WetWeb (13 page)

Anand Ramasubramanian boarded the flight in Shanghai heading to San Francisco. 

He felt light.  Light as if his presence on the flight would contribute to the overall aero-dynamics of the airplane.  He settled into his first class pod and slept soundly for many hours.  When he woke, it was dark in the cabin and most of the other passengers were sleeping.  Anand felt energized.  The stewardess brought him dinner
, which
he enjoyed completely.  While he ate, he watched an old style action movie wh
ere the hero blasted away with
gun
s
in
each of his
hands
,
while
at the same time,
crashing through a plate glass window.  For dessert the stewardess brought him strawberry ice cream
with gummy bears
.  He delighted in each fluffy pink bite.

When the old style movie ended
,
Anand asked the stewardess to bring him a glass of whiskey.  It seemed very late.  Anand
figured
he was the only passenger awake in first class and he was enjoying the extra attention from the attractive stewardesses. 

Anand sipped on the gold colored whiskey.  With each sip he allowed the strong whiskey to linger on his tongue.  He savored the smoky flavor. 

The taste of the drink made him think about the slogan they used to advertise Wild West Alive.  The marketing department was emphasizing sensual stimulation that a user could not get with a traditional video game. Before Wild West Alive and RSI, all computer games played over a network were visually oriented.  At Wild West Alive, in addition to controlling a real human host, the player would indulge all of his senses in the fantasy. 

The slogan was,
“Kiss the Saloon girl, taste the whiskey, smell the gun smoke.”

Thinking about this slogan now, Anand realized he had done all three, except Sahdna Singh was no Saloon girl.  Still, using
s
ynaptic derivation he had explored a world that was previously closed to him.  He had opened a door in his personality that he did not know existed.  He was no longer sure who he was, or
was
confident in his place in the world.  He looked out the window and all he could see was darkness.  The land below was obscured by
the
darkness and there were no stars or moon in the sky.  He was unsure how long he had slept, so he had no concept of where the plane was positioned currently
,
relative to Shanghai or San Francisco.  It was easy for him to look out the window into the darkness and imagine that the world he knew
before,
when he landed at Wild West Alive only a few days previously, was no longer below him.   Looking back into the plane, he could only see the dim silhouette of the nearby first class pods.  There were no other passengers in sight.  In his musings, he imagined
he
was now alone on this flight.  A flight that had
departed from the world he knew
and was taking him somewhere else.  He was going to a n
ew world. 
A new world that would
be governed by t
he rules of Synaptic Derivation.
  
A
new world that was envisioned by Chris
topher
Mark and
Al McKnight.
 
A new world that, for better or for worse,
he had helped to create.

Anand sipped on the whiskey and admired its golden color.

Anand began reading a paper that Christopher Mark had forwarded to him while he was networked into RSI systems during his lay-over in Shanghai
, and started reading it. 
The preface was written by Al McKnight.  McKnight delved deeply into his ideas around the application of the Synaptic Derivation between humans and animal hosts. 

Anand sipped lightly on the drink while he read and let the strong flavor linger in his mouth. 

In McKnight’s preface, he described how he envisioned animals as new attractions
in
the
Rome Alive
game that RSI was preparing to launch next summer.  Al McKnight described how a controlling player would Synap into a Tiger host, for example, and then
battle
a human host gladiator in a reproduction of the Coliseum.  The idea of a modern day battle between Tigers and Christians together with McKnight’s enthusiasm for the idea amused Anand.

The body of the paper was a technical treatment on how the Synaptic Interface with an animal could actually be achieved.  It was written by Dr. Sadhna Singh.  It was clear to Anand that she was preparing the document for publication in a scientific journal.  In some places she had made additional notes in the margin where she intended to return to shore up her theories with new data and preliminary testing.  It was dry
,
intensely scientific
,
writing that involved the interruption of neural transmission by the subject animal and the capability of the brain stem interface device to translate the signals from the animal’s brain into something that a human brain could interpret.  As Anand read, he learned that Tigers, and other predators, perceive the world differently from humans. 

Therefore, the brain stem device that they would implant into the
a
nimal host would need to compensate for these differences.  Some of the problems were olfactory differences and feedback from claws and whiskers. 

How the brain stem interface would handle sensory feedback and control of the animal’s tail was a critical discussion point
.  T
he author was not sure how these impulses could be translated by the device into a sensation that could be interpreted by a human brain.

Reading the paper for Anand was like indulging in a second bowl of fluffy pink ice cream.  He consumed the paper
,
phrase by phrase
,
and savored the hand-written notes in the margin.  Notes that we
re written by Sadhna’s own thin
delicate hand.

* * * * *

“Do you think it odd?” Anand asked.

Franklin looked up from his notebook.  Franklin had been writing from the perspective of Anand
,
as Anand was narrating the story.  By writing it in this way, it would be easier to for the feature team to translate Franklins work into a content feature for publication.  But now Anand seemed intent on interrupting their plot line to have a sidebar discussion.

“I had a complete lack of remorse,” Anand clarified
,
  “
If anything
,
I found myself able to enjoy life more than
I
ever
had
before.  I
felt
euphoric.”

“
H
mmm,” Franklin responded
,
not willing to offer a positive or negative response.  He wanted to get back to the narrative as quickly as possible, and so he looked back to the notebook and began vigorously writing again.

“I had lived a strictly moral life
,
” Anand said, “But now, through the use of the
S
ynaptic
I
nterface
T
echnology I had committed every egregious sin starting with adultery
,
and ending with murder.  I had become a bad person,
and
I felt no guilt.  I felt free.  I felt as if the world around me had changed and the old rules no longer applied.”

“What happened when you returned to San Francisco
?
” Franklin asked in an attempt to keep Anand focused on the story
,
“Did the argument inside the gunfight resume?”

“No, no,” Anand said
,
“Quite the opposite.  It was as if the
entire
episode had never happened.  We were right back to business as usual.”

Franklin wrote a few words into his notebook.

“One thing
…,
” Anand continued, “
There is o
ne thing that I do remember about that meeting when I returned to San Francisco.  Now that you ask
,
you just reminded me of it.”

Anand explained,
“When I walked into the offices on the top floor of the RSI Gaming Company, Christopher Mark and Al McKnight were both there
.  T
hey came out of their offices to greet me in person.  I remember
that
I
shook hands with Chris Mark
.  Then I went to shake hands with Al McKnight.  N
ormally
,
he shook with his right hand,
however Al McKnight extended his left hand
, and we shook left handed.  It was a subtle acknowledgement of my skill as a left-handed gunslinger.”

Anand smiled at the memory and then continued
,
“There was no animosity.  After that
,
we were all in it together.”

“Why?” Franklin asked
,
“Why did McKnight do it?”

Anand focused his attention back into the present and looked about the small interview room at the minimum security prison in Pleasanton.  He considered the grey metal table and the cinder block walls.  The overhead fluorescent lights filled the room with an even
,
but colorless light.  From inside this room, it was impossible to tell if it was day or night outside.

“What time is it?” Anand asked
,
“It seems that I have been talking for hours and hours.”

“It is late,” Franklin agreed. 

“To understand the motives behind w
hat happened at Wild West Alive
is another chapter. Shall we continue tomorrow?”  Anand suggested.

“I cannot be here tomorrow,” Franklin said, “I will be back the following day.  We can continue then.”

As Franklin spoke he felt guilt and angst as if he were admitting to a crime
; a
s if he was in a confessional admitting to a sin.  He thought Anand would ask where he was going
.  In reponse,
Franklin
imagined he
would tell him about the death of Blanco and the mysterious appearance of Molly.  He had anticipated this conversation and now it seemed as if it had already happened
- a
s if it was a memory.

Franklin shifted nervously, waiting for the expected interrogatory.  Anand, sensing there was something more Franklin needed to say, waited quietly.

“I am going to the Savant Organic Robotics dealership tomorrow
,
” Franklin concluded, sure that this would prod a strong response.

Again, Anand waited for more information.

Franklin felt he needed to tell his story, to share his misgivings
.

H
e continued
,
“You see, my Warmbot died and the dealership sent over a new model
,
but there must be a mistake.  I never purchased the new one.  I do not understand why they sent it to my house.  I never discussed any test run or trial period with the sales lady.  I also know I cannot afford it
-
anyway.  This is a brand new Warmbot model
;
very perky.  My wife
was
delighted, but
the whole situation
is making me nervous.  I do not understand why it is
there…
in my house.”

Anand remained calm, stoic, still, deadpan.

Frustrated, he could not get a response, Franklin concluded, “OK, see you day after tomorrow then.”

Anand was introspective, and then called
back
to him as he was preparing to leave
,
“This story that I am telling you, that you are writing in your notebook
.”

Franklin looked back at him.

Anand continued, “This is not a pulp feature that you made up.
This is a glimpse into the real world; a world in which you live. 

Franklin continued to look at Anand - confused.

Anand continued,
You
are not the author
.  Y
ou are
‘
In
’
the story.  You are a character, and the final chapter is not yet written.
 
Think about the feature that you are developing in your notebook.  Is it pulp?  Is it content?  For you this feature is part of your history. The WetWeb touche
d
you and all the people around you.  It
was
integrated into your society.  Can you step out of the story and see
-
really see the world around you?”