“To answer Ginny’s original question,” I said as I grabbed them all and we shot through the ceiling of the conference room, accelerating up into space and earning a few gasps, “pssi will change the world by beginning to move it from the destructive downward spiral of material consumption and into the clean world of synthetic consumption.”
I slowed and stabilized our flight path, bringing us to a stop about ninety thousand feet up. Dispersing the reporters’ subjective points of view across a wide radius surrounding the target zone, I motioned down at the oceans below and then toward the sun rising on the horizon.
“Ten billion people all fighting for their piece of the material dream is destroying the planet, and pssi is the solution that will bring us back from the brink!”
On cue, the slingshot began to fill the space around us with a growing roar and fiery inferno. I left the reporters’ visual subjectives in the thick of it while retreating to view from a distance, backing away several miles, and then several more. What had seemed so awe inspiring moments ago now appeared as just a bright smudge in the sky, and miles below shimmered the green dot of Atopia.
My mind clouded with doubt.
Can I really bend reality to my desire?
Atopia was just a pinpoint of green floating in the oceans on a planet that was just a tiny speck adrift in a vast cosmos of unending universes.
Am I fooling myself?
Our imagined power dwindled to nothing when viewed with a little perspective, dwarfed by unseen forces operating on much larger scales. Just then, I was enveloped in a fast-moving cloud, and, as if responding to my thoughts, a strong wind sprang up. The thunderstorm was coming.
I’d better get down and talk with Rick.
Leaving a splinter to manage saying good-bye to the reporters, I disengaged and pinged Commander Strong. The blaze of the slingshot test was still dissipating on the main display in the middle of the command center as I arrived. I lit up a smoke, gently inserting my presence next to Rick. He was my own pick as head of our newly formed Atopian Defense Forces.
During an exemplary career in the US Marines, Strong had demonstrated repeated bravery by rescuing men under his command. His first deployment had been in Nanda Devi in the terrible fighting over Himalayan dams that had sparked the Weather Wars. Though his psych profile indicated latent post-traumatic stress disorder, it was only enough to make him think twice before starting a fight. With the fearsome weapons we’d installed on Atopia, I didn’t want some trigger-happy wingnut’s finger over the button if things got hairy.
Kesselring, the CEO of Cognix and main benefactor behind Atopia, had been the first to begin speaking about the need to have defensive weapons. Initially, the suggestion seemed completely antithetical to the libertarian ideals Atopia was founded upon. I’d been against it at first, but as time wore on, I could see what Kesselring was thinking.
A battle-hardened veteran, Rick brought a direct, and sometimes violent, experience of the realities from the outside world that helped ground the team here. We were masters of synthetic reality, but I had a feeling our created realities could be blinding us to the real dangers out there. Rick was the perfect antidote.
“Finished playtime yet, Rick?” I asked, shifting my hips and taking a drag from my smoke. Rick did like his toys.
I wanted him to feel safe. I knew that one of his main reasons for coming here was to rescue his relationship with his estranged wife, Cindy. I sincerely wanted him to succeed and raise a family here, especially after the hard time he’d had growing up. During the interview process we’d gotten to know each other quite well.
“Yeah, I think that about does it.”
“Good, because you scared the heck out of what wildlife I’ve managed to nurture on this tin can,” I said. “And the tourists want to go back in the water—not that you didn’t put on a good show. That was quite the shock and awe campaign.”
“You gotta wake up the neighbors from time to time,” he laughed.
We’d purposely removed any reality filtering of the weapons test to measure the cognitive impact they would have on people. The response had more than exceeded the threshold for emotional deterrence that we’d needed for the project.
“That’s your job, Rick, to help scare the world into respecting us. Mine is to help scare it into saving itself. Good work.”
“Did you see that thunderstorm coming in?” he asked. I nodded. “We’ve been tracking that depression for weeks, but we can’t avoid them all. Anyway, it’ll water your plants up top.”
He smiled. I smiled back.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” I suggested.
His wife was having a hard time adjusting to life here. People reacted differently to sudden immersion in limitless synthetic reality when they arrived on Atopia for the first time. Most adjusted quickly, in a short order creating their own little nooks and crannies of reality that suited them, but some had a more difficult time.
Yet it wasn’t just that.
At the core of it, Cindy’s chronic depression stemmed from the nature of her relationship with Rick. It was something I thought we could help fix.
“Actually, that would be great. You wouldn’t mind?” he answered, busy adjusting the control systems for the slingshot shutdown. He looked toward me. “So you really think that whole sim kid thing might be a good idea?”
He was talking about the proxxids, simulated babies that Cognix encouraged couples to try before the “real” thing. It might help Cindy get acclimatized to pssi, but in general it wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
“Yes,” I replied slowly, “if you’re careful.”
Rick looked satisfied with my answer. “Maybe I’ll speak to her then. I’ll see you later.”
With a nod to Jimmy, I clicked out of the Command sensory spaces.
3
Identity: Jimmy Scadden
“I think that’s a good idea, Commander,” I said once Patricia had faded from view. “I mean about going to see your wife. I can handle this.”
Rick glanced up at me from the slingshot controls. “Thanks.” Standing up from his workstation, he walked over as he shifted his command authorizations to me. “You have a pretty special bond with Dr. Killiam, don’t you?”
I smiled. “We do.”
An alert signaled that some security protocols had been breached during the weapons test. Somebody was poking around up there and had destroyed the drone.
“It hasn’t been easy moving here,” he continued. “At least, it hasn’t been easy for Cindy.”
I filed the breach report and made a note to look into it later.
“It’s a huge change for her,” I replied. “And for you, for that matter.”
Rick nodded, pulling a security blanket down around us. The other Command staff glanced up from their workstations, curious.
He put his hand on my shoulder. “I heard that you had it rough growing up here.”
I didn’t say anything.
“If you ever need anyone to talk to, I had a bit of a tough time as a kid, too.”
“Thanks… ,” I replied, surprised at his sudden intimacy.
“I’m just saying, any time… and, of course, entirely confidentially.”
“I appreciate that, Commander,” I answered more confidently. “And I will, but I’m fine.”
I pulled down the security blanket, feeling self-conscious with all the rest of the staff there.
“Why don’t you get on to seeing your wife?”
He smiled. “You just remember, any time, right?”
“Right.”
A pause while I smiled at him, but it was difficult to sense what was going on inside his head. I decided to let it go.
“See you later, Jimmy.”