Death Dream by Ben Bova Page B

fire-engine red as her car. Her windows were up, her air-conditioning on, and still her radio was giving him a headache.
    "Hope she doesn't live on my block," Dan said. Dan jerked a thumb toward the hatchback.
    Jace looked, then turned back to Dan with a puzzled look. "Why not?"
    Grinning, Dan said, "Forget it."
    The traffic crawled along. Dan stared absently at the big Buick in front of him with a driver so tiny her wispy white hair barely came up to the steering wheel. The car bore a bumper sticker, Welcome to Florida. Now go home!
    Jace was strangely silent. Moody. He got that way sometimes, Dan remembered. Most of the time you couldn't shut him up, he talked nonstop and brooked no interruptions. But then he would go quiet and you could hardly get two words out of him. Usually when he had a problem to solve or he was working on some new idea that hadn't gelled yet.
    "You've really made a lot of progress in one year," said Dan.
    "Yeah, but we got a long way to go, kiddo."
    "That baseball game—it's going to be a dream come true for every guy who ever went to a game or bought a baseball card. All those couch potatoes who never got picked when the kids chose up teams. They'll all be able to play with Reggie Jackson and Roger Clemens."
    Jake's lantern-jawed face broke into a wide toothy grin. "And that's just the beginning, Danno. Just the beginning. I been thinkin' about these conflict sims. Got a lot of ideas about 'em."
    That was all it took to break Jace out of his daydream, whatever it was. He started spouting ideas and concepts while Dan laughed inwardly and told himself, it's going to be like old times. It really is. Just like old times.
    Yet a faint tendril of worry nagged at the back of his mind. Jace had to make me play against him. why did he do that? It's as if he had to show me he's the top dog. As if I cared. Damned games are only games. Must be important to him, though. I guess he needs to feel that he can beat me, beat anybody. He needs to feel he's king of the hill.
    He's right about one thing, though. These games are only the beginning. We can do great things with VR.
    "I'll do my symphony orchestra simulation," Dan said.
    Jace huffed at him. "Yeah, sure. There's lots of applications for teaching. Muncrief's had me working on games for the local school half the time."
    "The school Angie's going to?"
    "Watch your driving," Jace said.
    Dan was hardly doing any driving, just inching along the crowded street from one stop sign to the next.
    "What else have you been thinking about?" Dan asked.
    "Besides teaching?" Jace frowned in concentration. "What about microsurgery? We can put the surgeon inside the patient's body and let him see and feel what's going on in there while he's operating."
    "Yeah."
    "And entertainment. we can make a guy dance like—what the hell's that guy's name?"
    "Fred Astaire?"
    "Yeah, the one from those old videos:"
    Dan almost missed the turn onto his own street. He was unfamiliar with the neighborhood and all the bright new houses looked virtually alike to him. But finally he drove the dark blue Honda up onto the driveway and into the cool shadows of the garage. I've got to watch out for rust , he thought as he got out of the car. In this humidity she'll rust out fast if I let it go.
    Susan was in the kitchen, red hair tied up in a bandanna, wearing shorts and a blouse that hung loosely about her hips. Two pots were on the stove, one of them steaming.
    "Jace!" she said, putting down the spoon she was holding to fling her arms around his neck. "How's my oldest child?"
    Jace grinned and hugged her.
    "How about your lord and master?" Dan demanded.
    "Hello, darling." Susan pecked at his lips. "How was your first day?"
    "Not bad," said Dan.
    Glancing up at the wall clock, Susan asked, "It takes forty minutes to get home from the lab?"
    Dan had phoned her just before he left, the way he always had in Dayton. "Traffic's pretty heavy," he said. "I'll have to find some short cuts."
    "I got the