* * * * *
Bright light crashed into Anand’s eyes and he was momentarily blinded. The transition from the dim blue-green light of the control room to the bright mid-day sun of Squabash left him disoriented and off-balance. As he struggled to open his eyes, he could hear cries from off to his right. The saloon girl and the village girl were calling out to him in both western slang and Chinese. Anand could not understand what they were saying.
The strong taste of blood in his mouth made him gag. Anand needed to quickly orient himself to this host. He knew that the Marshal might draw and fire any second.
Anand stretched and flexed his arms to verify the remote interface device was working properly. At the same time, he moved his hands away from the gun on his hip. He did this so the Marshal would not think he was making any aggressive moves.
The host’s left arm felt strong, but the right arm responded sluggishly. Pain was not transmitted from the host’s body through the interface device, so it was hard for Anand to discern how badly the host was wounded. It was obvious however, that the host’s body was suffering due to the slow response on the right side.
Anand thought how antiquated this interface felt compared to the new neural transplant that he had recently experienced back in the botanical gardens in Los Angeles. Using the old fashioned interface device, Anand could manipulate the host effectively, but he was only getting rudimentary feedback from the sensory receptors. It was a poor comparison to the new synaptic implant device. Anand could not feel the vitality of the host. He was not fully integrated with the host body. Memories of his fleeting interface with Sahdna welled to the front of his mind, but he quickly pushed them aside. He needed to focus. The future use of this new technology, their new technology was in jeopardy.
Anand tried to lift the host’s arms above his head to indicate he was ready to surrender but the right arm would not lift. So, instead, he held his left arm straight out in front with the palm facing out.
“Stop” Anand cried, “Stop, this gunfight cannot continue. My name is Anand Ramasubramanian. I am the senior technician at Wild West Alive and I have Synapped into this host. This is no longer a rogue cowboy. The situation is now under control.”
Marshal Dirk Redburn was a blurry image that slowly sharpened as Anand’s eyes adjusted to the bright light. Redburn was standing close; too close. At this range, any shots fired would not miss. As Anand’s eyes continued to adjust, he could see Dirk Redburn’s mean Chinese features and thin beard. Redburn’s eyes were shaded by his broad white hat.
“Draw,” was all Redburn said in response.
Anand called out loudly “I know who you are. I know you are controlling the Marshal. I know you staged this entire gunfight. If you shoot this host, it will be murder and I will take it public, I will expose you. My team in the control room is recording this and there are over three thousand viewers watching us right now. The players know this is real, they know the difference.”
The Marshal stood silently. The old style interface device does not transmit emotional response, so if the remote player was either surprised, angry or both. Anand could not tell by looking at the face of Marshal Redburn.
After a long pause the remote player spoke through the voice of Tommy Chin, a.k.a. Marshal Redburn, “I have recordings too. Do you think we funded your research and did not monitor your activities? If you go public with your tapes, then I will go public with mine. You and Dr. Sa…”
Before he could say her name Anand drew his six-gun. In retrospect, he would convince himself that he calculated the cost to her reputation, her career, and the success of their new technology. All that she had accomplished, and all they had accomplished working together would be tainted by scandal. Her family would turn their backs in shame, and her community would cast her out. But in truth, Anand did not think. He reacted. It was a reflex action.
When Anand reacted, the six-gun leaped into the left hand of the host and started firing. The blast from the muzzle pounded into Marshal RedBurn’s chest knocking him back on his heels and shutting him up. The next shot brought him to his knees. Marshal Redburn managed to draw his red-striped gun from his kneeling position in an effort to try to return fire, but when Anand fired a third shot, and Redburn’s gun dropped from his hand.
Anand stepped his wounded host through the small cloud of black gun smoke that had formed in front of him and stood over the broken body of Tommy Chin, a.k.a. Marshal Dirk Redburn. Anand looked at the host who was now badly wounded. Anand wondered if the remote player was still connected, and then he fired again at point blank range. After that, the gun just clicked and clicked as the hammer fell on the empty shells in the cylinder.
“Synaptic Interface between a human controller and an animal host is possible to achieve. The challenge lies in finding sympathetic human reflexes and or sensory perceptions that can be integrated to the Animals unique physiology. Consider a tiger, for example, the animals tail motion could be mapped to a human’s sexual response.”
- Dr Sahdna Singh