The Fighter Pilot's Journal

No one particularly likes going in for treatment. There is something about giving one’s body over to the medical technicians that feels wrong. I know they are helping us, but it’s somewhat like leaving home. I feel safe in this body. The program they hook us up to is like a vacation, I suppose, but what if you’re happy where you are? What if you like being home?

The Virtual Reality program doesn’t actually take us out of our body, it’s just that when you’re hooked up to the programming…you can’t physically feel it anymore. It’s as if you become untethered. I’m certain it’s unnerving for most, especially their first time. However, for me the experience was more than that.

I lay on the soft bed in the hospital gown they’d given me. I was scared, but the technician gave me a sedative and I relaxed. Before I knew it, I found myself on a white sandy beach. The air was cool as it caressed my warm skin. I was sunbathing in a bikini. I turned my head to the right and spotted a charming little cabana, complete with coconut trees, tropical flowering plants, and a table set with a pitcher of refreshing lemonade. It was just what I asked for. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The bright sunlight shown through my eyelids casting my vision with a warm red glow.

Day One

I’ve walked the entire island. It is small, but not so small that you can see across to the other side. The middle rises in elevation. It is rocky and full of palm and coconut trees. There are little crabs that sidestep across my path. The flowers are my favorite. I could spend hours just admiring the details.

I went for a swim. It is odd that I have to hold my breath, for I know that I’m not really underwater. The tropical fish are glorious with their colors and different styles of fins. I saw a sea turtle as well. I was nearly close enough to touch it.

The fire pit is comforting at night. I love watching the flames and how they dance and travel along the chunks of wood. I watched until the glowing red embers went out.

Day Two

It is quiet here. Apart from the gentle waves, the occasional birdsong, and the sound that the wind makes as it rustles the palm leaves, there is nothing. The weather has been steady and calm. I am enjoying the emptiness more than I’d thought I would. Being alone feels freeing. It is just me and my thoughts.

I’m not sure how I have already become bored of this place. It’s been such a short time. Or at least I think so. I’m not certain if time goes by slower or faster in here. But that doesn’t matter. The fact is, I’ve seen everything on the island and I feel ready for something new.

Day Three

This morning I awoke to strange noises. At first, I thought it was the sounds of the city, but then I remembered where I was. I looked out of my cabana window and saw something odd. A large extension had been added to my island overnight. It is none other than a landing strip. I could see buildings too. The sounds I was hearing were fighter planes up in the sky. I don’t understand it. I didn’t ask for this. I wanted a relaxing beach. This is…something else.

I found a dress to cover my body and walked toward the military buildings. The strangest thing was this sense that I had been there before. Even the army jeeps were familiar. As I approached, I could see men in uniform. I watched them from behind a tree. Many planes landed. I knew when they were gassing up, though I’m not sure how. I never learned about planes or the war or anything like it. I was too afraid to go any closer.

Day Four

It is surprising how real the program feels. I find myself forgetting I’m in it. My hands and skin are exactly as I remember them. The only way I know it’s not real is that my body doesn’t hurt. I feel young again. I wonder if I’ll feel this way after my treatment is finished.

I went swimming again. A feeling of absolute dread came over me when I’d gone a certain distance from the shore. It was further than before. I turned back immediately and felt glad for the sand under my feet. The thought of being carried away into the open ocean on a current sparks fear in my heart.

The planes continue to land and take off. No one has ventured over to my little cabana. I’m sure they can see it from where they are, so they must not care. Of course, they aren’t even real people. They are just computer simulations. I have to remind myself often.

Day Five

Today everything changed. I woke up and found myself sleeping in the sand next to soldiers. It was clearly a camp. I was completely baffled and startled, but even more than that, was the sudden realization that I was no longer a woman. I stared at my hands and arms and my legs for a long time. When the other soldiers called me Sam, I went along with it. They didn’t seem to notice anything strange about me.

I tried everything I could to sneak away from camp. I wanted nothing to do with their troop and their crappy rations and constant talk of airplanes, but I was pulled along with them when they went to the military buildings. That was when they got me into a fighter plane. At first, I protested. I told them I didn’t know how to fly. They just laughed. Oddly enough once I was in the cockpit, however, I felt at ease. I think I do know how to operate it.

Day Six

I’ve been flying for the last twenty-four hours. I can’t even express the thrill of it! I would have thought I’d be too scared to do something like this. It comes naturally to me. The levers, buttons, and even the communications are second nature. All I want to do anymore is fly.

Day Seven

We’ve been ordered to fly towards a nearby island base. We will stage there for a battle. Our main objective is to protect an air craft carrier from enemy ships. I haven’t used the guns yet, but I have to say I’m looking forward to it.

Day Eight

We’ve lost nearly half of our men. I can’t even recall the reason we are at war. All I know is that it’s not looking good for us. But I’m not afraid. I carry on with a strong conviction and sense of duty to protect what matters. The people back home. If I don’t give it my all, they will be the one’s who suffer. We all know this. It’s what keeps us going.

Day Nine

I shouldn’t be alive. My plane was shot and the engine was smoking heavily. I sent my mayday communication and did my best to steer the plane as it began to plummet towards the ocean. When it crashed, I thought I would die. But I didn’t. The plane floated long enough for me to climb out of the cockpit. I was even able to sit atop it for a little while. The battle ship and the air craft carrier were too far to even consider swimming to. I had to confront my deepest fear. Floating, helpless, in the wide ocean.

Day Ten

Shark! I’ve been attacked by a shark! It nudged me first, which sent me into a wild panic. Then, it grabbed my by my side and pulled me under for a bit. Ah! The Pain! At first it was just a horrible clamping pressure and I knew I would die. Then, the shark released me. It swam away. But I was left with puncture wounds. The salt water stung so badly I nearly passed out.

Day Eleven

I’m not sure how I’m still alive. I have made it to an island covered in trees. There is no beach and the ground is fairly steep. What I wouldn’t give for some relief. I am all alone here and I know I’ll die. The strange thing is, I am not afraid of the point when I pass away. It’s all that goes before that. It’s the pain and suffering. I know it will not be quick and easy. It will take days. I’m afraid. I would give anything for some company.

Day Twelve

It was at some point this day when I remembered my relaxing white sandy beach. That was when it all came back to me. I’m inside a program that is exceedingly real. I’m not a man and I have not been attacked by a shark. I was not just flying a fighter plane. I am in a hospital for treatment. I was supposed to be enjoying myself.

I am awake!

The medical technician told me that my treatment is complete. I didn’t care. I began questioning her about the programming. I told her about the fear and the pain. She frowned at me and shook her head.

“No, I set your program myself,” she assured me. “It was a tropical island paradise you wanted. Correct?”

“Yes ma’am,” I agreed, “but it changed. It became a nightmare. I was in a war!”

Once again, she frowned and looked at me as if I were crazy.

“That’s not possible,” she said.

I sighed, exasperated. Why would she think I’d make it up?

“I’m telling you, it changed from what you set it at. Hasn’t anyone else said something similar? I can’t be the only one.”

She seemed to think, then.

“You know,” she said, “some patients do come out of it saying that they were surprised. I suppose there is something going on there…but it’s not the program. VR isn’t prescient. It’s impossible for it to create anything past what it’s been set to. If anything, it’s your subconscious mind interfering. Remember, you are partly in a dream state.”

“But then…then,” I stammer, “You could be trapping people inside nightmares! Shouldn’t there be warnings?”

“Hmmm,” she murmured. “You may have a point. Look, I’ll alert my superiors. Okay?”

“Good,” I said nodding, as she removed my IV line. I winced. I was pleased that she was taking me seriously. “Oh, and how did my treatment go?”

“Uneventful,” the technician told me with a smile. “Oh, except,” she added, “there were some irregularities in your abdomen.”

“Irregularities?” I asked, concerned.

“Yes, you had little lesions on your intestines and other organs. It was unusual, but the physician was able to cauterize them. You’ll have no trouble from them now.”

“Lesions?” I repeated. “Where exactly?”

She shrugged, saying, “I’ll show you the diagram.”

The technician finished by raising me up to a seated position on the bed, so I could stand up. I felt dizzy for only a moment. She pulled the bin with my belongings out from under the bed and set it upon a nearby stool. I had only to get dressed and I was free to go. Before she left me to do so, she turned on a computer screen on the wall and an image appeared.

I stood there alone for a long time, staring at the illustration. It was a simple outline of a body and its organs, but had been marked with red scribbles. The physician had marked the location of the lesions. The marks made an irregular arc from my hip, to my naval, and back again to my rib cage.

It was the exact shape and size of a shark bite.