After throwing his keyboard in a fit of rage, Simon didn’t remember much. He supposed he must have been injected with some kind of knock-out drug, probably to quiet his delirious screaming. After a dreamless sleep, he awoke floating in a thick, warm liquid. From the smell of antibiotics and musty wi-fi, Simon figured he had been moved into a pod of hospital healing fluid. He had been in a pod before, when he had accidentally superglued a cybernetic eyeball to his right nipple, so he was well familiar with the smell. The syrupy mixture enveloping Simon kept him paralyzed and oxygenated as indentured nanobot slaves healed his bones with melted candle wax. Earth’s surgical glue supply had been stolen by the Martian empire several hundred years ago, so modern hospitals were forced to make do with boiling wax. Mysteriously, fatalities from bone fractures had risen by seven hundred percent since the practice of wax healing began. Muffled by the thick liquid was a pre-recorded message playing on a loop. In a soothing, yet clearly synthesized voice, it described beautiful sunlight paddocks of frolicking meat carriers, whose deliciously engorged flesh was free of the hustle and bustle of city living. The voice was clearly intended to relax and calm the hospital’s patients. After all, what child didn’t at some point wish to be a meat carrier? The calming effect did not work on Simon, however, as the background music of Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe’s login screen was driving railroad spikes through his psyche. There were five hours left until he could play. Five hours of that dreaded maintenance. What were they maintaining, anyway? MSHU’s servers were barely functional at the best of times. In all likelihood, the maintenance was just an excuse to add in more microtransactions. The last update had locked the right mouse button behind a forty dollar paywall. They were probably gearing up to do the same thing with the escape key. With a hearty beep, the nanobot slaves signaled their work had been completed. Simon’s shattered bones had been patched up with bubbling molten wax. However, before the nanobots could let Simon out of the pod and give him his fifteen trillion dollar hospital bill, someone else beat them to it. The pod’s plastic walls crumpled and split apart as Simon felt himself forcefully torn out of his gooey bed.
‘THIS HOSPITAL IS UNDER ARREST,’ barked the grating voice of what could only be a government peace enforcement cyborg.
Simon coughed up a glob of healing fluid and asked, ‘Why?’
‘ANTI-EARTH CONSPIRACY,’ the cyborg replied. ‘EVERY HUMAN IN THIS HOSPITAL HAS BEEN SENTENCED TO INFINITY YEARS PRISON.’
‘Seems reasonable,’ Simon said, desperately not wanting to invoke the cyborg’s wrath.
Seemingly satisfied that he would not attempt to resist, the cyborg used its high tech restraining device to club Simon over the head, knocking him unconscious.
----------------------------------------
Simon woke up, yet again, in a new place. His head was throbbing, and he was pretty sure being knocked unconscious for an extended period of time meant that he now had severe brain damage. Simon pushed the concern aside and focused on what was in front of him. Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe’s maintenance had finally been completed. Simon could finally log in. He could finally get help. Simon reached for his mouse and keyboard and froze. He didn’t have them. They were probably still back in the hospital room where he had left them. Simon could not log in without them.
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‘Hey,’ came a gruff, highly intimidating voice, ‘what are you in for?’
So, Simon was in prison now it seemed. Saying he had been arrested for anti-Earth conspiracy sounded like a bad idea, so Simon decided to improvise. ‘Pro… Earth… conspiracy?’ he replied.
‘HMM?’ the gruff voice grunted. ‘Pro-Earth conspiracy? We’re all anti-Earth conspirators here, and we don’t take kindly to pro-Earthers.’
A chorus of boos erupted around Simon. This was not good.
‘You’re this close to being pummelled by me and my boys,’ said the gruff voice, ’but I’ll let you off on one condition: that whatever game you’re playing on that headset is one I personally enjoy and would consider a high-quality product.’
A bead of sweat ran down Simon’s forehead.
‘And it better not be that game Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe,’ the gruff voice continued. ‘I hate that game. In fact, I would go so far as to say it’s my least favorite game. If you were to tell me, right now, that you were playing Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe, I would probably kill you. Actually, I’m certain I would. That’s how much I hate Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe. Even if you had been unwittingly forced into playing it and had yet to even log in due to not having a keyboard and mouse, I would still kill you. So you better not be playing Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe. Anyway, what game are you playing?’
‘Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe,’ said Simon.
‘Did you just say Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe?’ asked the gruff voice.
‘No, I said Fallout New Vegas,’ Simon replied.
‘That’s not what I heard,’ said the gruff voice.
‘It’s what I said.’ Sweat was pooling inside Simon’s headset.
‘Hey, did this guy say Fallout New Vegas?’ the gruff voice asked someone else.
Another equally gruff voice replied, ‘Sounded like he said Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe to me, boss.’
‘You sure he didn’t say Fallout New Vegas?’ gruff voice one asked.
‘Eighty percent sure, at least,’ said gruff voice two.
‘We need a third opinion,’ said gruff voice one.
‘He definitely said Mahou Shoujo Hologram Universe, boss,’ said gruff voice three.
‘Right then,’ said gruff voice one. ‘I think we all know what that means.’
Gruff voice one’s fist cracked against Simon’s headset, driving his head into the concrete wall behind him. Simon’s skull, now tough and rubbery from the dried wax, bounced off the wall, driving the bizarrely indestructible VR headset straight into what felt like someone’s nose.
‘That guy just broke Gruff Voice One’s nose!’ someone shouted.
Gruff Voice One grunted in pain. ‘You know, we have a special tradition around here,’ he said, his gruff voice now amusingly nasally. ‘Whoever can break Gruff Voice One’s nose becomes the new Gruff Voice One. Good job kid, you’re the boss now.’
Simon blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘So, Gruff Voice One,’ said the previous Gruff Voice One, ‘What’re your first orders?’
Accepting that he was now somehow in charge of these prisoners, Simon’s first thought was ordering them to help get the headset off. But then again, admitting he superglued it on, then fused it to his skull in a car accident would be very embarrassing. It would better to get help under the guise of internet anonymity, and for that, he needed his mouse and keyboard back.
‘I need to escape,’ said Simon.