“Good?” Dalton swallowed. “Yes. Because you can’t really feel your real stomach. So this is a subconscious psychological reaction, which means your mind is very attuned to the virtual world. That your mind believes the world you are in now, the form that you are taking, is real.” “That’s nice.”
“Take some time and get adjusted to being there.”
Dalton did as Hammond instructed. More than free-fall parachuting, it reminded him of scuba diving at night, when there was no way to determine which way was up. Neutral buoyancy in the netherworld; Dalton found that concept interesting. He looked about, but everything was the same grayish mist. He had no idea if he was seeing fifty meters into it or ten. He put a hand in front of his face, but all that was there was the stick arm of the avatar. He had no idea where he was either.
“Now we will teach you how to fly,” Hammond said. “Fly?”
“How else do you think you will be able to get around?” Hammond asked. “Although possible, it is very hard to jump with just your mind, especially on your first time. It is much easier using the avatar form.”
“All right,” Dalton said. “How do I fly?”
“With your wings, of course.”
Dalton’s stick arms transformed into two wide wings, white feathers glistening. “Sweet Lord,” Dalton whispered. He swept them down and felt himself lift. He swooped, tried to turn and felt himself lose control, before regaining his balance. He looked down. He still had the stick figure he’d originally had, but the wings had replaced his arms.
A black level space appeared ahead.
“I’ve had Sybyl make a place for you to stand, ” Hammond said. “We must work on the rest of your avatar. I’m passing you to Sybyl for training.”
Dalton landed on the black plane. His felt his “feet” sink into the surface slightly.
“I will show you the various forms we have computer generated, ” Hammond said. “You must pick the one you prefer in accordance with your own physical shape and size.”
Dalton watched as a series of forms appeared in front of him. All were man-shaped, but there were a number of subtle differences among them, ranging from the basic size to the lengths of the arms and legs. One of the forms was moved out in front of the others.
“The data indicates this would be the best fit, as it most closely approximates your own body shape,” Hammond said.
The form was featureless, the skin a pure white. The eyes were two black spots on the face. There was no mouth or nose. Dalton assumed that Sybyl had the form that way because there would be no need for mouth or nose in the virtual plane, but he wondered what they would look like when they came out into the real plane. He saw a certain advantage to not having an entirely human appearance in such a situation.
“Will I be visible in the real plane?” Dalton wanted to check what Raisor had told him. “You will cause a disturbance in the electromagnetic spectrum,” Hammond said. “Despite the fact that the human eye does not see into that spectrum, we have noted that people in the real plane do sense something when an avatar materializes.
“You also will have the option to add color and pattern to your form if you have a need for your form to be seen.”
The form in front of him disappeared. Dalton felt a wave of something pass through him, and he staggered back. When he looked down, he now had the form that Sybyl had built.
He looked down at his hands, spreading the fingers, flexing them. His movements felt smoother than they had in stick form. He walked around. He felt like he had shed thirty years. His body— avatar— felt alive and vibrant. And powerful. He reached his smooth hands up, stretching. He slid one leg out in front of the other and did the basic first kata of aikido that he had learned in the Trojan Warrior training. At first he had some difficulty, but he tried again and again, until the arms and legs began functioning smoothly, without conscious thought. He worked his way through the eight katas up to black belt level before he felt satisfied.
“Weapons?” he asked.
There was a tingle in Dalton’s right arm. He looked down, watching the forearm and hand dissolve into a tube about three feet long from the elbow joint.
“Aim and fire,” Hammond said.
A target silhouette appeared about thirty feet away.
Dalton extended his arm, then paused. “How do I fire?”
“Think it and it will happen,” Hammond said. “Think about making a fist with the arm that is now the weapon. Aiming is easy as you will see a thin red dot on the aim point of your weapon much like a laser sight.”
Dalton focused. He saw the red dot, moved it on target. He sent the impulse to clench his nonexistent fist, and he felt a slight recoil in the arm/weapon. A glowing ball raced toward the silhouette and hit. The target shattered.
Several more silhouettes popped up. Dalton fired.
He found the tube to be extremely easy to aim— it was like pointing his arm, and the red aiming dot was dead on with where the round hit. But he was disturbed by the lag between aiming and firing. He found himself pointing at a target and waiting as the power built up to firing level. It took about two seconds between each firing, an eternity in combat in Dalton’s experience.
“The rate of firing is dependent on power?” Dalton checked. “Yes.”
“Give me minimum power to kill a man with a shot to the head.”
There was a short pause, then Hammond responded. “Done.”
Dalton fired at the array of silhouettes, moving at the same time, diving to his right, rolling. Coming to his knees and continuing to fire. This lower power setting was better, firing with what Dalton estimated was slightly more than a second between each shot. The accuracy was superb, as Dalton placed each power ball into the head of each silhouette.
“Can you equip my team with an array of power settings?” Dalton asked. “I want most of them able to fire this rapidly, but I want others firing on the stronger setting.”
“I can have Sybyl do that.”
“If you decrease rate and increase power,” Dalton wanted to know, “can you also fire a spread of balls?”
“At the same time?” Hammond asked. “Like a shotgun shell,” Dalton said. “Yes.”
“I also want some of my men to be armed with a focused, powerful shot that can punch through armor.”
“I can program that also.”
Dalton concentrated and the tube shrunk, dissolving into his avatar arm once more.
“What about the wings?” he asked. “If you are ready, you can change your arms to the wings. Just concentrate like you did with the power tube.”
Dalton paused, closing his eyes. He concentrated; his arms felt like he was flexing the shoulder muscles. When he opened his eyes, he had the wings back.
“Where would you like to go?” Hammond asked. “I must keep you within a certain area in the virtual world until you are more proficient. Consider the borders of the state of Colorado as your current limits. Where would you like to go in Colorado?”