Friday, August 12. 2005Tommy Xiang
Blue crests raised themselves from the water and toppled over with a crash, sending fingers of foam snaking across the soft sand, only to retreat moments later. Gulls called as they circled above the breakers, and every now and then, Tommy heard a child's yell. He reclined on his balcony, high above it all, staring into the deep blue sky, thinking about--nothing. It was a blessed relief.
After enduring several days of accusing faces, after spending countless hours trying to scrub her blood from his hands, Tommy had taken a leave of absence. Now, he reclined on a white chair, on a white balcony, in a white hotel, above a white sand beach. His thoughts were finally blank. It had taken him several weeks, but he had finally convinced his conscience to release him from his guilt. She was not real. She could not die, because she was never alive. True, he would have killed her even if she had been real, but that would change. He would not make the same mistake again. The environments were not games. One more day, and he would be going back. The first order of business? Convince Howell to restart development. The environments were no use to him until they were more real. Once Howell managed to fix a few flaws, Tommy's patients would be able to spend days at a time in the environments. They would be able to leave behind the limitations and pain-wracked bodies, and they would find a place where they could be what they had once been, instead of what they were. That was another thing. He would have to talk to Macon. No more of these impossible bodies. He would need to produce some bodies that looked realistic. He didn't think that his female patients wanted to walk around with breasts the size of watermelons, and waists the size of pencils. And even though his male patients might enjoy walking around in bodies that made Arnold Schwarzenneger look underdeveloped and weak, Tommy didn't think that would be very good for them. Tommy added another item to his list. New environments. They needed some places that weren't war zones, some places where people could live normal lives, drive normal cars, maybe even have normal jobs. All of this was going to take a lot of processing power. And a lot of storage space. How could they finance all of it. Maybe, if they could prove the concept, insurance would pay for it as a therapy. He would have to check into that. He added that to his list.
Yes, there was a lot left to do, but if they could get it all done, then, he could find redemption, and relief. Trackbacks
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