Changing of the Guard

“It could be months, or even years,” Howard said carefully. What he didn’t say was, Or he might not come out of it at all.

“Yes,” Alex said simply.

“We’ll see how it goes,” Toni added. “If Jay is still in there and it’s at all possible for him to wake up, he will. He’s a fighter.”

Howard nodded and sipped at his coffee. She was right.

He hoped.

18

In the Dream Time

Jay lay on his back on the bench and laughed as the stack of weights on the Universal Gym tried to come down and crush him. An errant shaft of sunlight from a high window played on the chrome, the glint of light harsh.

Gonna crush you, Gridley!

Not gonna happen, Iron.

Jay knew he looked like a demigod, hugely muscled, thews and sinews grotesquely rippling, power radiating from him.

Conan the Gridley. Hah!

He heaved, hard, and felt something give in the machine. The stack of weights hit the top of their range, something broke, and part of a shattered plate flew free. It arced across the room and hit the wall, clang! and fell to the floor with a clunk.

Pumped, he stood and shoved the old Universal aside, enjoying the sound of it screeching across the concrete floor, a primal testosterone buzz rolling through his body.

“Who was that you were gonna crush?” he said aloud.

He was strong. This was the power of comic-book heroes, of mythological characters.

Would it be enough?

He had managed to gain more control over his environment, at least. The gym and his other exercises were a testament to that.

But it was still weird. He couldn’t program things like he could in VR. There were no objects to code, no places to do input. The illusions he created were simultaneously more real and unreal than anything he’d ever done in VR. Things acted on their own with patterns he would never be able to create with software, fractal shades of reality that came from within, unlike anything he could achieve through a program.

Like his VR scenarios, this was a metaphor. He was training his will, to increase his mental activity until he could get out.

The idea had come from a memory of the previous coma’s rehab. He’d been weightlifting, an exercise for which he saw no use whatsoever, but had been forced into, and he’d accidentally put the pin into the wrong notch. He’d started his press, thinking it was his normal weight, and had been shocked to find it so heavy. Unwilling to admit defeat, he’d strained, inching the stack up slowly, bit by bit. It had become a test of will — no inanimate pile of metal was going to beat him!

Jay toweled the sweat off. He was as ready as he could be, and he hoped it would be enough.

To match his training metaphor, he’d entered himself into a strongman contest. He’d seen one on ESPN once while channel surfing. It had fascinated him to see these modern Samsons doing what they did.

Each event in the contest he’d planned would test his willpower, help him focus. The brain-wave states of Delta, Theta, Alpha, and Beta were going to be achieved through doing something else, just like VR.

Jay continued his preparations, stretching his legs, now as thick as tree trunks. He was glad for Spandex.

Otherwise I’d be shredding clothes like the Hulk.

There was a musical fanfare from outside, and it was time for the contest. He headed out into a brightly sunlit arena.

“And here representing geeks everywhere, is Smokin’ Jay Gridley!” The loudspeaker blared again, this time the theme to 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Also Sprach Zarathustra.

Jay grinned as he stalked across the arena. Just ahead was the competition.

Alpha, Beta, Theta, and good old Delta.

Of course there was no real competition — only the mental activity borders between layers of his consciousness. Each had a Greek letter embroidered on his gear, making him identifiable. Delta looked weak; Jay already knew he could beat him. Theta looked tougher, but Jay was sure he could take him. Beta and Alpha grinned. Those were the real challenges.

Alpha held his arm up, pinched his biceps and shook his head.

Beta sneered and then pointed his index finger at the ground.

You going down, Jay.

Even though he’d seen similar behavior in many of the other constructs in his dream state, it was still impressive. None of the characters had ever used these mannerisms before, and he found their independence unnerving.

Relax, Gridley, it’s all in your mind.

So he grinned back and waved at them.

I can be unpredictable, too.

Today’s contest had four events. All Jay had to do was beat everyone at their own game, one-on-one, and he’d be free.

He hoped.

He and Delta moved toward rows of metal kegs, each of which weighed a couple hundred pounds. Past that, twenty-five feet away, was a platform, just over waist high. The goal was to put as many of the kegs as you could up onto the platform. All within seventy-five seconds.

Jay knew that Delta could do about four kegs, maybe five. They took their positions, and after what seemed like an eternity, the shot starting the event went off.

Jay wanted an edge in this race, so when he picked up his first keg, he tucked it under an arm and then picked another one with one hand. He heard a murmur in the crowd as he did this, and looked up for a moment at the watchers to see Theta frowning. Beta and Alpha sneered.

Go! He lurched forward, almost falling. Delta, who had just picked up the one keg, was out in front, but not by much.

Jay put the kegs down on the platform and ran back for more. He picked up two more, and saw that although he was slower compared to Delta, he was still a keg up.

Go! He picked up another pair and made it back to the platform. He ran back.

Two more. Beside him he saw Delta returning for his fourth keg.

Faster.

He picked up the pace and pushed, his entire body pumping, blood rushing, heart pounding, will straining. As his fifth and sixth kegs touched down on the platform and he turned back for more, he heard the buzzer go off.

“Gridley, six kegs, the winner!” called the announcer.

Yes!

Delta glared. Jay smiled.

One down.

The next contest used medicine balls. They were fifty pounds each, and had to be thrown at a plywood target. The target was big, to reduce the difficulties in aiming; the bottom of the target was a little higher than three feet off the ground.

This was Theta’s event, and Jay watched him pick up a ball, lean back, and thrust forward.