Sonnebrandt looked around, evidently mildly surprised. "What, no flickering lights and forests of wires? You don't stick your head in a helmet, or anything like that?"
"It all went out with steam radio. This is easier than having a haircut."
"Steam radio?"
"Oh, an English expression. Here. Hop aboard the VISAR express."
Sonnebrandt turned and sat down, looking mildly self-conscious. "This couples into the total nervous system, yes?" he said. "What exactly do I do?"
"It activates when you relax back into it. VISAR will guide you through. Your sensory inputs are suppressed and replaced by what the system channels straight into your brain. Likewise, it monitors your motor and other responses and manufacturers a total environment, complete with a surrogate self, that you think you're actually in. So instead of sending your body to China to experience what's going on there, it brings the information to you. Much faster and flexible. Hop from Thurien to Jevlen and another dozen of their star systems in an hour and be home for lunch."
"It wouldn't know what's going on in China," Sonnebrandt pointed out.
"I picked a bad example," Hunt conceded. "Thurien worlds are fully wired. They can send the data to reproduce what's happening anywhere. So you get injected into an authentic backdrop-the way it actually is there."
"It seems like a lot of effort to put in."
"Thurien psychology is different. They have this hangup about having to get everything exactly right. If something like this ever becomes standard on Earth, you're right-we'd never go to all that trouble. We'd probably make do with lots of extrapolations and simulation. VISAR does that to a degree, too, such as when you want to get the feel of being somewhere that's uninhabited or inhospitable. But where they can, Thuriens have this thing about getting it like it is… Anyway, lie back and enjoy, as they say. I'll hook in next door. See you in psy-space."
Leaving Sonnebrandt to privacy, Hunt went into the adjoining cubicle, sat himself down, and lay back. This had long ago become a familiar routine. A warm feeling of total ease came over him. He sensed the system tuning in to his neural processes. And in moments it was in passive reception mode, waiting for his directions. With Sonnebrandt, things would take a little longer the first time. The system needed to run a series of sensory calibration tests to fix a user's visual and auditory ranges, thermal and tactile sensitivity, and so forth in order to create inputs that seemed normal. Once done, however, the profile was stored and could be invoked immediately on future occasions. It was a good idea to have it updated periodically-a bit like getting one's eyes checked from time to time when approaching the age where things start to get fuzzy.
Hunt swung his legs down and sat up. Or at least, everything in his vision, realistic feelings of pressure against the recliner and friction of his clothes, and simulated internal feedback from his muscles and joints, told him that he did. It was only because of his past experience with this that he knew he was really still immobile in the recliner and would remain so until he decoupled from the system. In earlier days he had found it necessary to convey his wishes, for example as to where he wanted to "go," or whom he wanted to contact, as explicit instructions to VISAR. Now, his interaction with the system had grown subtle enough for it to respond to his unvoiced volition.
When he got up, the recliner behind him appeared empty. What he was seeing was coming into his head from the coupler now, not from his eyes. He walked back around to the adjoining cubicle and leaned casually against the side of the doorway. Sonnebrandt was to all appearances comatose, still undergoing the profiling process. It took a few minutes but was subjectively telescoped to seem a lot less. "Locate him here, too," he said inwardly, evoking VISAR. "Let's see how long he takes to twig it."
"Still can't resist playing a joke, eh?" VISAR observed.
"Consider it an experiment. Purely scientific curiosity."
Sonnebrandt stirred and focused back within the confines of the cubicle. For a moment he seemed unsure of where he was, like somebody coming out of a deep sleep. He saw Hunt, turned his head first one way, then the other to take in the surroundings, then sat up and turned to look at the recliner. He was clearly confused. Finally, he looked back at Hunt. "Do we have a technical hitch?"
Hunt shrugged. "I guess it can happen to anyone," he said noncommittally. "Want to take a tour around? We can try back here later."
"Sure." One of Sonnebrandt's shoes had a scuff mark near the toe, Hunt had noticed earlier. It we there, faithfully reproduced on his virtual shoe. Amazing, Hunt thought to himself.
"I hope it's not a very common thing," Sonnebrandt joked as they exited the cubicle. "I mean, stuck in this starship crossing the Solar System in hours. It's not very reassuring to realize that things can go wrong."
"Oh, I think you can trust the Thuriens, Josef," Hunt replied mysteriously. Then, vocalizing aloud so as to include Sonnebrandt, "VISAR, care to be the tour guide?"
"How about Control and Command Deck, Communications Center, on-board power pickup from the h-space grid, and propulsion control?" VISAR suggested. Since Hunt had initiated a public conversation, Sonnebrandt heard the response, too.
"Does that sound good?" Hunt asked Sonnebrandt.
"They won't mind? Tourists coming in and gawking in places like that?"
"I can see you're not used to being around Thuriens yet."
"Well, I'd say that is about to be corrected in the not very distant future." Sonnebrandt turned his head to glance at Hunt as they walked. "Is there anything I should know about Thuriens?-in dealing with them, I mean. Anything they get upset about? Things that offend them?"
"You won't offend them, Josef. They don't have the competitive grounding that makes humans get defensive from feeling inferior or inadequate. It just isn't in their nature. For the same reason, it's no use trying to win your point by being aggressive or making an argument out of it. They won't respond. What we think is firmness and take pride in, they'd be more likely to see as being pointlessly obstinate and mildly ridiculous. If you realize you're wrong, just say so like they do. If you're right, don't crow about it. See my point? There isn't any gaming for one-upmanship points going on. Their minds don't work that way."
"Hm… You make them sound very patient. Is that something that comes from being such an old civilization?"
"They make you feel like children at times," Hunt agreed. As an afterthought, he added, "Maybe you should talk to Chien."
They came to a cross-corridor and turned in the direction of the Thurien part of the ship. Danchekker, Chien, Mildred, and the two Thuriens were around the corner, studying a live mural display of scenes from various Thurien planets. For a moment, Hunt could only stand and stare at them, perplexed. This didn't make sense.
Hunt and Sonnebrandt were surrogates-virtual creations that existed in their own minds, projected into a VISAR-supplied environment, which in this case happened to be the interior of the ship as captured by the senors that Thuriens embedded in everything they built. And it was true that VISAR could include as part of that environment the images of people who happened to actually be there-or edit them out; it depended on what the user that the experience was being delivered to wanted. But in such a composite situation, the "background" figures-like Danchekker and the others, who were physically there, where the imagery was coming from-couldn't interact with surrogates-like Hunt and Sonnebrandt-who were not. But Danchekker was interacting-by gaping speechlessly, showing all the signs of being as surprised at their meeting as Hunt was. The only explanation that came to Hunt in his befuddlement was that Sonnebrandt had been right, and Hunt was the one who had been fooled. For some reason, unprecedented in Hunt's experience, Thurien technology had failed to function… Or was VISAR the one, maybe, who was playing a joke? Hunt had come across some of its weird ideas of humor before.