seeing.’
But there wasn’t anything there —
Ah, but there was, Shell. Not anything solid, tangible, no. But do not confuse the sense of touch with the sense of sight — the identical myriad of varied vibrations of light I just spoke of were there. More accurately, an exact reproduction of them. I hope this much, at least, is clear.
Yeah . . . If you can make light waves, or whatever they are, shoot out of a spot in the air the same way they bounce off a guy, I guess you’d think you were seeing the guy. Even with no guy there.
You have it. Of course, you don’t think you see, you do see. But, all right, that’s enough. Except — do you recall what I said to you yesterday when you were producing sounds from those small Nikola buttons?
Yeah. Vibration, vibration —
Everything is vibration.
I’d just as soon not believe that, even if it’s true.I was thinking of Aralia when I said it. And, in an odd way, I kept thinking about her for a while as Gunnar continued speaking.
Very simply, then, one virtue of the Amber Effect is that it allows the exact three-dimensional reproduction of those patterns and intensities of light vibrations I just spoke of. All that is required is possession and use of the equipment of Norman Amber’s design — and you have now seen what I refer to, for convenience, as the camera, film, and projector.
I had closely examined the three items Gunnar spoke of, but none of it resembled any photographic equipment I’d ever seen before. The film,for example, looked like a solid block of semi-transparent plastic about three inches on a side, with faintly visible curving lines and blobs and squiggles in it.
The camera, or at least the main part of the items that combined to capture the image of whatever was being filmed, at least approximated the appearance of a large television camera. But the projectorlooked more like a Buck Rogers ray gun with a couple of doodads and one dingus attached to it.
Looking at the thing, I said to Gunnar, This is part of the stuff Hauk and Werzen brought to you Wednesday, huh? I suppose that projector there is the only one in existence?
Oh, no, there are a half-dozen more, all slightly different in design, but all based on the identical principles and essentially the same. This particular model is the one Norman demonstrated for the patent examiners in Washington. However, except for the projector units in this room, there are no others in existence, since only Norman Amber was working on this particular approach to the production of three-dimensional images.
He paused, then went on. At least, so far as I am aware. No matter how much creative scientists and inventors may wish it were otherwise, I am inclined to think that each great advance creates itself, so to speak, or at least awaits its own time. Certainly production of three-dimensional images of such remarkable fidelity as these had to await invention of the laser, the hologram, microcircuits, perfection of the transistor and modern computer, and a great many other marvels of modern technology. This three-dimensional aquarium which so impressed you, and its little catfish, when did you see it?
Quite a while back. Sixty-nine, I think.
He nodded. Yes, lasered light reflected from mirrors for the production of holograms was used in the sixties for making three-dimensional still photos. Also the first simple three-D moving pictures which did not have to be projected onto a screen, such as your aquarium, were produced before the sixties ended. Even quite recently, although techniques had improved immensely, the image — a man’s figure, for example — was not free. That is, movement of the astonishingly realistic image was restricted, limited to a few cubic yards of space, in much the same fashion that Hollywood’s previous two-dimensional images were limited to the few square yards of a movie screen. Among other things, what Norman Amber has done is free the three-dimensional image so that it can be projected in any direction to a considerable distance.
Any direction, too, huh? I’m glad you didn’t think of having that — that you I shook hands with walk up in the air at a forty-five-degree angle.
He smiled. My purpose was merely to impress you with the value of what I call the Amber Effect.
You succeeded.
To be accurate, I should explain that though this free image I speak of can be made to appear — be projected — at almost any desired distance from the viewer, the image does not necessarily remain constant in its dimensions. It may, or it may not, depending upon how the operator programs the unit’s computer. For a theater audience, the image would actually be made to grow smaller in order to give the illusion of an individual’s movement to a distant point.
Sure, same deal as with a flat screen,I said.
Exactly. And, in Norman’s patented designs and diagrams, and of course these working models, all is compressed, miniaturized, built in, so that it will be a simple matter to mass-produce portable units the average man might purchase and use, merely by pointing, pushing switches, following simple instructions to produce his own perfect three-dimensional movies should he so wish. Just as he now produces his own two-dimensional photographs and films. But that is only the beginning. I expect, within a few years, the many possible commercial applications will produce a yearly dollar volume of a billion or so.
Quite a number of questions were crowding my mind, but some of them got crowded out by the last thing he’d said, or what I thought he’d said.
Did you say something about volume of a million? You mean bucks? Dollars?
Yes, dollars, commercial gross. But not a million, a billion. Per year.
I opened my mouth, closed it again.
Lindstrom said, You have perhaps not visualized many of the other obvious commercial applications. Such as a wall in a home, with beautiful paintings hanging upon it — exact reproductions of Raphaels or DaVincis if desired — and niches for priceless vases, figurines, jewelry . . . but there is no wall; it is a projection, a picture. Or it could be, not a wall, but a sunlit patio, a forest pool, a stream and splashing waterfall, the only limits are the limitations of our own imaginations.
Yeah . . . You could put some fancy chairs in the corner, just so you didn’t sit in any of them. Only cost you a nickel. Right?
Right.
Or a piano . . . Why, hell, even a few guests — people.
Of course.
Real people, if you didn’t try to carry on a conversation, or make them go oopf.I found the idea increasingly stimulating. I’m beginning to see what you mean, Gunnar, about all the possibilities in this thing.
Not quite all, I think,he said.
Maybe not. But — well, so glad you could come to my pahty, dearie, over there in the corner is the famous movie star Tootsie Tickle. And I’m simply thrilled to goosebumps to introduce the President of the United . . .
I stopped. You know, Gunnar, this could get a little scary.
And we have barely begun, have we not?
Yeah, I guess so. Barely, you said. Barely . . .
Something?
You better believe it.I thought about it a little more. Gunnar,I said, you actually made that brief but astonishingly real and lifelike film of yourself during the time I was alone in your office?
Yes, of course. Making the film required only the half minute or so of actual action. I assume you realize there is no processing necessary, that is to say, no form of film development, since the holographic impression in the cube is made instantaneously. This should not surprise anyone familiar with television’s instant replay. I spent most of my time positioning the laser and cube, which were already connected to the unit’s power source — what we refer to as the projector — to ensure that my image appeared where it would be most effectively presented to you. And in estimating the minutes that would elapse before you entered the laboratory, so I could time our arrival here moments before appearance of my image.
Hence, your stopwatch.
Yes.
And sending me to pick up the watch, so you could sneak in here, and sneakily hide.
Yes. This is all extremely elementary.
&
nbsp; Now it is. But how elementary would a moon shot have been to the Wright brothers? You have to think of me, for a while yet, as one of the brothers, not an astronaut.
I believe I can do that.
But I did think of a couple . . . Yeah, barely. That was it. Bare —
Of course. I should have perceived the reason for your preoccupation before now. Indeed, instantly.
Oh?
Pornography. Perfectly lifelike, and life-size, three-dimensional flesh-and-blood — so long as you merely watch them — individuals furiously coupling, and perhaps even tripling or quadrupling, before your interested gaze. Not on a flat screen in two dimensions, but big as life and quite as real, in living, loving color — right there squirming in your living room, even bedroom, kitchen —
Well, I wouldn’t go quite —
That is what you were wondering, is it not? The new realism and thus improvement of vicarious titillation that will be afforded by the inevitable emergence of such 3-D pornographic films?
Well, that did sort of brush my — yes.
Unquestionably, the market for pornographic films, large even now, will become huge in a very short time. As I said, even a minimum of thought provides many, many additional insights into areas of vast potential.
I was getting several insights. Among them, the desirability of my asking a couple of questions of the lovely Aralia, and sensible detective-type questions they were — but the simultaneous thought of 3-D movies and Miss Naked California was almost too much all at once.
So I pushed that out of my mind, mentally groping for something else that moments ago had been in it.
Gunnar, I’ve got to take off. I’d like to hear more about all this, but later. You did say something, though. . . . Yeah, a comment about Amber’s patented designs? You’ve mentioned the several ideas and gizmos of his that were turned over to you Wednesday. Are they patented?
Everything I have alluded to under the embracing term the Amber Effect is. Norman applied for patent protection nearly a year and a half ago, his application was allowed, the Letters Patent was issued this past July in Norman Amber’s name. But none of the other processes or inventions I mentioned have patent protection, with one small exception.
What’s the exception?
A strange new film emulsion, containing a surprising amount of the element mercury — of little importance just now, really. I could instruct you more fully, but it is quite technical. . . .
So forget it. I have to get going, Gunnar, but I’ll keep you informed.
Please do. I did wish to discuss further my intention to reward you, if all goes as well as I hope, with a payment in the amount of one hundred thousand —
It’s a little soon to talk about that much money, Gunnar. Besides, even if we made a deal, my usual fee is a hundred bucks a day and expenses.
This, however, is an unusual situation. With enormous amounts of money involved. More important to me, there is my now-resurgent hope that I may yet reclaim my life, be able to call it my own once more.
I’ll work on it.I grinned at him. Maybe we’ll work on it together.
Then I waved a finger at Gunnar, and took off.
To see Miss Naked California.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHEN I let myself into my apartment, Aralia was sitting on the chocolate-brown divan, legs tucked underneath her, reading a book and taking a bite but of an apple.
She was wearing a bright print dress, and apparently not much else. A pair of low-heeled shoes rested on the carpet near where she was curled up on the divan.
As I entered we exchanged exuberant hellos, and what have you been doings, and then she said, You told me not to go out, so I’ve eaten almost everything in the refrigerator. This is the last apple.
That’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Aralia,I said, joining her on the divan.
The last apple?She smiled in a way I had come to know. Like Adam and Eve’s?
That was the first apple. And it had a big worm in it. But, no. I meant your not going out. Have you — I hope — changed your mind about attending that gathering of dirty old men tomorrow at the Doubless Ranch?
No. And I won’t, Shell. I told you, it’s just too important to me.
I was afraid of —
But forget that for now, Shell.
She went on for a while about Adam and Eve and apples, asking me if I wanted a bite, things like that, but without much success in distracting me from my purpose, which was to talk about her planned appearance at the ranch tomorrow.
Finally, she eyed me with some dubiousness and said, You . . . aren’t the same, Shell. You were more — more fun last night. And even this morning.
I was, huh? Well, dear, fun’s fun, but there is a time for everything, right? And time’s a-wasting.
It sure is.
I mean, if you’re really set on going to that barbecue, I have some proposals and suggestions to present to you, and some of these will require your strict attention, not to mention considerable rearrangement in your thinking.
You’re all business, aren’t you?
Sometimes — during business hours. But wait till I tell you what happened today. First, you don’t want to get shot tomorrow, do you? And killed? No more fun, or anything, just killed? Dead, dead —
You’re really not a ball in the afternoon, are you?
— dead . . . Will you stop quibbling? I’m trying to keep you from getting killed.
I know. Dead, dead, dead.
Now you’ve got it. So will you listen?
I might as well.
Good. Now, pay attention, dear. First, your father is dead.
So what else is new?
I didn’t mean to hit you with it all of a sudden like . . . Yeah. Aralia, there is a great deal you do not know. But you are soon going to know it all, even if I have to sock you. So will you listen?
She listened. With a few interruptions at the beginning of my spiel, but none at all after that. Nearly five minutes later I leaned back, saying, Well, what do you think?
And, this time, it took Aralia a while to reply. She asked a couple of questions about her father, was silent for almost a minute, then said, It’s as if we’re talking about someone else. I don’t — feel any different.
After another brief silence she went on. Shell, do you really think somebody might try to kill me tomorrow? Really shoot me maybe? Right out there with all those people around?
I’m honestly not sure, Aralia. It depends on a lot of things. But there’s a damned good chance, particularly if I make it easy for them.
That’s nice. It’s nice to know you care —
You haven’t been listening with all your might, have you? Besides, I did leave a little out. So listen some more.
Two minutes later she shook her head silently, then said, Well, golly. I don’t know. It sounds crazy. But . . . you promise, if nothing happens — if you’re wrong, I mean — I can really do my thing? I can wait there on that movie set they used for their last picture until it’s time for me, and then walk right out there —
Yeah.
— and then mingle and all afterward? With the people, the producers and everything?
Right.
You promise?
I promise. Look, I’ve told you I know the president of Magna Studios. Harry and I don’t usually, or even often, see eye to eye, but he’s a good friend of mine. So, dear, you go along with all this and I’ll introduce you to Harry Feldspen.
Personally?
You bet. Personally. Which, I have just realized, is about the only way I could do it.
She liked that. Judging by her smiles, and happy wiggles, she liked it a whole lot. But she was still dubious. Aralia simply could not bring herself to believe that anybody would actually try to kill her, murder her, in the presence of so many people, a number of them men well known throughout California and even the nation.
I couldn’t fault Aralia for that. I had large doubts about it myself. Even if every singl
e link in my chain of reasoning was a perfectly logical link — which was not a sure thing to begin with — she might not be in the slightest danger. But I thought I knew the hoodlum mentality better than she did, and I therefore knew there was at least a chance, if she appeared in public tomorrow without taking any precautions at all, it could be her last public appearance anywhere. No matter how small that chance, I figured, why risk it — when there was a way to avoid that risk, or at least avoid most of it?
Finally — I’m not quite sure what process of reasoning led me to it, but logic is not always the victor — I asked, Incidentally, dear, who was runner-up in the Miss Naked California contest?
Felice Dumonnet. That’s what she calls herself. I think she got her name off a bottle of wine.
Her tone was the clue I needed.
I know she’s not in your class, Aralia — who is?This rewarded me with a smile. But she must be a real doll, anyway,I went on. Even second in a statewide contest is nothing to be sneezed —
I’d swear she’s had silicone injections in four places. And picky? After I won, she had the nerve to say — not to me, you can bet, but to the other girls — that I must have —
Wouldn’t it be something if you got killed, Aralia? You know, dead-dead-dead. And Felice whoever went on to the Miss Naked USA finals in your place? I suppose, if the state winner cannot, or does not choose to, compete, the runner-up —
I’ll do it.
Strange are the workings of the female mind. It was undoubtedly true that I knew much more about the hoodlum mentality than did Aralia, but I do not even kid myself that I understand women, or what really goes on among the delicate neurons and synapses when a doll thinks.
But sometimes I get lucky.
You will?I said, as though overwhelmed.
Of course, Shell. It makes a lot of sense to me, now you’ve explained it all.
Gunnar opened the heavy doors of Lindstrom Laboratories himself this time, and led us — Aralia and me — along the silent corridors. We left Aralia in his office, then he and I continued on to the big central room.
The Amber Effect (The Shell Scott Mysteries) Page 14
