Tag: 2*

The Three Descents of Jeremy Baker by Roger Zelazny

Posted on by Paul Fraser

The Three Descents of Jeremy Baker by Roger Zelazny (F&SF, July 1995) begins with the Raven, a spaceship whose crew includes Jeremy Baker, coming out of “extracurricular space” when its Warton-Purg drive fails. This failure occurs in the vicinity of a black hole, so the tidal forces soon destroy the ship, and Barton is the only one to survive (he happened to be testing his EVA suit at the time).
The rest of the longer first chapter has him drift towards the black hole where he then encounters an energy being called Nik:

“Who—What are you?” Jeremy asked.
“I’m a Fleep,” came the answer. “I’m that flickering patch of light you were wondering about a while back.”
“You live around here?”
“I have for a long while, Jeremy. It’s easy if you’re an energy being with a lot of psi powers.”
“That’s how we’re conversing?”
“Yes. I installed a telepathic function in your mind while I had you unconscious.”
“Why aren’t I being stretched into miles of spaghetti right now?”
“I created an antigravity field between you and the black hole. They cancel.”
“Why’d you help me?”
“It’s good to have someone new to talk to. Sometimes I get bored with my fellow Fleep.”  p. 311 (Year’s Best SF, edited by David Hartwell)

Nik goes on to tell Jeremy that the Fleep are conducting experiments on the black hole with the aim of reversing time. Then, after modifying Jeremy somewhat, Nik sends him back to before the destruction of the Raven, where Jeremy attempts to rescue the ship but fails.
Another Fleep called Vik sends him back for yet another go, but this also fails, and the chapter closes with Jeremy contemplating his doom.
The second section has Jeremy inside the black hole with Nik discussing various singularity related matters (information loss, energy conservation, etc.).
The third section then has them end up in a “cornucopia”—an information store created by Nik—after the black hole explodes. Nik creates a visual library metaphor for all the information that is inside the cornucopia, and they and the other books begin to get acquainted.
This gets off to a pretty good start—the breezy, flip style is entertaining— but the middle and ending morphs into pseudo-scientific musing about the properties of black holes.
** (Average). 2,400 words.

Baby, You Were Great by Kate Wilhelm

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Baby, you Were Great by Kate Wilhelm (Orbit #2, 1967) opens with John Lewisohn going to an audition studio where his partner, Herb Javits, is auditioning actresses. Lewisohn (the passive viewpoint character of the piece) dons a VR helmet and watches the first audition, which starts with a young woman alone in a room:

She took a hesitant step toward the couch, and a wire showed trailing behind her. It was attached to her head. At the same time a second door opened. A young man ran inside, slamming the door behind him; he looked wild and frantic. The girl registered surprise, mounting nervousness; she felt behind her for the door handle, found it and tried to open the door again. It was locked. John could hear nothing that was being said in the room; he only felt the girl’s reaction to the unexpected interruption. The wild-eyed man was approaching her, his hands slashing through the air, his eyes darting glances all about them constantly. Suddenly he pounced on her and pulled her to him, kissing her face and neck roughly. She seemed paralyzed with fear for several seconds, then there was something else, a bland nothing kind of feeling that accompanied boredom sometimes, or too-complete self-assurance. As the man’s hands fastened on her blouse in the back and ripped it, she threw her arms about him, her face showing passion that was not felt anywhere in her mind or in her blood.
“Cut!” Herb Javits said quietly.  p. 20

They subsequently audition a few more women until they get one who provides the emotional output they require for their virtual reality productions (this is why the lead is attached to their heads). After this set-up scene, the two men then discuss the problems they are having with the current star of their VR reality show, Anne Beaumont.
The rest of the piece involves the men flying out to meet Beaumont and, as they interact, we see Javits’ manipulative behaviour. When she threatens to quit, we learn that Javits has been paying the current love of her life to perform that role. We also discover that they have been recording her life and emotions on a 24 hour basis for the last month or so.
The story closes with Lewisohn scuttling back to his room to experience her feed, which underlines his role in the story as a passive observer, similar to that of Anne Beaumont’s fans, or the reader of this story.
This is a little on the dull side to be honest, and a rather too earnest examination of media power dynamics and the possible downsides of new technology. I also thought that Javits’ character was a little over-egged (yes, even after Weinstien).
There were a number of stories like this in the seventies (which is why perhaps it didn’t grab me), and they generally took a dystopian view of people being “plugged in” for extended periods of time. But if your quality of life is poor due to your physical health, poverty, age, or even a lack of imagination, what would be so bad about living a vicarious life? Isn’t that one of the reasons we read?
** (Average)