Six weeks later.

I stood across the street and frankly stared at the glass and metal office tower with the stylized P and I of the company logo. I had started researching Pandora Interactive after I was discharged. The company had started as a game software developer; eventually growing and expanding to create hardware, including the first full immersion virtual reality (FIVR) systems. Their latest FIVR development was the Second World System, advertised as the most realistic immersion available. The developer interviews stated that the games that used the new system used realistic physics and player capabilities rather than arbitrary game algorithms. Part of the new system required that players who wanted to use SWS had to visit a testing facility for a physical exam. Their first release using the new system, Beyond the Badlands, would have been sold out if it wasn’t downloadable directly to the immersion capsule.

What I hadn’t found though was any mention of a William O’Brian working for the company, though apparently he had paid the medical bill I had racked up from my hospital stay. So with some trepidation I found myself in front of the corporate office, with a fabric cast on my left arm to replace the plaster cast I had worn the previous week, and the man’s business card in my right hand.

Carefully crossing the street I moved up to the main door and went inside a typical corporate lobby. I approached the security desk which was manned by two guards, in much better shape than the typical retirees that usually worked the job, and said, “I’m not sure I have the right office. I was given this card and told to pay a William O’Brian a visit?”

The guard on my left took the card from my hand and looked at it, while the guard on the right studied me. I currently stood with an inexpensive prosthetic leg, a cane, and wore tan slacks and a black polo shirt. “You here for his special project?” the guard on the left asked.

I shook my head, “I don’t think so. He asked me to stop by when I had time so that we could talk. Am I in the correct office?”

Right Guard answered, “This is the correct office, but I don’t have an appointment scheduled for visitors today.”

Lefty was typing information into the computer and I could see the business card resting on some sort of scanner. I replied to the statement with, “That’s fine. If you see him just let him know Alexander Cayne stopped by.”

I turned and started my still unsteady walk to the door. Lefty called out, “Hang on.”

I half turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he continued, “Do you have some ID?”

Pulling out my driver’s license, I passed it over saying, “This is all I have now, but it’s been revoked until I can retake the test.”

After a brief examination, and a scan of the magnetic strip, he handed it back and said, “Please have a seat. Someone will be down in a moment.”

I must have looked confused as continued, “Each of these business cards has a code imprinted on it for authenticity. Mr. O’Brian values his privacy and rarely meets anyone outside the company. I have sent a message to him and he said he would meet you.”

That was interesting, apparently the reclusive man had some serious clout to make that kind of keep away policy and have it stick far enough to have his name not even appear on an organization chart. Pocketing my license I stepped over to a nearby chair and sat down. I pulled out my phone and started browsing for more information on the company while I waited.

It was about ten minutes later when a familiar young voice interrupted me, “Hey mister, what are you doing?”

I looked up into the light green eyes of the young Marie O’Brien. I smiled at the girl and said, “Trying to research your father. He’s a hard man to track down.”

She giggled and said, “He likes to say that he’s a bigger secret than next year’s releases.”

I felt sorry for the boys when this girl got older, she was going to break hearts left and right. I looked around to see who was escorting her. I saw both guards at the desk giving me a curious look while they watched my every move, and an older gentleman a few feet away who had the air of a butler as he watched the young lady.

I winked at the guards, feeling a little snarky, and said to her, “Are you here to take me to my meeting.”

She spun away from my chair and said, starting cheerful and then in an aggrieved tone, “Yes, but then it’s back to math class.”

Standing with the aid of the cane I asked, “You don’t like math?”

She took the hand that didn’t hold my cane and started to tug me towards an elevator as she answered, “It’s boring. I prefer my reading lessons.”

I laughed a little as I listened to the trials and tribulations of the girl who was treating me like I was family. We rode up the elevator, the older gentleman being silent but smiling at the enthusiasm of his charge, to the fortieth floor. Stepping out the girl bid farewell and went with what could only be either a butler or tutor for her as Mr. O’Brian stepped forward to greet me.

“Glad you could make it Mr. Cayne,” he said as he offered his hand.

I shook the hand while I said, “Alexander or Alex please, my father is still Mr. Cayne to me.”

“Alexander then, but only if you return the gesture,” he replied.

“I was in town to lose some of the hardware and I thought I should take you up on your offer to talk,” I said raising my left hand to display the missing plaster.

“Wonderful, I take it you are healing well then?” he asked as he motioned me to follow him to a set of comfortable chairs.

“Better than the doctor expected from what he said, but I’ve been asked to not stress my body,” I answered as I followed him.

The room didn’t look much like an office, more like a penthouse apartment living room. I took in the view out the window and the minimal decorations, and asked, “This isn’t an office is it?”

He laughed before answering, “Not in the typical sense. My wife, Marie’s mother, died five years ago. With all of my responsibilities for the company I had to choose between my family and my work. I chose family, Toby had other ideas.”

“Toby?” I asked, suspecting he referred to Tobias Green, the CEO of Pandora interactive.

“Tobias Green,” he confirmed, “one of my oldest friends. He had this floor renovated to its current state and moved my daughter and I in, telling me that my ideas were worth a floor of office space at the least. Since I rarely went out much anyway it worked for me. Marie loves the view as much as her mother did.”

I watched the sadness of a lost loved one cross his face to be pushed away with effort. It was easy to tell the man had loved his wife, and in today’s society it was uncommon for a man with the obvious wealth O’Brian had to give up on his livelihood to take care of a young girl on his own. My level of respect for the man grew steadily as we discussed family and home for a few minutes.

Before long I broached the subject he had originally mentioned in my hospital room, “You mentioned something about a potential job. As I said before I’m not really one for a desk job, nor do I understand much about computers beyond basic operations and a few troubleshooting tricks.”

“Well first I’m going to admit a little trespass on my part,” he said with a sheepish expression, “I did some research on you before I came to visit. Pandora has a few contracts with the military, due to the augmented training simulators.”

I nodded, I had seen an article about those training tools, and also how the company had donated similar training devices to firefighters and other emergency services across the country. I had a suspicion on where this conversation would go and I interrupted, “You managed to get access to my entry test results.”

He nodded, “You tested above average to exceptional in every physical test, above average in mental acuity and your aptitude scores would have qualified you for any post you would have wanted. It was the results of your psych evaluation that intrigued me the most though.”

I snorted, “According to the military I’m crazy. How did that intrigue you?”

He stared at me blankly for a minute before snorted out a short laugh and saying, “You never saw what the report actually said did you?”

I shook my head and he continued, “The ending quote is the most telling portion of the report. According to three separate psychiatrists you would ‘make an excellent warrior, but a poor soldier.’”

It was apparent to him that I didn’t understand, so he explained, “The report said that your personality and sense of morals wouldn’t let you step aside if an innocent was in danger. You would put your beliefs and your desire to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves ahead of whatever mission you were given. A former special operations operative was consulted and agreed that while you would likely meet any physical or mental challenge you were given, your personality and sense of right and wrong would interfere. He went on to say that you would likely excel in a job where your drive to protect could be expressed, such as a firefighter or search and rescue.”

I considered that for a minute. I couldn’t argue the summary. I had grown up reading comic books and classic tales of heroes where the innocents were protected and the lines between right and wrong were clear. I shrugged and asked, “Why did that interest you?”

“Beyond the clear demonstration that you would be willing to put yourself between danger and an innocent, it led me to believe you might be an excellent candidate for a project I have been working on for the company,” he answered.

“Would this be the special project the guard mentioned?” I asked.

“No, but it would start with that. This is something else, and would be a bit of a test. First let’s discuss that project. Did you do your research on the company enough to look into the Second World System?”

After I nodded he continued, “We are working on an experimental project for SWS. It would allow us to take historical test data for a subject, or multiple subjects, and use that for the character avatar. For example your military test results could be used for your physical capabilities in immersion, rather than your current state.”

I looked down at my missing leg and considered. If another person’s information, or even past information could be substituted in the system then a person without legs could run again. It also meant that, I blurted it out before I could stop myself “You’re going to give those with disabilities a way to live a life with their disability removed.”

He smiled, “Yes, the blind could see and the deaf would be able to hear. You could run and jump again at your old capabilities.”

My mind spun over possibilities as I responded, “There are Olympic class athletes with prosthetic limbs. My injuries aren’t a significant enough hurdle to get me a place in such a project.”

I trailed off as an idea slipped into the forefront of my mind and I stared at O’Brian. It couldn’t be possible, but ten years ago nobody believed that full immersion virtual reality would truly exist either. I couldn’t resist asking, “Your other project; it includes repairing the damage or disability doesn’t it.”

He smiled and answered, “The test was correct, you are quick on your mental feet. Yes, we have completed significant testing that indicates we could repair or replace a damaged limb. Teaching the limb to operate seamlessly with the rest of the body can be done with the immersion technology we have. It takes time to calibrate properly, and if we receive the clearance to run human trials you would be in a immersion pod for a period of time while procedures are done, but yes you could have your leg back.”

I was speechless, this was huge. If Pandora had really reached the stage of testing on human subjects then this could change the face of society. Militaries across the world would pay huge amounts of money to have their veterans returned to duty after major injuries, and if immersion was a requirement in the process people could learn new skills while they healed. It would be like combining college with extensive surgery, without the same downtime. I asked, “How far off are these trials?”

“We expect about six months, which would allow us enough time to properly calibrate for the procedure,” he answered.

I considered a moment before saying, “I like the idea, but what would I be doing in the interim.”

He smiled slyly and said, “Well, that depends. How do you feel about being a paid beta tester for a new game?”

I looked at him as a grin formed on my face before I replied, “You want me to beta test a game using the new version of the Second World System as part of the calibration. How many birds are you getting with this stone?”

He grinned back at me, “As many as I can manage. Plus I think this new game should appeal to your personality. Tell me, how would you feel about being a superhero?”

I couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted from me as I said, “Sounds like fun. When do we begin?”