“Talk to me, James,” Jim said. “I’m feeling really guilty right now.”
“I’m recovering,” I said, blowing my nose. “That was amazing!”
“It was that.”
“How do people handle that much information at once?” I wondered. “It was overwhelming!”
“Well, if you practice since birth, you get pretty good at it,” Jim observed.
“How does the helmet make that connection, anyway?”
“Beats me,” Jim said, humor creeping back into his tone. “That’s a hardware problem. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just thinking really hard. The potential of that gizmo is starting to sink in.”
“Like what?”
“Well, basically, if the virtual reality helmet bypasses the optic nerve so easily, why should I be content with the cyberworld? Why shouldn’t I buy my own helmet and a video camera, adapt the camera’s output to be compatible with the helmet, and be able to see the real world whenever I want?”
There was an amazed pause, and then an explosive exhale. “Wow! James, that’s brilliant! The simplicity of true genius!”
“I don’t even think it would be too difficult to rig up,” I continued modestly. “After all, the helmet is already doing the hard stuff.”
“Well,” he said, “I’m very impressed. I think you’ve got something revolutionary here.”
“So do I.”
I threw myself into my research, and time seemed to fly by. Suddenly, I had too much to do, and it was very pleasant. I had to catch up on my reading list for the book club, and I was competing in the chess tournament in addition to playing Jim for fun. Jim was better than me, but after some practice I could give him a good game.
Jim and I joined SUDS, and the two of us were composing a song to play on kazoos at our inaugural meeting.
And most of all, there was Rachel. I didn’t have to force myself to be cheery around her anymore, and found that I could actually carry on a conversation. We took little walks together, talking comfortably.
Was she just doing her job? Was there more? I didn’t know.
I devoured technical pieces about virtual reality, and also investigated the outputs of video cameras. I’d owned a talking computer for years, and I accessed the Library of Congress through the Net. The technology used in the helmets was about a year old, so the technical and scientific magazines had plenty of articles on them. I also posted a few requests for information on the Net, and had some very instructive conversations with the people who responded. Eventually, I considered myself an expert.
“What I have to develop is a signal converter,” I said enthusiastically to Vera and her horrid family when we met for lunch one day. They sat stunned as I chattered on excitedly about the project. “The video camera uses a memory chip that has a digital output, and I have to develop an algorithm to interlace with the virtual reality helmet. I’m looking into the super scaler processors, because nothing else is fast enough to handle the volume of information coming from the camera. I still don’t know how the helmet converts the signals into a neural pulse, but it doesn’t matter. I just have to get the video signal into the helmet in a form it understands.”
Kenny shifted in his seat and sighed deeply.
“That reminds me,” Vera said brightly. “Ken is thinking about giving community college another try, and we were wondering if he could borrow some of your more basic software materials. You know, manuals, basic how-to books or articles, that kind of thing.”
“Sure,” I said expansively. With how my life was improving, I could even be generous with Kenny. “I’ll pull some stuff together for you, have it ready early next week. Stop by anytime and pick it up.”
“Thanks,” Kenny grunted.
“No problem,” I said, grinning. “Say, Vera, there’s this new Italian restaurant a ways from here that people say is good. What do you say we check it out?” I had met Vera alone a couple of times, and it was amazing how much more I’d enjoyed it.
That evening, after Jim Lebrer, I headed down to the retirement center’s library to pick up some basic computer books for Kenny. I took a side hall. It was a carryover from my old days when I took it to avoid people, but now I still used it because I was familiar with it. Hardly anyone else ever walked along it, because the only rooms connected to it were the storage areas.
As I passed one of the storage rooms, I heard a faint noise from inside. It sounded like a distressed voice, so I stopped to listen. It came again, and this time I recognized it as Rachel’s voice. I got a shock of adrenaline, and opened the door. In the back of the room, I heard a scuffle.
“Rachel?” I called. “Is everything OK?”
“Jim!” Rachel’s voice came harsh and desperate. “Help me! Please!”
I hurried into the room. “What’s going on?”
A man’s voice—one of the guys who moved Jim’s stuff—interrupted. “Get lost, blind boy. This doesn’t concern you.” There was the sound of more scuffling.
I moved swiftly toward the sound, heart pounding. “Let her go! Now!” I stopped halfway into the room, unsure what to do.
“Who’s gonna make me?” the man sneered. “You??”
“Jim!” Rachel’s voice, beseeching. “Please!”
I thought wildly. I couldn’t fight someone who could see. I could go get help, but who knew how badly he could hurt Rachel in the meantime? I certainly wasn’t going to leave. “Let her go,” I said again.
“Fuck off.”
I’d have to fight him. He’d mop up the floor with me. He might even kill me. He’d certainly hurt me real bad, but it would get him away from Rachel. It would buy her time to get away, get some help. There wasn’t anything else to do.
I swallowed with difficulty, fighting down the fear, and started to move toward him.
There was a movement behind me, and then a voice.
“I’m here, James.”
Relief flooded over me in a physical wave. “He’s got Rachel,” I told Jim.
“Then let’s get him,” Jim said. “You go to his left, I’ll go to his right.”
“Got it.” I began moving in.
“Back off,” the guy warned.
“Remember what the judo instructor said, James,” Jim called as he moved to the guy’s right. “No killing, remember? Just use those maiming moves.”
“You’re right,” I said, catching onto his bluff. “Just take out his eyes.”
“But first,” Jim said, pausing, “let’s take out the lights!” I heard a click, and the room must have gone dark.
“Stay away from me!” the guy bellowed. “I’m warning you!”
“Listen to the poor bastard,” Jim said to me. “In the dark, he’s blind!”
“Yeah, but he can’t track movement,” I said.
There was the sound of a quick scuffle, and then the guy screamed. I charged forward, hearing Jim do the same. Following the guy’s cries of pain, we reached him at the same time and found that he was on his knees.
Jim had him by the torso, and twisted the guy’s arm behind his back. “Get his head!” he yelled.
I grabbed the guy’s neck, and then had an inspiration. I pressed two fingers against the tops of his eyes. “Try anything, and you’ll never see the light of day again!” I hissed into his ear.
The guy went limp, moaning in pain.
“I kneed him in the groin,” Rachel said, her voice shaking badly. “Hold onto him. I’ll go get security.”
We listened as she stumbled out of the room, and heard her calling for help as she reached the hall.
“Well, I’ll be dipped,” Jim observed. “She didn’t need us at all.”
“We distracted him,” I objected. “We gave her the chance she needed.”
“You distracted him,” Jim corrected. “I was just along for the ride.”