Software - Scenario 2015

My crew’s been doing all the programming. In fact, even before the automated bulldozers broke ground, we had simulated the main exhibits. Standardized software tools, open systems and an online library of modules helped development and testing to move even faster than our project optimization plan had predicted. And much of the software walk-through, interactive environments possible—actually wrote itself based on demonstrations recorded by industrial robots using 3D-x vision.

But, as I say, History and Culture is Carnadine’s baby, and as soon as his scheduling program surmised that we were getting close to completing our work, he wanted to experience that section. Agreeing to make believe we were just visitors, we picked up haptic gloves and a couple of standard head mounted display (HMD) units from a lobby dispenser, gave each other a thumbs up as all systems chirped confirmation of being networked with our personal communicators and the Center’s database, and followed a bright yellow augmented reality carpet displayed in the HMDs to Carnadine’s favorite section—19th Dynasty Ancient Egypt.

As we entered the most magnificent of all the burial chambers, I was delighted to see through my HMD that it now appeared to be populated with period artifacts ranging from ointment bowls to sculptures of Horus and Anubis and beautifully painted hieroglyphs on the walls. But besides a likely reproduction of the tomb and mummy of Queen Nefertari—Ramses II’s principal wife circa 1290 BC—I knew that there were actually very few physical objects in the chamber.

"You can touch these objects, pick them up and look inside them using the haps and your HMD. Your movements, the position of your head—everything is, as you can see, seamlessly networked," I explained. "I see," said Carnadine, gingerly picking up a priceless virtual vase and peering inside it. "Remarkable! Even the viscera appear to be intact! How far can you take this…"

"First let me show you something even more exciting," I interjected, indicating that we should focus our communicators on the mummy. An image of the sarcophagus appeared in their displays with the question: Open Dialogue? The communicators signaled that they were now in contact with each other and could share mutually interesting information. Both of us said "Yes" into the HMDs’ microphones. And an instant later, the mummy, now in the form of a lovely young woman, stood before us.

"Wow!" exclaimed Carnadine. "And I suppose it—I mean, she—is interactive?" "She is indeed," I answered. "What we’re looking at is a real-time simulated embodiment of all digitally available information about her. It’s simply a question of translating the semantic information in vetted databases into corresponding visual, audio and haptic elements, and projecting those elements into the HMDs so that it overlaps the physical environment with extreme spatial accuracy."

"You mean I could… touch her?" inquired Carnadine. "Absolutely, the haps will let you feel her clothing, or you could even perform a virtual examination—whatever. It’s very realistic. You’ll note," I went on, "that the menus on our communicators now suggest a number of possible interactions, including multimedia downloads. We’ll even be able to hold a conference call with her from other locations. It’s as if she had given us her private number."

"Can I address her normally?" Carnadine asked. "Of course," I said, noting that he had not taken his eyes off of her since she had appeared. "Nefertari? Nofretiri? Which is your proper name?" he asked her. "I am Nefertari, beloved of the goddess Mut, Great King’s Wife, Hereditary Princess of the Two Lands, Most Beautiful of Them," she responded in a delicate and enticing voice through the HMDs’ speakers.

"Professor, are you all right?" I asked, somewhat concerned by a look of apparent disorientation that had spread across his face. "Oh, I guess so," he said, reluctantly removing the HMD. "It’s just that she looked and sounded exactly like an old flame—someone I knew a long, long time ago," he said. "It seems ‘The Center for Living Memory’ will be a very appropriate name for this place."

Arthur F. Pease