Read The Sensory Deception for Free Online Page A

fever because it is infected.”
    “Our goals are twofold,” Farley resumed. “Nature-based virtual reality experiences will make people sensitive, viscerally sensitive, to their role in Earth’s ecosystem, and this is the key to building solutions to humanity’s greatest problems. Second, our product will generate both a volunteer network and a great deal of money. Money is important. Money wins cultural and political battles. It’s far more effective to buy people’s interests than to try to alter their actions.”
    “You don’t have any business experience.” Gloria tried to sound skeptical but it came out more like advice. “Most companies like yours fail within a year, and those that survive have one thing in common: a sustaining, overwhelming desire to succeed.”
    From across the room, Ringo interjected, “We have that.”
    “Good, but you’ll have to be convincing. You want to change the world. I understand. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what I experienced in there.” She sighed. “But that’s not what makes a business succeed.”
    Chopper turned to her, his eyes slits. “Then you tell us, holder of capital. Tell us what makes businesses succeed. Be honest. Use the word
greed
.”
    “Greed plays a role,” she said. She could see that Chopper was the heart of this team, the passionate lead guitarist. His temperament was necessary for their success, but could just as easily destroy them. It boiled down to his allegiance to Farley. She looked at each of them again. Farley was the front man of this band, the singer, and Ringo set the tempo, the bass line and percussion. There was something missing. They lacked rhythm, a day-to-day business rhythm.
    “Entrepreneurs who make it through the bad times—and there will be more bad times than good by the time you eithersurrender or succeed—are compelled to win for the sole reason that they love to win and hate to lose. You want to change the world.” She tried to sound cynical. “I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”
    Farley grinned. He looked as though he were laughing inside. “Gloria, we’re not quitters. We have the will to win. We’re fighters, not tweedy academics, and we’re not PETA activists. We are veterans of the environmental movement, but we’re not radical.” Then he laughed that booming laugh of his. “I eat meat. Chopper smokes cigarettes!”
    Serious again, he said, “We’re ambitious professionals and we want to make money. A lot of money. Does it matter whether we want money to pay for lavish lifestyles or to finance what we believe in? Trust me, we’re going to win.” He leaned forward until his eyes were level with hers. “Gloria, I want you to help us.”
    Good answer. That was it. It was easy to believe in this man. It was easy to relax on that suede couch, too. Easy to slip into Chopper’s blues riffs, easy to sip some more of the red juice of aged grapes. She could think about the details later. Right now she had that exhausted but upset feeling that you get after a good cry, the teary resolution that puts you to sleep as surely as a melancholy lullaby.

    Farley couldn’t read Gloria right now. She was too out of it. Virtual reality exhausts the brain faster than actual reality because it dilates the user’s time scale. Sleep is the natural response. With her head nestled between two couch cushions, she snored quietly.
    Farley shook the cushion. Gloria closed her mouth for a second but then sank deeper into the couch and resumed snoring.
    “Gloria,” Farley said. Then louder, “Gloria.”
    She didn’t move.
    “Dude, she sleeps like the dead,” Ringo said. “What do we do?”
    Chopper chuckled.
    “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Farley said. “VCs don’t work weekends, do they?” He put his hand on her shoulder and shook her.
    Her eyes popped open for an instant and she said, “Yeah, I’m coming.” But then they shut again and she snuggled herself still deeper between the cushions.
    Farley looked at