He handed her one of the coffees he’d picked up in the terminal. The boss wasn’t supposed to get the coffee, but he liked keeping their dynamic informal.
Marnie nodded her thanks. “Frank called in sick. A backup MRI technician is coming in at nine thirty. Your scan can proceed at ten.”
Joe’s stomach clenched. He wasn’t worried about the MRI. He’d had a few and knew what to expect. He’d be lying on his back in a white tube while it sounded like someone was pounding on a metal drum by his head, like a bunch of angry dwarves trying to break in with hammers. He could handle angry dwarves.
“Before you start nagging me, I had my brain scanned and had an EEG done for every scenario on the list last night,” Marnie said.
“Do I nag you?”
“Let’s just say that if my daughter could nag like you, she’d have a pony.”
“I really appreciate you taking the time—”
“You already got your pony. Go find your next victim.”
Joe let her get back to work and walked over to the game room. The room was painted forest-green and kept dark to help the subject become fully immersed in the virtual world. The only thing illuminated was a giant screen. A transparent brain, much like the brain in the lobby, rotated slowly onscreen. After his MRI was complete, a see-through version of his own brain would be displayed there at ten (cyan, black) times its actual size. He could project Marnie’s up there now if he wanted to.
Instead, he touched the neoprene cap he’d soon be placing on his head. Inset with electrodes, the cap would record his EEG and transmit it to a powerful computer in the corner of the room. As soon as it received the data, the computer would project his brain’s electrical activity onto his transparent brain. He called it “the lucid brain” because the model illuminated a subject’s brain activity. A short time lag existed between when the EEG registered electrical activity and when it displayed the activity on the giant screen along the wall, but it was the closest man had ever gotten to electronically reading someone else’s mind in real time.
Marnie had been scanned as part of the control group — a person without anxiety disorders or PTSD. Joe was part of the experimental group, and soon he’d be subjected to his worst fear — going outside. His brain’s reactions to that experience would be stored for study. He would be completely terrified in front of his colleagues, and the moment would be preserved for eternity. His respect for the other study subjects grew. They had to undergo the same scary process since Lucid’s initial EEGs would be performed on people with anxiety disorders. He and his team had designed scenarios to simulate post-traumatic stress events in soldiers or survivors of 9/11 (scarlet, slash, cyan, cyan) or moments of extreme anxiety for those with agoraphobia.
He had some time to kill before his scan, and he decided to spend it playing some of the coolest and most immersive video games on the planet. He had the toys right here — a souped-up version of Oculus Rift, a state-of-the-art sound system, and an array of games made just for fun.
He stepped onto the gaming mat, put on his virtual reality helmet, and started to play. He heard Edison lie down in a corner of the room, and he knew the dog’s brown eyes were watching his every movement. Edison never stopped looking out for him.
By the time Marnie came to get Joe for his MRI, he was pretty calm, and he stayed calm through that long and uncomfortable procedure. He used the time to work on his strategy for attracting investors to Lucid.
The second he stepped back into the game room, his heart rate went up. The sight of the virtual reality helmet that he’d enjoyed wearing earlier filled him with dread. He wiped his palms on his pants.
“Ready for this?” asked Dr. Gemma Plantec in her clipped British accent. She was probably the best neurobiologist in the world.
He remembered her job interview. He’d spent a little time going over her qualifications, making sure she knew everything her curriculum vitae said she did. She answered his questions easily and with a sly British wit. He’d liked her from the start.
At the end, when he’d asked her what questions she had for him, she’d said, “You’ve seen my credentials, so you know I’m brilliant. You also know that I’m black and a woman. I want the same opportunities and working conditions as a white male. If I can’t get those, let’s stop this right now.”
He’d been a little taken aback, but he’d seen enough sexism and racism in the tech world to understand where she was coming from. He’d promised her she’d get the same deal as anyone else in that position, and she’d accepted his offer.
Since then, they’d fallen into a tough, no-nonsense working relationship. She was the last woman in the world he wanted to witness his weakness and terror.
She was short, just over five (brown) foot tall, and he bent down so she could get the EEG cap on his head. “I understand this will be traumatic for you.”
“That’s the whole point, Dr. Plantec,” he said.
She adjusted the electrodes. “And here I thought our work had a wider scope than torturing you.”
“Not just me,” he said. “We’ll be torturing lots of other people, too.”
“So, I’ve signed on for science’s Guantanamo Bay?” She didn’t give Joe time to answer. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Before he had time to think about it, Joe pulled down the virtual reality helmet. Edison sensed his mood and came over to stand next to him.
“Will the dog skew the results?” Dr. Plantec asked.
“The dog stays.” Joe’s tone brooked no argument.
He actually heard her teeth click together when she shut her mouth. “I’ll start the simulation, Dr. Tesla.”
He wondered if she was reminding him that he had a PhD so he’d feel better about himself when he freaked out. “I’m not a medical doctor.”
“It still counts,” she said.
Bright images appeared in the virtual world around him. He walked down a virtual corridor. The floor was golden oak, the walls painted a soft yellow. To most people, this was bright and soothing. Ahead of him, virtual sunlight spilled through an open door, forming a warm square on the wooden floor.
His stomach tightened at the sunlight, but he moved toward the door. He wanted to remind himself that it wasn’t real, but the point of this exercise was to believe it was. Edison’s nose bumped Joe’s knee.
He didn’t slow his virtual steps, walking until he was right next to the door. His heart pounded, and his breath came fast and shallow. He tried not to think of Dr. Plantec watching him. His father had once said that you could look good, or you could learn something, but you couldn’t do both at the same time. The time had come for Joe to learn something.
He had to force himself to open his eyes. Waves tumbled over each other and flattened against a sandy beach. Bright sunlight reflected off the water. A lovely day at the seashore. To anyone else, this would have been a scene of great tranquility.
His legs started to tremble, and he tensed. He wouldn’t let himself run away from the simulation. He had to stay as long as he could. Every second’s data was precious.
Edison bumped his leg harder. The dog whined, and Joe turned away from the ocean view to look down the empty corridor.
“I can take the dog out,” Dr. Plantec said.
“He… stays.” Joe forced out the words.
“Then Edison’s not going anywhere,” said Dr. Plantec. Her voice was probably supposed to be soothing. It wasn’t soothing enough.
Sweat ran down Joe’s forehead and dripped into his eyes. His T-shirt was drenched, too. His whole body wanted him to rip the helmet off and run away.
But he didn’t. He counted to ten, each number flashing in his head. One was cyan; two, blue; three, red; four, green; five, brown; six, orange; seven, slate; eight, purple; nine, scarlet; and ten, cyan and black. He used his hard-won breathing techniques, trying to get his heart under control.