Virtual Reality
J.J. Polson
(5000 words)
Ted yawned as he glanced at his phone. He then shifted his weary gaze to the clock on the bottom corner of his laptop. Finally, his eyes fell upon the digital time displayed in the text box positioned atop his office line.
As always, they were perfectly in sync. And, as always, it was 2:39 PM.
Sighing, Ted glanced at the line of empty soda cans adorning the back corner of his faux-wooden desk. He picked up his empty thermos of coffee, smelling the remnants of what had gotten him through the morning. Of course, it was far too late in the day to refill now. What would everyone else think?
There goes Ted again to the coffee machine. What’s that make three times in one day? How much money does he spend on soda? Doesn’t he know that it’s bad for you? It would be even worse if he grabbed a pack of crackers and a few miniature candy bars. Everyone knew he was putting on more and more weight lately.
Under the guise of stretching his arms, he looked around the desolate space that served as his sole source of income. Sure, it was well lit with gleaming bulbs and rectangular windows, but somehow the office always seemed to unsettle him at its core. Probably because he knew that in the long run it was killing him and everyone else it employed.
Of course, homelessness would kill him far faster. He could hardly stand to talk to clients. How would he fare asking strangers for food on the street corners? Not well. They wouldn’t see a man who left the office in search of freedom – they would see a man begging for money to spend on liquor and whatever other drugs imaginable.
Besides, simply quitting one’s job wasn’t what real people did. If a person quit their job without another in line, something was certainly wrong with them. Such a résumé gap would leave him sleeping on a bench and getting chased off by cops every morning. No one liked a rebel who pushed against the established parameters of society.
As he returned his hands to their station at the keyboard, his phone buzzed. “Not now, Joel,” he moaned upon seeing the name of the sender.
It wasn’t Joel that he was truly mad at. Joel had been his best friend since the seventh grade. But Joel had somehow ended up married and bought a house thirty minutes uptown, and now he was always wanting Ted to drive up there in rush hour traffic to share a few beers. On weekdays, such extensive effort was hardly worth it.
Unsurprisingly, Joel had ended up with what sounded to be a riveting job in application marketing; he had been floating from one good situation to the next his entire life. However, Ted was happy that Joel’s life was the opposite of his own. When they got together at least one of them had something exciting to talk about.
Ted’s phone vibrated loudly against the desk just as his manager walked by. She shot him a passing glance that could have meant anything on her way to the printer. Likely, it had been one of passive disapproval. Upper management had not quite gotten a grip on the fact that their soldiers could do more than one thing at a time.
The phone rumbled again. Dammit, Joel. Ted thought about not answering. Then again, three consecutive messages could have been some sort of emergency. Especially since they were sent so close together.
Well, that was highly unlikely; still, he couldn’t chance it.
Ted opened the messages.
Want to cone up tonight for drinks? I got an opportunity that you want believe.
Come up*
For real though, you’ll won’t to hear about this one. You want believe it.
An opportunity? Then again, it could just be an elaborate ruse to get him to go uptown for some company.
Ted clicked his thin lips in thought before typing a response.
Sure man. See you at 6.
Of course, it was only as he was finally responding that his manager happened to stroll back by with a stack of paper in her hand. He felt her beady eyes travel over the countless soda cans, the empty thermos, and the large headphones perched atop his balding head. Sometimes he wished she would say something to him just so he could finally justify quitting.
He checked the time again. It was 2:44 PM.
*
Ted hated traffic.
Even though he didn’t know how to drive, he could feel the judgmental eyes of the other drivers upon him as they knifed across crowded lanes and darted down side streets. Everyone was in a fruitless race to be the first to get home. Tomorrow the cycle would begin anew with a race to be the first back to work.
After five minutes, Ted decided he trusted the driver not to get him killed and slid his phone from his jacket pocket. Careful to avoid the cracked portion of his screen, he opened his handful of social media and dating apps and sighed inwardly.
Nothing. As usual.
Why did he even bother? He thought it likely that it was how effectively they all pitched the same underlying idea of finding human connection. There was always a small sliver of hope that he would find his true love out of the blue … a very small one. Still, it seemed to happen to other people. Why couldn’t it happen to him?
The news wasn’t much better. Well, according to the headlines anyways; Ted rarely read the articles linked behind the aggregator. It wasn’t for lack of effort, he had just grown tired of not knowing if was being misinformed or pushed to one side or the other. From the headlines, he could at least tell that whatever issue was important. He liked to think that he could form his own opinion. If anyone ever cared to ask, he would have something ready.
Probably.
Ted turned when the driver tapped him on the shoulder. Great, he was going to ask him some pointless question in an attempt to connect. To his surprise, the man just pointed outside. Ted turned and saw that they had arrived at the bar he and Joel always met at.
“Thanks, man,” Ted said without bothering to lift his headphones, not that doing so would have mattered. The driver had taken the chance to respond to a few messages and was already retrieving the information for his next job. Of course, if Ted didn’t say thank you, the driver was likely to rate him below average, citing an impolite passenger.
Ted lowered his headphones around his neck as he neared the bar. The smell of wings and the sounds of a dozen people and twice as many TVs assaulted him the instant he pushed through the wooden door.
Joel waved to him from their usual perch, a raised wooden table in the far corner. As always, Joel was wearing a loose-fitting collared shirt and khakis, his hair short and beard well groomed. For the millionth time, Ted wished he could grow a beard.
“What’s good?” Joel asked as Ted sat down and they exchanged dap.
“Same old,” Ted sighed, pouring a glass from the pitcher already on the table. He thought he felt his phone buzz, checked it, then left it on the table after realizing it was nothing and deciding not to look like an idiot. “So, what’s this … opportunity?”
Joel grinned. “You’re not going to believe this man. This company I’ve been working with has been looking for people like you to help test their product.”
Unlikely. Ted drained his beer and poured another. “You mean people with no life?”
“Exactly,” Joel laughed.
That was hard to believe. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”
Joel leaned in close. “It’s a full immersion VR game. They want players.” He held up his hand to fend off Ted’s instinctive negative response. “They’ll pay you to play.”
“Like a beta-tester?”
“Better. A full time gig. They want you in the game every waking hour. Live on site. All standard living expenses paid. Quit your job, and I’ll drive you over in the morning.”
Ted looked at Joel in shock. A job playing a game? Full immersion virtual reality? That was a dream come true. Ted couldn’t believe it. There was no way. Things like this never happened to him. “Are you … serious?”
“I’ll take that to mean you’re in.”
“Hell yeah.” Ted literally had nothing to lose.
*
4 Months Later – Game Year (GY) 20
The game was better than Ted had ever expected, better than sex. Of course, that was actually only a guess, but he no longer thought about sex. That had to mean something.
When he first arrived, he had logged out to take his meals and sleep, but that ritual had only lasted several days. As soon as an alternative had been offered, he had taken it. Now, the needs of his body were taken care of by an invasive series of tubes. They didn’t bother Ted in the slightest; he had no intentions of ever exiting the game again.
Abandoning the real world was the easiest thing he had ever done.
His breath fogged before him atop the snowy mountain peak. The chill knifed through his chain-link armor, chafing the toned skin beneath. The padded support beneath the steel was wet from the snow, all but frozen over. However, the cold was the last thing on his mind. After months of searching, his party had finally found the elusive white dragon.
He stood in wait with his hands gripping the hilt of his blade, its sterling point buried in the smooth rock beneath the snow.
But it wasn’t just any longsword, it was the best weapon in the entire game. He had spent every coin he had earned since his first day on it. It could kill anything or anyone and would slice through the dragon’s hide like silk.
He had named it Debt.
This was its first test, but it would have many more. Camlaté was full of an endless army of mythical beasts and a variety of extensive treasure-filled dungeons. It wouldn’t be long before Debt had paid for itself a hundred times over.
The others from his party fought the monster below, trying to bait it out of its lair and create an opening for him. The dragon’s roars shook the entire mountainside, growing louder and louder as it became enraged. Jets of fire shot from its cave in rapid succession, sending his teammates diving out of the way in search of cover.
Ted held his ground above, waiting for his chance.
It came a few moments later when one of the players dared a charge. It was easy to tell from the sparkling white armor that it was Naomi. Not to mention that she was the only one bold enough to try such a tactic. Ted admired her fearlessness. If a player died in the game, there was no coming back.
Ted lifted Debt into the air as the dragon revealed itself to snap at Naomi. Smoke poured from the nostrils at the end of its snout, easily the length of two men. There was a flash of its razor-sharp teeth in the instant before it unleashed another burst of fire. Naomi glanced at his position as she used her shield to absorb the damage. Even from a distance, he could see her vibrant brown eyes beneath the visor of her–
The dragon. Right.
Snow funneled around Ted as he leaped from the mountaintop. His plated hands wrapped around the hilt of Debt, its point aimed straight down. It was a variation on the same plan they had used to wound dragons dozens of times before. With Debt, it would only take one well placed blow to the brain to finish the job.
The dragon below was massive; it was far bigger than any Ted had ever fought before, even with its snowy wings folded against its body. He readied himself for impact, positioning himself just over the spiked head of the gigantic beast.
He struck.
At Debt sank in, Ted let go of the hilt and flipped forward, sliding smoothly down the length of the dragon’s snout. He emerged through a lingering cloud of black smoke to see Naomi applauding him sarcastically, helm in the crook of her arm.
“Well done, Theodore,” she said. “You’ve slain the last of the great beasts.”
Ted looked at her in confusion. “The … last?”
Naomi sighed, running a hand through her black hair. “You didn’t read the scroll from your sponsor? It arrived before we left on the hunt.”
Ted shook his head. At first, he had kept up with Joel, but lately he had forgotten all about his friend. His messages had never contained anything important anyways. Besides, Ted didn’t like reminders of the other world.
“Short version then,” she smiled. It was a wonderous sight. “The game is changing, undergoing a massive update. The age of monster quests is at an end. They’re letting in a whole new wave of players and implementing the start of actual civilization.”
“What are we supposed to do then?”
“We’ll have to earn money a different way, but with everything we’ve killed you should have more than enough to start a farm in Agruccino or factory in Newspresso.”
Ted looked at Debt. “Um …”
She followed his gaze and sighed. “I’ll get you a spot on my farm if you want, but don’t think you’ll be getting any preferential treatment just because you’re Theodore the Great. You’ll have to work your way up just like the others.”
*
1 year in – GY 60
Sweat cloaked Ted’s bare chest as he inspected another nameless vegetable before putting it in his large basket. He had been at it for hours.
His spoils from the white dragon hunt had evaporated quickly, spent on a worthless piece of land in Agruccino that turned out to be infertile. He had come to Naomi’s farm in hopes of asking his old friend for help. However, it turned out that by that time she had obtained many farms and was always away on business in the capital.
At first, Ted had worked under the assumption that he could move up the ladder, but that proven not to be the case. The farm’s manager, a thin man named Frederick, had found out that he was an original player and charged him with a long list of crimes to prevent him from ever ranking up or leaving. There hadn’t even been a hearing.
Just like that, Ted had become a prisoner.
He had written a letter to Naomi, but she hadn’t responded. It had taken months for him to realize the truth. Naomi had never truly been his friend. She had only quested with him because they were two of Camlaté’s best warriors. In his other life, Ted would have simply rolled over. But not here.
Here, he was still Theodore the Great.
He had been reluctant to reveal his identity to the other workers, fearing the same judgment he had received from Frederick. However, it had turned out that he was just the kind of person they were looking for – a leader.
Of course, it helped that they knew of his legend.
Ted had never been able to justify parting with Debt. Two months before, the eligible players had voted against the implementation of guns, meaning the weapon was still extremely valuable. Of course, the workers had only just learned the results of the latest round of updates. Joel had long ago stopped writing.
Ted touched his free hand to his muscular chest as he passed the man working the next row, David. David wiped his brow and scratched his chin. It was a form of sign language they had spent weeks working out in their shoddy cabins. To the untrained eye of their minders, it meant nothing. To Ted, it meant that the escape was on.
The farm was in the midst of a weeks long drought. The minders had lessened their focus on the workers to help speed up the irrigation process from the nearby river. Unknowingly, they had created the perfect opportunity.
Ted nodded at the minder as he deposited his filled basket and headed back towards the barracks. As he stepped inside the cabin he shared with seven other workers, night came, and the torches around the barracks flickered to life.
Perfect.
“Is everything set, Theodore?” Kayla asked him. The others were gathered around the lean woman with a nervous gleam in their eyes.
“Yes. Tonight, we take the first step towards Newspresso and freedom.”
The others touched their ring finger to their forehead, saluting.
Ted kicked at the floor, his strength easily allowing him to break through the boards. He reached in and retrieved the bundle stored there on his first day. As he revealed Debt, the others looked at him in awe.
“You really are him,” Kayla gasped.
Ted smiled confidently as cries of alarm began to come from the fields. “Whatever came before matters no longer.” He raised his sword. “To freedom.”
Against a backdrop of flames, Ted stood at the head of a hundred workers. Blood coated the steel of his blade and plastered his body. His long hair was filled with soot, and his face was blackened with smoke. He had become death incarnate.
Ted smiled. Theodore the Great indeed.
At first, the minders had tried to fight them among the burning rows. Then, they had retreated and formed a final stand at the gate of the palisade. Of course, it was Frederick at their head. His small face floated like a pea above his oversized plate armor.
“You!” Frederick shouted when Ted stepped boldly forward. The minders behind him took a step backwards. They had obviously seen Debt’s work in the flaming fields; they wisely feared the death that came in its wake.
“We only want our freedom,” Ted said. “Stand aside and let us pass.”
Frederick foolishly ignored him, charging forward in a clanking mass of steel. He held an oversized sword in both hands, its pommel studded with rubies. Frederick waved his men onward, but the other minders didn’t move.
Ted easily parried the man’s first blow, stepping aside with grace. Debt was like a feather in his hands, flowing effortlessly through the air at his every whim and will. They battled for what seemed hours, the clashing of their blades melding with the raging inferno. Until, finally, Frederick made a mistake.
Ted feigned a parry, spinning fluidly to his left and leaving the other man’s blade to carve through the empty air. He then flowed into a flawless overhand attacking strike, Debt slicing through Frederick’s heavy armor as if weren’t even there.
The minders fled as their leader fell into two pieces upon the ground.
Ted raced to the wall and cut through the gate’s lock. Then, he stepped into the plains beyond the farm and took a deep breath. Freedom.
*
?? – GY 92
It didn’t last long.
Ted spent nearly a year trekking through wilderness before leading the surviving workers into sight of Newspresso. At first, the endless rows of sky-scrapers had looked inviting. They had proven anything but.
He had been caught unprepared once again. The game had gone under another extensive update since he had been imprisoned and escaped Agruccino.
He had missed his opportunity to enroll as a citizen as Newspresso, forsaking any chance at obtaining a formidable job. He had thus been labeled an immigrant and was treated as a second-class citizen. No one believed that he was an original player, or that he had actually bought Debt himself. What little market there was for “stolen goods” was a joke.
To avoid assured starvation on the smog-filled streets, he had been forced to conform to the industrial society. By chance, he had found a job on the crowded floor of one of the factories after a man had died in an accident. The factory was staffed entirely by undocumented immigrants and only paid a fraction of their actual worth, always in cash. To survive, he had moved into a small apartment with some of the others from Agruccino.
Unlike the farm, there was little hope of escape. The only way to a better life in Newspresso was a tunnel beneath the northern mountains. It served as a conduit for the endless line of streaming trains that passed between the two sections of the city, rich and poor. Without proper documentation, no one from the factory-side could pass through. Such documentation was impossible for immigrants to obtain.
“There’s got to be something we can do, Ted,” David said as he did every day.
They were alone in the tiny apartment; the others all worked the late shift. As he did every night, Ted had taken out Debt to polish the radiant blade. The sight of the sword reminded him that he had squandered the advantage of being an original player. Of how the world had moved on without him.
Ted sighed, helpless.
“You could cut through the tunnel just like the gate around the farms. The citizens of Newspresso just voted down the implementation of guns for the next hundred years. You’re still one of the most powerful warriors in the world.”
Ted shook his head. At first, he had thought of escape every day, but his plans had come up empty at every turn. It hadn’t taken long for him to give up hope altogether.
“They would kill me eventually,” Ted said. “Even with Debt.”
David nodded in understanding. Even the factory was better than death.
They both leapt to their feet at a knock on the door. Once, they had lived in fear of Newspresso’s agents, but the government had left the immigrants alone for decades. Still, their instincts were sharp. Being deported to Agruccino was not an option. They would never even make it to the fields – their crimes had not been forgotten.
The knock came again.
Ted stilled himself against the wall, sword at the ready. He motioned David to open the door and prepared to attack.
A boy stepped into their tiny apartment. “Are you Ted?”
David shook his head and pointed to where Ted was concealing his blade.
The boy walked over to Ted and handed him a message. Without a word, he turned and raced from the room, undoubtedly in a rush to deliver his next message.
“What does it say?” David asked.
Ted read the message a second time. “It’s from Joel. He says that a rival nation has declared war on Camlaté. That there’s going to be war.” He read the message a final time just to make sure and looked at Debt, smiling for the first time in years.
Ted was first in line to enlist.
*
GY 129
“Messenger approaching, Captain.”
Ted turned from the large map of Teland, instinctively wrapping his fingers around Debt’s hilt. He had barely fought off an assassination attempt the day before. Now, that the war was almost over, the enemy was desperate.
He didn’t lower his guard as a young man ducked inside the tent flap. Even when the soldier presented the appropriate code sign, Ted stayed alert.
“Go ahead, Private.”
“Second Company has defeated the enemy forces in the West, Captain,” the soldier reported in a level tone. “The Major has ordered the final assault at dawn. Their Captain would like to consult with you in person, Sir.”
Ted frowned. Was this the trap?
He had gained citizenship by enlisting in the army and had quickly been promoted to Captain of the Fifth Company. His designation as an original player had been restored, and his crimes forgiven. Upon seeing the havoc Debt sewed on the battlefield, legends of Theodore the Great had resurfaced. Ted had neither confirmed or denied them.
Ted had met the Major several times but never the legendary Captain of the Second. The other three Companies had been devastated in the initial assaults, leaving the Second and Fifth as their nation’s last hope.
From Agruccino in the east and Newspresso in the west, they had pushed the enemy back across the northern border of Camlaté, never coming together. Now that they had surrounded the enemy capital, a meeting seemed logical.
Still, he worried.
“Where does he want to meet?” Ted asked.
In response, the tent flap opened and a figure in white armor stepped inside, dismissing the manager with a curt wave.
“She.” Naomi smiled at him. “Hello, Theodore.”
Somehow, Ted avoided fainting from shock. Naomi was just as beautiful as she ever was, more so even. She had cut her black hair short, drawing more attention to her dark brown eyes and perfect nose. Breathtaking.
“Naomi,” he managed, “I’m … um … sorry about your farm.” In the slums of Newspresso, he had learned his riot had started a revolt. It had eventually been put down, but not before nearly ruining Agruccino’s economy. “And … it’s just Ted now.”
She laughed. Then, for some reason she stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry for being an ass. I got caught up being in trying to become royalty. Guess I got what I deserved. Let’s call it even.”
“You got it.” Ted turned and tried to regain his composure looking over the map. “We’ll have enough time for a proper reunion after we win.”
She placed her hand atop his own, and their eyes met. “I look forward to it.”
*
GY 146
Ted had never been in love before. Well, not the kind of love where the feeling was reciprocated. It was an even better feeling than breaking down the gate, then winning the war in Teland. When he was with Naomi, nothing could ever be wrong.
She made him whole.
After the fall of Teland, they had returned to Camlaté, exploring the countryside, reliving the questing days of old. They had even visited Newspresso where the Major had bestowed them with the highest of military honors. Eventually, they had returned and built a mansion on the infertile plot of land Ted had bought a lifetime before in Agruccino.
“Have you seen this, Ted?” she asked from the living room.
Ted sat down on the couch beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. The grainy image on the television showed a familiar sight – the once ruined streets of the capital of Teland. Apparently, another nation had risen from the ashes of the first. A graphic displaying a call to enlist appeared on the screen.
“Turn it off,” Ted said.
They hadn’t been back in Agruccino a year when Joel had appeared on his doorstep. It was as if no time had passed at all, and they had picked up their friendship from where it had left off. Joel had eventually introduced Naomi to his wife, and they had become fast friends as well. Everything was perfect.
Until Joel had revealed the truth.
The entire war had been meaningless. The creators of Teland were business rivals of the creators of Camlaté. The result of the war had determined which of them would control the world. They hadn’t cared about the citizens or the hundreds of thousands who had died – it had only been about obtaining control.
“They’ll want us to fight,” Naomi said softly.
Ted shook his head. “I know, but we won’t. I promise.” He interlocked his fingers with her own. “I can’t chance losing you again.”
That was a harder promise to keep than Ted had imagined. They quickly lost their military stipends and were blacklisted from the nation’s workforce that had been entirely committed to destroying Teland once and for all.
In response, they had taken to the fields outside the capital of Camlaté, promoting the truth of the war. Initially their protest was met with indifference, but, when Joel leaked a classified document from inside the government, it caught fire. Thousands had gathered in demonstration across the nation, refusing to fight and die.
Eventually, the citizens of Teland had joined in as well.
The war had ended in a truce. At the Major’s request, Ted and Naomi had both taken positions on the newly formed Council of Nations.
Things were good. For a while anyways.
*
GY 288
Ted looked out the window of his office, but it was so high up he couldn’t even see the street below. Sighing, he swung the chair around the stare at Debt where he had mounted it on the opposite wall. He tried to remember the last time he had used it but couldn’t. The unformed muscles of his body were terrified at the very thought of exercise.
Not to mention that guns had finally been voted into existence. The sword was useless in battle, even against unskilled foes. Not that he planned on battling anytime soon. Most wars were fought by drones thousands of miles away.
He checked the clock on his phone, then the one on his tablet. 10:09 AM. There was still twenty-one minutes before his meeting with the leaders of newest nation – whatever it was calling itself. They were springing up faster than roaches, bringing countless meetings in their wake to ensure their citizens conformed.
Although, it had been years since Ted had done anything of importance in a meeting. The Major handled most of the negotiations between new nations himself. After Naomi had left him, Ted had taken months off in order to find himself – he hadn’t. The world had changed again, and he foolishly thought he had been ready to handle it.
Now, Ted couldn’t quit his job. He had nothing to move on to.
He wondered how he had ended up here. Why everything was always the same. It seemed that every time he finally got ahead, he was cut down from behind. He wondered what Naomi was doing half-way across the world. If he would ever see her again. He couldn’t point to a specific argument or even a defining moment; they had simply drifted apart.
It turned out neither of them had been any good at relationships.
Begrudgingly, Ted waded into the cube-farm towards the distant vending machine, drawing the judging eyes of his staff. He knew they didn’t respect him. They only had some vague idea of what he had done to help save their nation. It was right there on the internet … if they ever bothered to look it up.
He no longer cared about what they thought. What anyone thought. Going to work had once excited him. Now, it was like everything else in the world, slowly trying to kill him. It wouldn’t be much longer before it succeeded.
Ted pulled up out of breath at the humming machine and sighed as he surveyed his limited options for a mid-morning snack. After a long moment, he pulled out a dollar bill, inserted it into the machine and selected his poison. The plastic ring unwound and the candy bar fell to bottom with a loud crash which everyone certainly heard.
The noise didn’t bother him. He had probably emptied most of the machine himself over the last few months. Everyone had become obsessed with healthier options, but those would be proven to be just as bad in a few more years.
He had finished the candy bar by the time he sat back down. Flipping over his phone, he saw that he had three messages from Joel. Despite it all, he was happy for his friend. He and his wife had become successful software gurus in the west. They talked regularly but never about anything truly important.
Hey man, I’m looking for testers for anew game. Same as late time but better.
You in?
I got a flight ready for you to the Bay – 6 PM.
Last time? What was Joel talking about now? Still, it sounded like a vacation. Ted wiped his fat fingers on the wrinkled pant leg before responding.
Sure man. See you at 6.
THE END