Virtuality

by H. L. Wegley

  The representative from Illinois stared down at a notepad on his desk and frowned. “Do you mean you could even give someone the experience of being shot?”

  “Yes,” Jess said. “But we would be treading onto ethical turf if we did that.”

  “How so, Ms. Jamison?”

  “Can I shoot you, sir, and record the response of your nervous system?”

  “Point taken.”

  “But there’s more, congressman. Do you have a son, sir?”

  “Yes. He’s sixteen. But I’m the one asking the questions here.”

  She needed to ignore his remark and press on, or her issue might never be heard. “Which would you prefer that your sixteen-year-old son do, play the role of a Special Forces soldier on his Xbox, or virtually experience a visit to a brothel in Southeast Asia?”

  The congressman didn’t reply.

  “If this technology is leaked into the commercial market, companies like LACO and MMI will take your son to any place he wants to—”

  “You’ve made your point, Ms. Jamison,” Chairman Wells said.

  The room buzzed with conversations between committee members.

  “The room will come to order, now!” Wells boomed in his voice of authority as he rapped his gavel.

  “Mr. Chairman?” Jess tried to draw his attention while the murmuring subsided in the meeting room.

  The chairman’s bushy eyebrows pinched until they touched. “As the representative from Illinois said, the committee asks the questions and you provide the answers. Not vice versa.”

  “But, sir, we haven’t even gotten to the worst part of this technology yet, the deep brain stimulation.”

  “And you weren’t asked about it, were you Ms. Jamison?”

  The chairman had asked her a question … “No, sir. I wasn’t asked about it, but Vince van Gordon can tell you—”

  “And you are out of order, Ms. Jamison. You will cease speaking out until we ask—”

  “But you did ask a question. You asked if I was asked.”

  Wells blew out a blast of frustration. “May I remind you that there were potential criminal activities involved and, therefore, this testimony is being taken much like in a court of law. You will follow—”

  Jess threw up her hands in surrender.

  Vince leaned her way. “Watch it, Jess. In a court, they consider certain body language as speech.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “From my novel research.”

  “Mr. van Gordon, since you seem so eager to talk …” Wells motioned to the audience of committee members. “Do you have questions for this witness?”

  Four committee members tried to talk at once.

  “We will start with the representative from Arizona,” the committee chair said.

  A nicely preserved, middle-aged woman with dark hair adjusted the microphone in front of her. “This may answer some of the questions several of my colleagues were anxious to ask. Mr. van Gordon, you’re the only person here today who has seen the Virtuality lab functioning before it was shut down. Tell us what you saw.”

  Vince told of his difficulty getting access to the lab. Though he was uncleared, he admitted entering the lab, because he knew things had gone dreadfully wrong.

  When Vince told about seeing Walker in the lab, the congresswoman from Arizona wrote furiously for a few seconds. “Mr. van Gordon, what is your understanding of what you saw happening at the back of the lab—the man you said was lying on the floor.”

  “This dude, uh man—I will withhold his name unless it becomes relevant to the hearing.”

  “It is not relevant at this time. Go ahead,” Chairman Wells said.

  “He wore a nerve-activated bodysuit and virtual reality goggles attached to a headset modified for deep brain stimulation. The software he ran—call it a video game if you like—was written to play out his personal fantasies and, while doing so, it stimulated the pleasure center of his brain more effectively than any drug can do.”

  The congresswoman stopped writing and looked up at Vince. “Is that a medical fact, or your opinion, Mr. Van Gordon?”

  “Neither. It is a medical opinion which is currently being validated in a research facility. Shall I give you the name of the facility and the chief scientist conducting the—”

  “That won’t be necessary at this time,” she said. “Please continue.”

  “What I gave you is the preliminary conclusion from that research. Does that answer your question?”

  “Yes, it does.” The congresswoman glanced down at a notepad. “But you look like you wanted to say more on this matter. If it will help to clarify the alleged danger of the technology, please enlighten us.”

  “To provide a clear picture of what was transpiring in the lab, please watch this video clip. May I, Mr. Chairman?” Vince pointed to the big flat screen monitor at the front of the committee meeting room.

  “I've already given you permission. Proceed, Mr. van Gordon.”

  Vince was the hothead, not Jess. But he seemed to be keeping his cool far better than she had.

  An official handed Vince his cell, which had been held for him after entry into the meeting room. Vince linked it to the monitor via Bluetooth. In a few seconds, a black-and-white video filled the screen.

  “Some of you may remember seeing this video in Psychology 101. It’s been around since the ‘50s. This is the rat with an electrode plugged into the pleasure center of his brain. Once the rat learned that pushing the lever stimulated his brain, he pushed it again and again and again … if no one interfered, he would push it repeatedly until he died. No cares about eating, drinking, socializing with other rats. Nothing could compete with the ultimate addiction of raw, euphoric pleasure. Can you imagine if a million, two million, perhaps fifty million Americans were so hopelessly addicted?” Vince stopped, and Jess watched as his gaze swept the room. “I see that some of you can. And, after the point Ms. Jamison made, you can see why this technology must be banned from everything except the practice of medicine and perhaps the military. It must not, under any circumstances, be allowed into anything like video games.”

  Vince disconnected his phone from the monitor and handed it back to the man who had held it.

  There was silence in the room for several seconds.

  Jess wanted to hug Vince, but that wouldn’t be appropriate during this meeting. Instead, she took his hand when he sat down.

  He looked at her and shrugged.

  Didn't he know? In his simple explanation and video, Vince had knocked it out of the park.

  The silence was broken by a snort of derision.

  Evidently, someone thought Vince’s home run was a long foul ball.

  Jess looked up at the committee members.

  The snort had come from the congressman from Illinois. “Lab rats are not human beings. And you can’t—”

  “Sir, the significance of that experiment, more than fifty years ago, will not be altered by you or anyone in this room. None of us has the credentials to do that, with the possible exception of Dr. Scoggins.”

  “Well, unless you were the rat, and can tell us what you experienced, I don’t think your silver screen classic is relevant testimony. Do you have anything that is relevant?” The congressman gave Vince a blank stare.

  Jess leaned his way. “Here’s your chance, Vince. This guy is asking for it. Let him have it with both barrels.”

  Vince’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His face looked like he was watching a horror flick.

  “Vince?”

  Chapter 31

  Jess studied Vince’s ashen face when he opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t.

  He always had words, a huge vocabulary of them. Wordsmith Vince van Gordon couldn’t have run out words to say.

  The chairman folded his hands on his desk. “Ms. Jamison is obviously eager to speak. But this question is for you, Mr. van Gordon. Are you going to answer the gentleman from Illinois?”

  “Uh, yeah.” />
  When Vince glanced Jess’s way, the look he gave her was pitiful, like a puppy, tail between its legs, about to be disciplined for disobedience.

  The room remained silent for at least twenty seconds.

  “We’re waiting.” Chairman Wells raised one bushy eyebrow.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “You’ve already told us that. Now, do you have an answer to the congressman’s question or not?” The chairman waited.

  Vince blew out a sigh, but he didn’t speak.

  “You know, you don’t have to incriminate yourself, if that’s what you’re worried about, Mr. van Gordon.”

  “I’ll be incriminating myself, alright.,” Vince muttered as he looked over at Jess.

  “The entire committee needs to hear you. Please speak up,” the chairman said.

  Whatever Vince was about to say, he was certainly trying to avoid it. Heat rose on Jess’s neck. Whatever it was, Vince knew she wouldn’t like it. “Yes, please speak up, Vince.”

  “Ms. Jamison, you will wait your turn. Mr. van Gordon, cut the personal conversation and try to stay focused on the question.”

  Vince’s shoulders slumped. “I have more than the video, sir. I knew that if I didn’t experience this technology for myself, I could never effectively challenge its commercial use.”

  “Are you telling us that you experienced this nerve stimulation technology while you were in the lab?” This time both bushy eyebrows rose.

  Vince looked at Jess, but quickly broke eye contact when her eyes bored into his. “Yes, I did.”

  “What?” Jess clamped a hand on his arm. “What happened to only the truth and nothing in between, Vince?”

  A crack sounded when Wells slammed his gavel down on the block. “Ms. Jamison, one more outburst and you will be removed from these proceedings.”

  Jess nodded and chose not to reply. Vince, however, got her sharpest glare for violation of the vow they’d made as kids. But this might be important testimony. Maybe she should just listen for now and give lop ear an earful later.

  Jess looked down at her notes.

  “Now that we have some semblance of order …” The chairman gave Jess another disapproving frown. “Please tell us what you saw, Mr. van Gordon.”

  “Uh, yeah. What I saw.”

  “You’ve already told us that. Three times.”

  Vince cleared his throat. “Chairman Wells, I entered the lab nearly two days prior to—” Vince stopped when Jess’s head snapped up.

  Something had happened in that lab that Vince believed was shameful. Nothing else could account for his behavior. She needed to listen. But if this went where she thought it was going, Vince might need a kick in the rear like she’d given Patrick.

  “Please continue,” the chairman said.

  “I went alone to Virtuality’s office to confront Patrick Michaels about his negligence in submitting Ms. Jamison’s and my security clearance applications. When I left, a worker entered the lab. I slipped into the lab behind him. No one saw me.”

  Jess bit her tongue but clamped a hand on Vince’s wrist.

  Vince looked at the chairman, obviously trying to ignore her. “I had strong suspicions that certain products under development by Mr. Michaels were not part of Virtuality’s deliverables for the Army contract and that taxpayers were paying for products that would be used commercially. The only way to confirm that was for me to experience one of those products.”

  Jess stood glaring down at him. “So it wasn’t the congressman’s sixteen-year-old son who visited the Asian brothel. Vince, I ought to—”

  The chairman rapped his gavel. “Sit down, Ms. Jamison!”

  Jess huffed a sigh. It didn’t calm her. Thinking about what Vince might have seen and experienced—she couldn’t let her mind go there. Jess took her seat.

  “I’m going to be generous and call a fifteen-minute recess in this hearing …” He gave Jess a laser look from beneath his bushy eyebrows, “… instead of having you escorted out, Ms. Jamison. Please resolve your personal issues. We will continue in fifteen minutes … with or without you.”

  Jess curled a hand around Vince’s neck and pulled his face in front of hers. “Why am I just hearing about this now, lop ear?”

  “Jess, you promised you wouldn’t—”

  “Whimpering will get you nowhere. Now, tell me what you saw and what you did. Own up to it like a man, not a wimp like Patrick.”

  Vince described the equipment and what parts of it he had put on. Then he described what he’d seen after pushing the play button.

  He described a tropical setting that sounded sensuous and alluring, while Jess rehearsed her kick to Patrick’s posterior.

  But one thing was obvious. The details Vince had provided so far could only be produced by virtual reality augmented by remote nerve stimulation. Regardless of what he had seen, Vince had gotten the goods on Patrick.

  “Jess, there was a woman walking through that pool of water. And when that babe in the swimming suit put her arms around me, I ripped off my goggles—”

  “Babe? Don’t you mean strange woman?”

  “No, Jess. She was a babe … in a bikini.”

  Why was she so angry? Jealousy? Yes! And Vince would pay for his transgression. “If she was a babe, what am I, Vince van Gordon?”

  Vince put his hands on her shoulders, looked into her eyes, and coaxed her closer to him. “If that had been you walking through the water, hands reaching out to me, Jess, I … I couldn’t have taken those goggles off.”

  All of Jess’s anger melted.

  Vince, the wordsmith, had defused her with a single sentence.

  She studied his face, peered into his eyes and, for the first time, realized that Jess had all three things she wanted from Vince. Or she soon would have—friend, wife, and lover.

  It was time to let Vince tell his story to the committee without her boiling over and getting thrown out of the hearing.

  But Vince had transgressed, so one question remained. Jess stared at the side of his head beside her. What would it be like to be married to a man with no ears?

  As quickly as it had come, Jess evicted that thought from her mind. She had no more use for van Gogh. He was van gone.

  After the break, Jess sat beside Vince while he completed his somewhat sensual description of the virtual reality session. “The entire time I experienced this encounter and, even though in real life it would have been wrong, it didn’t feel wrong.”

  Mr. Fighting Illini stood, with an adversarial look. “What do you mean it didn’t feel wrong? Are you telling us that—”

  “What I’m telling you, sir, is that my brain was being bombarded with ultrasonic pulses stimulating the pleasure center. It’s called remote brain stimulation. Everything felt good and right even though, intellectually, I knew it wasn’t. But the intellectual part just didn’t matter. I was on an endorphin-induced high … euphoria. And that’s only part of what the ultrasonic pulses can do.

  “The greatest danger to us is that remote brain stimulation can produce the same high as street drugs without most of the adverse health impacts. No needles. No eroded, bleeding nasal passages. No track marks on a person’s body. No tweaker face or rotting teeth. But, when combined with virtual reality, remote brain stimulation creates an addictiveness unmatched by anything we know.”

  Vince paused. “Knowing what I have told you—an eye-witness account—how can you ever let this technology be commercialized in our society? Combine it with virtual reality and remote nerve stimulation, and you can give a person their own fantasy world that’s as real as, and for many people preferable to, reality. Turn this loose on American society and people will drop out in droves. The work force will be decimated. Then, when everyone’s hooked, and you no longer have the software developers and engineers to produce the technology, you’ll see violence, because people can’t have access to what they’re addicted to.”

  Vince stopped and scanned each face in the room. “You, ladies and gentleme
n, are the gatekeepers, the sentries on the wall of America’s fortress. You are those elected to ensure domestic tranquility and promote the general welfare. So, as you swore to do when you took office … do your duty.”

  It grew quiet in the meeting room. Not a word. So quiet that when someone coughed it sounded like an explosion. Even the snarky congressman from Illinois sat, silently. No more ogling.

  Once again, Jess wanted to hug Vince. That wouldn’t be appropriate, but she did it anyway. It was a quick hug, then she slid back into her chair.

  Again, he looked at her and shrugged.

  Vince had hit back-to-back home runs. Didn’t he realize that?

  Jess smiled. Not just any smile. With her lips stretched this tight, it had to be ear-to-ear. And it came because the woven fabric of her life had flipped over in Jess’s mind, revealing the front side of the tapestry, an incredible design that only a good God could weave.

  Somehow, the design had included their seven years of separation, Paul’s death, and more danger in the last few weeks than Jess had ever experienced in her life. Her agony of defeat had become the thrill of victory, not only for Jess, but for American society. And then life-changing love had been woven into the design.

  As C. S. Lewis wrote, God wasn’t always safe, but He was always good.

  Vince looked at her again, a puzzled frown wrinkling his forehead.

  He hadn’t gotten it yet. Maybe he never would. But Paul had been right all along. He had known why Vince should be the person to take the helm at Virtuality. And Jess had just witnessed part of that reason in action.

  A monumental battle would come, as Paul had anticipated, a war to determine if Virtuality’s technology should be given license or kept secret, tucked away in the corners of America’s technological and medical infrastructure, where it could do no harm. During that battle, the government needed to fulfill its role of protecting the people as it had been commissioned and empowered by the U.S. Constitution.