On the Set
Science // Fiction, Basis e.V.
Frankfurt, Mai 2015
X1o5: „Hey George, you have to come tonight! New place, new crowd we’ll send you the coordinates over encryp- ted flash glances don‘t miss out! We’re counting on you!“
Lines rushing by, but a saturated massage prints trough, attracting George‘s focus in a hypnotic way. Memories comes with it, activating his desire to not just remember, but to revive the grotesque moments of bizarre ghost love. He has to be there. Has to find the glance to not miss the right time and place. A sudden shiver goes from his head down, spreading with a cold flush of fear, but stops before reaching his toes.
7uB*: „No! Don‘t leave space for that. Focus! Grab your stuff, prepare your equipment. We need your loaded camera and your dragon eye on the set!“
Slowly rising from his workstation, he disconnects his neck with an expression of disgust. Like little bugs running under his skin, he feels his physical body connecting its nerve ends back to his brain again. Such a sad feeling to be back in this powerless body -- but hey -- won‘t be for long. He tumbles over to his treasure box, which spills a bit of warm loving feeling into his cold gray and somewhat unfamiliar flesh-shell. A hoe-shaped graphene structure connected through various joints, holding all sorts of buttons, films, chips and sensors, sees the light as he opens the box. On a closer look, you could see each graphene fiber in itself being a sensing electronic. Scanning with nervous
reflections not its physical surroundings, but hacking into streams of brainwaves that carry emotions and feelings of the ones virtually connected to George himself and from there on even able to daisy chain hundreds of people.
It was his invention -- a machine to collect and merge the emotions experienced in a virtual moment. Converting a collective three-dimensional experience into frozen two-dimensional frames. A sort of abstract image emerges from the machine, cloudy with brushes of color imbedded in black. Every person in the picture melts when looking at it from outside. Starting from the eyes as the memories touch the retina, pumping back the sight nerves into the brain and from there straight to the heart.
An odor of naked skin is pulling his eyes, letting them drift beside the box into a printed image. A refreshing breeze of sweet sudor accompanied by humming sound of a cheering, gasping audience. The light shines as bright and hot as if walking on the sun. The air jiggling with the heat, distracting him from where to go. Where is the crowd? Where is he? In the image or on the set? He moves his right arm down to his belly where the attached camera cuts into his naked skin, to open up his body, feeling the moment even on deeper levels of his virtual nerve system.
He is right in the scene standing only centimeters away from a group of mutated bodies swallowing and spitting each other out in ecstasy. The gasping voices of the many spectators all around them compresses the heat into the center of the stage. George‘s vision lags as he tries to orientate himself.
...(click here to read the full story)