Society of the Mind

'That's all right. I know where it is.'

Laura headed back to her room to get dressed. She was wide-awake now. Colonization? Laura thought, shaking her head at the latest twist.

Lost in thought, she crossed the large, high-ceilinged room on the way to the bathroom. Passing the writing desk, she noticed a light blinking on a panel beneath the television screen.

Underneath it was the word

'V-mail' — video mail received by her room's television over Gray's satellite messaging system.

She picked up the remote control and found the Retrieve button.

The screen burst to life. Printed across the center of a brilliant blue background were the words 'One message received. (Press Retrieve to view.)' She hit the button again.

Jonathan's face and the lower half of a standing man's torso appeared on the screen. 'Do you think it's taping now?' Jonathan asked.

'I think so,' came the voice of the chairman of the Harvard psychology department, who then sank into the chair next to Jonathan.

It looked like they were in one of the private conference rooms at the faculty club on campus. 'Laura,' the chairman said into the camera located at the bottom of the screen, 'assuming that Jonathan and I have figured this thing out, we wanted to send you this message.'

'Hi, Laura,' Jonathan said — waving lamely.

'I woke up this morning to this!' The chairman held up the front page of the Boston Globe. From one margin to the other was printed 'Asteroid Nears Earth.' A smaller headline beneath said 'Gray Corporation Announces Retrieval.'

'This whole asteroid business has hit the campus like a ton of bricks, pardon the pun. Dean Carlysle called a meeting of department chairpersons and asked for us to compile a list of anything this university has to do with Gray or his companies. Obviously, the applied-sciences departments are going to have fairly long lists to discuss, but in our department we only have you to report. And what we have to say is going to be somewhat controversial, I'm afraid, since most of the other departments' contacts involve people who have resigned their posts to take up permanent employment with Gray. In your case, I'm going to have to tell them that you have accepted this consultancy thing. I won't deceive you. It's not going to look good. And to come right to the point…' He hesitated with his mouth hanging open. 'I don't want to beat around the bush, so what I thought I might suggest…'

'He wants you to quit and come home, Laura,' Jonathan supplied for the man. 'Phone and tell us that you've quit in outrage over that megalomaniac Gray's genocidal behavior. That way the report can be, 'Well, we had someone there, but when this thing broke…' et cetera, et cetera.'

The chairman shook his head. 'It's really quite astounding that the man has the audacity to put us all in this predicament merely in pursuit of profit! How dare he? I'm sure now someone in government here or abroad will finally do something about people like Gray.' He shook his head in disbelief again. 'Regardless, Laura, we'll both be in our offices throughout the day. Give us a call as soon as you can. And if I might also suggest — though I'm certain the thought has already occurred to you — you should consider getting off that island as soon as possible. From what I can gather in the morning papers, there's going to be hell to pay for this crazy scheme of his. There is even talk of military intervention because of the magnitude of the threat.'

The chairman looked over at Jonathan, who remained strangely quiet. 'Do you have anything to add, Jonathan?'

Looking straight into the camera, Jonathan said, 'Don't forget to use sun-block Laura.' The chairman looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. 'Bye,' Jonathan said, raising the remote control in front of him. The screen returned to its blue background and then went dark.

Laura stared at the blank screen, trying to organize her now-conflicting thoughts. She was in a quandary, and she decided to take her run on the treadmill and think things over.

Why would Jonathan act that way? she wondered, lacing up her shoes. He was one of the wittiest, most talkative and assertive people she knew.

If he had an opinion, he expressed it. If he'd thought she should come back, he would have said so.

Descending the circular staircase, she turned the question over in her head. Maybe be felt reserved around the chairman? she thought, but instantly rejected the idea. Ever since he'd gotten tenure, he had reverted to his old self and was not intimidated by anyone.

When Laura reached the marble foyer, she headed for the back of the house. At the two-story wall of glass in the stairwell, she paused to enjoy yet another breathtaking view. The morning sun rose over shimmering water and turned the distant haze a deep red.

All Gray's creations were in their places — carved out of dark vine and plant and tree.

All Gray's creations were in their places… with the possible exception of one. The Model Eights were the latest and greatest.

They were a new force to be reckoned with.

The thought preoccupied Laura all the way to the observation window that overlooked the high-tech treadmill. Once there, she searched for a way down to the exercise room. There were elevator doors at the far end of the hall, but she looked around until she found the stairs.

Laura realized she'd made the right choice when she got to the level below. There was no door by the elevator shaft, only an empty wall behind which the shaft descended.

The exercise room was empty. It was also rather chilly, so Laura took her time stretching. When her muscles were finally loose, she walked over to the treadmill, which was unlike any she'd ever seen before. The tread looked more like the assembly building's broad conveyer belt — a good ten feet in depth along the direction of the runner's stride and easily twenty feet from side to side.

Good for Gray's football fantasies, she thought, but definitely overkill for a run.

A control panel with LEDs gave step-by-step instructions. It finally got to 'Please put on your helmet.' She saw the black headgear hanging beside the controls. It was the same thing she'd seen on Gray.

She tried other buttons on the touch-sensitive membranes, but they remained dark and inactive. She just wanted to run, but that didn't seem to be an option.

She puffed out her cheeks and exhaled, frowning as she fit the helmet on her head. Although it covered her eyes and both ears, it was surprisingly lightweight and comfortable. Two glowing red spots shone in the lenses.

Laura flinched when a woman's voice came from the earphones. 'Please center the red dots so that they merge. The control knobs are on the top of the helmet. When you have finished, press the Enter button over your right earpiece.'

The sound of the voice was pleasant and soothing. Laura felt along the top of the headgear, finding a knob, which she twisted until the two red dots merged. She found the large button over her right ear and pressed, hearing a high-pitched electronic chime.

'If you wish to wear the respiratory monitoring apparatus, please press the Enter button once for instructions, otherwise press the button twice.' Laura huffed in impatience as she pressed the button twice.

The process was repeated for a heart monitor and gloves which she declined. Finally, the female voice of the treadmill said, 'Welcome to the Gray Corporation Virtual Reality Treadmill. All rights reserved. You are now ready to begin your treadmill experience. You will be given a series of courses and an explanation of each. Press the Enter button once to select your course. The list contains twenty-four options. When it reaches the end it will return to option one.'

'Oh, come on!' Laura said impatiently.

'Would you like for me to select an option for you… Laura?' Laura gasped — grabbing the helmet and nearly jerking it off her head in panic. The computer had spoken her name, but it had come out with an ugly rasp. She stood there with her hands on the headgear — ready to flee.

'You can hear me?' she asked in a whisper.

'Please speak up,' the smarmy computer voice requested.

Laura swallowed. 'I said, can you hear me?'

'Yes. I can hear you.'

The voice was smooth again. It was clearly computer-generated.