Хэнк Грин - A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor

I filed it away for the future, though, because we had just arrived at our destination. Enticingly, the door read “Demo Room.”

“OK, you’ve all been offered positions at Altus,” Marigold pronounced boldly, producing three clipboards from a table behind him. “These are your employment contracts. They say that you cannot leave this campus for the next twelve months. Not this island, this campus. You cannot contact anyone at home other than to say you’re doing fine in 450 characters or less a maximum of two times per week. All of your emails will be read by Altus security, and they are not joking around. Hidden characters, they look for them. Images, not allowed at all. Codes embedded in your email, not possible because of the character limit, but analyzed by a code-detecting AI nonetheless. If you sign this contract, you agree to that. You also agree that anything you discover while working here is the intellectual property of Altus. And you promise that you will not tell anyone ever about what goes on here. Forever. You have to sign this paper to go into that room … but you will not truly be Altus staff until you go into that room.”

“But, they said they were just flying us out here for an interview and we’d be going home,” I said.

Marigold looked at me and smiled. “They liiiied.”

It was still possible that this was a mistake. I had been certain just an hour before that I was going to be on a plane home, and the only people who had told me otherwise were a couple twenty-somethings who were acting significantly under their age. Knowing that I might have just slipped through the cracks, and with every intent to violate it, I signed the contract.

“OK, this is where we leave you. See you in a few, when your whole goddamn world has changed.”

Sippy and Peanut stood a little behind me as I reached for the knob. Heart thumping and head swimming, I pulled the door open and the guys slipped in behind me. I was somewhat surprised to find a woman in there. Neat, flat, chin-length blond hair fell around her round face.

“I’m Dr. Rhode, you can call me Claire.”

The room was white and windowless and sterile-looking except, of course, for the six cloth-upholstered La-Z-Boy recliners that ran through the middle of the room.

“Recliners?” Peanut asked.

“They’re significantly less expensive and also quite a bit more comfortable than medical-grade adjustable beds,” she said, efficiently answering every question I could possibly have had on the topic.

On one side of each chair was a simple monitoring station for blood oxygen, blood pressure, and heart rate. On the other side was a desktop computer tower with a VR rig sitting on top.

“The procedure here is very simple. Sit in chairs one, two, and three, please.” She sounded like she was following a well-trod script.

It took us all a second to realize she was already telling us to do stuff, but then she said “Please” again but more firmly, and we all scrambled into one of the first three chairs.

Dr. Claire Rhode helped us slip on blood pressure cuffs and O 2monitors.

“Place the headset over your eyes. There will be a test image. Adjust it until it is in focus and then give me a thumbs-up.”

I looked over and watched as Peanut took off his wool hat and smoothed back his brown hair. He adjusted straps and knobs like he had put on a lot of VR headsets in his life. I had not put on a lot of VR headsets. Dr. Rhode came to help with mine.

Once the headset was on, I could see a simple crosshairs design in the middle distance. I gave my thumbs-up.

“Now, stare directly at the crosshairs. Images will begin appearing, but don’t look away from the crosshairs.”

Images began appearing … if you could call them that. Swirls of color like on the surface of a bubble, but more saturated and variable and vibrant. They escalated in complexity, from simple food coloring in milk to dramatic sweeping loops and twists in three dimensions. Of course, I couldn’t really see them that well because I was staring at the crosshairs, trying hard not to look away and follow the shapes.

And then, suddenly, the shapes disappeared and I was in an empty field of perfect white nothingness, but it wasn’t VR anymore.

I couldn’t hear anything, or feel anything, or sense anything. The pressure of my back against the chair had vanished. The feeling of wearing the VR rig was gone. My tongue in my mouth, the air on my skin, the breath in my lungs—nothing. My mind was there, though, and it was starting to panic. There was nothing to latch onto. Mind without body. Mind without body!

“You’re now in the Altus Space.” Dr. Claire Rhode’s voice suddenly existed, and it rang clear and true without the reverb of the room.

“Many people find this very disorienting or even upsetting. You may feel like you are going to be stuck here. Rest assured, you are not.” Her tone was strong and calm, like a meditation app. “Your bodies are right here with me. I can see them. No one has ever gotten stuck in the Altus Space. It is impossible to get stuck in the Altus Space. If you want to leave the Space, all you have to do is say ‘Exit.’

“We are now going to introduce objects to the Space.”

Ahead of me, a table appeared. It did not look like a VR table. It looked like a table.

“OK, everything has gone according to plan,” Dr. Rhode’s voice said. “Now we will give you a body. If you experience any negative sensation, remember, all you have to do is say ‘Exit.’ ”

Suddenly, weight returned to my limbs. I looked down and saw myself. Nude. “Can I have some clothes?” I asked, but she did not respond.

“Please remain calm. If you are experiencing a negative sensation, please just say ‘Exit.’ ” Her voice sounded less calm. I was not experiencing what I would call a negative sensation. I just felt slightly cold and very naked.

“OK. Well.” She was definitely less calm now. “We’re going to have to take a break. I’m bringing you out of the Space now.”

With the softest blink, I was back in the chair with my black-target-on-white-background VR headset on. I have absolutely nothing I can compare this sensation to. Teleportation, I guess, though that is also not something you’ve experienced.

As my mind realized it was back in the real world, it identified a noise—a kind of gasping weeping. I tore off my headset and blood pressure cuff and ran over to Paxton, who was sitting with his legs hanging over the chair, looking down at a pile of vomit.

Dr. Rhode held me back as she knelt down to Paxton, talking to him softly: “Sometimes the body still does not mesh correctly with the consciousness’s position, and it is extremely unsettling. It is rare, but it does happen.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s unsettling’?” I asked, wanting more data.

She ignored me.

“Paxton, what you saw and felt was not real. You’ll be fine. You still have a job here. It’s no reflection on you. You have seen how powerful Altus is, and that is all the demo space is for.”

I came up and took his arm, but he ripped it away from me. “Paxton, it’s OK. God, I’m so sorry. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

I turned back to look at Sid, who was green. I was too, probably. Sid whispered to me, “It’s not just what happened, we were talking to some guys last night. Anyone who has this happen never gets in. It will happen every time he tries again. People here have names for people who can’t go in.”

Of course they did.

“I’m so sorry to the two of you as well,” Dr. Rhode said. “It’s usually a magical experience. I keep telling them that we need to do this one at a time, but there just isn’t enough staff time to run single sessions. Nonetheless, you all know now what—”