"I don't want to wake up," Miriam groaned.

"No, you need to wake up. I want you to know as much as possible about the VE and its support system before we start."

"I thought you gave me the full dissertation already." Miriam opened her eyes, looking over at Dana, at his fingers clenched around the steering wheel. "Are you nervous?"

"No."

"Then let me sleep. I had a late night last night."

"You should have gone to bed early."

"I had a recital."

"Oh . . . ."

"And a celebration afterward."

"You should have gone to bed early," he repeated. "Did you finish going over the program plan?"

"Yes."

"Do you have it memorized?"

"Practically."

"You need to be prepared. I want you to be as confident as possible when you go through this. It's important."

Miriam sighed, turning toward the window, peering out at the barren landscape. Late-winter snow still dotted the earth, dark and grimy along the roadside. The lakes were still clouded and frozen over. Naked trees raised skeleton-like branches toward a thick, grey sky. In the seeming lifelessness of her surroundings, Miriam saw a reflection of her fears.

She was about to enter another dimension of sorts, one that she considered just as barren as the snow-filled ditches that spread beyond the road. Dana had talked her into immersing herself in his experimental Virtual Reality program. She, as a rather bohemian-type painter and professional dancer, had developed something of a prejudice against his work in the VE field; she tended to talk about his job with vague interest and occasional mutterings about "people who can't be bothered to work for betterment in the real world" and "replacing a perfectly good environment with a heap of synthetic crap." The VE realm seemed little more than a selfish imitation of life. But Dana had fended off her judgments by taking a humanitarian approach.

Dana was testing a new net-VE to see how slight a connection between an illusion and the brain's synapses could be, while still affecting the body the same way real stimuli would. The program utilized hypnosis to increase the virtual environment's illusion of reality. He hoped that through this type of hypnosis, he would be able to provide a therapeutic landscape for people who had few other options. Limited mobility, confinement to hospitals, and overbearing traumas could all be temporarily escaped through hypnotic virtual reality programs.

Each user in the program was suspended in a harness in the middle of a Cave Automatic Virtual Environment. The synthetic portal would allow them to experience a computer-generated world, interacting with the artificial realm as well as with one another. Censors inside the CAVEs would relay their movements to the computers, and the computers would communicate with one another through an internet connection, thus bringing everyone into harmony. The manual that Dana had provided described a network of graphics engines, controls, communication devices, and other internal systems that was simply too complicated for Miriam to comprehend. Despite her reservations, she had to admire Dana's ability to craft such a thing practically on his own.

Miriam remained apprehensive, yet curious, about the effects of hypnosis in virtual reality. She had never successfully been placed under hypnosis, and she wanted to know how it would impact her senses, especially with respect to her emotions and her perception of others. According to the manual Dana had typed up, the hypnosis program for this VE allowed the users to remain aware that they were hypnotized; so there would be some lucidity in the dream world.

"I don't think hypnosis would work on me," Miriam had claimed when Dana suggested the experiment to her. "I've tried stuff like that before, and it didn't have any effect."

"Well, that doesn't necessarily matter." Dana was sitting in his cluttered corporate office, alone with Miriam under the dim after-hours glow of a single fluorescent light. "It may have been the method, or you might not have opened yourself to it. Did you really want to be hypnotized?"

She shrugged. "Probably not. I didn't really trust any of the hypnotists." She paused. "Or myself. I was a little afraid of what I might do under hypnosis."

"Well, there you go. You know, you don't seem very suggestible to me, but you could work on that. I would really like you to help me test this program."

She raised her eyebrows. "I don't want to be more suggestible. I always got the impression that people who are hypnotized easily are also pretty easy to persuade. You know -- gullible."

"No, it's not like that at all." Dana leaned toward her emphatically, making defensive gestures with his hands. "Suggestibility isn't the same as gullibility; you can be suggestible and totally rational at the same time. All it means is that you're open to ideas that aren't part of your long-standing paradigm of thought. And that can be a good thing. If you're going through life thinking that you're no good and you can't achieve your dreams, hypnosis can be used to open you up to the notion that you really are good enough."

Miriam was quiet for a moment, battling her own consent. "I guess that could make sense . . . ."

"Hypnosis is used in a lot of types of therapy nowadays. People use hypnotherapy to overcome fears, to quit smoking, to lose weight; it's really just a matter of quieting the voices in your head that tell you you're not good enough, you're not complete enough, you're not whole. If a hypnotherapist can help you convince yourself that you're fine, that you don't need someone else's approval and you don't need to gorge yourself to fill some kind of gaping hole in your psyche, then there's no way you can dismiss hypnosis. You can't even say it's just placebo, because hypnosis is all about the power of suggestion anyway."

Dana swiveled back toward the computer, his glasses reflecting light from the screen, his eyes obscured behind vague images. "You're locked in this battle with consumerism and society," he went on, "with these messages telling you that you're helpless, you can't get anywhere without a crutch, you're incomplete without commercial products and popular approval. Hypnosis helps strengthen you against those messages. What it actually does - in part, anyway - is calm the sympathetic response of your autonomic nervous system . . . ." He looked up for a moment, his eyes shining with gentle curiosity. "Do you know what that is?"

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about." Miriam suppressed a grin, enjoying the flushed, eager look on his face that appeared whenever he talked about his work. At other times, he tended to be guarded and shy; Miriam loved to watch him fumble for words, lower his eyes, drum his fingers nervously. It was one of the characteristics that had drawn her to him. But lately, she had been developing more respect for this other guise. If she simply mentioned Dana's work, he would begin to open up to her, dropping the hesitant mannerisms for something slightly more intimate.

"Okay." He was looking at the screen again, wonderfully oblivious. "Your autonomic nervous system is the part that regulates your inner workings, like your heartbeat, your glands, your breathing, chemical releases from your brain; and it can respond to external stimuli. Like, if something scares you, your heart beats faster. Right?"

"Uh-huh."

"That type of reaction would be a sympathetic reaction. Fear, excitement, desire, all those things can cause the autonomic nervous system to act up. But there's an opposite reaction, a parasympathetic reaction, that causes the system to relax in the same situations. Meditation is supposed to help people learn to engage the parasympathetic response. Your body relaxes instead of going berserk. You stay calm. Hypnotherapy is supposed to have the same effect as meditation - and I'm using this as an example because I know that you meditate. There's really not a big difference. Hypnosis is designed to help you calm down and engage the parasympathetic nervous system, so you're not responding to fear or anxiety. You're in control of yourself. Hypnosis really isn't about giving up control at all." He cast a sly glance at her. "Have I convinced you yet?"

She looked away, breaking eye contact, staring intently at the screen. "Sure."

Dana's voice took on a suspicious tone. "Why are you smiling like that?"

Miriam tried to smother the grin on her face, tried to ward off the self-conscious hesitance that always overcame him at moments like these. His nervousness was cute; but the open, confident Dana was simply easier to work with. "I just like hearing you talk about your work," she replied.

"Well, good, because I'm just starting. And I'm not going to stop until I get you to try this."

Eventually, his arguments had worn her down; and now here she was, on her way to the actual event, and trying to dispel her nervousness. She wasn't really that tired. Napping was a way to ignore her anxieties. Miriam tried to go through the experience in her mind, imagining all the impressions she might get from the false reality, the impact they would have on her mind and body. Dana hadn't programmed the environment to create specific virtual bodies, or avatars, for the users. The hypnotic element of the VE allowed each user to create a perception of the other participants; each of them would appear in the VE according to the user's own expectations, combined with some subtle effects from the VE. This was just the beginning of a series of hypnosis-induced tricks that Miriam would experience during the session. She looked at the cryptic final paragraph in Dana's manual:

User manipulation of environment: 97% (exceptions for overall space limitation and contact limit with threatening entity). Realistic outcomes of all possible manipulation: incomplete.

Instance report:

It ended there. "What's this about a threatening entity?" Miriam asked.

"Oh, you'll see. I want to surprise you," he replied in a wily tone.

"You want to surprise me with a threatening entity. Well, now I'm not nervous about this at all."

He laughed. "There's nothing to worry about. It'll be fun. Alec will explain it to you when you get there."

"What if I don't get hypnotized?"

"Then I'll unhook you, and we can try it again another time."

"Does the helmet go over my entire head?"

"No, it just goes over your eyes, and there are separate earphones that hook to your ears. Smells, taste, and touch are triggered solely by the associations you make with what you're seeing and hearing in the program; only sight and sound are actually administered by the VE. Let's say you've never smelled a rose, and you smell one in the VE. Your brain comes up with a substitute smell, or you perceive that a rose doesn't have a smell. But if you know what a rose smells like, even if it's been twenty years since you've smelled one, your brain will dig up the memory, and you will actually smell the rose even though it isn't actually there. It's a phenomenon that pertains largely to a person's faith. I mean, you've heard of people performing seemingly miraculous feats simply because they have faith in themselves; and the impact that a person's beliefs can have on reality is especially strong during hypnosis. You believe that these things are happening to you, and so your body reacts as though they are happening to you."

"I was just reading a study on that sort of thing. There was a woman under hypnosis who was holding a pencil, and when the hypnotist told her that the pencil was heating up and starting to burn her hand, it actually started to burn her flesh."

"Right; it's all power of suggestion. In hypnosis, people demonstrate how much influence they can have on reality."

"But they don't have an effect on reality in general, right?" Miriam asked doubtfully. "I mean, this woman's skin was burning because someone convinced her that it was burning. But if the hypnotist said, 'If you don't drop that pencil, rays of heat will come out of the pencil and burn my flesh,' then his flesh wouldn't burn. Right?"

"Well, I guess not. As far as we know, it's only the people under hypnosis who are affected by the power of suggestion. But there are other unexplainable phenomena out there involving the manipulation of matter through unknown forces. You know - poltergeists, mediums who perform miraculous healing feats without any instruments; stuff like that."

"Incidentally, I also came across an article about how television images are broadcast as a series of rapid flashing lights," Miriam said, studying Dana's face as she spoke. "Isn't that what you're using to hypnotize us as we go into the program?"

He hesitated. "Yeah, sort of. But there's more to it than that. I use a voiceover, and there a lot of other audio cues to help the process along."

"So you flash some lights at us through a video screen, and make suggestions about the state of mind we should be in."

He laughed. "I know what you're getting at." Miriam abhorred television; she didn't own a set, and refused to spend her leisure time watching shows; she claimed that the programs were "ridiculous" and designed around advertisements, and yet had a hypnotic effect that would suck up all her free time.

"There's some good stuff on TV," Dana insisted.

"Yes, it's just a schmorgasboard of creative genius and integrity."

"All right, let's not go there. I want to make sure you understand the VE's impact on you."

"I get it," Miriam tried to reassure him. "It's all about the state of mind you're in; the hypnosis puts you in an altered state of mind so that you have no actual control over the impact that your false surroundings have on you."

"Well, that's not entirely true, but that's what I'm worried about." Dana was suddenly serious; the excitement vanished from his tone. "There's an element of control to all this that bothers me. When someone hypnotizes you, that person can have some substantial power over you. So this program I created has a certain amount of power over the user, and I need to make sure it's not going to hurt anyone."

"But you and Alec have already tested it several times, haven't you?"

"We have, but we're both familiar with the theory and the technical operations of the VE. I need to test it on inexperienced users. And we're only two people; I need to explore some of the problems that might come up with multiple users. But the research process is going too fast, which is just typical. My company wants to get right to marketing and distribution, and I don't feel like they're giving me enough time to explore all the potential dangers. This program could be made a lot safer - and it will be made safer with time, but right now it's a little shaky, and there's only so much we can work with. I feel like it's too early to be designing a product of this type for the general public. But it's going to be out on the market soon in any case, unless something terrible happens."

"So you're hoping that something terrible will happen, so the distribution can be delayed; is that what you're getting at?" Miriam asked, only half joking.

He smiled somberly. "No; it's just that the company is so intent on beating all our competitors and getting the product out first. It's really making me lose enthusiasm for the project. If we could even get more people to work on it, it would be going a lot faster; but there's basically just me and Alec."

"Yeah, why is that?" During the brief tours at Dana's office, Miriam had noticed that in the research and development area, there were usually no less than twenty people working on any given VE. Only Dana's project was sparsely attended.

"Everyone's scared of it," Dana replied. "It's weird. Everyone is thrilled about it, and they're constantly asking about it; but no one will touch it until we've proven that it's safe. The higher-ups are the most nervous. They have the same notion about hypnosis that you did - that during hypnosis, we give up all self-control to the hypnotist, and become puppets. I have to demonstrate that we can use hypnosis to enhance our own power." He made a sudden, sharp turn off the highway; Miriam gripped the door handle to balance herself.

"Here we are," he announced, coming to a halt in a small suburban driveway.

Miriam caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure through the bay windows of the house. She recognized the silhouette. A moment later, Leeann was poking her head through the front door, grinning wide, her permed hair blowing in the cold wind. Leeann waved and mouthed the words "just a minute" before disappearing back into the house.

"She looks excited," Miriam noted.

"Yes, she does; she looks ready to go. She's probably waiting for Alec to finish doing his hair."

Miriam chuckled. Leeann and Alec were Dana's co-workers; and today, they would be accompanying Miriam and Dana into the VE. Alec was something of a co-conspirator on the project, and had entered the VE on prior occasions; but Leeann was a first-timer, and clearly thrilled at the opportunity. In the brief moment that Miriam had glimpsed her in the doorway, Leeann was spewing radiance.

The two came bounding from the house minutes later, looking like giddy children on their way to an amusement park. A fond smile spread over Miriam's face as she watched them. Although she knew neither of them well, she was always pleased by their exuberance, and a bit tickled by their appearance. Dana's comment about Alec's vanity had probably been on the mark. The man was well manicured, all trained muscles, thick hair, whitened teeth, and pampered skin. Some time ago, when he and Leeann had been a couple, they had been widely referred to as "Barbie and Ken" - and the two never failed to object to the label with seemingly genuine bewilderment.

"Thanks for picking us up, buddy," Alec said as he jumped into the car. "Hey, Miriam. Are you ready for the big day?"

"As ready as I can be," Miriam replied mildly.

The group exchanged pleasantries and jokes as they headed out of the suburb, but Miriam soon began to slip into herself, thinking about the implications of what she was about to do. The specter of hypnosis still hovered over her. She had to admit to herself that she was afraid of losing control; and even more intensely, she was disturbed by the prospect of being manipulated by illusions.

The hypnotic virtual environment was like a dream state, except that the impact on the dreamer's body was real. Miriam lived in an age when the development of fantasy through video games was immensely popular among both children and adults; the video game had become the remedy for dashed hopes and mundane routine. Adventure, violence, myth, majesty, and sexual intrigue were the main centers populated by gamers. But the available games weren't enough. People wanted the proof of their experiences in the fantasy worlds. The hypnotic VE felt real, and it left marks; its users could "actually" get what they couldn't really get.

Dana's qualms about the dangers of the game had stopped at a certain point. He was excited about his work, and pursued his goals tirelessly. In his enthusiasm, he had requested to set up a second workshop at his home, so that he could work on the project in his spare time. The company had generously let him take the necessary equipment home with him.

As Dana turned into his neighborhood, Miriam could see a row of Tibetan flags at the far end, slanting from a rooftop down toward the earth. The car pulled up alongside them, and the group clambered out noisily.

"New flags, Dana?" Alec asked.

"My sister gave them to me for my birthday."

"Well, now I feel like I got you a crappy gift. I should have gotten you something more complementary to your interests."

"Did you put the Buddha in the program?" Leeann asked.

Dana came to a halt on the front step, looking slightly forlorn. "No, I didn't think of that. You know, that's a really good idea. How therapeutic would that be? Next time I make a VE, I should put the Dalai Lama in there, or something."

Miriam smiled at his earnestness. She had always considered Dana's passion for Buddhism an odd contrast to his interest in virtual environments and artificial life. She knew she was being too judgmental about Dana's hobbies; he had a very visible humanitarian leaning, along with a remarkable sensitivity that always revealed itself when he talked about spirituality. Miriam had initially met him at conferences on the military takeover of Haiti, where the U.S. had helped oust a democratically elected leader and slaughter countless thousands of people. Several months earlier, Dana had had taken a break from work and driven across two states to see the Dalai Lama, the exiled spiritual leader of Tibet, who had been touring the U.S. Dana liked to tell Miriam with a mixture of excitement and dismay how, as the Lama drew near, he became overwhelmed with emotion and started to cry. Dana's eyes had filled with tears, blurring his vision so that he couldn't see the monk as he passed.

"I missed it," he would say, shaking his head. "I felt like I had emotionally pissed myself. I had waited all this time and traveled all this distance to see this person who I absolutely look up to, and then I lost control and couldn't even look at the guy. But," he would add, "I guess that being overwhelmed like that is just part of the deal."

Symbols of Dana's spiritual devotion were scattered among the electronic rubble that defined his greater fixation. On a living room wall was a yellow-and-red poster that read "Free Tibet." On the overloaded bookshelf was a Buddha incense burner, wedged between a giant Rubix cube and a Darth Vader robot. As Miriam went to hang her coat, the asthmatic-sounding robot waved its light saber at her and mocked her Jedi powers.

"Cute," Miriam said.

"Um, I got that from my cousin," Dana explained uncomfortably.

Alec raised an eyebrow. "I thought you bought it at the Star Wars convention."

"Shut up."

Dana's workshop was set up in what had originally been the master bedroom. Dana and Alec had enlarged the room, knocking down the interior walls and re-building them further into the house, narrowing the hallway and cutting the living room in half. The workshop was no less cramped than the spaces it had overtaken; sunlight filtered in through the dusty blinds and illuminated countless, unrecognizable forms dangling from hooks, crammed into shelves, and heaped on the floor.

Dana flicked on the light. "This is where the adventure begins," he said.

Miriam's eyes were immediately drawn to the four synthetic cocoons in the middle of the room. Each had an open door, and she had a clear view of the interior of the first cocoon. Two poles arced down from the top, each ending in a ball-and-socket device to which a series of thick straps and clips were connected. A helmet hung on a hook on the wall. The helmet, too, was connected to a series of straps and cables. The curved walls were speckled with wired devices.

Eric gestured to the cocoons. "These are the CAVEs, where you'll be strapped in before you go into the VE."

"Those things?" Miriam asked in awe. "They look like torture devices."

Dana laughed. "This is how we get full mobility and immersion. When the doors close, the sensors are in place to record every movement. We have to isolate you so that outside movements don't interfere."

"They're tons of fun, Miriam," Alec insisted. "It's just like an amusement park ride, except that somebody ties you into it and hypnotizes you so there's absolutely no hope of escape."

Dana ignored him, missing the nervous look on Miriam's face. "I'm connecting you all from different computers," he continued, "so you'll be interacting on an internet program. You'll share the space in the VE and have equal impact on it. The changes you produce will be in real time, but if two or more of you make a simultaneous competitive action - say, if two of you are trying to grab something, and you both get it at about the same time, the computer needs a moment to calculate who actually got it. So you might perceive that you've successfully done something in the VE, but then realize shortly after that someone else's action interfered and cancelled your action."

"We can have a fistfight to demonstrate this phenomenon," Alec said. "I'll fight any one of you."

"I'll fight you," Leeann said.

Alec opened his mouth, and then hesitated. "You've been taking boxing lessons." He turned to Miriam. "Not including Leeann, I'll fight any one of you."

"I'm sure there's a friendly way to demonstrate the time delay," Miriam said.

"Sure there is. Dana, are we taking the cameras on our trip?"

"Yeah, I have them set up." Dana gestured toward a rack on the wall, and Alec gingerly removed a small bundle of gear from it. "I'll connect them to you after you're strapped in."

Alec showed the equipment to Miriam and Leeann. "Dana has made some digital cameras and walkie-talkies for us," he said.

"When you appear in the VE, you'll have these belts on," Dana explained. "You'll be able to see them and use them. There are two pieces of equipment in the holsters. This one is a camera. It'll be connected to your computer, so when you take pictures in the VE, the computer will make a copy of the projected image and save it for you. The other one is a walkie-talkie; that's connected to the computer too, so if we get separated in the VE, we can still communicate with each other."

"So we'll have pictures from our trip to the VE?" Miriam asked.

"Yeah. There's a limit on the numbers of pictures you can take. The images will be created digitally, but I designed the cameras in the VE to look like my old thirty-five millimeter. You can just look at the display to see how many shots you have left. I think I programmed twelve for each user. You can actually get them developed at a photo shop at the end of the VE. I thought it would be fun for you to sit around and look at all your photos and drink cocktails - or smoothies -" he smiled at Miriam - "before you come back to reality."

"Dana, come with us," Leeann begged suddenly. "It won't be as much fun without you."

"No, not this time," Dana said with mock sadness. "Someone has to be the guardian angel. I have to stay outside the program and keep watch over you."

"We'll be fine. I'm familiar with this type of program, so there's only one novice here -" Leeann glanced pointedly at Miriam - "and if you're in the environment, you'll be able to keep an eye on her."

"I don't know," Dana said doubtfully. "I really would like to stay out of the hypnotic environment while you three are in there, just in case -"

"But you and Alec have been in there dozens of times, right? Come on, it'll be fun. If something happens, you can just pull one of the alarms, and we'll get pulled out of hypnosis."

"Well . . . ." Dana was hesitant, but Miriam saw the eagerness in his face.

"Take your VE watch," Alec said. "Even if there's a problem with the emergency pulls, you'll still be able to hit your watch stop, and that'll pull you out of hypnosis; then you can get the rest of us out."

"I don't know," Dana said again. "Miriam, what do you think?"

"Me?"

"I don't want to do it if you don't feel safe."

"Well, I don't know if it's safe or not. You should know better than me."

"Here - I have an idea." He turned and sat down at a computer. "I'll put the program on a timer. If we haven't pulled out of the environment in eight hours, then the computer will know there's a problem, and it'll undo the hypnosis. That way, we'll have three safety stops: the alarms, my watch, and the timer."

"So you're coming with us?" Leeann asked delightedly.

"I guess so . . . unless there are any objections?" He looked at Miriam again, but she shrugged.

"Okay. Alec, will you start strapping Leeann into the first CAVE?"

Alec pulled a stool into one of the portals. Leeann stood immobile, waiting for him to fasten her into the harness.

"Here, Miriam, you can use this one." Dana beckoned Miriam into another CAVE. She imitated Leeann, standing perfectly still as Dana's hands moved over the straps. He fit her into the harness first, tightening it around her waist and between her legs. "Let me know if it's uncomfortable," he said.

"Okay," she replied. She was mentally floating now, distracting herself with distant, alien thoughts, trying to ignore the feeling of Dana's hands sliding against her abdomen and the comfortable pressure of the harness between her thighs.

Dana fastened another belt around her ribs. Two more were fitted over her shoulders, joining another strap at her chest. "Okay, step up," he instructed her.

Miriam gingerly climbed onto the stool.

"You won't necessarily be moving for real," Dana explained as he hooked the harness into the suspension device, "even when you're moving around in the VE. But many of your VE movements do play into reality, and if you weren't suspended in the CAVEs, your movements would be inhibited and could interfere with your experience. But these CAVEs are designed so that any movements you make will be pretty fluid. Okay, try moving."

Miriam swung her arms and legs freely. She almost felt as though she was playing with a toy, a harness-type swing set for a very young child.

"Okay, it looks good. Now I'm going to attach your helmet. Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

He brought in the helmet, and Miriam felt mingled excitement and fear. Cords trailed behind it, keeping it hooked into the computers, where the hypnosis program would sweep her away into an imaginary world. Dana pulled the contraption gently over her head. The helmet's video screen was wide, arcing from the bridge of her nose over the top and sides of her head. She could see nothing else.

Dana positioned her earphones and microphone before fastening the strap beneath her chin. "Comfortable?" he asked.

"I'm good enough." Miriam turned her head slowly back and forth, staring into the blank screen that curved all around her vision. She could feel Dana guiding the wires down her back and clipping them to her belt. He attached them again at her right heel, and then she heard him move away.

"Do you feel okay?"

"Yes," Miriam lied.

"That's it, then. That's how you'll go into hypnosis. Now you just wait for the program to start."

"Okay." A nervous dread began to creep up Miriam's spine. She didn't want to be hypnotized. She felt trapped in the CAVE, tied up and blindfolded, about to lose control of her senses. She thought about alerting the others and backing out of the session. After a moment's thought, she realized how embarrassed she would be afterward; the others were so excited to be going into the program. There's only one novice here . . . . Miriam tried to push down her fear.

As if he sensed her sudden panic, Dana said, "If you need anything or want me to unhook you, just let me know, okay?"

"Okay." Miriam kept her mouth shut while she waited for the others to get settled. Dana helped Alec fasten himself in, and then took a few minutes to fiddle with equipment and situate himself in the CAVE. Miriam heard the sounds of his movement over the rhythmic pounding in her helmet. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she could not calm herself. She began to doubt that the hypnosis would work on her.

Dana had apparently finished suspending himself inside the CAVE; Miriam heard him kick away the footstool, and she had a sudden, grotesque vision of someone hanging himself.

The program started. She heard Dana's voice first: "Welcome, participants! I would like to start the hypnosis with a stress reduction technique. There are two parts to this technique. First, I need to know if you know what happened to the guy who farted in church."

Miriam stared at the blank screen. "What?"

"He had to sit in his own pew," Dana's voice continued. Miriam heard bursts of laughter from the other CAVEs.

Without much pause, another voice took over: Now, we're going to relax together. Listen to my voice. Let everything go. Breathe deep. Relax. Relax your arms. Relax your shoulders. Deeper . . . let all the tension go . . . . The female-sounding voice was soft, but confident and alluring. Miriam was lulled by its tones. Her breathing slowed as she listened to the gentle commands. She let her shoulders sink, let her head slide back into the calm caress of the invisible therapist.

Now we're going to see some light. Relax and let it melt into you. A faint light glimmered and slowly brightened as the voice continued its gentle reassurances. After spending a minute or two at a steady glow, the light seemed to waver. The wavering intensified and turned into distinct, hypnotic pulses.

The strobe was overwhelming; its beats were countless, too rapid to grasp. Miriam closed her eyes against the barrage of flashes, but they pierced relentlessly through her eyelids. This is supposed to be calming? Miriam wondered. A moment later, she remembered her vow to let go, to be suggestible. Of course the lights were supposed to be calming. She just wasn't seeing them the right way.

She settled into the beats, let herself be overwhelmed. The voice was sucking her away, gently and sensually. Now: sleep. Miriam breathed deeply and easily. Several minutes must have passed, but she couldn't be sure. She was following the strobe, slowing down with the beats. They were manageable now. The pulses had begun to tinkle with sound.

She focused on the chimes. They were ordered, communicative, describing something magical and wordless. Miriam instantly realized what was happening. She was hearing the invisible mechanisms of creation, the vibrations that weren't supposed to be perceived by the human ear. They had slipped through the sheath of her ordinary senses. The hypnosis was opening her up, helping her relax into a more perceptive state. Miriam could almost interpret the narrative. The magical chimes were telling a story, and the story was about Miriam.

But the voiceover was getting persistent, sucking her away from the chimes. She lost the abstract narrative. The chimes swirled away, out of her grasp, as she moved toward some kind of light. She was suspended in a sideways lake, groping forward to break the water's surface; her eyelids were the surface, and the bright sky was beyond them, its image muddled by a tension between the two elements.

She was at the last stage of hypnosis. Time to take the next step. Miriam shook herself out of her delirium, trying to focus on her body.

Somewhere among the suggestions and instructions still being spewed by the voiceover, Miriam heard Leeann's voice asking Are we there yet? The sound was fragmented and distant. Miriam thought she heard a faint beep. The voiceover said On the count of three, you will open your eyes. One. Two . . . . The surface was breaking. Miriam had a sudden bout of motion sickness, but she tried to push it aside.

Three. Miriam slowly opened her eyes, almost against her will, and a landscape of color melted into her vision. She found herself in a wide forest clearing. She blinked once, slowly, trying to lengthen her entry into the environment; but the wide, vivid canopy of woods and rock pulled her in, and she turned in all directions to absorb the full scene. Water trickled down a gnarled, rocky bluff on her right. Behind her was a stone wall dressed with vines and blooming flowers. A bench and a miniature fountain were laid out in the center of two winding stone paths that led in opposite directions, and in the background was an elegant stone archway barred by a foliage-covered wooden door. In front of her, the top edges of the forest gave way to a view of two spectacular mountains. Clouds drifted across the peaks. Miriam could feel the warm heat of the sun on her flesh, and as she turned her face up toward the sky, a gentle breeze blew across the clearing and lifted her hair. The experience left her breathless; she began to reel. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her composure, and the experience seemed to ebb away. The sounds of water and faraway birds seemed to fade. Miriam suddenly felt as though she was suspended in space, with nothing but the drifting air to keep her company.

Then Dana spoke. "We're there. Miriam, are you all right?"

Miriam opened her eyes, focusing on Dana's expression of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just feel a little weird." She laughed suddenly, taking stock of her surroundings.

The three of them looked just as they had in reality; Leeann was dressed in her vivid rose-print halter, and Dana's hair was tousled around his shining face. "Wow," Miriam said softly, gazing out at the mountains.

Leeann, too, burst out laughing. "This is just like magic," she said, taking in the landscape. "Dana, this is awesome."

"Alec helped me design this part."

"Only a little," Alec said. "Dana deserves the credit."

"Well, feel free to look around. I have my watch programmed into the VE, so it'll keep real time. If we get separated and it starts getting late, I'll just call you on your walkie talkies." Dana checked his communication device, clicking it on. A soft burst of static sounded from the other belts.

"How big is this place?" Leeann asked.

"There are walls beyond the mountains and right behind us." Dana gestured to the garden wall at their backs. "The walls go roughly in a circle around the environment. If you try to climb over them, you won't get anywhere; there's a type of invisible wall above the stone walls that keeps you in. There are animals and other things in the forest, but they won't harm you."

"What other things?" Miriam asked.

"You'll see," Dana replied casually. "Behind the forest, there's a series of rocky streams, and there's a waterfall somewhere near the mountains. There are ponds here and there in the woods, and some stone sculptures, and . . . well, you should just look. Do you want to stay together, or split up?"

"Do I have time to hike to the mountains?" Leeann asked.

"Yeah. There's a path there that leads to the mountain passes." Dana pointed to a worn trail that disappeared into the trees. "If you just stay on the main path, it'll take you straight through."

"I want to do that."

"I think I'm going to explore the woods," Miriam said, looking at Dana with slight hesitance. "Is it easy to get lost?"

"Well, there are v-shaped stones laid along the paths that point back to the clearing. If you do get lost, you can just walk until you come to one of the paths, and follow it back here. I can go with you, if you want."

"Okay."

"Alec, you come with me," Leeann said, grabbing Alec's arm. "I want some company. You know how treacherous mountain walks can be."

Miriam pulled out her camera and photographed the trees and hills beyond the clearing. "Beautiful," she murmured. She took a moment to soak in the view as Leeann and Alec sauntered into the woods, disappearing in bits of color between branches and fluttering leaves. She peered at Dana, who was watching her with an air of delight.

"You look real," she said.

"I am real."

"You know what I mean."

"Watch more closely. Try walking around. When you move, your surroundings take a moment to really set in. That's because everything on the screen has to change its depth. The delay is so slight, you can't even tell it's happening unless you really pay attention."

Miriam took a few steps, hesitated, and then began walking briskly. She stopped at the edge of one winding path. "I guess I can see it."

"If you look closely enough, you can see that these things aren't real. You can see pixels and . . . well, you see a computer-generated image. The hypnosis makes everything look more realistic."

"Because I'm suggestible," Miriam murmured.

Dana smiled. "If you don't mind being suggestible for a while, will you let me lead you around? I can show you all the best spots."

"I'm sure you can."

She followed him down the left-hand path, toward the denser part of the woods. Miriam turned her head this way and that as she walked, examining the stones beneath her feet, the wispy clouds in the sky, the rustling leaves on the trees. Occasionally, she thought she saw pixels; but the environment did seem remarkably real. Something substantial was missing, though. Even after she stopped analyzing her surroundings and relaxed into the adventure, Miriam couldn't shake off her own discomfort. She was disoriented by the contrast of visible beauty and abstract emptiness.

"How much more experimenting do you need to do before this thing goes public?" she asked.

"Not much. My bosses are really pushing me on this project. This is a really, really big thing for them."

"And none of them have asked try it out?"

"No, not yet." Dana smiled softly. "Guinea pigs first, then corporate executives. That's the way it always goes."

"Are they going to release it to special interest groups first, or are they just going to throw it out there?"

"They're going to design programs for as many venues as possible - starting with the wealthy venues, of course. Anyone with money will be able to buy custom-made VEs - and the more money they give us, the more realistic the VE will be. Only wealthy individuals and companies will have the best services and the most protection. They can access systems with hot back-up servers, which require additional hardware and network resources. It gets pretty pricy. The hot back-up servers shadow the main servers in case of a failure, and if something gets disconnected or has some other type of failure, the back-up server will jump in and maintain the appearance of continuity. That type of back-up isn't necessarily the safest for the type of VE we're in. If we were using system stop semantics instead, we would be drawn back out of the hypnosis in the instance of a server failure. But the company did a bunch of surveys and found that people tend to prefer system continuance despite its potential safety risks, because -"

"Wait. I don't understand what you're saying," Miriam interrupted.

"Okay, here's the thing. Because we're hypnotized, a server failure in the VE can possibly have a negative impact on our psyches. This wouldn't be a problem if we were using system stop semantics, because the program would end and we would gently be awakened into the real world. But we're using system continuity, which is provided by the hot back-up servers. If one server goes out, we don't necessarily get interrupted, because all the back-up functions allow the program to continue without the main servers. But a back-up server can also go out, and from there, the other servers are still trying to carry off the illusion on as best they can. So you're still going through this state of hypnosis even though things are starting to fall apart. But people want to take that risk; they want to preserve the fantasy all the way to the end, at any cost."

"Why? If something goes wrong, they can just try it again later."

"Patience isn't the virtue of our culture. People want what they want, and they want it now; and if they can pay for it, they'll get it however they can. This stuff is going to make huge money. Think of all the things you could do with a hypnotic VE. Anything you've ever fantasized about . . . ." He shook his head. "Any world, any adventure. It can be yours. For real. For a little while, anyway."

"Right, for a little while. It isn't real."

"If it leaves a mark, it's real."

"No, it's not. It's still just a fantasy world. The real world will be right here waiting for us when the game is over. And there's plenty of work that needs to be done in the real world. We're leaving our own mark on it, and it's not a pretty one."

"I have a feeling that plenty of people are going to start spending their time working on their VEs. Screw the real world." Dana smiled, trying to wear down the perturbed look on Miriam's face. "I want to open a bar in the middle of a desert raceway on Mars."

"Dana, that's scary. I just imagine people letting the world choke to death on our pollution, and all the wealthy people running to their virtual environments because there's a limitless supply of good earth there for them." She paused. "I mean, if you eat food in the VE, maybe you feel full, but you're not getting any nutrition. The illusion doesn't have the exact same effect as reality."

"Well, that hasn't been tested."

"It doesn't need to be tested. You need to eat sometimes; you can't live off imaginary food. The effect isn't the same. I guarantee you, people will wither away in a CAVE the same way they do in all their other cages if they aren't getting real sun, fresh air, clean water, and real food. Fake food cannot replace real food. If the CAVE runs out of oxygen for some reason, you'll suffocate, regardless of all the fresh air you think you're breathing."

"Okay, I get the implications of all that. But think of all the people this could help. People in hospitals who can't get out, who are dying, could get some benefit from this type of program."

"Yeah, but this isn't going to people in hospitals. It's going to rich people who are obsessed with their personal fantasies."

Dana paused uncomfortably. "I know that's what's going to happen now. But some day, people will use it medicinally."

"I just think there are better alternatives."

He didn't respond. Miriam started to think she'd pissed him off, but after a few moments he gave her a serious, sideways glance and said, "You know, it's good that I have you around to give me all these reality checks. I don't even have to listen for that analytical voice in my head anymore. You do all the work for me."

She smiled.

"Really. It's effortless. I don't have to check in with my doubts or try to come up with lists of drawbacks. And even if you're not here, I can just think 'What would Miriam say?' and I have a long list of previous comments to choose from."

"Uh-huh."

"Like 'All video screens are actually instruments of hypnosis' and 'Your work is all about manipulating people's perception of reality' . . . ."

"Well, now you're making me feel like a nag."

He chuckled. "That's okay. I get to put you in check, too, right?" He watched her, enjoying her reaction. "Don't start getting self-conscious. I was about to ask you to get naked with me."

Miriam started to speak, then came to an abrupt halt. "What?"

Dana nodded toward the pond just ahead of them. "Come swimming with me. We can go skinny-dipping."

"Skinny-dipping?" she echoed. The pond did look splendidly inviting. It was a small, roughly circular pool of blue-green water, decorated with lily pads and surrounded by bursts of elegant flowers.

"Sure. It won't be like skinny-dipping, really. I don't know what you look like naked. My mind will just form an image of you, and that's what I'll see."

Miriam hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Come on, are you nervous? You're the dancer. You're supposed to be comfortable with your body."

"All right." Miriam slowly began to pull off her shoes. After a moment, she stopped and added, "You don't just have to stand there and stare at me."

Dana grinned shyly; his confidence seemed to ebb a little, but he shed his clothing without the slightest hesitation, standing completely naked in the full sunlight. Miriam began to wonder why she was being so modest. After all, they weren't really even undressing, weren't really seeing each other; and yet she had imagined Dana's nude form countless times in the past, had anticipated an increasing intimacy with him. In spite of the opportunity, she felt strangely intrusive, and averted her eyes as Dana slipped into the water.

Miriam followed him in, enjoying the cool sensation of the water against her skin. The temperature was just right. She felt her toes sinking into a bed of soft, fine sand.

"Okay," she muttered, "this is really nice. I could . . . ." She stopped suddenly, looking back at the bundle of clothing they'd left behind. "Wait a minute. Did we take our clothes off in real life?"

"I would think not. The harnesses would be in the way."

"I suppose so." Miriam tipped her head back into the water, staring up at the beautiful summer sky, and trying not to see the pixels. "This is therapeutic. This is a really nice break from all the winter gloom."

"You see? It's a perfect therapy tool. It's a robotic healer."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"Why not?"

"A machine isn't a healer," Miriam responded. "It doesn't care about you."

Dana shrugged, delicately pushing away the lily pads that were floating toward him. "A therapist doesn't necessarily care about you either. You remember the conversation we were having about therapists who just get into the practice to exert control over their own issues, or to come up with the latest groundbreaking techniques?"

"Yeah . . . ."

"People have their own motives. I trust robots over humans." Dana saw how Miriam was staring at him, as if in mild awe, but he shrugged it off. "Robots are logical. Humans get overwhelmed by insecurities and desires."

"Wow. You know, that doesn't make any sense. People design robots, so . . . how can you trust a robot? People's motives go into it."

"Yeah, but people just do the basics. If a robot starts out with good programming, it's just a series of logical steps from then on. It doesn't go bad."

"Because it doesn't have emotions and desires."

"Right."

"That's called apathy. You're idealizing apathy."

"No, I'm idealizing robots. It's easy to get idealistic about robots. They're pretty predictable, and people . . . well, they're tricky. I have a hard time trusting people because I can't view their programming. I mean, I always try not to expect anything from anyone, because people are deceptive and give false impressions a lot of the time."

"Whoa, Dana. People are deceptive, so you can't expect anything from anyone? That's a big generalization."

"They are," he insisted. "And I don't mean it necessarily as an insult. I just mean that we learn to give off certain impressions, in the hopes of getting certain reactions from other people."

"That's not always true. Sometimes, people are just trying to be honest."

"No, they're just trying to seem honest."

"What about the Dalai Lama?" she challenged.

He paused. "Okay, there's an exception. But he's a high standard. He's supposed to be the incarnation of gentle compassion. He can't be deceptive."

"Well, perhaps he's just trying to seem compassionate so that people will convert to his religion."

Miriam was striking a nerve; Dana revered the Dalai Lama. She saw him tensing up. His eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"Well, look, here's the thing," he said. "I want to trust people. But it's easy to get along with machines. If they do something terrible, and they haven't been programmed to do that sort of thing, then I can blame a programming error or an electrical glitch for the behavior, and I can simply go in and try to fix the error. I can't blame the robot."

"But you seem to get awfully fond of some of your robots. If they perform a good behavior, you praise them. So you give them credit for their good behavior, but you blame yourself for their failures; isn't that right?"

"Yeah. It's different. It's like . . . they've got good mathematics, so they've got good souls. But some of them are designed to make choices, and when they consistently make positive choices, I can't help giving them credit for it. They're feeding my ideal and it makes me happy."

Miriam stared at him. "That's incredibly depressing," she said.

He shrugged.

"Do you think it's the control you have over the robot's behavior that makes you happy, or is it just that you really have such a low opinion of human beings?"

He shrugged again. "Well, maybe I'm exaggerating. It's not that I'm never happy with people. I'm just a little bitter." He paused, and Miriam saw memories speeding rapidly behind the sheath of his eyes. "Like, in my personal life, there's my family. My mom always gave us speeches about how she loved me and my sister unconditionally, but then my sister came out as a lesbian, and my mom cut off contact with her, and now she always says terrible things about her. People have all these idealistic notions about compassion and support, but they get warped, and . . . I don't know. Unconditional love is a tricky concept. No one can love you unconditionally. My mom still talks to me, but I'm always upset with her, and our relationship seems really superficial. And I don't think my mom would have an issue with Cathy if other people didn't, but the people at her church encourage her to cut Cathy off, so she says things like, 'Well, my pastor said that if I talk to her, I'm just demonstrating that I approve of her lifestyle, and I can't do that.' She just doesn't want to stand up to her community, because she'll get ostracized. So she ostracizes Cathy instead - and Cathy is such a good person, and doesn't deserve that. That's just an example, but it's the sort of thing that seems to happen all the time. I don't get people."

"And there aren't any exceptions?"

He looked thoughtful; Miriam watched his face carefully, noting the way it hovered over its reflection in blue-green water. Was that the way his face actually looked now, or was she imagining it? How was it that she could see the expressions on his face even before his words betrayed his emotions?

Watching his tender, vulnerable features, Miriam began to have romantic notions about him looking at her with sudden love. This would be a perfect time for him to kiss her. She thought to herself: Me, Dana! You can trust me.

After a moment his expression soured, and she saw in his eyes the ghost of something that had died painfully over and over again.

"Here; I don't want to drag you down," he said suddenly, noticing her look of concern. "We're supposed to be enjoying the environment." Dana slowly made his way toward the bank. He gently plucked an orchid from the edge of the water and offered it to Miriam. "Here, touch it. See how that feels."

Miriam swam toward him and sat down in the shallow water, gingerly fingering the petals. "It's soft. It feels kind of silky . . . ."

"Right. That's all math. The visuals are basically just codes that stimulate your memories of certain sensory inputs. Everything we perceive is based on mathematical codes that interact with each other. It's the same with food and metabolism, with textures and touch."

Miriam looked out over the pond. "Dana, it's beautiful here. The colors, and even this breeze . . . ." She laughed suddenly. "I was going to say it's surreal, but I guess that's obvious."

"Kind of makes you want to stay here, doesn't it?"

"No. It's not real."

"But you feel good here, and that's real."

"I feel impressed. There's something missing. A sense of . . . life, or something. A real forest gives off a much greater impression of life. It just isn't present here. There's no spirit in the surroundings."

Dana was quiet, staring off into the gorgeous woods. Miriam followed his gaze, watching the realistic swaying of branches, listening to the sounds of breeze and birds. She thought she heard animals foraging among the trees.

"We have a visitor," Dana said.

Leaves and blossoms rustled and parted, making way for a full-grown, bronze-skinned man, naked from the waist up and perched on a horse. Miriam opened her mouth to whisper to Dana that he'd forgotten to finish designing the animal, but stopped short, watching the creature with silent admiration. She realized she was seeing a centaur. He turned his head suddenly, and she saw the muscles moving in his neck, saw flesh depressing into grooves of strong bone. He looked directly at her. Miriam was absolutely spellbound. His eyes were more than human, penetrating deep into her psyche. He looked at her with gentle seriousness, then with knowing amusement and affection. Miriam was certain, against all logic, that he was real.

"Okay, now you've convinced me," she told Dana. "This is really damn cool."

"Of course it is."

"People are going to get addicted to this." Miriam turned to face him. The centaur had disappeared through the trees. "This is just like a drug."

"No, it isn't."

"Come on, I'm sure you can imagine people going about their humdrum routines, just waiting for the opportunity to get back into their VEs. They'll spend all their money on it, they'll let everything else in their lives deteriorate while they lose themselves in the drug."

"Don't be such a pessimist. You said yourself that the VE lacks a real sense of life."

Miriam sighed. "So do most things that become addictive. I don't know . . . I suppose this has some good potential, but I don't think that humanity is ready to use it for anything but self-gratification."

Dana gave her a sly look. "Do you really have such a low opinion of human beings?"

Miriam smiled. "We have a poor track record," she said softly. "But I suppose we have good potential - just like your fantasy machine. I suppose all we have to do is come up with a healthier fantasy."

Dana stood up, exposing his naked body to the bold sunlight. "Let's look around some more," he said. "The other VEs are nothing compared to this one; I spent more time on this environment than all the others combined. We should see as much of it as we can."

"The eyes on that centaur were amazing," Miriam said, climbing out of the pond after him. "They seemed so real. But I suppose if I had looked closer, I would have seen the pixels."

"Sure. But if you look at an actual eye with the same closeness, you can see its organic components just as well, and it loses some of its visual appeal."

"I suppose so. You see veins and . . . stop staring at me like that." Miriam squeezed flower-scented water from her hair, enjoying the cool sensation of the droplets splattering across her feet.

Dana turned away, blatantly rolling his eyes. "I wasn't staring at you. You were imagining it."

"I doubt that."

"Well, I was sort of staring at you. I don't see why it matters."

"I just didn't like the carnivorous look on your face."

Dana doubled over. "Okay . . . you were imagining that part. Really."

"Well, I guess you can look if you want."

"No, it's too late. You're making me feel like a pervert."

Miriam chuckled. "I'm not making you do anything. We choose our own feelings."

"Yeah - with input from others."

"I don't think you're a pervert."

"Fine."

"You can look at me."

"Well, you're dressed already."

Dana started down one of the forest paths, walking slowly, his eyes never resting in one spot. Likewise, Miriam absorbed as much of her surroundings as possible.

"I don't want to see the pixels," she murmured. "I'm not going to try to see them."

"Good. That's the way to do it. You should do the same with all your senses. You might notice that certain things don't produce sound in the VE; that's because all the sounds are programmed, instead of existing simply by hypnotic suggestion. The birds you hear, and the wind rustling in the trees, are all recordings that I programmed into the VE. The virtually-transmitted sound is set at a certain limit, so if someone tries to scream in your ear, it can't hurt you. Here, try it. Can I scream in your ear?"

"No."

"Come on, it's fine." He moved toward her.

"Stay away from me," she responded, shoving him backward. "The thing you're saying doesn't even make sense. You say that if we believe the events occurring in the VE are real, then our bodies react as if they are real. So if I believe that you're screaming in my ear, then my ear will hurt, regardless of the controls. Isn't that the premise of all this?"

Dana paused for a long time, looking pained. "I didn't think of that," he said at last.

"Stay there; I want to take your picture." Miriam started to pull out her camera.

"You can't. I mean, you can take it if you want, but the computer doesn't know how to record the image of me that you're seeing. When you photograph an avatar, you see something that looks like a person, but . . . well, go ahead and take my picture, and then you can see how the picture turns out."

Miriam lined him up against a particularly ancient-looking tree and snapped his picture. Before she could put the camera away, she caught sight of a bit of fluff scampering across the ground - a two-headed bunny rabbit. She photographed that, too.

As they wandered the forest, a variety of creatures made brief, timid appearances: Miniature dragons. Lightning-fast jackalopes. Majestic griffins. Star Trek's Captain Picard.

Back at the entrance to the VE, Leeann and Alec caught up to them.

"Did you see Jean-Luc Picard back there?" Leeann asked, grinning madly. "What a riot. I tried to talk to him, but he bounded away, like a deer or something."

Alec was laughing uncontrollably. "You should have seen her. She started chasing him into the woods, and I almost lost her.'

Dana stood at the stone archway, chuckling at the antics of his friends. "Have you had enough?"

Alec shook his head. "Leeann won't have enough until she catches Jean-Luc."

"Oh, he's exaggerating. I wasn't chasing him. I just took a few steps."

"Yeah - a few steps at lightning speed."

"He's lying," Leeann insisted.

"What are you getting so defensive about? Patrick Stewart won the 'sexiest man alive' distinction in TV Guide a few years back. I would have started chasing him, too, but I didn't want to get trampled by you."

"No, really," Leeann protested, waving a dismissive hand at Alec. "I want to see the next area."

"All right." Dana pulled at a latch on the wooden door. "This next environment isn't quite as visually appealing as the first, but I like to think it has its own unique charm." He pushed the door open, and the group peered through into his workshop. The room looked almost as they had left it. The CAVEs sat empty in the middle of the room, the straps dangling loosely from plastic arms. Something about the image was deeply disturbing to Miriam. She wondered what her own body looked like back in her CAVE, how she was positioned; she tried to envision herself hanging in the straps, with the mask covering her head.

"Wow, this is some detail," Leeann said, stepping into the room. "Look at all this junk. I've got to get a picture of this and compare it to the real workshop." She glanced at her camera. "Shit. I'm already out of photos."

"That's because she couldn't stop taking pictures of me in the woods," Alec explained.

"Alec, can you take a picture for me?"

"Sure." Alec pulled out his camera. "I'm betting the detail is pretty close, but plenty of things are missing and rearranged."

"It's a pretty close match," Dana said. "I spent more time than I should have on this room. I wanted to see how much functional detail I could incorporate into it. The equipment should all be operational; so if we wanted to sit here and pretend to build robots and design computer programs, we could do it on this equipment, and most of it would seem to work."

"Well, I don't want to sit around and design computer programs," Leeann said.

"Yeah, I'm a little excited to get to the next room," Alec agreed.

"That's fine. I didn't expect to spend much time in here. I added on part of the back yard and neighborhood, but it's not finished. Anyway, I think you'll like the next location better."

"It better not be too impressive, if I can't take any pictures of it," Leeann muttered, still frowning down at her camera.

Dana gestured to an additional door. "There's the portal, when you're ready. Here, Leeann - if you want, you can have my camera. It still has all twelve shots."

"Thanks." Leeann looked momentarily pleased, then puzzled. "Can you do that? Your camera is attached to your harness."

"Not in the VE, it isn't," Dana replied lightly. "Go ahead. I want to do an experiment."

Leeann shrugged and opened the next doorway, exposing a wide, rocky cave. "What's this? It looks dark."

"Keep walking. It'll be fine."

"You better not have put any bats in here . . . ." Leeann ventured through the door, followed by Miriam. The tunnel was unlit, yet seemed to glow just enough to allow them to see where they were going. Miriam found herself becoming excited with anticipation as the cave wound its way forward. She ran her fingers along the cool, damp walls, wondering what she would find ahead. Pirates? Dragons?

The tunnel quickly brightened and opened into a vast, cave-like atmosphere. Its floor was heaped with gold coins and littered here and there with open chests. Most of the treasures that spilled from them were typical stock: crowns, precious stones, jewelry, chandeliers, ornate mirrors, paper money. Miriam also noticed chocolate bars, potato chips, and a few bottles of beer.

She was about to open her mouth to comment on the dazzling display when, quite unexpectedly, an enormous troll came lumbering from a rear tunnel. Miriam stood there with her mouth hanging open, struck dumb by the spectacle. Leeann shrieked. The gargantuan figure with its bursting shirt buttons and glaring eyes was headed right for them.

"Dana," Miriam called in alarm.

Dana chuckled. "Don't worry - it can't get anywhere near you. See?"

Indeed, the creature had stopped some distance short of Miriam. It stood there and fidgeted, shifting its weight from leg to leg, as if bothered by its inability to reach the trespassers.

"I designed it to look a bit like my second grade reading teacher," Dana explained, "except bigger, and with more hair. He was a real ogre. I thought this would be a good homage to him."

"Good lord . . . hey, are those beers drinkable?" Leeann asked, tentatively making her way forward. As she walked, the troll eased away from her.

"Of course they are."

"Good. I could use a drink."

"I see chocolates," Miriam murmured, wandering toward one of the chests. "I hope you got the dark kind."

The women hovered at opposite sides of the cave, picking through the contents of the chests. "Well, this is fantastic," Leeann muttered. "There's beer, but no bottle opener. Can you taste the chocolates?"

"I haven't tried one yet." Miriam's eyes were fixed on the troll, which stood limply against a rocky wall, staring back at her. Its mouth hung slightly open, exposing a few flat, rotting teeth. Miriam thought she could smell its foul breath from yards away.

She turned toward Dana. "You're not taking very good care of the resident guardian. You stuck him in here with a bunch of candy and no toothbrush."

"Well, I can't think of everything."

Miriam stared up at the giant; she studied the large, wet eyes. It stared at her in a sort of detached way, and yet she caught occasional glimmers of emotion there. What was it? Fear? Contempt? Grief?

Leeann waved a hand at Miriam. "Stop staring at it, Miriam. You'll get hypnotized," she joked.

"He looks sad."

"Oh, please. He's not real; he doesn't feel anything." Leeann looked up at the monster. "Hey, you! You're ugly."

Miriam felt a pang; she thought she saw a look of hurt crossing the troll's face. "No, Leeann, don't do that."

Alec stood across the cave from them, digging through another of the chests. He pulled out a beer and studied it. "She's right, Dana. You forgot bottle openers."

"I told you, I can't think of everything. What a bunch of whiners."

"Maybe the troll can open my beer with its teeth," Alec suggested.

Miriam still stood looking up at the giant. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out: "I think you seem like a nice troll. Here - have some chocolate." She tossed a foil-wrapped chocolate across the cave. It bounced from the troll's chest and fell somewhere among the litter of coins.

The others laughed uproariously.

"I think you seem like a nice troll, too," Alec mimicked. "Here - open my beer for me." He tossed the bottle, watched it bounce and fall to the ground.

Miriam tried again. "Here - watch me this time. I'm going to throw this to you so you can catch it. Ready?" She tossed another chocolate.

Leeann was laughing helplessly, pointing a demonstrative finger at Miriam. "Look at her! She's too much."

Miriam tried again.

Alec was still trying, too; he threw another bottle, bouncing it off the back of the troll's head. He laughed at the spectacle.

"Be careful," Miriam admonished him. She looked up again, staring into the brimming wet eyes. She couldn't see any pixels there. She saw veins and soft tissues.

Miriam leaned forward, making an underhand toss to the troll. "There you go - catch it!"

One large, grubby hand reached out and caught the tiny object. It disappeared into folds of flesh.

"Wow," Alec said, pausing in the middle of an underhand throw. He stumbled forward, as if thrown off balance by the event.

The troll abruptly vanished.

"Shit," Dana said.

"Where did it go?" Alec looked back and forth, bewildered.

"I don't know. It may have gotten disconnected, but I think that we might have interfered with its rules of motion. It's not supposed to get within twenty feet of a participant, but you and Miriam kind of trapped it in between the two of you, and it couldn't retreat anywhere. It might have just cancelled itself out of the environment."

"I can still hear it breathing," Alec said.

Dana looked puzzled. "The sound is on a different server; it's supposed to respond to the outcome of the troll's physical movements. There's no reason it should be producing sound effects if the troll isn't in the environment."

Clink, went the coins, and Leeann said, "The troll is moving. It's there." She pointed at two oversized footprints at the side of the cave. One print shifted a little, and then there was another clink as the invisible foot depressed another mound of coins. Leeann quickly went to Dana's side, as if for protection.

"Doesn't it seem like it's already within twenty feet of me?" Alec asked nervously, withdrawing toward the rocky wall.

"Wait, don't go over there," Dana told him, lifting one hand in a gesture of warning. "Come toward the tunnels."

Clink. Alec sprinted toward Dana and Leeann. Miriam, still on the opposite side of the cave, asked, "What about me?"

"Run over here," Dana said sharply.

She ran without hesitation. Fear enveloped her as a footstep depressed some coins to her left, and she ducked instinctively, as if she had sensed the troll's hand swooping over her head.

The group quickly fled down a tunnel that ended in another vine-covered door. Dana opened it, revealing a tropical-looking courtyard. Its stone walls were hung with exotic plants. Twittering birds flitted back and forth between elegant tables and chairs.

"Well, this is a nice change from Troll Cave," Leeann muttered, stepping through the portal. "Pretty flowers and cute little birdies . . . and we don't even have to worry about sitting down in blobs of bird crap."

Dana smiled a little. "No, I didn't program any bird crap into the scene."

The four of them sat around one of the ornate iron tables, leaning back into cushioned chairs.

"I need a drink," Alec announced. "Dana, go and get drinks for us, will you?"

"Do it yourself. You forgot to say please and thank you."

Alec rolled his eyes. "All right. What can I get everyone?"

"A beer for me, and a smoothie for Miriam." Dana cast a sideways glance at Miriam. "There's only one flavor. I didn't spend much time on the menu."

"I'll have a bloody Mary," Leeann piped in.

Alec headed for the bar at the edge of the court, stopping near a sign that read "Ring bell for service." He picked up the silvery bell and waved it lackadaisically in the air. "Tinkle, tinkle. Come out here and get us some drinks."

Miriam watched intently, intrigued by the notion of a conversation between a real person and a virtual persona. As a man appeared from out of a back room, she and Leeann burst into laughter. The man was Alec's double - almost. A few liberties had been taken with his design. The glamour-boy hairdo had been replaced with a high mohawk, and he was clad only in skimpy underpants.

"Oh, you're too much," Leeann breathed. "Alec, make him bring the drinks to our table. I want to get a closer look at him."

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," Alec replied. "Hey, why don't you bring your film up here? He can develop it in the back room and bring our pictures out to us. It only takes a few seconds."

"Or we can have a slide show," Dana said, gesturing to the opposite end of the court. "The images will be projected onto that wall over there."

"Let's do the slide show," Leeann said. "That way, we can just sit back and relax."

Alec ordered drinks while Dana collected the film. Miriam watched the exchanges attentively. Alec seemed to be selecting the orders from a punch card. When he finished, the virtual Alec simply said "Right-o" and pulled the drinks up from beneath the counter.

Miriam looked at Dana inquisitively, and he caught on to her thoughts. "I only programmed him to say 'Right-o'," he explained.

"Oh."

Alec placed the beverage-laden tray on the table, passing them out to the others. "Dana, your beer; Miriam, your foo-foo drink; Leeann, your bloody Mary."

Miriam took the tall glass in her hand and stared at the contents. Her first virtual drink looked pretty appetizing, and pretty real. She placed the straw between her lips and took a sip.

"Strawberry banana," she murmured.

Dana nodded. "How does it taste?"

"It's good."

"You see? Another marvel of science and psychology. You chose the flavor yourself. I just programmed in a pink smoothie."

Quite suddenly, the courtyard darkened. Miriam looked up at the sky, made nervous by the sudden change. "What happened?"

An image snapped onto the wall: a view of Dana's virtual forest, with the twin peaks in the background.

"It's fine," Dana assured her. "It gets dark so we can see the slide show."

Miriam relaxed, focusing on the still image. It looked like the photo she'd taken at the beginning of the journey. The next photo also featured the wooded landscape, along with a not-quite-human figure in the foreground. The figure had arms, legs, and a face; but its flesh was uniform and transparent, light blue in color, almost like water. The hue was somewhat darker at the nostrils and the line of the mouth, and a spiral enclosed each ear canal. Two lidless eyeballs stared out at the viewer, the irises a light shade of red.

"What is that?" Leeann asked.

"That's my avatar," Dana replied. "Miriam took that shot of me when we were walking in the woods."

"Ohhh," Leeann moaned. "Is that what we all look like? I took a bunch of pictures of Alec." She leaned over, slapping Alec's arm. "Why didn't you tell me they were going to turn out like that?"

Alec was laughing helplessly. "I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw them. Come on, it'll be funny."

"That doesn't look funny. It's weird."

Dana looked questioningly at Alec. "Aren't your customers going to be disappointed that they can't bring back actual photographs of themselves from the VE?"

"There's a quick fix to that. All they have to do is get someone to design an avatar that resembles them; then, the avatar can be programmed into the VE. It's a really time-consuming process and it just takes up memory, so I didn't program avatars to match our bodies. I just let the hypnosis take care of that. If you weren't hypnotized into thinking that I look like this, you'd see me like that." He gestured to the photo.

Dana's pictures were displayed next. A second round of drinks was ordered, and a third appeared as Leeann's photos proceeded across the wall. "Alec" was featured in several successive shots - a blue-skinned being posing next to a fountain, the vague line of its mouth arranged in a u-shaped smile; a blue-skinned being hugging a two-headed bunny; a blue-skinned being running toward the camera, arms spread, its mouth open in a perfect o-shape.

Dana, Leeann, and Alec shrieked with laughter every time the avatar showed up. Miriam was giggling, too; but even though she did find some amusement in the images, they weren't what she was laughing at. She was laughing at her companions. They were hunched forward, red-faced and convulsing with merriment. Alec slammed his palm against the table, his eyes squeezed shut from the effort of his booming guffaws. They were all laughing so hard that they could barely catch their breath. Miriam peered at them and wondered: were they getting drunk?

The rest of the photos were less amusing; but Miriam's companions continued to giggle, as if they hadn't quite recovered from the previous hilarity. In the extended silences, Miriam noticed a lack of sound elsewhere in the environment. The birds had stopped chirping. Looking around, she didn't see a single bird anywhere.

Miriam opened her mouth to mention the absence, but was interrupted.

"Somebody get Mohawk Alec," Leeann demanded. "My glass is empty."

"Maybe we should all stop drinking," Miriam suggested nervously. She was immensely bothered by the mysterious disappearances in the VE. What else could disappear? What would happen if the floor disappeared from under them? What would happen if the portals disappeared? She remembered Dana's warning about "system continuance": The other servers are still trying to carry off the illusion on as best they can. So you're still going through this state of hypnosis even though things are starting to fall apart. . . . "The slide show is almost over. I think we should leave after this. This is the last room, isn't it, Dana?"

"Yeah. I suppose we've done enough, and I really would like to get back and figure out what happened with that troll."

"I think -"

"Well, how many pictures are left?" Leeann asked loudly, cutting off Miriam and frowning at the projection. "I think there's something wrong. This photo has been up for a long time now."

Miriam turned back toward the bar, as if to ask for assistance. She was immediately struck by the uselessness of the gesture, realizing that "Mohawk Alec" wasn't actually running the projector and wouldn't be able to help; but the thought was quickly dispelled by the shock that she got upon turning around.

The court looked quite different now. An entire wall was missing - including the portal they'd walked through to get here. An electric blue void hovered where the wall had stood.

"Dana," Miriam said, grabbing his arm in alarm.

The others heard the note of urgency in her voice, and turned toward the disaster. Dana's face paled. The air filled with a barrage of swear words.

"What in God's name," Dana muttered, jumping up. "The portal is gone."

"But that's okay, isn't it?" Miriam asked weakly. "That portal just leads us back to the cave."

"The other door back there was our portal out of hypnosis. We were supposed to activate it in order to cue the program to bring us back to reality."

"So, what . . . ." Miriam's voice trailed off. Seeing the looks on the faces of the others, she knew that the situation was bad.

"Okay," Dana said, "it's fine. I can just hit my stop watch and bring the program . . . ." Dana stared down at his bare wrist.

Miriam gasped. "Oh . . . shit. You took your watch off at the pond, when we went swimming."

Dana looked up at her with still, quiet eyes. "Okay," he muttered softly.

"God damn it, Dana," Leeann snapped. "Did you take it off for real? Maybe it's still on you, and you just can't see it."

Dana brushed his fingers against his wrist. "No, I can't feel it. Wait; I'll try to pull my helmet off. If I can get out of hypnosis . . . ."

"Is that safe?" Alec asked.

"I guess we'll find out."

Everyone quieted. Miriam watched Dana's fingertips sliding lightly beneath his chin. His palms flattened against his head and tugged upward as if trying to pop it off. For several minutes his hands roamed as he stood with his eyes closed, an intense concentration paralyzing his face.

"I can't feel anything," he said at last, opening his eyes. "It just feels like my head. And my hands just feel like hands." He stared down at his fingers with a trace of disappointment, as if they had betrayed him.

"You're not pulling hard enough," Leeann insisted, her voice laced with panic. "You're just sliding your hands around. Pull." She grabbed at his head, yanking upward with sharp movements.

"Leeann, you're not actually touching me, remember? Would you get off?" He shoved her aside with irritation.

"Well, do something."

"Try to pull your own helmet off. I'm trying to think."

Leeann began to mimic Dana's movements, trying in vain to pull off the invisible headgear.

Miriam turned back toward the image projected onto the far wall. Leeann's picture featured a forest creature that Miriam had missed: a cartoonish wolf with glittering silver fur and long, curving teeth, hunched between two gigantic tree trunks, as if ready to pounce. As she looked at the photo, Miriam suddenly felt as if she was floating in space, looking through a distant window at a world sadly frozen in time. Her mind flashed back to early childhood: Her mother handed her a plastic red viewfinder with a cardboard reel of "The Three Little Pigs." Miriam peered into the contraption to see the first slide. The image of a snarling, wide-eyed Claymation wolf seemed to jump out at her.

Time passed in silence. Dana and Alec wandered the court while the women sprawled at the table. Miriam resented her own feeling of helpless dependence; her fingers drummed and her feet tapped impatiently as Dana and Alec poked about the VE. What were they thinking? Was there a way out, or were they pretending to look for a solution?

"This is ridiculous." Leeann seemed to have calmed, but made no effort to disguise her irritation. "Why did the bartender have to disappear?" She turned toward Miriam as if for an answer, and studied her intently for a moment. "You seem to be handling this well."

Miriam shrugged. "Well, I have to admit, I had a bad feeling about this before we went in. I guess I'm just not surprised."

"I am. Dana and Alec are supposed to be cleverer than this." Leeann gazed at the men, sighing loudly. "If only the bartender was still here . . . ."

"Have you ever been in a VE before?"

"Yeah, plenty of times - but never a hypnotic one. This is a lot more intense than I thought it would be. But then, I guess it has to be intense; otherwise, it wouldn't have an impact on us. I still can't get over the fact that this place can leave physical marks on us. I almost want something to come and cut me, or something, just so I can see if the cut is still there when I get out."

"You know, they could get sued easily because of this. What if something in the VE seriously injures you, and then you come out to find that you actually have the injury?"

"Well, they wouldn't program that in."

"Not intentionally. But it could happen anyway. I really think that troll could have killed us." Miriam glanced uneasily at the void. "I don't think Dana gave me a very accurate idea of the dangers involved in this. He made it sound so harmless. I asked him what it was like, and you know what he says? 'It's like having a dream that you pissed all over yourself, and then waking up and finding out that you have actually pissed all over yourself.' That's how he describes it to me. So I laugh, and I ask him if that actually happens to him, and he doesn't say anything. He just looks at me kind of funny and blushes really hard."

Leeann laughed, a radiant and twinkling sound. "Yeah, Dana's cute," she said in a low voice. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I should date him." She looked at Miriam with an air of innocence. "But, I don't know. I kind of want to get back together with Alec, too. You know we used to date, right?"

"Yeah."

"Alec is a good guy. But Dana is so . . . I don't know, he's just really sweet." Leeann's voice dropped to a whisper. "But he can be so timid, though. I mean, he's a nice guy, but I try to imagine what he'd be like in bed, and I don't know if he'd be attentive or if he'd just be so timid that he wouldn't be able to let himself go. Do you think he's the sort of person you could go to bed with?"

Miriam thought so. She had thought about it several times, in detail. She had thought about it the previous night before falling asleep, imagining the touch of his soft, trembling body, while her mind slipped away into vivid, sex-laced dreams.

"I don't know," she replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Leeann was staring at her intently. Miriam ignored it for a moment, then met Leeann's gaze. The two of them exchanged silent, probing looks.

Alec interrupted them, calling out sharply across the courtyard. "Hey guys, come and take a look at this."

He was standing near the far wall, where the projected image of the wolf was still on display. Miriam stood up to approach him, but stopped in her tracks when she realized what he was doing. Alec was holding his arm out at his side, extending it through the wall, into the photo.

"You can go inside of it," he said. "Maybe the program somehow opened up another portal. I'm going to go in."

"Wait." Dana was running toward him, holding his hands up in a gesture of protest. "Don't do anything."

Alec was tapping his foot against the floor of the image. "It's solid."

"Don't go in, Alec. What if you can't get back out again?"

"Well, we have to do something."

"Wait . . . ." Dana reached into the photo, touching the grass, running his fingers along the ground. He groped around the sides of the image. "No . . . look, Alec. It's immobile. Everything is stuck in place. The grass doesn't even move." He withdrew from the image. "Even if we can get inside, we can't make any use of the environment."

Alec stood back and stared at the image. Miriam saw wheels turning in his head.

What could there possibly be to figure out? This whole situation was ridiculous, unreal. It was like being stuck in a nightmare, everyone knowing they were dreaming, and being unable to will themselves to wake up.

She wandered back toward the bar, away from the oppressive silence of the group. Now she, too, was lamenting the absence of Mohawk Alec. He, at least, would have given them something to laugh about - something to lighten their spirits.

She picked up Alec's camera from the counter. He had only taken one photo. That would be Dana's workshop. It was too bad the photos wouldn't provide them with functional environments. The workshop would probably be the best place for them to retreat to. It would provide them with a portal out, and it would give Dana a place to work on the program glitches. Miriam wondered if working on the problems on the virtual computers would actually produce a result. She remembered Dana's words: If we wanted to sit here and pretend to build robots and design computer programs, we could do it on this equipment, and most of it would seem to work.

Miriam stared down at the camera, feeling her own mental wheels grinding into gear. She snatched the camera and retreated into the back room.

The darkroom looked fully functional. Miriam went immediately to the wet side, observing the sizes of the developing basins. The largest were too big to fit onto the counter. She pulled two of them from beside the paper closet and slid them onto the floor. Next to the sink was a long tube; she attached it to the faucet, dropping the end into the first basin. Above the counter was a shelf containing the developing chemicals. Miriam was studying the labels when Dana walked into the room. He stopped in the doorway and froze.

"Hey, Dana," Miriam said casually. "I want to try looking at Alec's photo of the workshop. I was thinking that if we can somehow open it up in a more original form, it might still have some of its functionality. It might be a long shot, but if you really think about it . . . ." She trailed off, seeing the stricken look on Dana's face. He looked as though he was becoming ill. Miriam felt a pang of sympathy; she turned her attention to the chemicals, speaking calmly, trying to ease his anxiety. "When I studied photography in college," she said, "it really demonstrated to me the potential genius of humanity. It's such a fragile and complex process. I had to wonder how we ever made all the connections that led to this crystal-coated piece of plastic that could capture detailed images and hide them - along with another process that could perfectly reveal them."

"Miriam," Dana said, "I didn't program a developing studio into the VE."

She stared at him blankly, her hands still hovering above the bottles. "What?"

"I didn't make this room. I made the doorway, but not this room."

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't make this room," he repeated.

"You told me you programmed a photo developing studio back here."

"No, I didn't. I said that our pictures would seem to get developed. The guy doesn't actually go back and develop the film. There isn't supposed to be any film. He just goes back behind the door and comes out in a few minutes with our photos. It's a trick. I didn't program anything about film developing into the VE. All this stuff isn't supposed to be here."

"But . . . it's here. I mean, you can see it, right?" she asked uncertainly. "The basins, and the chemicals?"

"Yes, I see it, Miriam, but I didn't put it here." He paused, letting a thick, heavy silence fill the room. "I think you made it up," he continued softly. "You came in here expecting to see a darkroom, and so you caused a darkroom to spring up." Dana stared at his surroundings with a mixture of awe and displeasure. "I don't know what to think of this. No . . . I know what to think. Do you know what this means?"

"No."

"Come on, Miriam. We're affecting the program. It's interacting with us - it's not just the hypnosis that's making you think this stuff is here. You actually created it with your mind - and now I'm seeing it, too."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, Miriam, you did. What other explanation is there?"

"I don't know." She folded her arms, leaning back against the counter and studying his face. He looked absolutely nauseous. "Dana . . . are you all right?"

"No. No, I am not all right; I feel like I've gone mad." He stared back at her, his eyes shadowed and haunted-looking behind his glasses. "This isn't supposed to be happening. I'm not even sure you're here with me right now. I feel like I'm dreaming . . . and I would like to wake up now."

"Well, look . . . whatever happened, we should take advantage of it. Let's get the others in here. I want to see if we can do this. I don't want them opening the door at the wrong time and ruining the film."

Dana hesitated, then leaned back through the doorway. "Hey, you guys, come over here."

A few moments later, Leeann walked casually into the room. Alec followed, but stopped short upon entering. He shot a puzzled glance at Dana. "When did you add this?"

"I didn't," Dana said flatly.

He embarked on a clumsy explanation of his theory. Miriam had imagined the darkroom, he told them. She had "seen" it because she expected it to be there; and, somehow, the program had responded to her thoughts.

"That's not possible," Alec said. "The program is designed to respond to our physical movements."

"Perhaps it isn't the program, then. Perhaps it's just us. We're hypnotized, and for some reason, we're all seeing what Miriam is seeing."

"I don't think that's possible, either," Leeann replied doubtfully.

"Nevertheless, we are seeing this room. I mean, you both . . . ." Dana trailed off. "Miriam, what are you doing?"

"I told you," she replied calmly, channeling water into one of the basins. She pulled a thermometer from the shelf, tested the water temperature. "I'm getting us access to the workshop. Alec's film is still undeveloped; his photos haven't been fixed yet. All we need to do is blow up his photo of the workshop without immobilizing it." Miriam adjusted the knobs at the sink, cooling the water.

"Wait . . . don't do anything yet."

"No, it's fine. I'll show you how it works." Miriam pointed to a wide bottom drawer marked "5'x7' lightproof." That would be the photo paper. Not as large as a room, but big enough to walk into. It would have to do.

"We can enlarge the image on a sheet of photo paper," she explained. "The biggest size we have is five feet by seven feet. We can develop the image onto the paper, and then put it in the stop bath." She indicated the second basin. "The stop bath will stop the developing process, so the image will have some stability. The next step would be to fix the image - but we'll cut that step out. That way, we should still have a functional image." Miriam added acetic acid to the second basin, measuring carefully.

Alec was shaking his head. "This is insane."

"No, it isn't," Dana said quickly. "Let her do it. She made the darkroom, right? She can make a way out."

"Dana . . . ." Alec was still shaking his head.

"Let her do it," Dana repeated. "She can make it work. There's nothing insane about this. You know what I think about hypnosis and reality - about thoughts and reality. Everything in the universe is made of vibrations. Our thoughts are responsive and creative vibrations, just like everything else. They interact with the world to form reality. That's the whole premise of hypnosis, isn't it?" He gestured to his surroundings. "This just proves it. Our thoughts have incredible creative power."

Alec's head still rotated back and forth, but he didn't respond.

Miriam finished with the chemicals; she adjusted the enlarger, then squatted at its base. Quite suddenly, it hit her: Dana was right. She had created this room. Every detail, down to the peeling linoleum floor and water-damaged ceiling, was already etched into her memory. This was the same darkroom she'd used in college.

Perhaps she was dreaming the whole thing. After all, it wasn't really possible for her to make her own illusion real enough for everyone else to partake in. It was totally, completely illogical. Completely unreal.

As if by her suggestion, the room seemed to tremble. Its features blurred at the edges.

"What's wrong?" Dana stared tensely down at her.

"Nothing . . . ." Miriam shook herself. Don't think, Miriam. Just do it. She resisted any thoughts about what would happen in the room suddenly disappeared.

"Miriam," Dana said, suddenly sounding doubtful, "don't do anything if you're unsure about it."

Miriam calmly continued the preparations. "Have some faith in me, Dana," she replied gently. "I'm making a way out. You can trust me on that."

Miriam narrated her actions to the others, speaking as assuredly as possible. "The paper is reactive to the whole spectrum of visible light, so we have to develop the image in total darkness. The first chemical is the developer. That'll reveal the image of the workshop. It's a shaky process, and the image won't be completely in focus -" She cut herself off abruptly, struck by the note of doubt in her words. "Actually, it's not that shaky," she corrected herself. "I've done it dozens of times. I can get it in focus. We'll have a five by seven foot image of a functional room, and all we have to do is walk into it."

"That's too small," Alec said.

"It'll be fine. It'll probably be at its normal size once we get into it. The camera captured the actual graphics of the room - right? We weren't really taking pictures in here. We're already walking around inside a series of pictures, and we just commanded the computer to save some of the images we were walking through. The only trick with this process," she accentuated carefully, "is that we have to keep the lights off after the image is developed. Normally, the fixer removes all the undeveloped substances from the paper; but since we aren't fixing the image, it's going to be unstable with respect to any extra light. The added light would ruin the image. We'll have to walk into the workshop in the dark; but once we get in there, it should be as we left it, with the lights on. Getting in there is the only trick." Miriam pulled a ladder from beside the counter, unfolded it next to the enlarger, and nodded to Dana. "Turn off the light."

Dana flicked the switch, immersing the room in darkness.

"I don't like this," Alec muttered.

His comment was followed by silence.

Miriam unlatched the bottom drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. She brushed her fingers lightly against the top, then the underside. The glossy side was facing up. She placed it that way in the base of the enlarger.

She climbed the ladder and inserted the negative at the top, then flipped on the overhead light and started counting. Miriam concentrated intently on the numbers, pushing aside all doubtful thoughts. She turned off the light, removed the paper from the enlarger, slid it into the large developing tray, pushed it down into the shallow mixture, started counting. She slid the tray back and forth on the counter, gently agitating the chemical bath.

Miriam counted to a hundred and ten. That should do it. She removed the paper, clumsily transferring it to the stop bath.

"There," she said softly, "It just needs to stay in the stop bath for a short time. Then I'll set it up against the wall, and we can just walk in."

"And we can't turn the light on?" Alec asked.

"No," Miriam replied sharply. "No lights."

Leeann finally spoke: "How are we supposed to know whether it worked or not?"

"We'll know when we walk into it." Miriam pulled the photo paper from the tub. "Dana, help me get this up. I'm going to stand it up against the back wall. I need you to help me hold it in place."

"Okay . . . ." Dana slipped along the dry side of the room, meeting Miriam at the rear wall. They fumbled to get the paper in place.

"Just hold it there," Miriam said.

"Here . . . I'm going to prop this ladder against one side."

"All right. Come and hold this side, then."

"Hang on . . . ."

"Leeann and Alec, come over here."

Silence. Were they still there? She called their names again.

"Yeah," Leeann replied quietly.

Miriam took a deep breath. "Okay - I'll go in first." Before anyone could protest, Miriam stepped through the paper.

The fluorescent light of the workshop washed over her. Miriam stood still and blinked. She whirled around.

Everything was just as she had seen it before. Here and there, certain objects seemed a bit fuzzy-looking, but they were all situated just as she remembered them. There was no portal back to the darkroom - not that she could see.

Then, Dana appeared from out of nowhere, crashing into her and sending her reeling backward.

"It worked," he breathed.

She hesitated, then spoke with s much confidence as she could muster. "Of course it did."

"I hope they follow us." Dana turned, staring back at nothing. "They're scared. If they don't come in, I can still get out myself, and then help them -"

He was cut off as the other two came barreling unsteadily into the room, walking right into him. Miriam helped him steady himself.

Alec unleashed a tirade of swear words as he looked around. "This is insane and amazing, and totally creepy . . . ." He wandered across the room, muttering to himself.

After a moment, he turned to Dana with a frown on his face. "Bad news," he said, poking a finger into a series of buttons on one of the computers. "This place isn't functional either." He grabbed a latch next to the portal doors. It didn't budge.

"Are you sure?" Dana was on the other side of the room, staring intently at a laptop screensaver. "The screen on this one is moving - see?" He placed a fingertip on the keyboard, activating the mouse. "Look - it works fine."

"None of this stuff works at all. Come and look."

Dana and Alec poked around the room, testing various devices. Leeann, who had been standing still and quiet at one side of the room, noticed what they had missed. "The area that was caught in the photo is immobile," she spoke up. "The rest is functional. See? Alec took the picture from over here. Everything lying in the angle of the camera shot is kind of fuzzy, and it's all immobile. You can even see where the boundary is." She lifted a finger, tracing a line in the air. She was right. The area captured by the photo was slightly darker, and less defined. The portals had been included in the shot, along with the CAVEs and much of the computer equipment.

"Holy shit," Alec said. "You're right - I can see it."

Dana was quiet.

"Alec is right - this is insane. This whole idea is insane. I wish I had never agreed to do this." Leeann cast an accusatory look at Dana. "Thanks a lot, Dana. I'm sure your brilliance will be a huge benefit to society."

He stared at her, his face paling.

"Leeann, shut up. You're not helping." Alec turned toward Dana. "What now?"

Dana hesitated for a long time, then sat down at the laptop. "I want to make sure we're right about this," he replied softly. "Leeann, Alec, take a look outside, and see if the yard is still there. See if it's functional. I'm going to see what I can work with in here. There should be a way to access the program and activate the program stop; I'll try to figure it out while you're looking around."

"I don't want to go out there," Leeann began, but stopped when she saw the look on Dana's face.

"Go outside," he said flatly. His eyes were severe, almost threatening, as he stared in her direction.

The other two went quietly out the back door, stepping over the threshold carefully, as if testing its reliability. Miriam went quietly to Dana's side.

"I really don't feel good about this," Dana said, his eyes shifting cautiously around the room. "I'm trying to stay optimistic, but I feel freaked out just being in here. I wish I had set the system stop timer for four hours instead of eight. Then I think we'd be perfectly safe just waiting it out, but who the hell knows . . . ." He was shaking his head. "I just don't know what else to do. This is totally messed up."

"Do we have other options?"

"The only other option that I know of is waiting it out, but things are just falling apart in here. I don't like either option. I have no idea how to handle this room, and my instincts are just telling me that this is not a good place to hang out. We're standing in an invisible scene on a partially developed photograph."

"We're not really."

"No, we're not really. But we are. According to the VE, we are." He gestured to the workshop, still shaking his head. "This is happening, right? But it's impossible. The computer program isn't supposed to understand that I designed the cameras to look like thirty-five millimeters. It isn't supposed to understand film and slides and all that shit; it's just supposed to record the goddamn images we shoot. So this can't be happening." He reached around the machines and fiddled with cables, working in staccato movements. The veins on his hands stood out. Dana looked as though he had aged several years in a moment's time, as if he was evolving into a different person. The timid, boyish persona was disappearing, hardening into its next phase of existence.

"So where is this coming from?" Dana continued. "It's like we put the idea into the program, like it's interacting with us to the point where it's forming itself from our thoughts, instead of just manipulating our visions on an individual basis. We're all seeing this; it's actually part of the program, and yet no one programmed it in. One of us must have subconsciously given the program this idea. So, hypothetically, all we have to do is cue the program to give us a way out. But we all believe we're trapped, and so we're trapped . . . or, maybe it's just one of us who believes we're trapped, and hence we're trapping all the others, too. I mean, you created the darkroom, right? You made it real, and the rest of us wouldn't have been able to see it otherwise. So maybe it's just one of us who's causing us to become trapped here. I would like to know who it is, so I can shake that person and . . . ." He paused, his hands suddenly going still. "Maybe it's me," he said, looking up at Miriam. "I've been so worried about things going wrong the whole time we've been in here. I constantly think of possible scenarios like this one. If anyone is giving this kind of idea to the program, it's probably me." He began working the equipment again, slowly, absently. "So all I need to do is have some faith, right? I just believe that everything is going to work out for the best. We create our own reality. Everything is comprised of shifting bundles of energy that can be manipulated. Right?" He looked up again. "Come on, agree with me."

"I agree with you," Miriam replied softly.

"Okay. So everything is going to turn out great; we'll have an interesting, suspenseful story to tell, and we'll move on to the next phase of everything that's good in our lives. Okay, there's my faith. I don't doubt that things are going to work out for the absolute best. In fact, I'll even go ahead and just . . . ."

Miriam saw a certain decisiveness glittering in his eyes. He stared at her for several seconds, and then he ducked his head again, fiddling with the connections. Swear words spouted from his mouth in hushed whispers. His fingers banged out frustrated commands over the keyboard.

Alec and Leeann returned. "Everything else is functional, Dana." Alec watched for a moment, saw the tension writhing in Dana's body.

"Okay," Dana muttered.

Leeann wandered quietly into the studio, her face unreadable and pale. She walked with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her eyes scanning the room aimlessly.

Alec nodded at Miriam. "Why don't you and Leeann go outside and do a little exploring?" he asked gently. "We'll sit here and try to get this figured out. Okay?"

"Okay." Miriam held open the door. "Let's go, Leeann."

A blanket of snow reflected the luminescence of the street lights; everything was softly lit, as if in defense against the moonless night. Dana had neglected to program any celestial bodies in the sky.

"How are you feeling?" Miriam asked.

"Oh, I'm fine now." Leeann sighed, letting her head fall back, gazing at the empty sky. "It's good to be outside, and in a familiar place. Let's walk around the block, okay?"

"Okay. Do you think they'll be able to get us out of here?"

"Dana is a genius. He'll figure it out. Anyway, even if this doesn't work, there's always the system stop timer. That probably won't fail . . . ." Leeann paused thoughtfully. "And even if it does, there are the neighbors and the police . . . they'll find us eventually . . . after we've gone mad in our CAVEs . . . ." She cast a sly glance at Miriam and laughed. "I'm just kidding. It'll be fine."

"I'm sure it will. Dana is really upset, though. I think he's beating himself up over this whole thing."

"Sure he is. That's what he always does; he takes responsibility for everything - especially things that go wrong."

"I'm worried about him." Miriam glanced back toward the house. "I think he needs to take a break from all this, but he's determined to get us out as soon as possible. I kind of wish he would just sit back and let Alec handle it for a while."

"Well, Alec doesn't know the program like Dana does. Dana is a freak. He worked this thing to the point where I wondered if I needed to get an intervention for him. I mean, he sits at work all day and works on this stuff, and then he just goes home and stays up at night doing . . . ."

Leeann stopped talking. They had taken to the sidewalk and were coming up on some sort of lawn ornament: a life-size effigy of a young, light-haired woman in a flowing gown. The figure was lit from within, her synthetic flesh subtly radiant and warm. Light flowed from under her dress. The luminescent stage added to her angelic demeanor, spreading its soft beams across the frigid snow. Miriam studied the figure curiously. There was a certain ease to her posture, a kind of peace in the gesture of her arms; but seriousness flickered in the mannequin's face, especially in the eyes, shadowed where the dark irises and pupils had been painted on.

"Ooh," Leeann said. "It's Claire. I have to get a picture of this."

"Who?"

Leeann turned to Miriam with an air of smiling bewilderment. "Didn't Dana ever tell you about this?"

"No."

"Oh, I'm really surprised he didn't mention it. It's such a fascinating display, and so sad, too. Dana invites me over every time a new display is up. The woman who lives next-door had a daughter who died from some sort of man-made disease. I can't remember the name of it, but this girl was in a car accident, and some doctors used a new type of dye to locate some fractures in her body. It turned out the dye was toxic. They used it on about fifteen patients, and they all got this fatal disease. So this woman designs mannequins, or something, and she designed one that looks like her daughter, and she sets it up in her yard every Christmas."

"What?"

"She sets this up as a memorial of her daughter, except she usually puts angel wings and a halo on her."

Miriam stared at the display, at the disquieting expression on the mannequin's face. "To be honest, it's a little disturbing to me."

"I think it's sweet." Leeann pulled out Dana's camera. "I wonder if Dana is going to tell his neighbor that he put this into his VE. I'll have to show her the picture."

Miriam flashed back to the study she'd been reading on body responses to hypnosis, to a woman's flesh beginning to burn in the imagined heat of a pencil. The researchers had performed another experiment using a pin, telling the woman that she would feel no pain; then they stabbed her with the pin as she chatted happily with them. She did not appear to feel any discomfort. But when they placed the pencil in the woman's hand and gave her some paper, her hand began to write Please stop hurting me, even as she kept chatting, seemingly oblivious to what she was writing. The researchers determined that even when parts of you are muted to suffering and violence and neglect, there is a voice within you that tries to protest what is happening, that must bring light to the events that are being denied.

Miriam stared back at the glowing effigy. The eyes appeared to stare directly into hers, and the face suddenly looked ghoulish and grim in the dim light: a phantasm of a tragic accident. Miriam shivered a little. "Let's go back inside. I feel . . . ."

"Cold?" Leeann finished, snapping the photo. "Isn't that neat? Your body is actually cool by virtual suggestion, even though it's warm in the CAVE. I just can't get over how exciting this is. Even with all the quirks we've had to deal with. Are you having fun, or are you still kind of scared?"

The sound of her voice drifted into crystalline silence; the delicate, frozen absence of response settled in eerie perfection among the motionless angel and the icy glare that covered a softer, more malleable snow. Leeann looked up from the camera.

Marion seemed paralyzed, her face lit with alarm. Leeann turned to see what she was looking at. In a moment, she, too, was immobilized, so that the entire VE was suddenly devoid of motion, except for the flickering of fluorescent light in the study.

Beyond the staunch, still terror in Miriam's eyes was the tomb-like semblance of the workshop. At the window, a fragile-looking, human-shaped mound of ash stood with its arm raised in a gesture of alarm. Panic was visible in its posture, although its features were vague, its color uniform. A little hollow opened in the face where the figure had opened its mouth to shout.

Miriam looked again at the angel, as if in accusation. It simply looked back at her, its eyes gentle, constant, and vaguely urgent. Lulled by the angel's beauty, Leeann had ignited a fatal spark, destroying the space manifested as undeveloped film, burning it to ash with a flash of light from her camera. Miriam could hear the faint zapping of the fluorescent light as it illuminated the wreckage. She acknowledged fatality in that sound, the sound of a bug lantern being touched in mathematically perfect intervals by insects lured to the glow, a reoccurring death signaled by each buzzing burst of light.

Once an unalterable station, nothing more than a photograph, the workshop was now invaded and transformed. Made vulnerable in the composition of that space, the two avatars had suffered the same fate. Dana had probably tried to warn them not to expose it to light; the light would destroy the captured image, would totally obliterate everything contained within it. Miriam saw terror in the open mouth in the pillar of ash at the window, in the face frozen in the beginning of a shout. She felt the echo of his panic. Don't - you're going to kill us! An immediate terror, once realized, became faith in the form of fear; the possibility of the event transformed into belief, then into reality, killing the believers. I've got a lot of faith in the power of faith. Alec, too, was turned to dust; he had paused in his work to stare in the direction of the window.

"Oh, God," Leeann breathed, clutching Miriam's arm. "This can't be right. Wake up. We have to find a way to wake up. Alec? Maybe they're awake and they can hear us. When the study was destroyed, they went back to reality, like system stop. It's like system stop, Dana must have implemented some sort of prevention for this type of thing. He wouldn't let this happen. They're not dead, right?" Leeann's voice cracked as she stared at the landscape of ash. "They couldn't be. No, they're not. This isn't real. Miriam, help me, we have to wake up. God, please help us, we have to find a way out."

Miriam stared into the remnants of conviction on Dana's face. Nothing had survived the transformation but the impression of panic, Dana's faith in his own prediction. It wasn't just the photographic portion of the room that had been destroyed; the effect had seeped into the other parts of the workshop, the parts that lied in the angle of the flash of light. Miriam could not make sense of it. She could only think of how Dana would have liked to know of the outcome: that a strong enough faith, or a strong enough fear, can change outer reality, can go beyond body response. Their faith had altered the composition of the program, like some sort of magical, but circumstantially horrifying miracle. Miriam shuddered at the thought of what she might find in the CAVEs.

Leeann's eyes were squeezed shut, her flesh white around the creases, white where her fingertips pressed against her temples. "Wake up," she commanded. "Wake up."

"I don't want to wake up," Miriam whispered.