Augmented Reality by Victor Appleton (ink book reader TXT) 📗

your screen. If he’d been sloppier, the beast might’ve just looked like a goofy cartoon.

As the beast moved closer, more detail came into focus. This wasn’t your typical reptilian monster like a giant dinosaur or Godzilla. Noah had designed a cyborg. One of the creature’s meaty arms had been replaced with a robotic appendage with a buzz saw at the end; electricity rippled over the metal blades running down its back, and one of its eyes was a red laser. You could see its thin beam sweep the area as the beast turned its head.

With the beast’s next shuddering step, a cartoon barrel flew into frame, arcing toward the creature. Someone had launched one of their collected food items.

“Aw, too soon,” Noah said. “They have to wait until it gets closer.”

Noah had programmed the game with semirealistic physics. That meant the beast had to be close enough for the launched food to actually reach its mouth. Nevertheless, there was always someone who jumped the gun.

My phone trembled with more powerful vibrations as the beast stomped closer. In just a few more steps it would loom over the school.

“Now!” Noah shouted.

I tapped the app’s big red Launch button and one of my items shot into frame. A cartoon turkey leg tumbled through the air toward the beast’s open mouth. On my screen, I could see other items hurtling on the same trajectory. As my turkey leg entered the creature’s mouth, points were added to my score. I kept tapping until all of my collected loot had disappeared down the creature’s gullet.

In no time, the streams of cartoon food slowed and then stopped as everyone ran through their inventory. The beast let out a large belch (my phone really vibrated on that one) and then continued toward the school.

Noah shook his head. “Yeah, I didn’t think that would be enough.”

The creature brought down its buzz-saw arm on the roof, and sparks flew as a chunk of the school fell away. Noah had done such a great job with the animation that I caught myself glancing past my phone to make sure that the school was still intact.

Noah turned to me and grinned. “Wait until you see what I added for this one.”

I turned my attention back to the screen and spotted four tiny figures stepping out onto the roof. Even though they were cartoon versions, I recognized their uniforms and gear immediately. The four original Ghostbusters readied their proton packs and blasted the beast with four gyrating orange streams of light.

“Cool,” I said with a laugh. I heard other students join in around me.

Not so cool for the cartoon Ghostbusters, though. The beast reached down with its flesh hand and scooped them up, then popped them into its mouth in one fluid motion. More laughter and a few gasps echoed around us.

“Amy helped me with the animation on that one,” Noah explained.

The rest of the animation continued as it had before: the beast sliced, punched, smashed, and stomped at the building until there was nothing left. Then it turned and slowly ambled back the way it had come.

As the crowd began to disperse, the high score flashed across the screen. Evan Wittman had successfully collected and launched the most food items—again.

3

The Culinary Calamity

THAT EVENING AFTER I FINISHED my homework, I tested yet another augmented reality invention. Okay, it wasn’t a cool app like Noah’s. Not that kind of augmented reality. Instead, I was going to cook dinner—virtually. Using robot arms I’d built in robotics class and the body of one of our early battlebots, I’d created a kind of virtual chef that I could operate remotely.

My creation was just a prototype, so it didn’t look pretty. Picture a gear-covered stick man mounted to the top of an automated vacuum cleaner. A large pipe rose out of its mobile base with a camera mounted at the top. Just below the camera, I’d fitted two shorter pipes perpendicularly and attached my robotic arms to the end of each. The entire thing was covered in gears, pulleys, and belts that enabled the arms to move and gave them leverage.

I wanted to surprise my dad with my latest creation, but I didn’t know how I was going to do it since it took a while to assemble in the kitchen. Luckily, he’d been working in his home office since we got home.

Since my mother died a few years ago, my father has tried to be two parents in one and limit work to the office, but running a high-tech company like Swift Enterprises doesn’t always allow him to do that. Sometimes, he has to bring work home. Tonight’s session had given me time to set up my big unveiling.

I heard Dad’s home office door open and footsteps coming down the stairs. “Something smells good,” he said. “Thanks for cooking tonight. It’s a tremendous help…” His voice trailed off as he saw me standing in the middle of the living room.

See, my father knew that if I was cooking dinner, it would be just one thing, pancakes—pretty much the only thing I like to cook. What he didn’t expect was to see me doing it from another part of the house. The camera transmitted the scene from the kitchen to my special glasses. I was using the controllers from my augmented reality game to operate the robot arms.

“I thought you were cooking dinner,” Dad said.

“I am,” I replied without looking at him. “Go check it out.”

He edged around me and made his way to the kitchen. I carefully flipped one of the pancakes before rotating the robot ninety degrees. The camera transmitted the image of my father standing in the kitchen doorway. I slowly waved the robot arm, the one holding the spatula with its claw.

A grin stretched across Dad’s face. “Hey, that’s nice.”

“Thanks,” I replied, turning the robot back to face the griddle.

Now I don’t know if it was the urge to show off in front of my dad, or if I