“Hey, motherfuckers!” Lulu shouted into the microphone. “My name is Farm Girl Gigi! We’re here to melt your goddamned faces off! The concert starts in a few minutes. Don’t be shy. Come on in. We’re just waiting for you to get a little closer to start the show.”
I gave one last glance at the monitor. The people on the ground had thankfully left. Those on the wall were still turned, watching us, waving. Cheering.
I looked at Sam. “Not exactly how I imagined our first show would go.”
He laughed. “Not exactly. But somehow, I think this will be better. You’ll see.”
I pulled the visor of the immersion rig helmet over my eyes, and with my right hand, I pressed the connect button.
Welcome, Hobie Martin. Ready?
Make sure you are in a safe place.
I chuckled at that.
I clickedDeploy.
God, I hope this works.
You are now onboarding ontoOperation Bounce House. Please wait.
Chapter 44
Of all the players we’d faced so far, the one with the least amount of security on his account had been the kid Hobie Martin, who was now sitting in juvenile detention for shoplifting alcohol. Roger had hacked in easily, and after a few settings changes, plus a new charge to the mom’s credit card, we’d connected my military-grade immersion rig to his account. Apparently, the password on his Subhuman Slayer account was the exact characters he had painted on the side of the mech.
Because I’d been the one to set up the helmet in the first place, I was the only one who could do this, unfortunately. Luckily, the biometrics were tied to the rig itself, not to the game.
I knew the home version of these rigs had all sorts of safety features installed. Luckily the military ones knew they would be used under much more rigorous conditions.
The immersion rigs used something called virtual pass-through. I still had control of my real arms and legs, but I could also control arms and legs virtually. It was like you suddenly had four arms, and your real ones were the lower ones. People called them their ghost arms, and the ghost arms were what you used to play the game. Ittook some getting used to. A lot of people literally fastened down their real arms to get it right.
I’d already spent an hour getting used to it. The sensation was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The helmet had a built-in Ping-Pong game that trained you to use your virtual limbs without moving your real ones.
The real helmets would literally turn off if you moved from your “safety circle” while immersed. The military versions did not, thankfully.
Ready, Citizen Soldier?
A star field appeared in my vision, and my arms and legs suddenly felt as if they were asleep.
Clap your virtual hands together.
I did as the prompt asked, but I screwed it up and clapped my real hands. The two drumsticks still in my grip clacked together.
Handshake failed. Do not use your real hands. Clap your virtual hands.
I concentrated. I had to basically imagine my hands moving together, and the thing’s connection to my brain or whatever knew. Fuck, I was nervous as shit.Concentrate, asshole. If little kids can do this, you can, too.
I clapped my virtual hands together.
Handshake complete.
Your new mech has been built per your design. Thank you for participating in our beta. Thank you for signing up for our seconddeployment. Your weapons are currently offline while you remain in orbit. You will be loaded into a drop ship shortly. Please wait.
I blinked, and a wave of nausea swept over me. In both hands were joysticks. I could feel them—sort of—in my virtual hands. There was this strange, haptic feedback when I touched things. I tried to move one, and an info box popped up.
You may not control your mech until you arrive on the battlefield.
The sensation continued to be odd. It wasn’t one-to-one with real life, and there was an instant of panic as the immersion took a few seconds to adjust. I’d read about this, about the first few moments of immersion. Some people equated it to the sensation of drowning even though they could breathe.
