Read Online Set This House in Order by Matt Ruff - Free Book Online Page B

paraplegic was supposed to be able to program himself, using the headset-and-glove Landscaper interface. Though the interface had not yet materialized, I’d asked Julie about the application itself so many times that she’d finally had Dennis code a demo the hard way—and a representative from the Veterans Administration (we were careful not to call it “Dancing Cripples” in front of him ) had liked it enough to give us a five-thousand-dollar research grant.
    â€œAll right,” I said. “Let’s do that one.”
    â€œGood,” said Julie. “Andrew, why don’t you be the guy in the wheelchair? We’ll let Penny wear the data suit.”
    A data suit was a full-body version of a data glove. The Reality Factoryhad three data suits, each in a different size: one for large adults, one for small adults, and one for kids. Julie grabbed the kid-sized one for Penny.
    â€œYou’ll have to take this off, Mouse,” Julie said, tugging at one of the sleeves of Penny’s oversize sweater. Penny looked startled again, and made no move to do as she was told. “Here,” said Julie, “let me help you…” She stepped behind Penny, grabbed the sweater at the waist with both hands and started tugging it upwards.
    For just a moment Penny went rigid, resisting. There was an incredibly fast flickering of expressions on her face, as if she couldn’t make up her mind whether to be frightened or outraged or cooperative. I even saw—or thought I saw—a flash of anger so intense that it seemed Penny might turn around and hit Julie for presuming to undress her. But the anger vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Penny became passive; she let her arms be lifted into the air and let the sweater be lifted over them, and off.
    She wasn’t wearing much, underneath. In fact the only article of clothing beneath the sweater was a very skimpy tank top that bared Penny’s shoulders and collarbone, and left no doubt that she didn’t have a bra on. The tank top was bright pink, and had the words FUCK DOLL printed across the front. I must have blushed when I read that—and Penny, seeing me blush, hearing Dennis whistle, crossed her arms over her chest as if we’d caught her naked. Meanwhile Julie, crouched behind Penny and unable to see any of this, tried to get her to step into the legs of the data suit: “I need you to lift your right foot, Mouse…Mouse?”
    I went to get the wheelchair I’d be using for my part in the demo. The wheelchair itself was totally ordinary—more army surplus—but the data glove that went with it had been specially programmed to interpret individual finger movements as the movement of whole limbs. After I’d seated myself in the chair and, with Irwin’s help, got the data glove plugged into the network, Dennis punched another key at his terminal that caused a computer-generated mannequin figure to appear on the monitor in front of him. I curled my index finger in the glove, and the mannequin figure raised its left leg, kicking back; I curled my middle finger, and the figure raised its right leg; I tapped my index and middle fingers together against a sensor pad on the wheelchair armrest, and the figure clicked its heels and jumped in the air; I wiggled my thumb and pinky, and the figure waved its arms.
    â€œLooks good,” said Dennis. Next he turned his attention to Penny, who, with much coaxing, had finally let Julie zip her up inside the data suit. Thispart of the systems check took longer, because checking out the data suit requires that the person wearing it actually stand on one foot, jump up and down, wave his or her arms, etc., and Penny had become extremely self-conscious—but eventually, with still more nudging from Julie, the check was completed successfully.
    Now it was time to put on the headsets. As I’ve already mentioned, Irwin had designed these to be comfortable,