“Okay. I’m ready.”
Dennis was handed the VR headset - an Oculus 2 if he remembered its precise name. But the make and model of the headset was hardly the priority as he clenched his sweaty palms into fists.
“I put this part behind my neck, right?” Dennis asked, to be gifted a nod of affirmation. “Okay.”
Seconds later, Dennis had donned the headset and found himself staring directly at a menu akin to that of an old NES game. The graphics certainly looked the part, but he knew better than to diss such software. Especially when so much rode squarely on the shoulders of this mission.
“Mission One” Dennis said with a smile. “Let’s go.”
His heart pounded like a sprinter’s as the interface in front of him was replaced by the image of a small plane, akin to a Cessna or similar model. The first-person view Dennis was swiftly greeted with looked like a Nintendo 64 title’s - Star Fox , perhaps?
Unlike in the space-shooter game beloved by furries the world over, there was no enemy fire here. The flight simulator was more akin to what would be expected with general aviation. You weren’t piloting the plane through a warzone; these were strictly civilian skies.
“Speed up” a disembodied, semi-robotic voice from the game warned Dennis.
In response, Dennis thrust his right fist forward like a real pilot jamming on the “gas pedal.” He scrunched up his face, which was already covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, and watched as his N64 Cessna sped forward.
Of course, there was no such thing as complacency in the sky. Even in cruise control, one had to appreciate that so many minutiae went into piloting a plane. You could only do it with the right tools, but the right attitude was also necessary. Too little focus could mean disaster, not just for yourself, but also for your passengers.
Eventually, words started appearing on the screen. They were toward the bottom of Dennis’ field of vision, meaning that he had to tilt his head downward to focus on them. Not only was this disorienting, but it was also nauseating. And it was even worse than that, because he also had to follow the audio commands that barked out orders every once in a while.
“Up, up!” the voice announced.
“I’m hitting up!” Dennis exclaimed, flapping his right arm like a bird. This was the sort of habit most people were advised to avoid, but in the context of this game, things were very different.
“Up, down! Left, right! Speed up! Slow down! Drop altitude!”
Those commands were not necessarily barked in the order listed above. After a while, it all started to blend together for Dennis. That is, until the robot voice spoke more calmly: “Time to land the plane.”
In the “distance” on the screen, there sat an aircraft carrier floating in the middle of the ocean. Dennis’ heart thumped further as he realized the gravity of this task. If he didn’t land the plane, he would fail, and he didn’t plan on failing.
And so, sweat now cascading down his forehead like a waterfall, Dennis followed every command the screen gave him. He grew increasingly dizzy from casting his gaze downward every ten seconds, then returning it upward to hear the vocal commands. And they were coming a lot more frequently now, to the point where it was all a blur.
The screen shifted to a two-dimensional view of the plane and aircraft carrier, and here the graphics resembled an NES title’s once again. The plane was shown descending toward the vessel, and for a few brief, wonderful moments, Dennis was convinced he’d succeeded. He allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation.
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But then he noticed that the 2D plane was moving too fast, and it soon skidded off the aircraft carrier’s runway and crash-landed in the ocean.
“Ass!” Dennis yelled. “Fuck!”
“It is poor pilot’s etiquette to use profanity in the air” the disembodied voice replied. “If you wish to try again, watch your mouth.”
Dennis grumbled a bit, then pursed his lips. He would watch his mouth, as it were.
Although he’d failed his first mission, Dennis was still permitted to proceed to the second mission. Per the on-screen instructions, the objective here was to refuel the plane in midair. Was that even possible with a Cessna in real life?
Nonetheless, Dennis forged onward. For a while, the second mission went just as “swimmingly” as the first had. He was able to follow all the instructions as they came, complying with both the auditory and visual cues to gain or drop altitude when necessary.
It was when the plane reached cruising altitude, around thirteen thousand feet, that the unexpected happened.
Dragons flew in front of the screen, including a giant orange dragon carrying a mailbag. Dennis’ stomach dropped like a stone - this wasn’t the sort of roller coaster he wanted to ride.
Dennis gasped, but he did not let his focus waver. He maneuvered his virtual Cessna to skirt around the dragons, but soon there were other types of creatures as well!
“What’s going on?” the disembodied voice asked. “Why did you gasp?”
Dennis did not respond at first, so focused was he on steering the small plane away from the Onix, Psyduck, and Chikorita that appeared in midair. Wait, where did I come up with those names again?
Come to think of it, the scene resembled a stage from that old fighting game that endured in competitive play to this day. Wasn’t it called Melee or something?
“I’m in Poké Floats!” Dennis bellowed.
“No, you’re not” the robot voice muttered.
“I am! There’s Pokémon all around me!”
In response, the screen faded to black, though red block letters were soon plastered across the virtual canvas: MISSION FAILED - BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!
“What?” Dennis wondered aloud. “I don’t understand.”
“Take off your headset, and we’ll discuss this” the robot voice muttered.
Dennis did as he was told, and then came face-to-face with his instructor, Floyd McCord. McCord had, of course, been the source of the voice during the game Dennis was playing.
“You need some water,” McCord told his student. “You must be hot and dehydrated.”
Dennis was indeed sweating profusely, but he didn’t realize how thirsty he’d been until he accepted a water bottle from his instructor and started chugging it down. “Thanks” he sighed.
“Now, the hard stuff” McCord muttered. “You must have been hallucinating. You said you were in Poké Floats or something like that?”
“Yes” Dennis said simply. “It’s a video game level.”
“Well, that doesn’t exist. Prior to your permit test today, we meticulously checked all the code in the virtual training exercise - there’s no such level as Poké Floats. It shouldn’t be possible to go there.”
“But there were Pokémon ” Dennis mouthed, much like a child might reminisce on something they missed from their previous hometown.
McCord glared at his student. “Because you seemed to be hallucinating, we cut short your permit test. You have failed this time. You can come back a week or more from today if you wish to try again, but you may only take the test six times in a twelve-month period.”
“Yeah, I’ll be back” Dennis sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t let anyone down but yourself.”
Well, I really did let myself down. But that’s a topic for another conversation.
“I’m going to be honest with you, though” McCord continued. “You seemed a bit…spacey during your test. Are you certain that flight school is for you? If not, there’s no shame in choosing a different career path.”
“This is where I’m meant to be” Dennis insisted.
In reality, Dennis wasn’t sure how much he believed that. After all, his chief dream in life had been to become a train conductor, a dream circumstances beyond his control had forced him to abandon. Then again, flying a plane was very different from pulling a railroad car along its tracks.
“Then make it so” McCord muttered. The instructor’s tone was one Dennis had grown all too familiar with. I’m not mad; just disappointed.
“Noted. I’ll be back next week” Dennis told his instructor. “I’ll try again.”
As he left the flight school, Dennis didn’t think today could get any more bizarre. His instructor had insisted that the code wasn’t glitched, but the student didn’t buy it. Dennis would be well within his right to assume that this was where the oddities ended for today.
He was wrong.