday when Debbie and Max first visited. We aren’t interested only in the applicants’ character, but also in the character of their families. If you agree to proceed with the application, Debbie and Max will spend considerable time with you over the next few weeks, in an effort to get to know you on a personal level.
“Now … parents, Jenny, kindly remove the IDOs you were given and hand them to your rep. IDOs are those little pins you put on before we started. Debbie and Max will go over the information packets and answer your questions, while I continue interviewing Cameron and Rosa. This should only take another 40 minutes or so. Thanks. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
One by one, the others disappeared as they said good-bye and removed their pins.
The image wobbled and dissolved. Rosa, Cameron, and Gwen Johanssen were now seated in cushy chairs in the center of the carpet. Gwen’s chair faced the other two. She had a note pad in her hand, to which she referred from time to time. “Just relax,” she said. She gave them a comforting smile before reading the first question.
The questions continued for another half hour. They seemed to be about anything and everything. The two youngsters couldn’t detect a pattern or a point to the conversation.
“Well, thank you two. I’ve enjoyed this talk,” said Ms Johanssen. “As you know, if you advance to the next level, we will be evaluating your creativity.” She shook their hands. “Now, if you will kindly remove your IDOs, your parents will have lots to discuss with you.”
Cameron’s hand was moving up toward the pin when Rosa clasped it and squeezed. She rose from her chair and proceeded to the side of the carpet where she thought the table had sat earlier. “Sir,” she started, “I apologize for prying. Cameron just wanted to talk, but I was being nosey, I guess. Please don’t hold it against him.”
“Rosa!” Cameron moved next to her, gave her a stern look, then turned to the darkness. “You know exactly what I did. I led her to the table and told her to see what she could see. It was my fault.”
“Makes no difference whose fault it was, does it?” came the man’s voice from darkness on the opposite side of the room.
“No,” said Rosa, looking at Cameron as he took her hand in his. “We’re a team.”
Still looking into each other’s eyes, they removed their IDOs and disappeared.
• • •
IN A CONFERENCE ROOM in Oslo, Gwen Johanssen and the man seated across from her were setting their IDOs on the table between them.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked.
“I think we forgot the fourth C, Gwen.”
The woman was puzzled. “The fourth C?”
“Curiosity.”
Chapter 12:
Phase Three
THE GUNDTECH REPS spent the rest of that Saturday discussing every question the families had about the academy.
Safety?
GundTech programmers had inserted many different safeguards into the technology. Plus, every second of every simulation would be monitored.
Invasion of privacy?
No, the monitoring was not an invasion of privacy because everyone would know they were being observed. In fact, it was a condition to which users must agree.
Isolation?
The inventor of the IHT realized, better than anyon
e, the need for social contact with others of the same age. The academy was not going to be a school unto itself; it was designed to be an extension of the student’s regular schooling. If Cameron and Rosa were accepted, Debbie and Max would work with their schools to schedule two consecutive periods each day for academy classes, and they would see to it that the students receive proper academic credit. Applicants could, and should, still be involved in the same school activities and sports as they were before.
Time differences?
On certain occasions, events might occur at strange hours of the day. These events would be relatively few, and their timing would be scheduled in such a way that the same people would not have to get up in the middle of the night every time. Starting times for academy-wide events would be rotated through the time zones. Individual classes would be comprised of five to ten students within two or three adjacent time zones. If Rosa and Cameron were accepted, they might be in a class with someone from Canada, Mexico, or even Central America.
Boys and girls together?
A delicate issue, to be sure, since the IHT experience was so “real” and could be considered “safe” by inquisitive teens with raging hormones. Again, the answer was monitoring—every second of every simulation. Student-created programs would have to be reviewed by academy staff before being authorized.
Student-created programs?
Yes, academy students will have the opportunity to create their own IHT programs.
THE REPS STAYED with the families until well after super. Before they left, they gave each family a special GundTech com-address to which they could direct any further questions and to which they should send their acceptance of all the points in the academy enrollment if their child was admitted. Cameron and Rosa should find out within 24 hours whether or not they had made it to the creativity phase of the evaluation process.
Once the reps left, Rosa and Cameron spent the rest of the evening talking it over with their parents. It wasn’t until Sunday morning that they could speak to each other.