The Light of Other Days. Stephen Baxter

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       CHAPTER 2 The Mind'sEye

      As Kate was driven into the grounds, it struck her as a typical Seattle setting: green hills that lapped right down to the ocean, framed under a grey, lowering autumn sky.

      But Hiram's mansion – a giant geodesic dome, all windows – looked as if it had just landed on the hillside, one of the ugliest, most gaudy buildings Kate had ever seen.

      On arrival she handed her coat to a drone. Her identity was scanned – not just a reading of her implants but also, probably, pattern-matching to identify her face, even a non-intrusive DNA sequencing, all done in seconds. Then she was ushered inside by Hiram's robot servants.

      Hiram was working. She wasn't surprised. The six months since the launch of his wormhole DataPipe technology had been his busiest, and OurWorld's most successful, ever, according to the analysts. But he'd be back in time for dinner, said the drone.

      So she was taken to Bobby.

      The room was large, the temperature neutral, the walls as smooth and featureless as an eggshell. The light was low, the sound anechoic, deadened. The only furniture was a number of reclined black-leather couches. Beside each of the couches was a small table with a water spigot and a stand for intravenous feeds.

      And here was Bobby Patterson, presumably one of the richest, most powerful young men on the planet, lying alone on a couch in the dark, eyes open but unfocused, limbs limp. There was a metal band around his temples.

      She sat on a couch beside Bobby and studied him. She could see he was breathing, slowly, and the intravenous feed he'd fitted to a socket in his arm was gently supplying his neglected body.

      He was dressed in loose black shirt and shorts. His body, revealed where the loose clothing lay against his skin, was a slab of muscle. But that didn't tell much about his lifestyle; such body sculpting could now be achieved easily through hormone treatments and electrical stimulation. He could even do that while he was lying here, she thought, like a coma victim lying in a hospital bed.

      There was a trace of drool at the corner of his parted lips. She wiped the drool away with a forefinger, and gently pushed the mouth closed.

      ‘Thank you.’

      She turned, startled. Bobby – another Bobby, identically dressed to the first – was standing beside her, grinning. Irritated, she threw a punch at his stomach. Her fist, of course, passed straight through him. He didn't flinch.

      ‘You can see me, then,’ he said.

      ‘I see you.’

      ‘You have retinal and cochlear implants. Yes? This room is designed to produce virtuals compatible with all recent generations of CNS-augment technology. Of course, to me you're sitting on the back of a mean-looking phytosaur.’

      ‘A what?’

      ‘A Triassic crocodile. Which is beginning to notice you're there. Welcome, Ms Manzoni.’

      ‘Kate.’

      ‘Yes. I'm glad you took up my, our, dinner invitation. Although I didn't expect it would take you six months to respond.’

      She shrugged. ‘Hiram Gets Even Richer really isn't much of a story.’

      ‘Umm. Which implies you've now heard something new.’ Of course he was right; Kate said nothing. ‘Or,’ he went on, ‘perhaps you finally succumbed to my charming smile.’

      ‘Perhaps I would if your mouth wasn't laced with drool.’

      Bobby looked down at his own unconscious form. ‘Vanity? We should care how we look even when we're exploring a virtual world?’ He frowned. ‘Of course, if you're right, it's something for my marketing people to think about.’

      ‘Your marketing people?’

      ‘Sure.’ He ‘picked up’ a metal headband from a couch near him; a virtual copy of the object separated from the real thing, which remained on the couch. ‘This is the Mind'sEye. OurWorld's newest VR technology. Do you want to try it?’

      ‘Not really.’

      He studied her. ‘You're hardly a VR virgin, Kate. Your sensory implants –’

      ‘– are pretty much the minimum required to get around in the modern world. Have you ever tried getting through SeaTac Airport without VR capabilities?’

      He laughed. ‘Actually I'm generally escorted through. I suppose you think it's all part of a giant corporate conspiracy.’

      ‘Of course it is. The technological invasion of our homes and cars and workplaces long ago reached saturation point. Now they are coming for our bodies.’

      ‘How angry you are.’ He held up the headband. It was an oddly recursive moment, she thought absently, a virtual copy of Bobby holding a virtual copy of a virtual generator. ‘But this is different. Try it. Take a trip with me.’

      She hesitated – but then, feeling she was being churlish, she agreed; she was a guest here after all. But she turned down his offer of an intravenous feed. ‘We'll just take a look around and come back out before our bodies fall apart. Agreed?’

      ‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘Pick a couch. Just fit the headset over your temples, like this.’ Carefully he raised the virtual set over his head. His face, intent, was undeniably beautiful, she thought; he looked like Christ with the crown of thorns.

      She lay down on a couch nearby and lifted a Mind'sEye headband onto her own head. It had warmth and elasticity, and when she pulled it down past her hair it seemed to nestle into place.

      Her scalp, under the band, СКАЧАТЬ