“99+” was the amount in red above The Wick group chat. Opening it, Yeung-Sung smiled at the bottom entry.
[
Below that, a notification asked him whether he wanted to read down the rest of the messages or scroll to the top. Well, I have the time, he thought. Then another message (Pa-king!) leapt into the count and he reconsidered. Scrolling to the bottom, Yeung-Sung danced out {Guess what? I am alive!} Satisfied, he muscled the effort to stand up and wandered over to his table check out what else was stocked.
He tabbed back to his queue for a moment, then to his avatar, before putting the phone flat on the table and sitting. Several bars and sachets were lined up at each side like cutlery, all covered in a navy wrapper. Taking a bar and turning it over in his hand, he found its nutritional information compressed in tiny pink text. High in fat and protein, yet no carbs? The ingredients weren’t listed, except to say “GLI sustenance bar. Vegan, gluten-free and delicious! May contain nuts”. His lips were taut and dry over his mouth as he broke open the packaging. Brown. How appetising. He put the thing down and picked up a sachet instead. “Tear open, mix with water and drink deep to keep energised and healthy.” Its nutritional details were similar to the bars, except with a long list of vitamins and minerals, some of them bolded, sticking out in a larger font size, but none of them were anything he had ever hear of. Vitamin C13? Unillivium? Is the real experiment getting me to eat this crap? Feeling an uncomfortable need to swallow, Yeung-Sung saw that it ended with “And more!”
His phone vibrated again, and this time it was met as a welcome segue. Pouring himself a glass of water, Yeung-Sung slit open the sachet and sniffed. The smell was too muted to make out. He let a few grains of it fall out and of course, they were brown. It’s like soil -but for people. Just water it is. Taking a sip, he browsed through the new messages.
< Shirely> Hi!
The text just kept coming. Yeung-Sung’s shoulders hung just over the table’s edge. Eyes drying out under the blue light, he replied as fast as he could. {Thanks guys! I am working on a poison pot-} He stopped. Snapping his neck back straight, he rolled his head slowly around.
{Thanks guys! I am working on
{Thanks guys! I am work-
{Thanks guy-
{T
{Trying out some things} He wiped his brow and nervously swapped between his active Airgead tabs.
He held his breath. That’s enough, I reckon. All activity on his screen stilled and once again the colony felt fake. A picture of a society. Then, ellipses wriggled onto his screen. [Darnes, WilHelmet and 5 others are typing…] and he breathed out. It was alive again. Yeung-Sung slid his elbows far into the table and rested his head, in a daze amidst the flashing heartbeat of Airgead. A pop from another chat pinged his screen, but he ignored it as he typed;
As he waited, another notification emerged: [New Mastery]. I’ll check it out later. Flipping back to the home screen -avatar parsing his hands through beach sand- he searched for the direct messages he had been avoiding. He bit his lip as he scanned the top line of each one.. All of them, using very different approaches, were trying to get him to join their faction. He opened the top entry.
From: Retinue
Subject: Recruitment
Pak, do you find it hard to adjust to the colony? Are its ways confusing? Have no fear, for you have like-minded friends. Between all this chaos, we’ve taken to installing an updated democracy to this great platform. Ours is a true and equal process, allowing each and every coloner audience and venue to make their voices heard! GLI has caught the fall of many of the world’s government over the past few years, as well as stopping global thermonuclear war with the wave of hand. If you’re here, then you have seen for yourself the effortlessness in which the company, and its president are slowly issuing their vision of change. That much is undeniable, and so we, the Neo-Democritans seek are working towards changing democracy, re-birthing it into a public-serving assistant to help the world stay calm during the coming years. We think we have had enough chaos.
Some of our social programs that we have established so far in the colony are; a police force; basic judicial legislation and trial system, and our most proud achievement: contractual obligations within Market exchanges. We have this and so much more planned during this new term. I, along with the rest of ND, hope you will join us in pushing forward a new style of governance.
Best regards,
Retinue
[“Neo-Democritans” have invited you to join their factions]
[ACCEPT] [REFUSE]
Yeung-Sung held his finger over the text until it selected everything, then promptly copied the contents into the Wick chat.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
As amusing as it was, Yeung-Sung was genuinely interested in their Airgead professions, so he left the current conversation continue below and scrolled back up, reading through the answers to his question. Just about everyone had given a form of answer, each with their own personalised font. Yeung-Sung wasn’t paying much attention before, but the differences were drastic.
Darnes answered first, the first time Yeung-Sung had seen him type in the group. His font was a thick Gothic on a background of oak.
He doesn’t wear those suits just for show then, he’s savvy. He caressed the small swelling in his arm. And ruthless.
Steph’s font was similar but more subdued, with even his capitals rising to the size of Darnes’s lowercase monuments.
Shirley’s words reflected his current career, bright yellow letters etched from hollow wood. Beside Wil though, most of them looked rather plain. Wil didn’t care for authenticity. His font was bombastic and wobbly. It’s basically Comic Sans.
Chuckling along, Yeung-Sung realised he was chewing. He didn’t remember taking a bite, but now that he had, he forced himself to finish. It was dense and salty, and definitely contained nuts. It’s not all that bad. Scrolling past the next few arguments, he looked out for the next time somebody explained their Airgead profession. Wil never did, strangely. He also didn’t reveal what Shirley meant by “research”. They let the other topics of conversation flood over it and the next ones to actually give him information was Hans and Fenrick, re-joining the chat after Yeung-Sung had dumped his invitation letter from the Debaters. Hans’s type sparkled with the golden glow of wealth, whereas Fenrick had possibly the simplest font of the Wick regulars; a New Times New Roman on a clay tablet, his sentences tight and clear.
Yeung-Sung ignored the rest of the conversation to examine Sykes’s text. Where his own words were stickmen in an art gallery, Sykes’s font was, for lack of a better term, next level. Over a glittering pitch of black, his words were animated, prismatic colours describing the details of each letter. It was still legible, but definitely a psychedelic distraction. How do they do that?
A single word was reposted by each member; “Aisling”. Sykes had some additional information.
He withdrew from the screen with downcast eyes. All of them are there, right now. Evening had crept in around the walls of his apartment, the light that remained highlighting nothing in the room except the tall spire of shadow, Yeung-Sung curled up in his chair. And I’m here, alone.
Not that I am lonely.
If I could be truly alone, just nature and me away from society, from idiots and their games, I would be content with that. Here, however, I am not really alone. I’m periodically isolated, yes, but I still participate within the culture that I disagree with. I could leave. And maybe that’s an option, but it’s very possible that I’d die. Then I maybe I should change things. Set an example. Live in protest, denying the norms. But that hasn’t done me much good. So what am I going to do?
Yeung-Sung sat with his chin forward on his knees. Just to see what it looked like, he had filled up a glass of water and poured in the GLI “soil”. He sat still staring at it in the gloom of another night in the colony. He watched the unassuming water be set upon by a horde of the brown granules, battling in a mini maelstrom. The dirt dissolved, the water gradually accepting it into its liquid borders until it became neither substance; a new mixture, neither solid nor liquid, that filled both thirst and hunger together. Once it settled, Yeung-Sung played with the glass, pushing it away -towards-away-towards. Bracing his lips, he took a taste in one swift motion. He winced and gagged and spat out the thick sludge.
Scraping his chair back, he reclined against its back with his head tilted up and moaned. I can’t wait. If this is change, I don’t want it. But I can’t wait it out anymore. What if the person who succeeds Jordan is even worse? He shuddered at the thought, feeling fresh sweat be held on to his skin by a bandage.
The light of Airgead sprung forward onto the ceiling. Closing his eyes, Yeung-Sung felt around with his hand for the phone. Once he felt it against the back of a finger, his hand tensed and pounced on the phone like a spider.
Yeung-Sung got up from his chair. I’m surprised they haven’t told him already. Awkward. Through the current lighting, his window was perfect as a mirror and he stared into it, taking in fully the sight of his wounded figure. Did something happen to me? You could say that.
{Jordan attacked me -
[Message deleted]
What? He typed it in again to the same effect. Trying numerous things, he found only one form that was accepted.
Yeung-Sung flipped to his Airgead queue, then to the market, and smiled.
He brought the glass of “soil” to his lips again and drank it wholeheartedly, wiping his mouth as h finished. He brought it down with a crack!