The concept of a brain-computer interface headset that allowed you to record, play back, and/or simulate a human being’s entire sensory experience had appeared in a bunch of Halliday’s favorite sci-fi novels, TV shows, and movies. There was SimStim—the fictional Simulated Stimulation technology William Gibson had envisioned in Neuromancer. And a similar form of experience-recording technology had also been featured in Brainstorm and Strange Days, two of Halliday’s favorite films…
If the ONI could do everything Halliday claimed, then he’d once again done the impossible. Through sheer force of will and brainpower, he’d once again turned science fiction into science fact, without much regard for the long-term consequences.
I also wondered about the name Halliday had chosen for his invention. I’d seen enough anime to know that oni was also a Japanese word for a giant horned demon from the pits of hell.
“The ONI’s software and documentation have already been emailed to your private OASIS account,” Halliday continued. “Along with complete schematics of the headset and the 3-D printer files necessary to fabricate more of them.”
Halliday paused and stared into the camera for a moment before continuing.
“Once you’ve tested the ONI yourself, I think you’ll realize—just as I did—that this invention has the power to drastically alter the nature of human existence. I think it could help humanity. But it could also make things even worse. It will all depend on the timing, I think. That’s why I’m entrusting its fate to you, my heir. You must decide when—or if—the world is ready for this technology.”
His frail body shook with a coughing fit. Then he took a rasping breath and spoke one final time.
“Take all the time you need to decide,” he said. “And don’t let anyone rush you. Once Pandora’s box has been opened, there’s no closing it again. So…choose wisely.”
He gave the camera a small wave goodbye. Then the recording ended and a VIDEO FILE DELETED message appeared on the monitor just before it powered itself off.
I sat there for a long time. Could this be some sort of posthumous practical joke? Because the alternative didn’t seem to make any sense. If the ONI really could do everything he said it could, then it would be the most powerful communication tool ever invented. Why would he have kept it a secret? Why not just patent it and release it to the world?
I glanced back down at the headset in my hands. It had been locked away in this vault for the past eight years, waiting patiently for me to find it. And now that I had, there was really only one thing left for me to do.
I put the headset back inside the egg, then I turned around and carried it out of the archives, planning to walk back to the elevator at a calm, dignified pace. But my self-control evaporated in seconds, and I began to run as fast as my legs would carry me.
The employees I encountered as I hurried back upstairs were treated to the sight of their wild-eyed boss sprinting through the hallowed halls of Gregarious Simulation Systems, clutching a giant silver egg.
* * *
Back in my office, I locked the door, lowered the blinds, and sat down at my desktop computer to read over the ONI documentation Halliday had emailed me.
I was grateful that Samantha wasn’t there. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to talk me out of testing the ONI. Because I was worried she might try to, and if she did, she would’ve succeeded. （I’d recently discovered that when you’re madly in love with someone they can persuade you to do pretty much anything.）
There was no way I could pass up such a historic opportunity. It would’ve been like passing up the chance to be the first person to walk on the moon. Besides, I wasn’t worried about the ONI being dangerous. If using the headset was potentially harmful, Halliday would’ve warned me. After all, I’d just won the contest to become his sole heir. He wouldn’t have wanted any harm to come to me.
That’s what I kept telling myself as I plugged the ONI headset into my OASIS console and placed it gently on my head. Its telescoping bands retracted automatically, pressing the array of sensor and transmitter pads mounted on them firmly against the unique contours of my cranium. Then its metal joints tightened up and the whole spiderlike device locked itself onto my skull so that its pads couldn’t be jostled or removed while the device was interfacing with my brain. According to the ONI documentation, forcibly removing the headset while it was in operation could severely damage the wearer’s brain and/or leave them in a permanent coma. So the titanium-reinforced safety bands made certain this couldn’t happen. I found this little detail comforting instead of unsettling. Riding in an automobile was risky, too, if you didn’t wear your seatbelt…