“Sure,” I yell back, thankful to get away from the awkward social setting. “Invite me.”
His frail arms gesture in the air, and I see him selecting a few options. He disappears, but seconds later an icon appears in front of me, alerting me to a chat room invitation from one of my accepted contacts.
Actually, Xen is my only contact.
000101
I select the icon and agree to the invitation. The club falls out of view like a two-dimensional curtain, fracturing into a more pixelated version of itself as it drops. Behind the curtain is the virtual chat room, which becomes more defined as the club dissolves. The circular room is made of nothing but stars twinkling in space. The only solid ground is a floor made of multicolored pillows, like some sort of sultan's harem. Xen's monk avatar is sitting in the middle of the room, leaning back and relaxing with a wooden mug in his hand. Steam and smoke pour out of the mug like dry ice. He takes a long gulping pull off the drink, wipes his mouth, and then exhales loudly.
“I have been looking all over for you,” he says, motioning toward the pillows on the floor. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“I'm fine,” I say, awkwardly folding my legs underneath me as I sit.
“School got out nearly four hours ago. What have you been doing this whole time?”
My mouth opens, and I'm about to answer his question, when he stops me.
“Wait. Don't tell me. DotFun.”
I shrug.
“That place is pointless. You realize that right?”
“And DotSoc is-”
“A place to interact with humanity,” he finishes for me. “Omniversalism teaches us that social interaction is what binds humanity together.”
“I'm interacting. I just use guns instead of music.”
“I interact with a different kind of humanity. Perhaps even a different quality.”
I'm annoyed by his judgment and roll my eyes. “All I see is quantity, not quality.”
“They are all people, each with their own unique attributes to offer the world.”
It's more of his spiritual nonsense.
“Why not interact with people more like you?” I ask honestly, even though the tone of my voice makes it sound like I'm mocking him.
“And where would I find them?”
“DotGod is full of people like you.”
“Like me? Omniversalism teaches acceptance and understanding in order to foster peace, even in times of disagreement. DotGod is more violent than DotFun.”
I laugh. “Come on. The whole domain is non-PvP.”
“That does not stop people from arguing. I do not need that kind of interaction. Omniversalism teaches us-”
“Come on,” I say, cutting off his preaching. “Just admit that you'd rather listen to your favorite musicians than spend time in an actual church.”
“Experiencing music makes me feel closer to God.”
“Whatever,” I say with a laugh, wiping my hand in the air to discard the conversation. “You wanted me here, and I'm here. So tell me what you wanted to tell me.”
Xen smiles, his thin lips revealing the tiny set of teeth underneath. “I have met a girl.”
I sit up straight. “Seriously? That's your big news? You meet girls every night.”
“No, no, no. Not like this. This is different. I met her at a concert last night. Enchanted Saliva were playing at their own dedicated venue. The singer actually designed the place. It was amazing. Jungle themed, which I will admit is overdone, but it had this sparkle to everything. Even the air. It made it feel... ethereal.”
I give him a look.
He smiles. “That is what Raev called it. But she was right. It was the perfect word.”
“Raev?”
“That's her name,” he says, his eyes drifting off into space as he recollects the night, trying to find the right words to express himself. “She was dancing, but she was not using the default movements. She programmed this articulation to her avatar that I could not take my eyes off of. And she was on this lily pad that was floating in this white water... like milk or something. But magical.”
“Magic milk?”
“Exactly. I stopped watching the band and watched her. I sat down in this super thick grass that had all these blinking fireflies swarming around me, and finally Raev noticed me staring at her-”
“Smooth.”
“-and she smiled at me. And you know me. It is easy for me to talk to anyone. Girls included.”
My voice is droll and monotone as I mumble, “I'm so happy for you. Really.”
“But I sat there,” he continues, as if he didn't hear me, “like I was still a little boy who gets sweaty and shaky when he gets around anything shaped like a pretty girl.”
“And that worked for you?”
His eyes get big, and he looks even more excited when he says, “Exactly. That is exactly my point. It absolutely worked for me. That is how I knew that Raev was different. She came over, and she talked to me, and she had no idea who I was. She was not impressed by any of my posturing or posing, but yet she was still impressed. No. Wait. Impressed is the wrong word.” He scratches his chin as he ponders his own vocabulary. Then he smiles when the word pops into his head. “She was intrigued. And Omniversalism teaches us to present ourselves in a way that is true and honest and... all the things that I was when I was with her.”
“So you're telling me that you acted creepy and she didn't run away? This is what you're excited about?”
“Exactly. If that is not love, then what is?”
I laugh as I ask, “Love? You seriously believe in that?”
“Is there a reason that I should not believe in love?”
“Because it's real world nonsense. That's why.”
“No. You are wrong, but I do understand why you would say that. I used to think that too,” Xen says, with a condescending smile like I'm a confused child. “I used to think of the real world and NextWorld as two different places that exist next to each other. Which is not the case. Raev explained it to me, and probably better than I can, but... The real world is out there.” He waves his hand, pointing in no real direction. “But NextWorld... it is in here.” He taps his head. “And in here.” He pats his chest. “The real world is external, and NextWorld is internal. Does that makes sense?”
I try to decide if he's joking or not. “Okay, Xen. Let's pretend everything you said isn't annoyingly poetic. What does any of that have to do with love?”
Xen's smile grows bigger as he says, “Everything. It has everything to do with love. Omniversalism teaches us that love is inside us... And that is where NextWorld resides.”
I continue to stare.
“That makes it even more important, Kade. Love is even more important in NextWorld. And possibly even more powerful.”
I rub my eyes, groaning loudly.
“Did you really expect me to sit here and listen to this?”
“Honestly? No.”
“Then why did you invite me here?”
“Because I was hoping our friendship might mean something to you.”
“Oh great. Guilt.”
Xen smiles with that knowing look in his eyes. “Do you think there might be a reason you feel guilty?”
“Why do I suddenly feel like I'm laying on a therapist's couch in DotMed?”
Xen keeps a content look on his face, but his eyes won't lie. They're designed too realistically for that. He's disappointed in my attitude, with maybe a hint of anger. But he stays in the middle, always halfway between everything.
“Look, Xen, I'm happy for you. I really am. But I don't need to agree with every new philosophy you grab onto.”
“I'm not asking you to.”
“Then what are you asking me to do?”
Xen takes another deep pull off his mug, then exhales steam from his nostrils like he took a long drag from a cigar. He sets the mug down and folds his hands on his lap like he's about to meditate.
“I would like you to come with
me. To a concert. On Saturday night. I want you to meet Raev.”
I exhale, but it comes out as a groan.
“What?” he says, with a snap.
“No. Nothing. I mean... who is the band?”
“Does it matter?”
“You're right. It doesn't.”
“Kade, I am being serious. I need this. I need you to do this. I need you to be a friend.”
The guilt trip is twisting inside me.
“Xen, this isn't fair.”
“Fair?”
“Yes, fair. What you're doing right now. It isn't fair.”
“What do you think I am doing?”
“You're-”
“I am asking you to be there for me. To meet this girl that I think I might love. That I know I love.”
“Why? Why do you want this?”
He pauses, considering his reply, so I answer for him.
“You're testing me, aren't you? Is this a test?”
“A test?”
“A test of my friendship.”
“No. Omniversalism teaches us that if something is real, it does not need to be tested, or proved. It simply needs to be.”
“Right. Look, I know I haven't been... the best friend to you lately...”
“I would hate to admit that is true. But I never see you anymore. This week I have only seen you at DotEdu, and we are not allowed to talk in class.”
“I know.”
“So come with me.”
My brain is moving too slowly. I can't think of a viable reason to get out of going. I'm struggling, until I realize I can turn his guilt back on him.
“When was the last time you came to DotFun with me?”
“When was the last time you asked?”
“That's not fair. I stopped asking because it became pointless to try.”
His eyes shift back and forth as he tries to read me. My avatar is impeccable. I've spent way too much of my free time adding every detail I can to my face, which becomes a problem when I'm trying to hide something. He calls my bluff.
“Fine, Kade. Tomorrow night. I will meet you in DotFun after school, and we can play whatever you want. Then you can come with me to the concert on Saturday.”
“Um...”
“Great,” he says, clapping his frail hands together, the tiny sound of the impact snaps inside the chat room. “It's a deal.”
“Yeah. I mean-”
“This will be fun. I am looking forward to it.”
I try a last ditch effort to turn him off from the whole plan by saying, “I'm going to want to play DangerWar. It's violent. Really, really violent.”
Xen shrugs and says, “I would not expect anything else. I think that Omniversalism makes exceptions on virtual violence when someone is trying to reconnect with an old friend. I will have to balance out my actions. I have a personal meditation room that I can-”
“Yeah. Of course you do.”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
I stand up from my chair and open an information window, checking the time. I've wasted too many gaming minutes. I barely have enough time to shop and reload my inventory before I have to sleep. Class starts far too early.
I say goodbye to Xen, who is nothing but smiles. In fact, he's giddy. He tries to tell me how much I'm going to love Raev, and how we're going to hit it off immediately and become best friends. He starts going into detail about the musicians she likes, the news-casts she follows, and her favorite video-casts, but I act like I'm receiving a message from my father, and I have to log out of the chat room. The last thing I see is him excitedly waving goodbye to me.
I spend the entire drive back to DotFun trying to come up with an excuse for Saturday. Nothing I think of seems believable, so I buy some plastic explosives, enough ammunition to kill a small nation, and curse my luck before disconnecting from my E-Womb. I fill up on vitapaste and crawl under the coarse blanket that covers my single bed. I try to sleep, but like every night, the train rumbles past every fifteen minutes, waking me from my already restless sleep.
000110
Out of the central domains that make up the core of NextWorld, DotEdu is by far the most boring. It looks like a dull, gray facility that has no decorative design and only exists for a utilitarian function. It's also the smallest domain in NextWorld, at least on the exterior. The single building exists on a perfectly manicured lawn, with a NextWorld flag floating near the doorway. But this tiny exterior is only an illusion, housing millions of classrooms inside.
You can see the punishing despair on the faces of the students entering DotEdu. They may be laughing, talking, and chatting with friends in different windows, until they reach the gates of the domain. Iron beams connect two brick supports, with a sign hanging from the bars that reads: LEARN TODAY, FOR TOMORROW. The motto was voted on by the entire NextWorld community, and only barely beat: EDUCATION IS EXCITING.
As soon as you pass through the gate, your avatar is instantly transported into your scheduled classroom, and you're unable to log out until either your class ends or an authorized teacher grants you access to your own E-Womb controls, much like the warden of a prison.
Like every other student, I cringe when my wheel passes through the gate and the small schoolhouse blinks away from my view. When my vision reappears, I only see the dull, tan-colored walls of my first period class. My avatar changes to a default MALE-01 form, complete with a nondescript school uniform. Other students sit in desks around me, waiting for the bell to ring. The few empty desks fill up with other plain avatars, and soon enough our teacher appears at the front of the room.
She's an NPC, and it shows. Her face looks lifeless, and her eyes are always staring straight forward. Her hair never moves. It looks more like one solid object than separate fibers. Her movements are stiff and robotic, programmed to appear natural by someone who apparently has no idea how humans actually move. Her voice puts emphasis in all the wrong places, making listening to her lectures a prolonged act of torture.
I hit the mute button and let the subtitles drift onto my notes, leaning back and letting my mind drift. I want to open a second window and check the rankings of DangerWar, but DotEdu has my display locked down. I can only see one thing, and she's boring.
I don't think the boredom would bother me quite so much if I didn't constantly imagine what else DotEdu could be doing with the NextWorld interface. Here we are, sitting in a boring classroom designed to look like something from the last century of the real world, when we could be experiencing any number of things first hand. We could be traveling through a virtual representation of a human body for biology class, or watching historic battles happen from a virtual battlefield, or applying mathematics to physical actions, instead of hearing an unenthusiastic teacher tell us about these things as if we were still stuck in the real world. The limited imagination of the designers frustrates me to the point of anger. Someone gave them an endless amount of clay, and they decided to roll it into a ball. Brilliant.
I sit through six hours of “learning” before the bell sounds. Avatars teleport out of the room before the last chime, and I follow suit. My wheel is screaming down the super-highway, pushing my baud rate to its extreme with the thought of algebra and ancient civics only a fading memory. The congestion around DotFun looks bad, and I consider logging out completely to let my avatar respawn in front of DangerWar, but it feels like too much work to face the cold of reality, so I open windows around me, checking my system for anything to distract me during the drive.
During class I received more messages from my father. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I open the first message.
“I wish you would stop acting like such a spoiled brat and reply to me. You owe me that much, at least. We don't have to be friends, but do me this one favor. I need this job.”
I feel my blood pressure rise, and I close the message without reading the rest of it. I swipe my hand across his three messages, deleting them all with one gesture. Sometimes I wish kids my age were allowed t
o block their parents. It would make life a lot less stressful. I remind myself that I only need to wait a few more years. Then I'll finally be an independent citizen in the real world and NextWorld. I'll only have to worry about my own actions. Like a true solo player.
I check the DangerWar scoreboard, and I see my name has dropped ten ranks, which causes a moment of slight panic. I take all of the uncomfortable emotions I'm feeling and turn them forward, letting them push me into a dedication for the game that I can channel all weekend.
I skim through a few news-casts while I wait for the onslaught of kids who've been released from DotEdu to funnel through the DotFun gates, but as I'm about to close the window, I receive a multimedia message.
The blinking tag tells me that the sender has marked it urgent, but the name of the sender is a series of numbers. It's no one from my contact list, and I can't understand how it got through my filter. The fact that it's multimedia usually denotes a commercial message, something someone spent a lot of time on, with video, music, and text all wrapping into what marketers like to call a “Message Experience.” My logic tells me that I should delete the thing right away, for fear of some ad-ware bogging down my bandwidth even more, or even worse, a hacker bypassing my security, but my boredom beats out my common sense. I touch the message and let the window open directly in front of me.
A velvet blackness streams out of the window, breaking the barrier and wrapping around me like a tunnel of ink. The music builds from the center, surrounding my head as the drumbeat reaches a crescendo and bursts into a deep bassline that I can feel in my chest.
“Congratulations,” a voice says in a peaceful tone, yet with a dramatic excitement that doesn't need to be shouted. “We are proud to announce your acceptance into the private beta test of NextWorld's most exciting new gaming experience.”
Large letters made from rusted metal stream out from the center, and spin around each other until they finally form a title.
DANGERWAR 2
Bullets shatter against the words like they're being sprayed from an assault rifle. The letters retain their shape, even with the smoldering bullet holes. The announcer's voice becomes energetic as it recites the name. The music explodes, reaching its peak only to twinkle away into nothingness as the tunnel of black flashes a bright white and disappears. All that remains is the title, floating in front of my face as I still sit in the center of my wheel, waiting in the queue to enter DotFun.
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