Chapter
Twelve
Phase Three
The rest of that Saturday was spent with the GundTech reps discussing every question the families had about the Academy.
Safety?
The GundTech programmers had inserted many different safeguards into the technology. Plus, every second of every simulation would be monitored.
Invasion of privacy?
No, the monitoring was not an invasion of privacy because everyone would know they were being observed. In fact, it was a condition to which users must agree.
Isolation?
The inventor of the IHT realized, better than anyone, the need for social contact with others of the same age. The Academy was not going to be a school unto itself. It was designed to be an extension of the student’s regular schooling. If Cameron and Rosa were accepted, Debbie and Max would work with their schools to schedule two consecutive periods each day for Academy classes, and see to it that the students receive proper academic credit. Applicants could, and should, still be involved in all the same school activities and sports as they were before.
Time differences?
On certain occasions, events might occur at strange hours of the day. These events would be relatively few, and their timing would be scheduled in such a way that the same people would not have to get up in the middle of the night every time. Starting times for academy-wide events would be rotated through the time zones. Individual classes would be comprised of five to ten students within two or three adjacent time zones. If Rosa and Cameron were accepted, they might be in a class with someone from Canada, Mexico, or even Central America.
Boys and girls together?
A delicate issue, to be sure, since the IHT experience was so “real” and could be considered “safe” by inquisitive teens with raging hormones. Again, the answer was monitoring—every second of every simulation. Student-created programs would have to be reviewed by Academy staff before being authorized.
Student created programs?
Yes, Academy students will have the opportunity
to create their own IHT programs.
The reps stayed with the families until well after super. Before they left, they gave each family a special GundTech com-address to which they could direct any further questions and to which they should send their acceptance of all the points in the Academy enrollment, if their child was admitted. Cameron and Rosa should find out within twenty-four hours whether or not they had made it to the creativity phase of the evaluation process.
Once the reps left, Rosa and Cameron spent the
rest of the evening talking it over with their parents. It was not until
Sunday morning that they could speak to each other.
“Incoming message,” said Sam.
Cameron rolled over in bed and squinted through blurry eyes at the clock on his nightstand. It was 6:37! “Who is it, Sam?” he asked through a yawn so deep it penetrated to his toes.
“Rosa Costas, Cameron.”
“Put her on, please… NO! Wait a second! I mean… Uh… Please wait, Sam.” Cameron swung his legs over the edge of the bed and inserted his feet into the jeans, which had been deposited, accordion-style, on the floor the night before. He was still wearing his shirt from the previous day. Next, he hastily made up his bed. This amounted to not much more than throwing the bedspread over it. Finally, he sat down at his desk and said, “Put her on, please, Sam.” He tried to give the impression he had been up for hours and was waiting for her. “About time, cowgirl,” he said, trying to get the upper hand.
“That won’t work, Cheese Boy. Obviously you just crawled out of bed. Your hair looks like you just took your head out of a blender.”
Cameron quickly tried to smooth his mop of brown hair.
“Oh, gross!”
“What?” asked Cameron testily.
“You’ve got a snot-wad hanging half-way out your nose!”
This was the final humiliation. Cameron turned his head away from the screen and dragged the back of his hand under his nose. Nothing!
“Ha!” said Rosa. “Gottcha! Gottcha good, Cheese Boy!”
“Very funny. I owe you big time!”
“Quick, check your messages.”
“Any messages, Sam?”
“One Cameron. It’s from a Ms. Gwen Johanssen.”
Cameron gave Rosa a questioning look.
“We made it to the next level,” she said in reply to the unspoken question.
“So, what’s the test?”
“Look at the message and see.”
Cameron asked Sam to display the message from Miss Johanssen.
Dear Rosa and Cameron,
I am happy to inform you that you have been selected to advance to the creativity phase of evaluation.
You have two weeks to submit something creative that you have done together. I’m sorry, but since you have applied as a team, you may not submit two items demonstrating individual creativity. It must be a team project. Something old or something new, but it must be from both of you.
G. Johanssen
Director of Communications
Cameron leaned back in his chair. “Any thoughts?”
“Something old or new, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what it says.”
“What about that project we did for the GundTech contest last year? We could submit that, maybe.” Rosa’s voice displayed no confidence in her suggestion.
“Nah,” said Cameron after only token consideration.
“Nah,” said Rosa in agreement.
“It needs to be something fun.”
“Can you dance in a tutu and tights while I play the kazoo?” Rosa’s words reeked with sarcasm.
“Wait a minute, I do play trumpet. That’s creative, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I don’t dance.”
“Rosa, do you play an instrument?”
“No… not really. I can strum a few chords on the guitar. Nothing I would do in public. And my voice drives the coyotes away! So singing is out of the question, too.”
They puzzled over the problem on and off all day Sunday and well into the night.
“We better sleep on it,” they agreed finally.
On Monday morning Billy Peters came to visit while Cameron shoveled golf balls into the ball washer.
“Mornin’, Cam.”
Cameron bristled at being called “Cam.” The only other way to shorten his name was “Ron,” but he didn’t like that either.
“Morning, Billy.” Cameron kept dumping shovel loads of balls into the ball soaker as he and Billy had another slow-motion conversation about nothing in particular. Billy always liked to watch the conveyor transport the balls from the soaker to the scrubber and then be deposited into the ball bin by the scrubber. Not once had Billy ever asked if he could feed some balls into the machine. At one point in the conversation, Cameron rested upon the handle of the shovel and watched Billy concentrate on the process of the machine. Billy turned and smiled broadly at Cameron. His eyes beamed with joy through his thick lenses. There it was again—the trick of light, optics and just the right tilt to Billy’s head.
An idea struck Cameron like a bolt of lightning. He set the shovel aside, put both hands firmly on Billy’s shoulders, and said, “Billy-boy, I’m going to make you into a star!”
Thirteen seconds later,
Billy said, “Cool!”
That night, Rosa sat in her room making texture maps of Billy’s face from screen captures taken as he rotated slowly in front of Cameron’s com screen—one rotation with his glasses on, one without.
Both Rosa and Cameron were good with computer animation. They had used it extensively in the project they created for the contest. The difference between them was, Rosa was an artist. She could draw and paint and sculpt. What Cameron could do was write and animate.
The story had come to him in that moment of inspiration at the driving range. Cameron described the situation, characters, and locations, while Billy was posing and Rosa was creating.
The next night, Cameron sent Rosa the completed script, and she displayed the wire-frame version of the “Billy” character for Cameron’s approval.
“Cool,” said Cameron mimicking his friend’s voice.
Because of the remote location of Rosa’s house, it was up to Cameron to gather his friends to give voices to the characters, except for the parts of “Mother” and “Miss Hayes,” which were performed by Esmer Costas. Rosa was surprised to discover her mother had taken acting classes in college. They worked feverishly, trying to get their production completed on time.
On the Sunday night before the deadline, Cameron’s family and friends gathered in his living room. Ed Rush had moved his multiCom into the room to accommodate the premiere.
The Holstiens found out about the project from Mrs. Costas, and they surprised Rosa with a premier party by the pool at the main house. Mr. Holstein positioned their large-screen multiCom so everyone could watch from the pool.
At the prescribed time, Cameron’s living room appeared on the big screen in New Mexico, and the picture of the people in the pool appeared in the Rush’s living room. They all cheered and waved merrily at each other.
“Ready, Rosa?” asked Cameron nervously.
“Roll it, Cheese Boy!” she beamed.
The two parties, which were more than a thousand miles apart, shared a laugh.
“Ha! Cheese-boy!” said Jenny.
“Cheese Boy!” echoed Billy in record time.
Both locations became quiet as the show began.
– End Chapter Twelve –
