Point of Contact

The gunshot exploded in his ears — the sharp, earsplitting crack of a nine-millimeter round. The spent brass cartridge arced out of the chamber and tinked on the floor to his right, and the gun jerked in his hand. The apple disintegrated into pulpy chunks.

“The gun has haptics, too?”

“That’s what made it jump.”

“That was loud.”

“That’s what it would really sound like. Do you want me to turn it down?”

“Better than going deaf.”

“Try it again.” As Dr. Tao spoke, a paper target appeared, hanging in midair over the apple shards.

Jack took aim and fired three shots in quick succession. Three holes punched dead center; the paper target shook and the gun jumped in his hand. But instead of three gun blasts, he heard three squeaks from a rubber-ducky toy. Jack laughed.

“Cute, Doc.”

“It’s all about options.”

Jack holstered his pistol as he turned around.

“Not bad shooting for a guy who doesn’t really like guns,” Lian said in his headset.

“You’re watching this?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve got to admit, this is really cool technology,” Jack said. “The couch potato brigade’s gonna love it.”

“VR has more important applications than games.”

Jack suddenly stood in an abandoned surgical ward.

“What’s this?”

“Could be a combat assault, or a police hostage rescue operation.”

A metallic sound crashed on the far side of a swinging door.

Jack stepped past a surgical table and pushed against the swinging door, his right hand reaching for his pistol. He felt the weight of the virtual door press against his glove as it gave way. He went into a tiled washing area with stainless-steel sinks, his pulse racing. He started to clear the room but caught himself. This wasn’t the time to tip his hand.

“Interesting, but don’t military guys just build themselves practice rooms like this?” Jack asked, holstering his pistol.

“They do, but they can’t do it as fast as this.”

Jack didn’t move, but the venues changed in rapid succession, one after another: a hotel lobby, an Afghan village, a department store, an elementary school classroom.

“A training coordinator can lock or open doors, move walls, cause weapons to fail, change up opponents, change the time of day, weather, season — you name it. Complete control and customization of any training scenario at the touch of a button.”

“I can see where that would be handy,” Jack said, hiding his shock. Any special operations team would love a training system like this. John Clark would go nuts. “But still not as good as the real thing, I’d imagine.”

“It’s a supplement to physical training, not a substitute. Ready for something else?”

“Sure.”

Suddenly Jack was standing on the edge of a windswept mountaintop, a deep chasm falling away at his booted feet. His stomach tingled at the thought of falling off, which he knew he couldn’t, since he was actually standing on the floor of the Dalfan building.

Right?

An eight-inch-wide board spanned the twenty-foot chasm. On the other side stood Dr. Tao’s avatar. She waved to him.

“What do you think, Mr. Ryan?”

Jack spun around 360 degrees, taking in the rugged, snowcapped mountain range. A stiff breeze whistled in his ears.

The view appeared to be utterly real, better than the best 4K television he’d ever seen. Elation swept over him, the sense of utter freedom he always felt climbing in the mountains.

“This image quality is amazing. I’d swear I was really standing on a mountain. No lagging or pixelating.”

“We created 12K images by stitching 4K videos together. Optimization algorithms maximize the streaming on your screen.”

“Is that mostly what you do? Take existing technology and improve its performance?”

“Exactly correct, though we have amazing graphic arts, video, and audio departments.” Dr. Tao’s avatar waved for him to cross. “Care to come over?”

“Sure.” Jack’s legless left boot stepped onto the narrow board, followed by the right. The wind picked up in his ears. He glanced down at the chasm. Far below, a river raged. His sense of balance was already under assault.

“Feels pretty darned real, Doc. The audio quality is shockingly good.”

“Our five senses are our gateway to reality. Sound and sight are the two most important.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve developed smell-o-vision yet.” Jack took a few more steps.

Dr. Tao giggled. “We’re working on something, but it’s not quite ready.”

The board creaked as it bent beneath his feet.

“Haptics in my boots?”

“Just like your gloves. The micro-actuators in your boots can alternate pressure points on the foot, simulating inclines and declines, as well as textures like pebbles, rocks, and even sand. We’re working on both a full-sized helmet and a full-sized bodysuit for a completely immersive experience.”

Jack stepped farther along the board, his arms intuitively lifting to his sides for balance. Halfway across the chasm, the plank cracked in his ears and the board began breaking in front of his toes. Jack’s pulse quickened.

“Wow, this feels so—”