A Future We'd Like to See 1.9 - 293 Channels By Twoflower (Copyright 1993) The big day! B-Day! THE day! The one big really important incredibly amazing wonderful day was here! I had been waiting quite awhile, too. Saving a few dozen credits out of my weekly paycheck. Cutting corners here, sacrificing frills here. Finally, I had enough money, and merely had to go down to the showroom and BUY it. I opened my sliding glass door as the burly workmen pulled it into my den on huge, rusty carts. Box after box was pulled into the room, giving me a slight flashback to my days in school, learning about the construction of the pyramids on ancient Terra. Although I'd much rather have this than a few thousand stone blocks any day. "Alright, got the stuff in. Where'dya want it set up?" the workman said, wiping his brow with yesterday's fashions, now today's rags. "Just set it up along that side of the room." The workers unpacked the two towering, well, towers of equipment and placed them on either side of the space I had pointed to. Projectors and speakers and all sorts of imagery devices (no, not metaphors) were unpacked and stacked in an organized manner. "That should be it," the workman said. "You're now the proud owner of the latest on HoloVision technology, capable of throwing life-size--" "Yes, yes, I know, I've had the sales brochure blown up to wall size and hung in my room as a poster. Where's the remote?" "Right here," he said, taking it out of the now-empty crate. "You got yer selection of 293 local and cable holochannels, plus the quadrophonic digital music system. Collision detection and solidification is installed as well, and you can scale the image to any size you want, room permitting. Plus there's the new immersion--" "Great!" I said, fishing in my wallet. "Here. Have a fifty-cred tip." Actually, prices being what they are, this isn't THAT impressive. This setup had run me about 20,000 credits. A simple 2000 credit 12-cubic inch box HV wasn't good enough for ME. "Alrighty. Here's the store's number if you have any trouble with your new equipment. Have a nice temporal period, 'kay?" "Righty-O," I saluted, as the two workmen pushed the carts out of the house and off to their cargo ship. I closed the glass door, then grinned like a maniac to nobody in particular. I had been preparing the room for about a month. The popcorn would be within five inch reach of my armrest. I'd be using my best recliner, the one normally only used for guests, with only two Shoogar-Adye stains. I'd have a full gallon of said sugary drink on the left, with crazy straws assembled so I wouldn't have to lift a finger to have a slurp. Reason for this being that the remote would be in my left hand. 293 channels! Sports! News! Educational documentaries! Action! Suspense! Disjointed sentences! You can find it all on HoloVision. With this new gear, I'd be seeing it as it was meant to be seen - up close, full sized and PERSONAL. I could walk into the frame if I wanted to, or make the objects solid so I could toss popcorn at a bad comic and have it ACTUALLY bounce off. I could upscale the image to fill the room. I could even put an exercise bike in the center and switch to the Bike Path Channel, and be able to ride for hours through the scenic forests of HappiWerld, the rainy streets of C'atel, or the Grand Canyon on Terra. HV was almost a religious experience for me. Chanting a silent prayer to whatever gods of savings accounts that exist, I turned on the set. Well, channel 2 isn't very mind-blowing. Radar map of the local weather. The 3-D clouds are a nice touch, but this is as fun as watching linoleum tile curl. CLIK "In other news today, loveable wacky President Doofman was seen once again scaling the walls of the White House in disguise last night. After making a quick guest appearance at the Very Loud Small Cramped Nightclub, Secret Service agents led the playful prez away for a good night's rest..." Wow! Connie Rathjennings in my living room. You could see the desk, her, the 2-D screen hanging in the air next to her, and everything. I wonder if it's true, about newscasters not wearing anything from the waist down. Normally, one couldn't tell without this sort of equipment... naah, finding out would mean getting up from my chair. No thank you. CLIK "Swing us about! Go to half impulse and charge blasters!" "She canna take any more, Kaptin! If we go to half impulse, she'll--" "You have your orders, Mr. Snot. See that they are carried out!" WOOO! Lookit the Interplaq go! Blast those aliens to bits! The Starfleet flagship filled up half the 'screen' of the HV, making wild maneuvers as the starscape shifted to change viewpoints. Here come the aliens... aaaand--- KABLAM! Quadrophonic surround sound explosions are terrific! Alas, I've seen this one, and there are other channels to go on to... CLIK WHAP! POW! KASPROING! Cartoons, life sized! Cartoons have really improved now that 3-D computer modelers are used. The old 2-D ones just don't cut it with the HV technology, it's like watching a painting that moves. Bah. This cartoon's not that great, though... the dog-and-cat pair just haven't been the same since the network booted their creator off the show. Humph. Ungrateful censoring scum. CLIK "So, like, dude, whaddya think of Brenda?" Oh boy! It's the popular teen drama, C'atel City, 13080. Gripping drama with a group of kids living in the real world, in the heart of the music scene. "Well, I dunno," the teen's unwashed pal said, picking at something under his fingernail. "She's cool 'n all, but kinda annoying, yaknow?" Truly inspiring dialogue, but alas, other channels beckon. CLI... hmmm. Now this is interesting. Big red button marked Channel 294. Must be a new feature installed while I was saving up for this rig. Looks like fun. Might as well give it a shot... it's just HoloVision. If it sucks, I change channels. CLIK! YAAH! Where'd my den go? Who replaced my house with a grimy city square in the dead of midnight? Well, I still have my chair and food. "I suppose you're wondering where you are," said a Yttian figure from behind me. "Geez! Don't sneak up on people like that. Yeah, where the heck am--" "Welcome to Channel 294, a miracle breakthrough in HoloVision technology," he continued, walking around to the front of my chair. "Well, that's nice, but where's my den--" "A technique of Holo which antiquates any channels seen before!" "Hello, you can hear me, can't you?" "Total immersion technology! The ability to put the viewer directly into the image with such accuracy that it is indistinguishable from reality!" "You can't hear me, can you. What, are you deaf?" "And we present our first presentation on Channel 294 : The Unforgivables. Based on the real life exploits of Elliot N'ykk, Yttian Federal Agent." I ignored the monologue; I've got more important things to worry about. CLIK. CLIK. CLIK. Why isn't this thing turning off? I want my den back. Ah-- tires. Someone's driving this way. Maybe they could explain this. "I say! You in the car! Could you stop for a minute and--" The car rolled to a stop, barely five inches in front of the chair. I grumbled incoherently, stood up, and walked around to the passenger window to give these guys a piece of my mind. "Roll down your window! You've got a lot to explain, bus...ter..." The window rolled down, and an automatic blaster popped out, aimed more or less at my nose. "EAT BLASTERFIRE, COPPER!" shouted the Yttian gunman. I dived for cover, purple electricity flaring out inches above me at the police station the car had parked in front of. Illegally, I might add. Several policemen who were standing nearby dived for cover, and returned fire. Everywhere, blaster bolts zinged out, causing major explosions across the road. I tried crawling to safety, but was pinned. The car roared off into the night, blaster fire ceasing. I gave a sigh of relief, picked myself off the ground, and turned to the policemen. "Thanks for helping me out, guys," I said. "Do I need to try and identify them in a mugshot or som--" Both policemen exploded like exploding policemen as another, identical car roared around the corner, pitching grenades. Pretty well armed for thugs... oh dear, they're coming this way... I've got to run, to get away from here, to find my den... I broke into a dead run in a direction that was hopefully away from the gangsters when reality cracked around me, crystal patterns coated in blood red. * "Where is he, ma'am?" "He's down here, bottom floor... I originally called you fellows to complain about the noise, all that shooting and screaming and explosions--" "It's alright, ma'am. We at the police station are thankful. Boy, this guy's a mess... coroner!" "Yeah?" "What HAPPENED to this guy?" "I'm not sure. Looks like he decided to run as fast as possible into a sliding glass door. Ugh, what a mess." "Was it a suicide?" "Doesn't look like it. He had his arms out, as if he was trying to run away from something. Maybe something on this HV setup he has scared him, or something." Pause. "Naaah. It's just HV. Well, get the poor guy a toe tag and take him down to the morgue, we'll try to get in touch with his next of kin." You know, it is true. Too much HV can be bad for you.