section7mfu | Spring Round Robin - The You Don't Have A Partner Affair chapter 9

In 1965, the world began its journey into a fantastic new era of computer generated vistas when Ivan Sutherland, an American computer scientist and Harvard associate professor, wrote a paper titled Augmented Reality: The Ultimate Display. It was the beginning of what we know today as Virtual Reality.

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Napoleon cavorted under the sheets with his blonde wife, a distraction he often indulged while his partner continued to take care of world saving business. Today was no exception, or so it seemed.

While Solo struggled with the nagging suspicions that things weren’t quite right, Illya was proactively resisting the mind bending environment into which he had been involuntarily thrust.

Kuryakin could compartmentalize his experiences. It was a gift, albeit at times, a hindrance to establishing the deeper kinds of relationships he truly longed for. His mind worked at things, untying knots and digging down deep into situations, problems, anything that disrupted his sense of equalibrium.

At the moment, his equilibrium was definitely out of balance.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Kuryakin was recalling articles he had read in some scientific journals; he had a vague memory of seeing a man in a strange headset of some sort, the object being to transmit images that would make a person feel as though he were part of that image.

As the fake Waverly enthused over a new man who would be partner to Kuryakin, the Russian was estimating the probability that THRUSH had somehow hijacked and perfected the science of Augmented Reality.

That had to be it, no other explanation would be sufficient to his questions. Illya had to continue to resist, and he wondered, in the midst of whatever he was experiencing, if anyone else could see what he saw now.

“Nyet.” He said it aloud, causing Angelique to turn off her own little virtual reality that she was sharing with Napoleon. Why had Kuryakin spoken aloud?

She approached one of the technicians.

“Can you tell what he’s doing in there? I didn’t think they usually talked back.” The technician shrugged his shoulders. He was unsure about most of this set up, the Dabree dame was a scary person and he was fine with just following orders.

“Sorry, I doubt it has any real meaning. He’s just saying no to someone in … in… “ Knowing anything about this business was way above his pay grade.

Angelique understood, and it would do not good to try and get anything meaningful from this fellow. Dabree was a brilliant woman, but she didn’t always like to share information if it might mean another person could benefit from her work. It was highly unlikely she would have explained very much to a lowly THRUSH technician.

“Fine, I didn’t really expect you to know. It’s just, well… sort of curious is all.”

She left Kuryakin's room, and upon entering the other experimental chamber, moved closer to the bed where Napoleon was enjoying another round of love making with the wife he didn’t remember. There might yet be answers to his questions if he could just get her to open up and … He laughed out loud at his own pun. It was enough to make Angelique dismiss what Illya had said. Apparently these two were deep in it.

Illya opened up a chamber of his mind and brought up the paper he had read recently; it was written by a scientist and Harvard professor name Ivan Sutherland. The topic had been fascinating to Illya, and as he lay in the bed, seemingly engaged in the suggested scenario (in which he would tell all concerning the various codes and identities requested by the faux Waverly), the Russian was utilizing a memory so keen it was considered eidetic, or photographic. The Sutherland paper spoke of a new, false reality that could be generated through the use of computers. That had to be it, and he knew instinctively that he was wearing one of the headsets that Sutherland had demonstrated.

Illya willed himself to come out of the induced state of hallucination. He had no doubt that Napoleon was also being controlled by whatever this contraption was. No doubt THRUSH had included drugs in their use of the technology, a detail that might make getting completely free of it a little more difficult. The trick would be to look as though he were still under the spell of this augmented reality, while he was actually fighting it. His suspicions were on high alert.

Napoleon Solo loved women, he loved making love to them and he was addicted, more than he liked to admit, to the ecstasy of sex. He wasn’t indiscriminate, as Illya often accused him of being, but rather he admitted to being self-indulgent where sex was concerned, somewhat of an expert on the act and art of it.

The art was missing in his current, shall we say, endeavors. There was a degree of pleasure, certainly his partner (the wife, apparently), was enthusiastic enough. That was generally the case, although he knew that something was missing, as though he were more the observer than the participant.

Bam! That’s how he knew it wasn’t real. But how could it not be real? What was going on and how was he supposed to get out of whatever sort of hallucination he was experiencing?

And where was his partner, because as sure as he knew his name was Napoleon Solo, he knew he had a partner and that his name was Illya Kuryakin.

Even in the dream state in which Illya was now engaged, the Russian was calculating the means by which he might break free completely. Years of training by both the Soviets and UNCLE were a safeguard against mind control or psychotropics, at least to a degree. As he was dismissed from his meeting with the other Waverly, a deft move on Illya’s part considering the plan seemed to be for him to part with valuable information, he used the time to further evaluate the situation.

There was no doubt in the mental compartment in which he was carrying on this disengagement from what he now understood to be an augmented reality, that THRUSH had somehow taken the fledgling technology of Sutherland’s paper and turned it into an actual reality.

What Illya needed to do was thwart the effects being directed at him to keep the deception going; he must use his mind to block out the THRUSH tactic and regain control. He must wake up.

Having gone back to the room in which Napoleon was ‘sleeping’, Angelique realized that, although she might be willing to sacrifice this man, it would be a personal loss. Keeping Napoleon under the spell of this new reality would be her first choice, if it could be allowed. As for Kuryakin, he was deeply embedded in his false scenario, she could see it on his face; that determination to obey and succeed. She knew him only too well, he would be only too eager to cooperate.

As Angelique mistook Kuryakin’s expression for compliance, he was extricating himself from the device and its effect. Little by little he withdrew from the falsehoods, walked backwards as he viewed the dissipation of Waverly’s office, the fading faces of people who did not exist. With no signs of his exodus in the monitors that were intended to alert the technicians to changes or anomalies, Illya Kuryakin willed himself to awaken from the dream.

He opened one eye. No one hovered over him. He opened both eyes now, surveying the room, taking note that there was only one man, over in a corner of the room where he appeared to be reading a chart. It was, no doubt, Illya’s chart. If all went as he intended, the final entry would be of his escape.

There was something on his head. That must be the apparatus that controlled the dream state. He had a patch of some sort on his chest, probably to monitor his heart. Illya realized now that he was naked beneath the sheet; that seemed to be a constant reality where THRUSH was concerned. No matter, he would simply borrow some clothes from the technician; in a matter of minutes the man wouldn’t be needing them.

With practiced stealth, Illya began to extricate himself from the head gear, the wires and patches that connected him to a machine he now reasoned was the brain that dictated the alternate, or augmented reality. He would need to examine that concept more closely… another day. For now he would simply get out of bed.

The technician realized too late that his subject was not only free, Kuryakin was delivering a karate chop that left him senseless. When he was eventually discovered in a small closet, there was no memory of the Russian’s approach, only the dread he experienced before being plunged into darkness.

Illya donned the man’s clothing, grateful for a lab coat that created the disguise he needed in order to wander the halls, find Napoleon and free him from whatever strange dream was controlling his subconscious. After poking his head in various rooms, none of which gave him a clue to his partner’s location, Illya finally saw something that made him want to shoot someone… a very particular someone.

Angelique.

He spat out her name under his breath. It wouldn’t do to actually engage with the woman. It shouldn’t have surprised him that she was involved, and yet he did believe she had some sort of affection for his friend. If she was involved in this then her loyalty to THRUSH was now firmly established as of more importance to her than was Napoleon. In that reality, he reasoned, there would be ample justification for killing her, if necessary.

Obviously, Napoleon was in the room from which she had emerged. All that was necessary now was to get to him, and then get out.

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***For more on Augmented Reality

Spring Round Robin - The You Don't Have A Partner Affair chapter 9

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