[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
More than just into machines.
As the implications played out in Lucia's mind, she felt queasy. The risk had always
existed of a computer being cracked, invaded, or otherwise compromised by its link to
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aar/Catherine%20Asaro%20-%20The%20Veiled%20Web.html (306 of 359)20-2-2006 21:09:20
Catherine Asaro - The Veiled Web
the world-spanning nets. Now the potential existed to crack the brains of people.
Grégeois's group could, in theory, reprogram anyone wearing a VR suit. And its simula-
tions were almost indistinguishable from reality. It took the idea of brainwashing to an
entirely new level. The conspiracy could indoctrinate the world however they wished.
"Good Lord," Lucia whispered.
Rashid had started to nod off, but now his head came up. More than ever she understood
the stark expression on his face. What kind of nightmare must it be like for a man of
such dreams, forced to participate in so horrific an abuse of his idealistic hopes?
She still wasn't sure what he wanted her to do, but now she had an idea. When the
augmented Jazari suit created a simulation, the bots remembered it. Each bot had its
own crude computer; taken altogether, they formed a network in her body, certainly
nothing as sophisticated as the Internet but enough to remember a simulation they had
already produced. Although they couldn't create anything new or connect her to the
Web, they might be able to reproduce simulations they had already memorized.
With deliberate force, she thought: Take me back to the beach at Agadir.
A distant rush of waves came to her, and a ripple of children's laughter.
Come on, she thought. The beach. Agadir. The beach.
Like ghosts, two women appeared, one veiled, one in a bikini. Lucia again smelled
tangy air and tasted salt on her tongue. A strange translucence overlaid the room,
Agadir. but dreamlike. Gradually it became more convincing, until she could barely see
the room itself.
Stop, she thought.
The simulation faded into nothing.
Take me to ABT, Lucia thought. Don't stop the simulation unless the command comes
from me. She had no idea whether or not she could actually program commands into the
bots just by thinking, but it was worth a try.
Suddenly the ballet swirled around her, full of motion. Zaki had layered every page
from the Web site into the simulation, giving it a great depth. At first the reality was
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aar/Catherine%20Asaro%20-%20The%20Veiled%20Web.html (307 of 359)20-2-2006 21:09:20
Catherine Asaro - The Veiled Web
nowhere near as convincing as with the Jazari suit, but gradually it improved, until it
overwhelmed her senses. Dancers spun through one another, ran, jumped, glided, and
soared through the air, often with many copies of themselves. A multitude of smells
came to her, some sharp, others diffuse, the tang of sweat mixed with the fragrance of
roses. Music from many scores blended together, along with voices, the scrape of shoes,
a woman counting one, two, three, four, the rustle of costumes, the intake of breath. She
felt air brush her skin, the heat of passing dancers, even humidity. Had she not known
what to expect, the abrupt rush of sensations would have terrified her.
Turn off my speech centers, she thought. Don't reactivate them again unless I give the
command.
She tried to speak.
The words I'm thirsty formed in her mind. But her brain sent no commands to her body
to make her vocal cords produce the sounds. She had become mute.
Then she faked a convulsion.
With a sudden jerking of her body, she thrashed among the dancers, in that wild scene
of colors and motion, falling to the side. She couldn't see the bench but as she fell
down onto her injured arm, pain shot all the way to her elbow. When she screamed, or
tried to scream, no sound came out.
After all her years of dance, and the character training that went with it, Lucia knew
how to make almost any form of movement look real, even one she had never tried
before. Like a convulsion. The jerking of her body dragged on her arm, aggravating the
gash until she cried out, or would have cried had she been able to voice her protest.
She dimly heard Rashid call her name. Another voice spoke in English, sharp and hard,
closer by. She ignored it all, submerged in a chaos of motion, music, and color. The
bandage had ripped off her arm and she felt the blood flowing again. She gritted her
teeth against the pain.
Like a ghost, the guard appeared at the bench, his gun up and aimed, barely visible
through the cornucopia of sensory input she was experiencing. She heard Rashid entreat
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]