Ethan sighed and turned back to study the hexagons for some clue as to what he was supposed to do next. There had to be something he was missing. What was the rectangle supposed to represent anyway? He had no idea. The line next to it was pointing off toward the top of a spire to his right. There didn’t seem to be anything special there. Wait… maybe the rectangle represented a door! The line was pointing at where it was hidden. The puzzle wasn’t just a key. It was also the guide to the door it unlocked!
“Huh, clever,” the adventurer remarked as he turned to study the spire of rock that the last line pointed at.
He didn’t see anything out of place, so he walked closer and raised a hand. A spike shot out of his wrist device and slammed into the top of the twisted stone spire. There was a line of wire hanging down from the spike, and it immediately began to shorten as the device on Ethan’s wrist reeled it in. With a quick hop, Ethan began to climb the face of the spire. He jumped from outcrop to outcrop as his lifeline pulled him upward. He only stopped when he saw a small hexagon carved into the rock in front of him. It was tiny and impossible to see from afar.
As he hung in front of the new hexagon, Ethan studied the shape. It wasn’t decorated by any symbols, so he tapped it with a finger experimentally. Instantly, the shape and all the rock around it cracked. A moment later, the entire area crumbled and fell away to reveal a dark shaft that led downward. How inviting!
With energy born of excitement, Ethan activated his flashlight and crawled inside. It looked like it was quite a way to the bottom of the shaft, so he shot a line into the wall and used it to rappel down into the dark. The stone shaft was tight around him as he descended. The weak yellow glow of his armor illuminated its confines, and there wasn’t much to see, so he kept his flashlight pointed straight down. After descending for half a minute, he dropped out of the shaft and into a much larger chamber. As his feet hit the ground, light flashed into existence around him, illuminating his new surroundings.
Shielding his eyes from the unexpected brilliance, Ethan looked around. He was standing in a circular room with walls made from stone blocks. The floor was smooth uncut stone, although it had some cracks in it. In the center of the ceiling hung a huge transparent crystal, which was the source of the light.
As the treasure seeker’s eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to make out more details. There was a single large door leading out of the room on the far side of the chamber. This passageway was much larger than a normal human door. It was easily ten feet high and six feet wide.
“Well, this room is very suspicious,” Ethan said as he looked around. “I wonder what kind of horrible trap it contains.”
Before he had decided on his next move, a loud thump echoed from the shadows beyond the dark doorway across the room. Ethan sighed. “Yep, I was right.”
There was a series of new thumps and another noise that sounded suspiciously like something heavy being dragged across the stone floor. Ethan quickly drew his pistol and took a firing stance. He aimed his weapon right at the door and waited. It didn’t take long for the source of the noise to appear. A reptilian snout emerged from the darkness, and it was swiftly followed by the rest of a huge lizard-like monster. The beast was covered in grey and black scales so large and thick that they looked like armor. Its long tail swept the ground behind it as it focused its yellow eyes on Ethan. Two menacing horns jutted from either side of a thick crest on its skull, and a row of long spikes ran down its back.
Hesitation was for fools. Ethan immediately shot three rounds at the creature’s face, but the beast looked down to shield its eyes, and the bullets ricocheted off its thick skull.
“Crap,” Ethan swore as he weighed his options. It didn’t look like the bullets had done any damage at all. This thing was freakishly tough.
Dashing forward, the beast hissed like a steam engine as it charged. Bereft of other ideas, Ethan emptied the rest of his pistol’s clip into the beast’s legs, but none of his shots did any damage, either because they missed or because they couldn’t penetrate the scales. In this time, the lizard closed most of the distance between them. It was deceptively fast for something so bulky.
“Stupid overpowered monsters!” Ethan swore as he shot a line into the wall to his right. He then activated the reel and jumped. He was instantly pulled out of the way of the charging lizard and toward the wall.
Ethan landed on his feet, let his line fall free, and reloaded his gun in one smooth, practiced motion. The monster skidded to a halt and tried to turn about to face him again.
“You don’t turn too quickly, do you?” Ethan asked as he aimed his gun.
As the beast spun, Ethan shot it in the flank several times. The scales along its belly looked smaller and thinner, and they were apparently weaker because this time his bullets sank into flesh. The lizard hissed with violent fury and swung its head around to block any further attacks. It then righted its body and prepared to charge again. The lizard had been hurt a little, but Ethan could tell the bullets hadn’t done much in the way of real damage. Still, Ethan was confident. He could dodge the creature’s attacks easily enough.
Instead of charging again, the lizard roared and stomped the ground. The monster’s voice echoed throughout the chamber and bounced off the walls. Ethan lost his balance as the entire chamber vibrated, and then he realized the stomp had actually shaken the floor. Ethan’s weapon dropped as he stumbled, and the lizard took advantage of the opportunity. It opened its toothy maw and shot out a gob of purple slime. The blob sailed toward Ethan, who saw it coming. He dropped his pistol and rolled out of the way. Behind him, the spittle hit the floor and stuck to it before collapsing into a puddle. It was some kind of adhesive.
Ethan drew the knife at his side. It slid smoothly out of its sheath to reveal a dark blade, which then clicked and unfolded into a short sword. When it was at its full length, the blade’s edges began glowing a bright yellow to match Ethan’s armor.
The beast charged. As its horns swung toward Ethan’s chest, he dodged to the side and sliced at the creature’s exposed side. His blade cut into the scales, leaving a black line of burnt flesh. However, it was a shallow wound that didn’t appear to slow the lizard at all. It charged past Ethan without stopping. Ethan ran after it and raised his sword, but the lizard’s long tail lashed out and knocked him sideways. He hit the ground hard, despite his armor, and he gasped as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Before he could climb to his feet, the lizard’s head turned and its mouth opened. More purple spittle flew out and hit Ethan’s legs.
“Oh, no.” Ethan cursed as he tried to tug his legs free. This was bad!
Unfortunately, the gunk had already dried. Ethan could do nothing but struggle as the lizard completed its turn and began to charge toward him again. Its jaws opened wide to reveal a row of nasty needlelike teeth. Ethan felt despair. It was like a weight in his stomach. He had lost.
“Blast,” Ethan swore.
As the beast hurtled toward him with open jaws, he couldn’t do anything but close his eyes. He had been so close. Dying like this was pathetic. Helpless, Ethan felt a jarring impact that rattled his bones and then nothing, until a glowing series of words appeared on the back of his eyelids.
Game Over. Would you like to resurrect back at the last respawn point?
CHAPTER 2
THE WAITING WORLD
“No, I would not like to try again.” Ethan cursed again as he swiped at the glowing words before him.
The letters immediately vanished and were replaced by new ones.
Thank you for playing Worldshift!
Those words then dissolved, and the darkness gave way to light. Feeling returned to Ethan’s now completely healed—if somewhat stiff—body. With a sigh, he reached up and removed the visor from his head. It was a small black device that covered his eyes and ears. Most of it was just for show, since the actual VR system connected wirelessly to an implant at the base of his skull. The headset simply boosted the signal and informed anyone
who happened to stumble by that the user was hooked up to the net. It also acted as a safeguard. Removing the helmet would end the interface.
Ethan sighed as he sat up and stretched. The sofa was soft beneath him. “Cranks. I can’t believe I messed that up. That place looked like it contained some epic loot.”
Every time a user died in the Chaotic Plains, they were teleported back to the gate at the entrance, which meant it was impossible to return to the same spot since the plains shifted and moved about. The entire special level was randomly generated. It was why Ethan loved it. There was nothing more exciting than not knowing what lay ahead, even if running through more predictable dungeons usually led to more rewards.
Now that he was offline, Ethan felt his stomach grumble. Players didn’t feel sensations from their real bodies while in a game, but they were still there.
“That’s enough Worldshift for me,” Ethan remarked as he stood. “I need to put something in my stomach.”
His apartment wasn’t very big, so Ethan was out of his room and into the kitchen within seconds. The touch-display screen on his fridge flashed a colorful advertisement for fast food that could be delivered by drone within fifteen minutes, but he ignored it and popped the fridge door open. He then pulled out a protein drink and scoffed it down. Idly, he noticed his fridge was almost empty. That meant he’d probably get a grocery delivery soon. Using data based on past purchases, internet searches, and his credit information, his fridge was set to automatically restock itself. Its owner didn’t need to do anything but give it permission and the occasional bit of feedback.
While he was drinking, Ethan walked into his living room and looked out the window. Rows of modern grey townhouses ran along both sides of the street. Everything was clean and there were manicured lawns and healthy trees in front of every building, but the similarity of the buildings gave everything a drab look. There also wasn’t a single person in sight, although a delivery drone occasionally zoomed by overhead. Still, the warm sunlight coming down from the cloudless, blue sky cheered Ethan up a bit. As he watched, a garage door opened, and a saucer-shaped lawnmower drone rolled out to cut the grass.
The telephone poles lining the road each had cameras on them. The devices were small and discrete, but they could see everything that happened on the street. Not that there was a lot to see. It was mostly machines watching other machines, although they’d been installed so the government could study what people were doing in public and where they went. Officially, they did this so they could better plan government programs. In reality, the cameras were mostly used to find and eliminate unregulated commercial activity. The Bureau of Economic Harmony took its mandate to police dangerous technology and prevent harm through unfair trading seriously. Only licensed corporations could engage in commerce. Even barter between private citizens could land them in trouble.
“I may as well check my prospects,” Ethan muttered sourly as he walked toward his large-screen television. The device was mounted on his wall, and it automatically turned on at his approach.
Ethan sighed as he looked at all the icons on the screen. Reality was annoying. “Techhub. Open email and show items marked as employment.”
Immediately, a list of emails appeared. Several of them were unread, so Ethan pointed at the top one and gestured. It opened, and Ethan began reading.
We regret to inform you that we’re currently not hiring anyone from your educational tier. We do, however, encourage you to try again later or to seek further education levels to increase your prospects.
“I already have a bachelor’s degree from a good school. Why would having higher than that help me in an entry-level sales position?” Ethan muttered darkly.
Getting into graduate programs was incredibly difficult. Admission was competitive. While in college, Ethan had gotten good grades, but he hadn’t been able to muster the effort needed to get the near perfect scores required to get into a graduate school. The rat race had just seemed so destructive and pointless to him. He hadn’t had any connections at the school or in the government who could pull strings for him either. It was an open secret that the well-connected almost always got into the programs they wanted, regardless of their grades.
The next mail was from the local government office of Unity City, which was where Ethan lived. Unsurprisingly, it was also a rejection. It was another open secret that government jobs were practically hereditary these days. Connections were everything. Ethan swiped through the next few replies, but they were all rejections.
Although almost everything else in people’s daily lives was run by predictive algorithms that functioned almost perfectly, jobs were still hard to apply for. Ethan had no doubt that was on purpose. It gave people hope and something to work at, even if the hope was false and the effort was wasted.
He sighed again. “At least I’m not going to starve or have to mooch off relatives. I’ve still got my basic income.”
In accordance with the UETO rules, every citizen in the country was entitled to draw a basic income from the state. Heavy taxes on the almost completely automated economy allowed the government to afford extremely large social programs. Ethan hadn’t had a job since he’d gotten out of school, but he could still afford his apartment. In fact, the majority of people didn’t work, and yet they were able to afford the comforts of modern society. The entire block Ethan lived on was for people on basic income, and it wasn’t a bad place to live.
“Techhub. Show news stream,” Ethan told the smart television. He needed to distract himself from his continued failures. Sigh.
A smiling man in a suit appeared on the screen. He was seated at a desk, talking to the camera. Even though the technology existed to create virtual avatars that were indistinguishable from real people, they were almost never used. Television personalities had managed to hold on to their jobs by applying pressure to the government. Replacing people with virtual personalities had been outlawed, except in a few rare situations. Many prestigious—but not totally necessary—jobs remained for similar reasons. The powerful and the influential had simply made the technology that could replace them illegal.
“Bill J-23B was introduced to congress earlier today,” the man explained in a neutral yet cheerful tone. “It seeks to address the rise in drug use and the resulting surge of overdoses by making health monitoring sensors mandatory in all homes. Several groups have raised privacy concerns, but it is expected to easily gather the necessary votes to pass through the chamber. Already, several congressmen from both major parties have said they support it, as it would also help with the obesity epidemic the country is facing.”
“That has nothing to do with me,” Ethan remarked as he switched through the channels. There were about a dozen national news channels, but they all covered the exact same stories in the exact same way. The powerful people would do what they wanted, and Ethan’s opinion didn’t matter. Sure, he could vote, but it only allowed him to choose between a bunch of politicians who agreed on almost everything anyway.
“There’s nothing interesting on the news anymore.” Ethan sighed. Even the international news was boring. The United Earth Trade Organization controlled almost all the world. Over the years, every stable nation had been absorbed into their organization and accepted their control, so there was no real conflict anymore. Its elite had used the wealth from automation to provide the population with basic income while they kept the power and jobs for themselves. Still, Ethan wasn’t going to complain about prosperity and world peace…
As Ethan sighed and took a moment to think, he happened to stop on a station where a commercial was playing. It featured an Asian woman in a suit standing on a street corner as people walked by. There was a pleasant smile on her face as she spoke to the viewer. “And remember, if you spot disharmonious behavior that isn’t illegal, please do your part and report it to a trusted activist group. All of society needs to be a harmonious space. Letting selfish behavior exist always leads to the most vulnerable among us being hurt.”
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br /> “Harmony is our strength. This message was brought to you by Caring People Against Selfishness, a trusted harmony activist group,” a male voice said as the commercial came to an end.
Ethan made a face as he turned the news off. He wasn’t a huge fan of harmony ads. He knew harmony was important to society. It kept everyone content and prevented violence, but he didn’t like it being shoved in his face. Also, the people who always went on about it tended to be super annoying.
Ethan was tempted to browse the web for more interesting news, but he knew he was unlikely to find anything. Like television, the web was tightly controlled by the corporations that ran the search engines, servers, network infrastructure, and the financial institutions. The Bureau of Economic Harmony shut down everyone who didn’t have a license. They claimed only licensed companies had the resources, connections, and integrity to find the truth and not spread lies. Anyone who tried independent journalism was swiftly reported by harmony activist groups for their selfishness.
Harmony activists were ruthless in routing out disharmony from society. They were also everywhere. You never knew who was one, either online or in the real, and one word from them could get you investigated by the police or blacklisted by concerned corporations. The activist who reported you would then get a reward from the corporations or government for their effort. They might even get a job offer, although that wasn’t a path Ethan wanted to take.
As Ethan considered his options, a cartoon owl appeared on the smart television. It flapped its wings and hooted once before speaking in a goofy masculine voice. “You have fifty-four social media notifications on three platforms. Would you like to look at them?”
The owl was Ethan’s system avatar, and its name was Mr. Featherbottom. He’d chosen it years ago, when he’d been a child. Everybody had one, and they could completely customize it at any time. Most people changed their childhood avatar when they got older—hot babes or sexy men were always popular—but Ethan had stuck with his owl.
Worldshift- Virtual Revolution Page 2
