User:Posti/Real Time
{{#ifeq: User |User| Real Time | Real Time}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| Real Time | Real Time}}| ]]
{{#ifeq: | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}} | ||
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}| ]]
}} |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}} | |
Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}}| ]]
}}
}} |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}} | | Authors: ' |
Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}]]
}} |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}} | |
Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Posti | Posti}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Bob Stein | Bob Stein}}]]
}}
}}
}} {{#if:| — see [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}
A dozen thunderstorms pounded in Trent’s ears, and he could hear the shouts of other jockeys as they approached the final turn. He was two back, with Jensen and Leaper inches ahead on either side. There were only seconds left in the race, and though he couldn’t see the finish line he knew it was just ahead. Clenching his aching calves even tighter against Illusion’s sides, he urged even more speed from the powerful horse. And incredibly, Illusion responded with a burst of speed that edged them ahead just as the pole flashed by…and then the horse, track, and everything else flickered, and he was looking up at a white-tiled ceiling.
“Shit!” Trent slammed the table with his free hand, still pumped up by adrenalin and reeling from the sudden switch-out. Legs cramped up, and his body arched and shuddered uncontrollably for a few seconds before falling back limply. His heart was still pounding, though, and he was breathing as hard as if he’d run five miles. Or ridden a thoroughbred to victory.
The girl patted sweat from his face and stepped back as a less pleasant-looking visage leaned over him.
“Well? Whatcha think? We got a winner here?” Vinnie looked like a caricature of an old-time hood – thick and dark, with a permanent beard and scowl. Unfortunately, nature had type-cast him for the role he’d chosen in life – a bookie and sometimes enforcer for local crime leaders. Even more unfortunately, a series of bad bets had put Trent on both lists.
As much as Trent hated the man, the emotional high was too much to ignore. “That was incredible! I felt, heard, smelled everything. It was real!”
Vinnie smiled and looked over at the technician. “What about the medical stuff? He OK? We can’t risk having some customer kicking off because this setup ain’t right.”
“Some of his readings spiked when you shut the connection off prematurely.” The girl’s voice was tight with anger. “You could have done some real damage.”
“Stuff it, cunt!” The man was such a charmer. “He’s fine. Anyway, you can use the data to figure out worst case stuff, right? So tell me what I want to know.”
She looked over the console and then tapped some buttons on the computer to bring up different screens. “Except for the spikes at disconnect, all readings are within acceptable levels. Of course, Mr. Long is an athlete, not some flabby…”
“Ex-athlete!” Vinnie cut her off with a sneer. “Our little friend here hasn’t been on a horse in, what? Three years? Anyway, he was a jockey, not a football or baseball player. A shrimp who can ride a horse.”
“Mr. Smith.” The technician regarded Vinnie coolly. “You paid a lot of money for this demonstration AND my evaluation. A jockey is stronger, pound for pound, than almost any hulking jock you can name. The average old fat guy would probably die halfway through.” She smiled thinly. “Of course, you could try it yourself and prove me wrong.”
If Vinnie picked up on the implied insult, he gave no sign. “What’s wrong with the setup? You said it was working perfect!”
The girl moved back to Trent and checked the wire connections to the headband. “Nothing is wrong. You heard Mr. Long. We achieved total immersion. I never said the system would be usable as an amusement. That was your assumption. Fortunately, I already told your superiors that you were an ignorant toad who didn’t know what the Hell you were talking about.”
“You bitch!” Vinnie’s pig-eyes bulged and he lunged for her. Trent tried to grab him, but was strapped to the table and couldn’t reach. However, before the big man reached his target, he jerked and collapsed on the floor with a strangled scream. Trent felt the impact as Vinnie hit, and the table shook as flailing limbs struck the legs. Then he heard a sudden gasp, and a soft thud.
Ignoring Trent, the young woman walked over and looked down with grim satisfaction. “See what I mean, Mr. Smith? You couldn’t even survive a simple taser.”
Trent blinked and felt a chill. There was no sound at all from the floor. “Is he..?”
“Dead? Very.” She smiled and nodded, holding up a small black device that looked like some sort of remote control. “Though in fairness, I have to admit that I tripled the voltage output. Hell on batteries, but a lot more effective. Would you like a moment alone to grieve? Personally, I think the world is much better off without him.”
While he couldn’t argue the point, Trent felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He suddenly had the impression that this young woman was much more dangerous than Vinnie. And he was still strapped to the table. “Umm, look, he was a sleaze. And it was self defense. Anyway, I won’t say anything. I promise.”
That prompted a chuckle that did nothing to ease Trent’s fears. “Oh, Mr. Long, there is no reason to be afraid of me. In fact, I have an offer that you should find most interesting.”
“Uh, an offer?” He pulled futilely at the straps, stopping when she brushed his hand away.
“I believe your participation in this experiment cleared your debts to the recently deceased?”
He flushed slightly, but nodded. Times were tight, and there wasn’t a lot of work for an ex-jockey with a bum leg and an uninspiring track record. His inside knowledge of the sport seemed to make batting on races a natural. However, his choices proved to be as uninspired as his racing career. Hence serious and rapidly growing debts to people to people it was dangerous to owe money to.
“How would you like to wipe your entire slate clean? Everything you owe to Fast Eddie, Mr. Dibbs, and the rest?” The young woman looked down at him with a smile. “I believe the total is in the neighborhood of $87,962?”
Trent stared up at her. That was more than the last tally, but probably right on the money once you added daily interest. “What do I have to do?” It wasn’t really a question of if – there was almost nothing he wouldn’t do for that prize short of murder – and she seemed quite capable of handling that herself.
“One more experiment.” She gave Vinnie’s body a quick look of disgust. “Our unpleasant friend was blind to the real potential here. What you experienced was really just a test of the hookups – making sure we had all the information networked correctly. It wouldn’t have worked for you to ‘smell’ sounds, or feel the taste of dust in your legs. You were being honest, I hope. The test felt real to you in every way?”
He nodded, still fearful, but a little puzzled. “Absolutely. How could you make it any better?”
“How about a chance to get back on the track for real? To be young, strong, able to win at Belmont, perhaps take the Triple Crown?”
“But that’s not….” He stopped, seeing the smile broaden on her face. “You can do that?”
“It’s simply a matter of changing the connection from a stored database to a living host. Well, perhaps not so simple, but the basic concept follows. You’ll be in control of that body, and he will be here in yours. Sort of a swap.”
Trent stared up at her, irrational hope pushing aside fear. “Why? And what about the other person?”
The young woman smiled. “That is not your concern. Rest assured that he will have no complaints. As for why, you were quite a good jockey, if a bit lenient on your horses. Creative application of your knowledge would be most beneficial in the right circumstances. What I need is your full cooperation. This is a tricky process at best, and resistance on the part of the control subject will screw things up. So, are you game? Or do you want me to release the straps and send you on your way? I believe Fast Eddie is expecting a large payment by Friday.”
It was a bad idea. Trent didn’t know who might have volunteered to be the other end of this swap – probably a rookie jockey getting an early start on gambling debts. But regardless of what the young woman had said, he doubted that walking out of here was a real option. Sighing, he nodded his head. “OK. I’ll do it.”
She smiled knowingly and pulled out a cell phone. “Let me make sure everything is set up at the other end.” She punched a button and listened a moment. “Carlos? We are ready here. Make sure his eyes are covered. Countdown 60.” She looked at her wristwatch. “Mark.”
Turning back to the computer, she tilted her head to pin the cell phone against her shoulder as she typed on the keyboard. “Link is green.” The girl turned back to Trent with a smile. “OK. Just like before. Try to relax and clear your thoughts. When you feel the pull, go with it.”
Who would agree to swap with him, though? He struggled to think of the newer jockeys. They were all bright and eager as he had been at the start. What kind of debt or other issues would be worth becoming a washed-out, unemployed jock with a bum leg?
“Twenty seconds.” The girl checked her computer screen and nodded to herself.
He realized something else. Once they were done, there would be no reason to keep him around. At least as long as everything went according to plan. What if he managed to escape? Or fought being changed back?
“Ten seconds.” She glanced at him, then returned her attention to the monitor.
Trent swallowed nervously, and tried breathing slowly. The initial transfer had been exciting, but he’d looked at it more like an extreme video game. This was different. How could they put him in someone else’s body? For that matter, why bother? Sure, he wasn’t a bad rider, but as much as it hurt to admit, there were a lot better. He’d always been too concerned about the horses he rode to push them really hard, and that wasn’t likely to –
The world shifted again, senses confused and whirling. Balance was off, his position all wrong. As his thoughts cleared, Trent was momentarily panicked at what seemed to be blindness, then remembered the girl saying something about having the other person’s eyes covered. But he felt heavy, huge, completely different.
A male voice came surprisingly clear in his ears, which twitched in an unfamiliar way. “Transfer complete. I’ll check the patient.”
God, what had they done to him? Trent’s confusion deepened as awareness expanded. He was on hand and knees – no, on hands and feet? But he was level. And…
Even before the cloth was removed from his eyes, Trent realized exactly what the girl had meant by ‘creative’ use of his knowledge. And his concern for horses would actually be a benefit now – he was quite sure that the race horse he now was would be around only as long as he was a winner.
-end-