Sycamore (Near-Future Dystopia) (4 page)

~

“I’m here to tell you that the UltraLenses are capable of far more than we use them for. These Lenses have the ability to change the way we interact with the world, and each other, on every level. The question we should be asking, therefore, is not, “
What kind of device can make the most of the Lenses?
” but rather, “
What kind of system can the Lenses make possible?
” The answer? Let’s find out.”

Amos looked at Kurt with an intensity that was simultaneously frightening and encouraging. Whatever he was thinking, he was interested.

“When you look at something like a QR barcode for a few seconds and end up seeing a movie trailer in your Lenses, what’s really happening there? Basically, the Lenses are capturing the image and sending it to the server, where it’s recognised as a link. Whatever content is hosted at that link is then displayed. As soon as I got my hands on the UltraLenses, I went to work on passing the images they were taking in over to a computer. Obviously that required intercepting the communication between my Lenses and the server, but that wasn—

Less than a minute into the pitch, Amos interrupted Kurt. “Do you mean to say that you illegally discovered and exploited a vulnerability in Sycamore’s transfer protocol?”

“No,” said Kurt. “The word exploit implies something black-hat, and I wouldn’t call what I found a vulnerability.”

“So what would you call it? A hole?”

Kurt shook his head and tried not to smile. “Try canyon.” His audacity silenced Amos and engendered disbelief throughout the audience. “Anyway, let’s just say it wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. Before long I worked it out and managed to send images to my computer instead of the server.”

Randy’s advice about the present tense came to Kurt’s mind and he put it to immediate use. “So while I’m in my room playing around with everything, the Lenses are recording my field of vision and sending it to the computer. But rather than a single frame I’m capturing 60 of them per second. And rather than analysing the images for linkable content, the computer is storing them. Everything I see is being recorded. I’ve turned the Lenses into the streaming video camera they should have been from the start.”

A cry of “that’s impossible!” came from one of the contestants who had already pitched. Kurt couldn’t remember what his innovation had been, so it couldn’t have been anything good.

Amos turned to the complainer sternly in an appeal for silence. “Please.”

“No,” he said, “I
won’t
be quiet. How come Mr Wildcard is allowed to make these baseless claims? It’s easy to win people over with fantasy.”

“How come no one else was interrupted like this?” Kurt asked.

Amos answered. “No one else was making claims like yours. I hope you can back them up.”

“I haven’t finished explaining it yet, but if you want a demonstration…?”

Amos looked along his front row then back to Kurt. “I’m sure I speak for the millions watching around the country when I say that we do, Mr Jacobs.”

“Then watch this.” Kurt flipped open the laptop on the table beside him. “Bring that camera in closer,” he said. The cameraman obliged. As well as going out live on channel 43, the pictures appeared on the auditorium’s big screen.

A command line filled the laptop’s display and Kurt typed something too quickly for anyone to read. Seconds later the screen was filled with a never-ending image loop of itself within itself — Kurt’s vision was being transmitted to the computer and replicated in real time. He spun around to the audience and they appeared on the big screen. He welcomed their gasps.

Next he focused on Amos, who smiled at the sight of himself. He had doubted Kurt but was happy to be proven wrong. Kurt had only one word for him: “See?”

“Incredible,” said Amos.

Kurt shook his head with carefully affected nonchalance. “Child’s play.”

Amos whispered something to the man beside him. Kurt tried not to let it distract him.

“We can transfer either the raw feed, like this, or the augmented vista. There are a few extra steps for the latter, but…” Kurt typed away on his laptop. “... Here we go.”

The clock and everything else that Kurt saw through his Lenses was now on the screen. The audience had been amazed by the initial demonstration but this additional step hugely impressed the front row.

“Okay. The purpose of that demonstration was to show that we can record the totality of our visual experience. Fine. But when we start streaming the images to a portable device, well, that’s when it gets exciting. We need something powerful enough to handle the data but portable enough to always be with us. Think of a DVR. Before DVRs, a TV could only display what the antenna was giving it in the same way that our Lenses can only see through to reality and augment it with whatever the server delivers. But if we had a small processor that was always near the Lenses like the DVR is always near the TV, it could record what we were seeing and relay it at our pleasure. We could literally rewind real life.

“Today, ‘portable device’ is synonymous with ‘smartphone.’ A system needs a processor, a display, and a control interface. That used to mean a PC, a monitor and a keyboard-mouse combo. Then came the era of the touchscreen: a display and an interface rolled into one. Smartphones housed the processor under that touchscreen to give us portability and efficiency.

“So what did the UltraLenses add? An invisible and unobtrusive intermediary. The Lenses added Lenses.” Kurt paused. “Why are we adding things?”

“Where are you going with this?” asked Amos, unhappy with Kurt’s tone.

“Exactly. Where
are
we going with this? Sycamore was supposed to change everything. I’ve been wearing these things for the last eight months and my life is the same. So where am I going? Let me finish and you might find out.”

“That’s the idea, Mr Jacobs.”

“I know. Where was I? Okay. I’m not a big fan of glass. Whatever we do, we’re always looking at glass. Families in their living rooms, looking at glass. Children on the schoolbus, looking at glass. Half of you in this room, looking at glass.” A man in an aisle seat near Professor Walker looked up from his lap. “Put your phone down for five minutes,” said Kurt. “We both know your life isn’t that important.”

Some of the audience laughed. Amos smirked. Kurt saw.

“I’m not a fan of glass screens because we no longer need them. We don’t need TVs now that we have these excellent Lenses, so why do we persist in carrying smartphones around? Some of the cool kids don’t — they use smart watches. But what’s the difference? They still have to wear a bulky watch and look down at it to see their data. I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that. Obviously the UltraLenses lack a sufficient interface and processor to fully replace phones and watches, but I’m sure we can all agree that they represent the best means of displaying data. The UltraLenses are our system’s display.

“Now, onto the interface.” Kurt turned to his laptop, still relaying his vision, and began performing gestures on its trackpad. “Something like this. Look how easily it controls the zoom of my UltraLenses; having this with me all the time would be like having binoculars with me all the time. I’m not suggesting we carry around a trackpad in place of a smartphone or watch because that wouldn’t achieve anything. What I’m suggesting is that we turn something else
into
a trackpad.

“I shouldn’t have to say that this is possible, but just in case: this is possible. A small chip can attach to the bottom of all sorts of surfaces and turn them into virtual trackpads. I couldn’t afford to buy a chip like that to demonstrate, but it’s real. They sense pressure and vibration to determine the nature of the gesture and, as long as whatever the chip is attached to isn’t too thick, it works as well as a physical multitouch trackpad like this one.

“With touchscreens, we used to use styluses. People said a finger would never be accurate enough. Those people didn’t consider the infinity of human ingenuity; all we needed was a different kind of screen. We used to walk around with a device in one hand and a stylus in the other: hand to stylus to device to hand. The stylus fell in the wake of progress. The device is about to join it.

“And I haven’t forgotten about the processor, in case you were wondering. It’s the chip that lives under our virtual trackpad. I say ‘chip’ for ease of understanding. We have a microprocessor and a vibration/pressure sensor. Both are very, very small and can be contained within a bubble of sorts, no larger than a few grains of rice. Think of the bubble as a chip.”

Kurt looked down to Amos and saw him tracing a circle in his left palm. He was following.

“Everything I’m saying tonight is important, but this is the most important part: the day of the handheld device has passed. All we need is a display, a processor and a control interface. The UltraLenses are capable of both full-immersion and composite imaging, so we already have the best possible display. All we need now is a processor and an interface.

“The processor need only be a microchip, and a multitouch trackpad is the best interface we have. The display is in your eyes and the rest doesn’t have to be any further away. You don’t have to carry anything around. There’s nothing in your pocket. The chip sits underneath the trackpad and the trackpad is…”

Kurt swallowed hard and wondered whether the words he had rehearsed were the best way to deliver the final piece of his puzzle, the piece that would either delight the judges with its ingenuity or disgust them with its recklessness. He searched for support in Professor Walker’s direction but found only bulging eyebrows which suggested that his deliberative pause had lasted longer than he realised.

“So, as I said, the chip sits underneath the trackpad...”

He swallowed again and found himself falling into a familiar pattern. Professor Walker silently shouted the word “speak” and Kurt managed to choke it out.

“… and the trackpad is the palm of your hand.”

The crowd, previously leaning forward as one, sat back in shock. Kurt looked only at Amos, who began to pensively itch his nose. Kurt was sure he could see a grin trying to escape.

“We need a microchip, and we need it under our skin.”

The grin broke free.

“We calibrate our right hand’s fingers to our new palm-based trackpad and that’s it. The display is in our eyes, the chip is in our hand and the trackpad
is
our hand. There’s nothing else. We
are
the device. Gesturing on your palm will bring up the operating system on your Lenses, exactly like you were looking at a smartphone or a tablet’s screen. It can take up as little or as much of your visual real estate as you like, at whatever level of transparency you desire. Think of the chip as the computer that it is and you’ll realise what all of this means. The chip does everything that your existing devices can do and so much more. Your chip will function as your ID, your credit card, your keys. And it’s not like a barcode scanner or something that has to be lined up perfectly — just hold it against your car and the door opens.

“Someone earlier on suggested a security system. The thing is, we don’t need to play any games or press any invisible buttons in a special order.” The man who had pitched the magic keypad looked offended. “Don’t look at me like that,” Kurt continued, “your idea was better than the rest. At least you were asking good questions... there’s no shame in being wrong about the right things. But all you need to do is fit a scanner in your door handle and it will open when an authorised hand touches it.

“The potential uses are limited only by our imagination. The first smartphones seemed amazing, and think of all the apps that have been developed since then that we already take for granted! It’s infinitely easier to develop for this chip than a smartphone and the display is of infinitely higher quality. Developers can play with location and movement in the same way that they do when working on smartphone apps but with the added bonus of complete visual input.

“Every complaint you’ve heard about the Lenses will become irrelevant. Users will be able to reply to messages and respond to status updates directly. You’ll be able to zoom and capture snapshots with your fingers. The Lenses can’t record sound but how many people still use their phones for talking? For those who do, a small wireless headset will enable voice-calling until a better audio solution is found, which won’t be long. Some of the glasses on the market use bone conduction but I know Sycamore can do better than that.

“There’s never been anything like this system and nothing will ever be the same. Sycamore knew that we didn’t need special glasses and now we know that we don’t need a shiny new device. And as I said, the chip is no bigger than a few grains of rice. It can be injected without anaesthesia.

“Eliminating handheld devices will also save untold energy and natural resources. No more devices with obsolescence built-in means no more wasted rare metals. The chip has strong green credentials.

“A lot of powerful interests will stand in our way: the phone networks and manufacturers, the credit card companies, the people who make cables and fix electronics. Whether we press ahead depends purely on whether we want to let them win.”

Amos was nodding. Kurt felt like he almost had him.

“This, right now, is a moment in time. Think for a second about social networks and smartphones. They exploded at the same time, and not by chance. Suddenly a lot of people had a reason to be online 24/7 and suddenly they had a device that let them be online wherever they were. Now, equally suddenly, the best display ever devised has been joined by the ultimate in portable computing. Sycamore’s serendipitous moment is now, and by supporting this chip Sycamore can have the advantage of owning both parts of the puzzle. Imagine if Steve Jobs had invented facebook or Mark Zuckerberg had come up with the iPhone.” Kurt, again, made a point of looking at Amos. “That can be you.”

Kurt clasped his hands and bowed to the audience to signal the end of his pitch. The polite applause he had expected was quickly consumed by a rapturous standing ovation in which Amos keenly participated. Kurt centred himself then brought a finger to his lips to silence the crowd. They obliged and retook their seats, leaving him standing messiah-like under the spotlight and the rapt attention of everyone present.