The Administration Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

Then, with a smile, he left Toreth in the hands of a technician.
    The preparation took much longer than he expected. The technician explained what he was doing as they went along — a body scan to create an accurate physical representation for the sim, neurological baseline measurements and other personal calibrations. Toreth nodded, made interested noises at intervals, and otherwise didn't pay much attention.
    Eventually, Warrick reappeared. "All done?" he asked the technician, who nodded and then left the room. "Excellent. Take a chair, please."
    Toreth picked one at random and sat down.
    "Settle your arms in. Get them comfortable."
    Toreth did so, and Warrick pulled padded restraints from the sides of the armrests and began to strap his arms down. He didn't pull them anywhere near as tight as Toreth would have done, but then he was dealing with a volunteer, something outside Toreth's expertise.
    "Why does it need the restraints?" Toreth asked.
    "I thought I explained all that at the seminar."
    "Explain it again."
    "The sim is a kind of dream, to put it very crudely. It feeds sensation in through normal sensory channels via the peripheral nervous system, and also by direct stimulation of the CNS, at the same time masking real-world inputs. Then, under the guidance of the computer, the brain interprets those signals as if they were real."
    Warrick moved down and began tightening straps across Toreth's legs. "The system should induce sleep paralysis for the duration of the sim, but that part, I'm afraid, still requires fine tuning. Sometimes the body mirrors the movements in the sim and it's possible to cause damage to oneself."
    "Or to the very expensive machine?"
    Warrick smiled. "Quite."
    "Why not just use a muscle relaxant?"
    Warrick paused, both hands resting lightly on Toreth's thigh. This time the smile was an odd half-curve of the lips, which didn't bring any warmth to his eyes. "System flexibility. We don't have the luxury of assuming potential users will be drugged."
    He stood and walked round behind Toreth. "Get your head comfortable."
    Leaning back into the padded headrest, Toreth moved his neck until he could relax. "All right."
    Warrick fitted a restraining strap across his forehead. "You aren't at all claustrophobic, are you?" he enquired, and before he even finished the question he lowered the visor.
    Toreth wasn't claustrophobic, but for a few seconds he seriously considered it as an option. The visor was totally opaque, with heavy padding over his ears. His eyelashes barely brushed against some kind of components right in front of his eyes. The mask stretched down over his entire face, curving round to rest against his throat; he swallowed, feeling the padded edge against his larynx.
    There was a long moment of silence, then a humming in his ears as sounds returned.
    "Say 'yes' if you can hear me," Warrick instructed.
    The sound quality was so good Toreth could hardly believe it was coming over speakers. Then he realised it wasn't — it had to be direct nerve induction. "Yes, I hear you," he said.
    He also heard a door open and close, and then footsteps as someone else entered the room.
    "Good," Warrick said. "Now, you're about ready so I'll get myself set up. Once we're in the sim you don't need to talk — just subvocalize as if you were using any other throat microphone. If you speak out loud, you'll get a slightly strange echo effect in the sim. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."
    Warrick's voice had grown softer, and then came back loudly again. The person Toreth had heard enter must have been strapping Warrick into one of the other chairs.
    "While we're waiting," Warrick said, "I'd like you to choose a word and say it out loud. Some people don't react well to the sim. If you start to feel dizzy, or sick, or if you want out for any reason at all, say the word and the computer will disconnect you automatically and immediately. I suggest you make it something you won't say accidentally."
    "Chevril,"