Freeman Evoke

1. Auflage 2012
ISBN: 978-1-937674-02-1
Verlag: Barkley Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 362 Seiten

Movies, radio, television and more recently the internet each brought their own revolutions in communication, lifestyles and society. Current scientific research quietly hints at the next wave - the blending of computers with the human mind itself. Forget avatars and 3-D games, we're on the threshold of chips in our brains that will enable us to experience the lives of the rich and famous. It's coming, but are we ready? EVOKE is set in the very near future - where politicians still lust for power, people drive ordinary cars to ordinary work and eat fast-food. What's different is EVOKE - a newly available network providing not merely information or virtual reality, but a chance to become someone else for a while. With EVOKE we can finally be in an exotic relationship, win the Masters Golf Tournament, walk the catwalk in Paris or dine at the Four Seasons. If we can be anyone and do anything online, who are we in our real lives? More importantly - who controls what we experience and distributes access to the first chips? The characters provide an intimate look at social and political change through the eyes of people accessing EVOKE, as well as those on the outside - from the politicians who control it, to businessmen hot after its commercial potential, to ordinary people who struggle for meaning in their lives while facing unlimited pleasure. It's a chillingly realistic look into our future - our near future. Are you ready? Are any of us?

Autoren/Hrsg.

Freeman, Jim

Leseproben

TWO Seven hundred miles and one time zone west, Martin Greene suppressed a sense of excitement tinged with guilt, dread or whatever it was that he’d felt as a youngster slipping into an X-rated movie. Today he’d get the keys to an alternative world, after the negligible bother of a neat bit of surgery would bring him online to EVOKE. In his thirty-seven years, Marty’d never been a patient in a hospital, but he’d sure as hell haunted the halls visiting his mother as she slowly and methodically died of breast cancer. The chipped paint and over-waxed tile smell of the old Henrotin Hospital bravely tried to cover the sick and dying smell and never quite made the grade. Those memories left him a little shaky, but this was out-patient surgery and would be a piece of cake. EVOKE, spinning its illusive numbers had finally caught up with Marty. Even the name was exciting. Evocative all right, fucking by computer and he smiled to himself, thinking what he’d be do when he got home this afternoon. Yesterday’s installation of the EVOKE online setup excited him and he’d had a hard time falling asleep. He pulled into Henrotin’s parking lot and his stomach churned as he grabbed a ticket and waited for the gate to go up. When his name had finally come up on the EVOKE availability list, he’d been sent a form to fill out asking if he were interested and, if so, an appointment would be arranged to see one of the government agents assigned to explain the technology. Interested? Shit, he’d been living for the day. The whole country wanted on that list and so far maybe only twenty million made it. There were rumors some people got moved up by knowing someone with clout, but what the hell, rumors were rumors. They told him what everyone already knew, droning along like he was a school-kid. The EVOKE chip implant was entirely voluntary, but not removable once it was done and there was a voluntary sterilization required at the time of surgery, a vasectomy. Truth be known, Marty was quietly relieved to opt out of parenting. He carefully marked ‘No’ in the sperm bank box. He and Jean fought over that and the fight probably wasn’t over yet, but this would settle it for good. She’d just have to live with it. “Mister Greene?” The nurse smiled up at him, took his admission slip and typed the number into her computer, bringing up his records. “Just have a seat and we’ll be ready for you in a few minutes.” Marty sat down and felt his stomach flip again and it made him need to pee. “Excuse me, is there a men’s room?” Jesus, he really needed to pee now. “Second door on the left.” She smiled again, pointing back down the hall. He came back relieved, but had hardly sat down when a nurse in operating room greens poked her head through the door, checked her clipboard and looked up to call his name. He followed her down a short hall with examining rooms on either side, opening the door to the third room on the left, asked him to strip and put on the gown that was folded on the examining table. Marty felt suddenly very much alone and wished maybe he’d asked Jean to take the day off as she’d wanted to, to come with him and be there to drive him home. The gown only fastened down the back and as he boosted himself up on the examining table, the plastic was cold on his ass. A little dribble of sweat began under each armpit and trickled down the sides of his ribs. The doctor’s pre exam was brief and businesslike, his stethoscope cold as ice and the trickle of sweat kept working its way down Marty’s side. No complaints, no previous illness? Never been in a hospital overnight before? Haven’t had anything by mouth since midnight? Yes, he understood about the vasectomy. Yes, he knew he wasn’t to have sex for three days and to come back in a week for a sperm-count. Yes, he understood that didn’t include EVOKE sex, as there was no actual orgasm involved in the programs. Yes, he knew neither operation was reversible. Yes, yes, yes and let’s get it over. Marty padded down the hall in paper slippers, clutching the back of the flapping gown, then climbed on the operating table in a small and brightly lit room, kicked off the slippers and put his feet in two elevated stainless steel stirrups. Air from the ventilation system blew up his suddenly bare ass. The nurse from the front desk came in, dressed now in scrubs and began to lather his scrotum. She looked over the tented portion of his gown at him and smiled. “Find the men’s room all right?” Sweat puddled at his armpits and he forced a grin. “I’m your barber today, at both ends,” she smiled. “When I’m done here, I’m going to shave a little tiny place on your scalp. You’ll hardly notice it and can comb your hair right over the spot.” He felt her fingers and felt the razor against his scrotum and told himself that everything gets over sooner or later. She wiped him with something that had a rough texture to it. The surgeon was more talkative than an airline pilot, explaining every step of the procedure and though the local anesthetic kept him from feeling pain, he was acutely aware of the cutting and fiercely wished the whole thing over. The doctor snipped and he felt the tug of forceps, heard the cut like gristle on a chicken leg. Marty gripped the table and thought he might faint. He felt stitches being made. “All done and no need to worry. Just walk a little carefully for the rest of the day and don’t lift anything heavy for a few days.” Marty gratefully took his feet out of the stirrups. “Just lie there and relax a few minutes,” the nurse told him, “and we’ll take you down for part two. The next will be easier, but when you swing over the edge of the table, keep your legs together and just ease yourself down.” He lay there and began to feel he might not faint and further embarrass himself in front of the slim, dark haired nurse. She was back in ten minutes and helped him down, holding on to his left arm as they walked to the room next door. Still aware of the opening down the back of the gown and still dribbling sweat down his sides, he no longer gave a shit. She helped him up and onto another table, this one supporting a long sliding carriage and complicated padded clamp for his head. A tunnel at the far end would receive him like a corpse in the morgue or a cigar in a tube, performing a brain scan prior to the implant. The nurse talked to him steadily, smiling, adjusting clamps, telling him the scan would take about five minutes and not to worry, she’d be right there while the doctor read the imagery. She slid him into the tube, the narrow table gliding on smooth bearings and he heard and felt the slight click of the mechanism locking into place. Piece of cake, lotsa people go through this, be over in no time and drive home. Marty was drowsily aware of a long series of gentle whirring noises that began at his neck and moved slowly toward the top of his head. Moving back and forth several times, the whirr nearly put him to sleep. There was a slight thud, the locking device un-clicked and Marty felt himself rolling back into a wash of light, blinking after the unsettling darkness of the tunnel. He looked up into the welcome face of the dark haired nurse looking down at him as she unclamped his head. “When do you do the implant?” he asked, as soon as the chin-strap was removed. “All done,” she said. “That was the little thump you heard just before we brought you back out. Easy, huh?” She put her hand on his. “You can feel for it in just a minute. But for now, lie here and relax, we’ll get you on your feet soon and you can go home.” He gingerly felt the top of his scalp and ran his fingers over an inserted chip the size of a fingernail, that raised the skin slightly about three inches above and behind his right ear. This very afternoon he’d slide a headset over this small bump and travel where he’d never been before. His heart pounded with excitement and he could feel its pulsing in his neck and groin, but the sweat was gone. In moments he had become one of the special people, an onliner. Still maybe a shipping supervisor at Clark & Anderson, but special, with something even Mr. Clark didn’t have. The nurse came back with release papers for Marty to sign and walked with him to the examining room. He dressed and began retracing steps, back through corridors, down elevators and out into the bright, cold sunshine of the parking lot. Reaching into a coat pocket for keys and parking stub, he glanced at his watch. Twelve-twenty. By a quarter to one Marty was home and dumped his coat and scarf on the living room sofa to sit in front of the screen, keyboard and modem. He knew he should call Jean, that she’d be worried about him, but the waiting, the years of anticipation were too much to put off. She’d probably be at lunch anyway and the first run-through should only take about an hour. He’d call her after he’d been where he needed to go. The headset slid easily into place even though his fingers shook a bit and he had to feel for the spot, brushing his hair back with one hand. Marty pressed the ‘On’ button, watched the screen bloom and the menu come up, just as it had in the practice session. Welcome to EVOKE. Please make a selection from the pull down menu. Marty scrolled, right clicked the mouse and a menu bar appeared,...