Prologue: The Richest Man in the World
My name is Jake Dergley and I am the richest man in the world. I control the internet access of over six billion users. Nearly half of the world’s GDP is disseminated across hundreds of bank accounts, all owned by me. If I wanted to, I could wipe out the debt of just about every third world country on the planet with a single command.
Throughout modern history, countless writers, activists, politicians, and great thinkers have warned against the dangers of power. As the saying goes, “power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.” Well, he did say “almost,” didn’t he? Maybe I’m the exception.
I sure hope I am, because I’m about to press a button that will destroy the world as we know it.
Before I do though, I’m leaving an account of my rise from homelessness to this ivory tower. I’ve been an avid journaler since my high school days, so instead of retelling the story, it’s best I think if I just share my journal entries here. I tend to narrate my interactions with other people as I would if I were writing. Maybe I always knew I was going to write a book, haha. Anyhow, I don’t expect I’ll be around long after I do this, so consider this my last testimony.
Chapter 1: The Paper
January 20th, 2036
Wow, a journal entry worth recording. Last time I made one of these was when I was mugged back in Moorpark. I think that was… a year or so ago. It was raining then. It’s raining now in fact. You know how you know I’m a Californian? I felt it important enough to mention rain in my journal.
Oh by the way, I’m encrypting this entry and probably most that follow, just in case.
Continuing on: I finally had my Neuroweb implant installed yesterday. Yep, I made it this far without one, but days without food can be a powerful motivator. Last time I ate was Wednesday, about three days back. Turns out the surgery was more of a simple injection into the soft tissue behind my ear. I guess the implants have become so small at this point, no cutting is required.
They didn’t even use a topical anesthetic. Yes, that’s my way of saying, IT HURT.
It freaks me out a bit to think that there is nano-technology swimming around in my bloodstream and attaching itself to my brain, then feeding on the iron and other minerals in the blood stream to construct a network lattice implant in my skull.
Well, too late to cry about it now. It’s done and, according to the doctor at our local “Neuroweb Care Facility,” removing it is an expensive and dangerous process. So, there you go. I’m another one of the neurozombies. Or rather, I will be one soon. Ugh.
The implant should be fully grown in a few days. By Monday, I’ll be ready to search the web for a virtual job. In the meantime, like all new subscribers, I’ve been given an introductory “thank you” payment of 100 Pancakes. Or uh, Pan American Credits. Pan Credits, pancakes, funny…you know? Don’t ask me how the slang starts. I mean why was the old currency called “bucks?” I dunno. You, you know what, this is my journal entry. I don’t need to explain slang. It’s not like anyone will read these a hundred years from now.
So, yeah, here I am with 100 pancakes, which should last me a few days for food and fuel, assuming I can find a damned gas station in town. Funny, I remember a time when you had to do actual research to find an electric charging station. Now it’s the opposite.
Alright, I’m getting a headache. It’s either the implant growing or the lack of food. I’m going to go spend my slave money and eat. Heh. I’ll check back in a few days when I can connect to the Neuroweb.
January 22nd, 2036
So, I’m definitely encrypting the rest of these journal entries.
This morning, my implant finished growing. I guess it needed alot of iron because I’ve been craving steak for days. Funny I know. Steak is for the ultra wealthy. Best source of iron a guy like me can find is broccoli. Thankfully, I really like broccoli and I had some money to spare. It seems even in the toughest of times, nobody wants to eat their veggies haha. More for me. I was able to buy a bag of the stuff, real broccoli, from pretty cheap.
Oh right, the implant. So, it turned on this morning. I was in the middle of chowing down on some boiled broccoli I made on my portable burner when I heard a loud chime go off. For a sec, I had no idea where it came from. Then, out of nowhere, a message popped up… and I say popped up because I can’t think of a better way to put it. Well, it popped up right in my vision.
There I was, looking out the windshield of my car/home at the Simi Valley slums when a bright blue “Welcome to Neuroweb” just appeared. I blinked my eyes, but the message remained. Suddenly, a baritone voice said, “Welcome, Jake, to Neuroweb. I will be your guide as you learn to navigate your way to a new and more prosperous life as a Neuroweb user.”
After taking a moment to recover from the shock, my head started to fill with questions. But, should I just ask the air? Will this thing talk to me, or am I losing my mind? Finally, I replied, “Ok, so how interactive are you? What kinds of questions can I ask?”
“Anything from the most technical to the most absurd. I am partially you.”
This took me aback. “Sorry, partially me?”
“Your implant possesses very little actual computing power on its own. However, the human brain is a powerful biochemical processor. Therefore, the engineering geniuses over at Neuroweb Inc have designed the newest implants to utilize idle brain capacity for most processing.”
“That sounds dangerous,” I replied.
“Not at all. In fact, it’s quite healthy. The increased neuroactivity required for my processing burns thousands of calories a day. Not only are you able to connect to the Neuroweb and therefore find many opportunities for virtual employment, but you also have a great way to burn fat without having to exercise. This is one of many benefits of being a Neuroweb Inc user.”
I looked down at my depleted body and laughed, shaking my head. Terms like “excess fat” went out during the last economic boom of the early 2020s. Like most other people, I’m woefully underweight. You could probably play a xylophone solo on my ribcage if you wanted.
This was why non-implanted people, of which I was one of until a few days ago, would call neuroweb implant users “neurozombies.” They had all the telltale signs. Lurching around, always hungry, moaning. Ok that last one maybe not so much, but that’s my dumb sense of humor showing.
“Well, that’s great,” I said, sighing. “So, if I don’t find employment, quick, I’ll die of starvation, eaten by my implant.”
“Of course not. The standard XM-37 implant is designed to render itself inert if its user’s body fat falls below 0.5% bodyfat. Your implant also functions as a medical monitor. Observe.”
Suddenly, my vision was filled with medical statistics and a three dimensional beating heart projected onto a three dimensional human body. Blood pressure 130 over 84 (slightly elevated), body temp 98.5 degrees F/ 36.94 C (normal), body fat percentage 3% (low).
Many more statistics scrolled by such as blood sugar, cholesterol and blood iron levels. I was equal parts fascinated and horrified that my implant knew so much about me.
“I am detecting an elevated heart rate. Rest assured, your medical information is private and will only be shared with Neuroweb Medical Services if your life is in danger. The biomonitor functions of your implant are provided to you by Neuroweb Inc completely free of charge. Neuroweb - We Care For You.”
“How comforting,” I snorted, shaking my head.
“Are your questions satisfied? If so, I can introduce you to the neuroweb and help you in procuring your first virtual job.”
I sighed, “Not even close, but I guess I’ll ask them later. If my brain’s burning thousands more calories a day, I need to start rolling in the pancakes. Pretty genius system. Dangle a hundred credits in front of desperate people’s noses and then inform them when it’s too late that they’re a slave to your implant and have to work that much more just to keep from being eaten alive.”
Ignoring my comment, the voice said, “I require a verbal cue. Please say, ‘connect me’ to begin”
My stomach growled at me and I sighed again. “Connect me.”
My world disappeared.
I’ll try to speed up the rest of this entry. I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I’m going to try and recount my first foray into the neuroweb before I fall asleep. This one’s important. Otherwise I’d just go to bed and sleep for… for uh…
Oops. Fell asleep for a moment there.Ok let’s do this.
Unlike the heads up display of my bio monitor, this thing completely transported me. Or rather, I was still sitting in my car, but my mind was on the web. The sound of my engine idling, the birds chirping, the kids playing in the filth of the streets, all of it just went mute. Suddenly, I was on an impossibly clean street tucked between endless European style brick buildings that lined the short curb all the way to the horizon. In fact, no…these streets were German.
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When I was younger, and when the world was less of a mess, I visited Germany with my parents. I remember the streets being clean like these were and the rows and rows of brick and stone buildings lining the two lanes. Somehow, the Germans found a way to line booths sides with parked cars and still call it a two lane street. Haha.
Maybe this was the AI’s way of easing me into the neuroweb, by drawing from my memories. I’m not sure. I was too afraid to ask. If it had that kind of access to my brain…
“Where am I?” I asked.
“The street doesn’t have a name. No streets do here,” The AI replied. Here, it’s voice was deeper and had an echo, as if it was God shouting down to me from the sky, but there was no benevolence in it. I felt like a rat in a maze.
“What do I do?”
“Your first priority is finding employment. Please proceed down this street and take a right at the first crossing. Don’t worry. There are no cars here as in your memories. You may walk freely. Once you make the turn, you will be in our ‘employment’ district. Feel free to explore the district. All buildings are open at this hour.”
Ai being able to access all my memories - conspiracy confirmed. Furthermore, it was beginning to bother me that the AI was so adamant about me finding a job. Perhaps it cared for my well being. Ha! Yeah right. Inasmuch as me starving would mean its death too. More likely Neuroweb Inc wants all its users working to make them richer.
I walked for a bit. I dunno, 5 minutes maybe? Time in that place is weird. I mean, it moves like time here, but it’s somehow different. When you think back to a particularly epic dream, does it seem like your adventure stretched on for hours and hours? Well, it usually happened in the span of ten minutes or less. I think I read that somewhere. Well, that’s how the Neuroweb is. Or at least that’s how it seems. I have to read more into it.
I finally turned the corner. The style of the buildings immediately changed. Giant modern skyscrapers lined this street which was at least six lanes wide. Strange since there were no cars. Around me, hundreds, probably thousands of people walked from building to building. It was both unsettling and beautiful. Everything looked so real. I didn’t feel like I was in a virtual world.
I mean, I knew I was, but this was an entirely different experience from browsing the virtual web on my laptop. I wasn’t looking in at a world that was being rendered by a GPU. I was experiencing it, in the same way your subconscious writes the story of your dreams for your waking mind to experience. The AI told me that much.
“How is my brain able to process all this data?” I asked. “This many character models walking around like this would burn out even the best GPU in seconds.”
“Your brain is translating most of this data and populating the world with characters based on the input. For instance, all the people you see here are really here, browsing, but your brain is only being fed the data from their profiles. A profile just contains a facial picture and basic physical information, no more than you would find on a driver’s license.”
“So, their body size, their clothes, and everything else about them, I’m making up?”
“That is correct.”
“And what about the buildings and streets?” I asked.
“They too are mostly projections of your mind. The system tells you their height, material, and colors, and your brain translates that information and ‘fleshes’ them out, to use a familiar term. The system tells you that the building is made of tinted glass and your brain draws from pictures, movies, magazines, and real life encounters with the material then draws it. Your perception of this street might be slightly different from others, or wildly different in some cases.”
Once upon a time, I was a game designer. Back before the whole world fell apart. This was all fascinating to me, but the AI seemed to be almost annoyed with my questions.
“Please proceed to the nearest building of your interest. There are signs located near the entrances of each that explain the general job type within.”
I could have spent days just walking around the employment street and puzzling at how my brain was able to sort all this data, but my stomach groaned and began to ache.
“So, they block out the real world in the neuroweb but they let us continue to feel hunger,” I commented under my breath. “Gotta keep those slaves hungry.” If the AI had a rebuttal, it opted not to give one.
I walked up to the nearest building. It was a massive circular skyscraper of at least one hundred floors. At its base were three rotating doors. People were coming and going through the doors. Mostly coming. It was morning after all. Next to the door was a large white sign with black letters that read “Idling.”
I’m not fond of doing nothing at work, but the sign was intriguing. I didn’t realize how literal that sign would turn out to be.
The rotating doors at the base of the building never stopped slowly spinning, so I waited for an opening and quickly stepped in. As I emerged, I was met with the sheen of a black granite tiled floor, or at least what my brain translated it to be, and a large white quartz counter that filled half the room and was flanked by two chrome doors to the elevators.
Behind the counter were a dozen different people. I can’t really remember what most of them looked like. Recounting experiences in the neuroweb is like recounting a dream. Even with vivid dreams, you remember the important details, but the other stuff disappears within seconds of waking up.
What I do remember is that everyone looked… tired? Bored? I’m not sure. Dead eyed at the very least.
I found the least tired looking person, a woman in her 30s with short dirty blonde hair. Like the others, she was wearing a simple white button up shirt and a green nametag.
“Hello, uhh Janice,” I said. I squinted instinctively to read her nametag, but it seems, I didn’t need to. I realized just then that I wasn’t wearing glasses. I guess that’s one of the perks to a virtual world. “Can you tell me a bit about what the sign outside means by ‘idling?’”
Janice slowly turned her head and looked at me. Well, it felt more like she was looking into an invisible space behind me. She replied in an almost singsong fashion, as if she’d done this too many times to count. “Here at the idling center, you can loan your processing power to Neuroweb Inc for any number of their millions of software plugins. Your active thought processes will be spooled down to 10% while 90% of your brain will be dedicated to processing data.”
“What in the-”
She interrupted me. Well, now that I think of it, she was just talking on autopilot. I don’t think she could have stopped. “The ten percent of your mind is allowed to enjoy any number of tropical scenes or relaxing waterfalls while the rest performs calculations. At the conclusion of your workday, you will be given full control of your mind again and receive fourty pan-american credits.”
“5 pancakes an hour?!” I exclaimed. “That’s insane. I could barely eat on that kind of pay.”
With her pre-practiced response over, her cloudy eyes slowly swung to meet mine. “Correction,” she replied. “3.33 pan-american credits per hour. The neuroweb standard workday is 12 hours.”
At this, I laughed, deep. Before my implant, I could scratch by a living making nearly one hundred pancakes on a good day fixing broken down electric cars, repairing failed laptops, or any number of odd jobs. Then again, the work was so inconsistent, that’s why I’m here, another neurozombie just looking for his next meal. Ugh.
“No thanks,” I said.
I’ve never exited a building so fast.
I spent most of the rest of my day going from building to building. Some jobs were more interesting than others. One in particular caught my eye. Building 3D environments for virtual vacation spots. The pay was only marginally better - 70 pancakes a day. Still a 12 hour day though. And I can only imagine how draining that type of work would be. Creative work is mentally exhausting as it is. But, creative work through an implant that’s already draining 2,000 calories a day? That sounds like a lobotomy.
My other choices were ‘code consistency engineer,’ ‘rehabilitation specialist,’ and a number of mind numbing number crunching jobs. Nothing looked even remotely intriguing, and all paid similar rates.
I’d just about settled on the 3D environment job when something caught my eye. In fact, ok year I was walking back to the building to go and apply, ok? I have principles but I was also really hungry.
As I was saying, something caught my eye. It was a piece of paper, seeming to be fluttering down the street in a breeze. Thing is, there are no breezes in the neuroweb, and there’s no trash either.
I looked around to see if others had noticed it, but they hadn’t. Maybe they were just so zombified mentally, they couldn’t. I don’t know, but the point is, I did.
I jogged over to pick up the paper, but a breeze caught it and blew it further from me. Again, I tried to catch up to it, but each time I tried, it would simply dance in the invisible wind further from me.
Finally, a stronger breeze blew the paper down an alley. Strange since up to this point, the buildings were all tightly packed. I suddenly realized that the street too had narrowed. I was out of the employment area and back on one of the endless streets that lead out through the infinite town.
I turned the corner and chased the paper down the alley. Somehow it was much darker here. I looked up and the sky was as blue and bright as ever, but the alley seemed to exist in a perpetual state of nighttime.
Steam rose from storm vents and curled into moonlight from a moon that wasn’t there. The far end of the alley met a graffiti covered wall where trashbags piled up higher than my head. Despite the mess, and my confusion, the paper I had been chasing stood out. Here, it was bright and white. It’s as if the sun above couldn’t penetrate the alley but somehow could still touch the paper.
This was either bad programming or, looking back on it now, very intentional. I walked up to the paper and picked it up. On it, written in gold ink were the words, ‘Freedom from oppression, freedom to oppress.’”
Ok, now remember how I said much of what you experience in the neuroweb is half remembered when you leave? Well, those words didn’t fade at all. I’m barely able to keep my eyes open right now as I dictate this, but I remember those words clearly.
I’m seriously about to conk out here, so here’s the rest. I folded and pocketed the paper. Not sure why. I know that it doesn’t actually exist. Maybe it’s just pure habit from the waking world. Well, the moment I placed it in my pocket, I heard a loud ding…or ring? Something. Speaking of ringing, my head is killing me.
Where was I? Oh right.
All of the sudden, my bank’s webpage popped up in front of me. I didn’t prompt it to, it just did. “Why is my bank account in my vision?” I asked the AI. But, it didn’t answer. I asked again to more silence. So, I clicked, or imagined clicking on the balance tab. That seems to have worked because it changed to show my balance…which was now 1000 pancakes. Yep, that’s right. I suddenly had money.
Then, the balance faded and, well, everything faded. Suddenly, I had a very real feeling of falling. I screamed, yeah I’m not too tough to admit it. I was scared out of my wits. I know it was all virtual, but your brain doesn’t know stuff like that in the moment.
I don’t know how long I fell. As I said before, time is funky in the neuroweb. Eventually I stopped though. I felt myself land on my feet, as soft as if I’d jumped off a small curb. I looked around. Above me was a massive field of stars. They were brighter and fuller than even the most remote sky I’d seen before. Below my feet was a grassy meadow, I think. It couldn’t see much, despite the starlight. It was more of an impression. Like when a light dew covers the ground and reflects the night sky.
Before I could see any more, everything started to fade. I could feel myself being pulled back into reality. Then, boom, I was here, in my crappy car. Around me were the slums again, though it was evening.
One more thing, a woman’s voice filled my ears, the same way my AI assistant did. She said, “tomorrow, the real work begins.”
That was right before I started this journal entry. I’ve never felt this tired in my life. It’s like… like….
[Log 01.22.36.22.02.1 Neuroweb Recorder Software Version 2.35 - Recording ((STOP)) 5 Minutes of Inactivity]