Singapore
rain on her way into the lab, but now people made their way under colorful umbrellas. No wind accompanied the deluge, and she popped her small lime green umbrella and joined the procession. It would take less than ten minutes to walk to her apartment, but she needed more distraction and turned the other direction. By the time she had reached the upscale skyscraper that contained the Slanted Edge the rain had quit. A door guard wearing VR goggles spotted Bella walking up to the building and unhooked the crowd control barrier to let her through, while another opened a large glass door receiving her into the opulent lobby. A fit looking woman, that Bella had not seen before, stood at the elevator waiting with a smile. She welcomed Bella and handed her a palm sized device as she motioned to the open door.
At the correct floor the elevator stopped, and Bella followed the arrows on the device directing her to the correct complex which housed the pod that had been selected for her. She had decided that the Slanted Edge must be enormous, because she never seemed to be directed to the same complex, let alone the same pod, more than once. Each complex had at least half a dozen pods, and she eventually stopped trying to figure out where she was in the building and simply followed the arrows to her destination.
A bright green check mark appeared on the device and a perky voice said, “Congratulations, Ms. Espinosa. You have reached the entrance to Pod 58.” Bella smiled each time she found herself about to enter one of the Escape Pods. She couldn’t afford to walk through the front door of the Slanted Edge, but Gregory had given her a year-long membership to this club as a birthday gift. The promotional advertisements claimed it’s better than the real thing—the water cleaner and the air purer, the runs free of congestion, the bicycle tours prettier, and the ski trails exquisite. Skiing had become her favorite activity. The contrast from the heat and humidity outside held its appeal and winter sports were a challenge she had never known.
With each virtual visit to the Norwegian countryside, she became more competent, but the program continued to level up and insisted her body worked hard and her mind stayed focused. For the next hour, she would have no difficulty imagining the real thing. Each cue was convincing—the grip of the snow, the wind against her face, even the heady scent of air in a forest populated by dwarf juniper and stunted spruce trees. When she crashed, the pod’s programming added tutorials to guide her through a natural progression of intuitive skills, like a child learning to walk. With each visit, she stumbled less and sensed her body position against the terrain, positioned her skis with more grace, and placed her poles with confidence. Bella fell in love with skiing, even though she had never experienced a real snowflake fall from the sky.
“Good afternoon, Bella. It’s great to see you again. Anything special I can put into the works today?” a spirited female voice greeted.
There was a response pause. Bella answered with silence as she changed into shorts and a light running top. She unwrapped the boots waiting for her and strapped her bare feet in for a perfect fit. A wrapped pair of lightweight glasses was next. They looked like safety glasses from the lab but enhanced the visual effects of the simulation.
“Would you like to downhill or Nordic ski today?”
“Nordic ski—skate. Espedalen Valley. Twenty kilometers from town.” The forward leaning angle of the ski boot relaxed, but there was still plenty of ankle support. “Oh, that’s better. Thanks. I’m at level twelve, right?”
“Great news! Based on your last foray into this snowy mecca, you can jump into the next level if you like. But it’s up to you.”
“Yeah, let’s push it up a notch. Any suggestions on how to negotiate that downhill corner? It always gets me.”
“Your ski coach told me that if you relax and allow your speed to work your skis’ edge into it, you should be fine. Would you like him to help? He’s available.”
“Of course he is…” She liked her ski coach, the tall handsome Scandinavian, but she wanted nothing to do with men, even virtual ones. “No, thanks. I’ll try it one more time on my own.” Then she waited for the enthusiastic music with a throaty voice-over.
“Go critical. Enjoy the Slanted Edge.”
She stepped into the designated area imprinted on the floor and the bindings grabbed tight. When Bella looked up, she was in a winter wonderland. The realism satisfied all the senses. She was on a groomed trail facing a gentle uphill slope. Solomon was written across each boot attached to a virtual pair of Fischer skis.
Even though she had requested that the pod’s air temperature stay at sixty degrees, a few snowflakes floated downward on a slight breeze. It was a pleasant effect but caused her to shiver. Bringing her skis together, her body drifted backward until she spread the tips of her skis apart, angled her knees inward and stuck her poles into the snow behind her. It was time to get serious and move onward.
With skating motions, she made it up the slight incline that offered an ideal warmup. As she crested the hill, the trail popped out of a forest of twenty-foot-tall spruce trees. She didn’t need to catch her breath but stopped to take in the scene laid out before her. A single track snaked through the gentle downhill into the valley below, where the steeple of a church from a bygone era marked the distant town. The trail marker read 14 km and showed its level of difficulty as Nybegynner with a light blue circle. She took a deep breath and said, “Beginner… hah.” She had never made it down this part of the trail without falling. One ski always slid into a preset track and the other would slide around without guidance until it crossed over and tripped her into a snowbank. If determination could substitute for skill, today would be different. In the past, going slow hadn’t helped, nor crouching into a squat like a little kid, nor focusing on avoiding the preset track. It all ended with the same result—an abrupt stop into the snowbank. She took off down the slope faster than ever before and with greater hope.
The trees blurred as she pumped her legs and gained speed. Her knees absorbed the small lumps in the snow, and the muscles in her thighs burned from the effort of her strides. She shifted her body from side to side as her skis took turns against the crystallized snow. Scuff and glide, scuff and glide…. The wind rushed past, and the speed thrilled her. It was delicious, and she didn’t want it to stop. The corner and its familiar snowbank drew closer. She pushed her right ski into a final long glide, then pulled it back parallel to the left and focused on her path. Her body lowered, knees bent, poles tucked in tight. This time, the corner whisked by with no drama and the snowdrift ignored her as she sped by. Bella raised her body as she came out of her fast glide onto level terrain. A new confidence swelled in her, and she continued down the trail. At that moment, her movements were effortless, and she felt in control of her progress, but some skiers were coming toward her, and she needed to slow down.
Four men, skiing fast, but looking like they weren’t even trying, approached. They took up the whole trail and she could hear the good-natured banter among them. They wore matching deep red racing tights with sponsorship logos, wraparound sunglasses, and black nylon caps. Each had a rifle barrel sticking up from the gun strapped to their back. She had never seen them before, but assumed they were heading to the biathlon course. When they got closer, the group zippered into single file to allow Bella to glide past without breaking stride.
“Hallo,” said the first one. He smiled as if Bella had made his day. The next two said, “Hei” and nodded as they coasted by, resuming their momentum by poling hard, but the last skier allowed himself to slide to a stop and stared straight at Bella.
A polite smile fell from her face as she thought, Gregory! Her legs and knees weakened as she glided past him—twisting, she held his gaze. The man said something in perfect Norwegian, turned toward his buddies and skied hard to catch up. Bella stopped and watched them out of sight. It was not Gregory’s voice. She couldn’t even be sure it had been the rest of him, but the resemblance shocked her enough to concentrate on what he said. Her mother homeschooled her mostly in Norwegian, and many summers she spent the long days with cousins and played with the local children, but her language skills were rusty, and the man spoke with a native cadence. He said, “My sweet, wait for me. I’ll come to you as soon as I’m done.”
Bella’s mind raced. Gregory had never called her my sweet. Translation is difficult. I’ll come to you, is also I’ll come for you… but did it matter? The Slanted Edge had security programs to avoid chance meetings. “Can you tell me if there are other users in this Sim?”
“No, Bella, you must invite others to enjoy their company. All others are non-player characters. Would you like to invite a friend?”
“No. Is it standard that an NPC would make a pass at me?”
“I’m sorry, Bella, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘make a pass.’”
“You know, to flirt?”
“All I can say to that is stranger things have happened. May I ask, did you like it? I can use that information to create a more enjoyable experience for you.”
“No. I didn’t like it at all.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Is there anything further?”
“Shut it down. I’m done.”