Farnsworth and Amy emerged from the lab with pleased smiles. "Good news, everyone!" they announced to the people waiting in the lounge.
"I'm finally glad to hear that," said Leela.
"Have you invented something that will help Fry to lead a normal life?" Hermes asked the pair.
"Even better," said the Professor proudly. "Show them, Amy."
As they watched in amazement, the girl in the pink sweatsuit vanished in a puff of ions. Her place was quickly occupied by another Amy, one whose forehead was bound with a leather belt and plastered with electrodes. "Hi, there," she greeted her friends.
"I call it the Holopersona," said Farnsworth. "It will enable Fry to lead a normal life as a hologram."
"Hooray!" said Zoidberg, smacking his claws together.
"How does it work, mon?" inquired Hermes.
"Uh, it uses entangled string theory, or something like that," replied Amy.
"Wrong," said the Professor. "Its operation is based on the principle of quantum thought wave entanglement."
"Give me a break," said Amy sheepishly. "I'm only a grad student."
"If I understand correctly," said Leela, closely examining the device mounted on Amy's head, "then once you put this on Fry, he'll start seeing and hearing things through a holographic copy of himself."
"Seeing, hearing, and feeling," said Farnsworth.
"It's ingenious," remarked Zoidberg. "But how far can the hologram move away from the device?"
"About two kilometers," replied the old scientist. "Any further and the thought signal starts to degrade, stripping the hologram of its intelligence."
"How can you tell when that happens?" Bender chimed in.
"Only two kilometers?" mused Leela. "Isn't that a bit…limiting?"
"Oh my, no," said Farnsworth. "I worked it out. Within a two-kilometer radius of any point in New New York, you can find anything you might possibly need—a hospital, a police station, a movie theatre, a three-star hotel, a pizza joint, a bar, a suicide booth, and at least five Starbucks outlets."
"What about libraries?" Leela pressed him. "What about concert halls?"
"Don't forget," said Farnsworth flippantly, "it's Fry we're talking about."
A tall, chicken-like creature strutted back and forth next to Fry's hospital bed. "Let me reiterate that one more time, son," he said in a casual drawl. "You don't owe me anything—not a single red cent—unless I collect money for you, and I will collect money for you. Any questions?"
Fry blinked once.
"Is that a yes?" asked the chicken man, peering into Fry's busy eyes. The young man blinked again. "Is it regardin' the amount of pain and suffering damages you should expect?" Fry blinked twice. "Is it regardin' my record of successful verdicts and settlements?" He blinked twice again.
It was then that the Planet Express team marched into the room, sporting hopeful smiles. "Good news, Fry," announced Farnsworth. "The Holopersona is ready for action."
The feathered lawyer shot them an irritated glare. "Could you kindly come back at a later time?" he requested. "I'm trying to educate this poor feller about his legal rights, and he's got nothin' but questions, questions, questions."
"You're going about it the hard way," the Professor told him. "Once I strap this device to his head, you'll find it much easier to communicate with him."
"Let me do the honors," said Amy, snatching the wiry object from Farnsworth's hands.
"No, me," said Zoidberg. "My touch is more delicate, it is."
Something tells me that headpiece isn't just decorative, thought Fry, staring at the Holopersona from his prostrate position.
Leela, Hermes, Zoidberg, Bender, Farnsworth, and the chicken lawyer stood to one side and watched breathlessly. Amy hummed a comforting tune as she fastened the belt and electrodes to Fry's temples. Then, with a flourish of her wrist, she flipped the power switch.
My brain hasn't tingled this much since the time I drank 100 cups of coffee, thought Fry.
To the others it appeared that a second Fry was materializing before them, but to Fry it seemed that they were materializing. "Eep," he said, and for a change he heard the noise as it left his mouth.
They gasped in awe at the sight of the flickering holographic man in the red jacket. "How do we know it's really Fry inside that thing?" asked Hermes.
"Ask him a question," said Bender. "Hey, Fry, who's buried in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier?"
"Uh, I don't know," said the holo-Fry.
"Yeah, that's him," said Bender.
Astounded, Fry looked down at what appeared to be his hands. It's some kind of trick, he told himself. This isn't me. The real me is still lying in that stupid bed!
"Now that, I say, that is a wonder to behold," said the chicken lawyer excitedly. "C'mon, boy, let's go sue some deep pockets. Bah-GAW!"
Still confused and uneasy, Fry turned his holographic eyes towards the hospital bed. I can see my own face now, he observed. It's disgusting! It's like I drank five gallons of Slurm and the brain slug on my head won't let me pee!
"Professor," Leela asked the old man, "if I kiss him, will he feel anything?"
"Oh my, yes," replied Farnsworth. "The tactile simulator sends signals to his nerves when…"
He stopped abruptly when the holo-Fry lurched forward, yanking the pillow from under the real Fry's head. To everyone's horror, he laid the soft object over the patient's nose and mouth, and pressed down with all his might…
To be continued
