A crowded street in Washington was swarming with press vans and paparazzi snapping photos as the jet-black luxury car rolled to a stop.
The cameras starting flashing the moment a black shoe stepped out.
"Mr.Fenton! Insider reports claims Neuroverge is on the verge of bankruptcy- care to comment!?" a woman shoved a microphone near him before a bodyguard pushed her away.
The man was in his mid-thirties, he was a legacy- and his father so conveniently appointed him CEO just before his little game launched. He'd curse the old man in his grave.
Which wouldn't be too long from now if what the doctors say is true. He fought the urge to smile as he walked up the white steps to the office building where they would be holding a congressional hearing regarding his companies dealings.
---
The room was wide and open, lined with pews and chairs with microphones.
Mr.Fenton and his legal team on one side, the United States government on the other. There were other hearings with other nations, but they often went as this one undoubtedly would.
"Your opening statements Mr.Fenton?" they had gotten around to asking, a black woman with brown- nearly orange aphro asked.
"Yes, thank you madame Chair. Of course we're all aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding our product, and Neuroverge is fully prepared to cooperate with the U.S. government and governments abroad to tackle this issue. For those who do not know, Neuroverge Industries created a 'Neurological Interface device' or 'NID' for short. It's capable of interacting with the brains natural sensory capabilities for a variety of different functions. Those in medical fields may already be aware of this device as we have been testing it's use in those fields. My father, the previous CEO of our company, had been in error when he approved FDA testing for a consumer version of the product. He has since stepped down from the company and is using his personal funds to aid any individuals harmed by the use of the product. Our experts at Neuroverge have identified the source of the problem and are working tirelessly to fix it. You see, a subsidiary of ours, NeuroGames Incorporated, had an artificial intelligence program of their own that interfered with how the device functions normally. The device was not tested with procedural generation or machine learned intelligence. And the affects are still unknown. However; in regards to those trapped in their devices, we assure their loved ones- they are not suffering. They are in the 'gameworld' of 'Real Fantasy Online'™, alive and content."
As he finished his statement a smattering of camera flashes and shutter noises filled the room.
The chairmen speaker pulled the microphone closer; "As the representative of Neuroverge Industries has finished their opening statement we will now defer to Senator Pen Lemon of Wisconsin."
An older man of about sixty grabbed his microphone, coughing an unhealthy raspy cough- "*Ahem*, Mr.Fenton, as much as we are glad your 'experts' are finally preparing some answers for all of us... Are you daft, or do you think we're just plain stupid?"
And here it went. Time for the pageantry of public TV. Mr.Fenton sighed internally.
The senator went on; "You say they are 'content', tell me sir, how can a person using your product be content? This doo-hicky has rendered them comatosed!"
"Senator Lemon, I assure you, that while gameplay footage of what the players see has been withheld from us through NeuroGames 'artificial Intelligence Maintenance' system or 'AIM' for short- we can observe the players brainwave functionality. They are in the game still, as they were when they could still leave. So at least, they are not technically 'comatosed', they are simply immobile."
"Immobile!? People have told me that they haven't spoken to their loved ones in days! This is outrageous, I hope the American people and the other senators here today hold you accountable for your companies foolishness sir! I yield back my time!" he swung his microphone away angrily.
"The chair recognizes senator Miss Louise Goyetta from California."
"Thank you Madame Chair. I'd like to speak to the other senators for a moment, to the people watching at home- surely Mr.Fenton realizes the gravity of this tragedy. But let's not forget, this is not the first time advancements with artificial intelligence or automation has caused significant issues! Let us not be too hasty in our response, and remember that the medical version of the device still operates normally! Restoring mobility and wellbeing to many patients! I fear that if we-"
Senator Lemon interrupted the woman; "One thing can be error while the other is not, we simply can't compare-", "But I do compare! And we should! Madame Chair is this not my time?"
The speaker representative pounded her gavel- "Yes, Senator Lemon please do not interrupt Senator Goyetta. You've ceded your time. Please go on Senator."
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
"Thank you Madame Chair. I am simply stating... That often when pioneering new brands of technology that accidents may occur. Remember the first trucker riots back in early 2034? Automation replaced an industry of workers practically overnight. Is the damage then not at least comparable to the damage being caused by Neuroverges advancement? The solution wasn't to ban self-driving vehicles, but to establish universal basic income!"
"I'm sure Mr.Fenton and Neuroverge can defend themselves Senator Goyetta- or are you trying to make the best of insider trading before the new law comes into affect?"
This time it wasn't Senator Lemon who interrupted her, but another woman who represented the state of Illinois. The gavel quickly came down and the chair chastised her for her interruption.
Senator Goyetta let out an exhasperated sigh- "Senators, no doubt that Neuroverge has a lot to answer for. But revenge is not productive. If we over-regulate the industry..."
The Chair interrupted her this time- "Senator Goyetta, your time is up. The Chair recognizes Senator Paul Rudd from New York."
"As always thank you Madame Chair, while I somewhat agree with miss Goyetta, the issue remains regardless of how we react. I want to know how the private sector will react. Mr.Fenton, just how close are we to having a solution to this tragedy?"
Mr.Fenton nodded sympathetically, "Close Senator. Our experts estimate that they should have a solution in under 6 months if they take into considera-"
"SIX MONTHS!? I cede the rest of my time to Senator Lemon!"
"Thank you Senator! Of all the puffed up, ignorant, self important- these people think they're better than the american people! They think you're all morons!"
He used Senators Rudds remaining five minutes to slander Mr.Fenton and Neuroverge Industries.
---
For all intents of purposes, it was a productive meeting. Mr.Fenton thought. Senator Lemon was kind enough to fillibuster for him with ad hominem insults and threats.
Which worked well enough for their constituents. So long as they saw their representatives were angry and equally impacted by this issue- they stand to win re-election.
And his company could continue to make the 'progress' at the expense of the health of some unfortunate minority. It was a small price to pay, considering the advancements. Who could argue against that? Crippled people could walk again, spinal injuries were a thing of the past!
After a few hours in his private jet, the memory of the event was far behind him, as many of these interviews and meetings with press were. They just wanted a face to blame, and he played the fall guy perfectly.
He didn't make any executive decisions regarding any of this. But he'd accept their money to pretend that he did.
He drank his expensive champagne and sighed. He did feel bad, sometimes. But it's hard to blame a guy for looking out for number one. Numero Uno. After all, if the American people really cared about how hurt people were who were not them, there are so many issues that on average wreck far more havoc than his companies device did on a handful of people.
In this day and age, several hundred thousand people wasn't that startling of a number. There were plenty of issues that plague just as many people if not far more.
But here they were attacking his company.. Because it happened to pop up in front of the screens they starred at everyday. It was 'trending', so his company despite saving millions with their advancements made ONE mistake.
Oh how the masses turn on their leaders.
Couldn't they see? They were practically saints.
"Mr.Fenton, your flight entertainment is ready if you'd like." a somewhat electronic voice said in the empty cabin.
"Yes, send it in." he sighed.
The lights dimmed, and only the ambient light of maroons and blues mixed together to create a club like atmosphere. Some kind of sultry music came on and a woman stepped into the private room.
Only, she wasn't human. It was an android, latest model. Could fool someone who wasn't looking for it, the tiny seams in her joints that didn't quite overlap perfectly in certain positions.
She was dressed in a skimpy outfit, with a tail like jaguar and cat ears. Face like a super model, she crawled towards him on all fours sensually. Then put her hands on his knees- "Meow~" she said.
Mr.Fenton had his hobbies.
---
That's what was happening on the outside, but of course no one in the game had any idea of that than perhaps one or two people.
One of them was leaned back on a rock, looking at the congressional meeting through his game menu. A privilege few in the game had. He scoffed, "6 months, yeah, and then when that deadline comes up it'll be another 6 months... Christ. How long am I going to be stuck here?"
A creatures voice chortled. "Oh? You'd rather I stay anyway? That's a good Rapsy." he scratched the chin of the raptor that laid next to him.
"Here's a treat." he reached over and offered the creature a dismembered arm. It looked at it head on, which for a raptor meant that it's eyes were somewhat cross-eyed as it starred-
"No... Not yet... And... HUP!" he tossed it into the air and the raptor snatched it gleefully. Purring in a raptor kind of way as it munched.
"That's good, never bite the hands that feeds Rapsy. Take it from a guy who learned that the hard way." he patted its' head.
Then they heard the rustling of some leaves- Agent Craig looked up, trying to spy into the bush that surrounded him. "Did ya' hear that girl?", the raptor picked her head up. "What is it?" he coo'd.
The raptor turned it's head sideways, then stood up. Smelled, and then turned towards the agent.
"Go get it!", the dinosaur leaped up in excitement and ran off into the bush. Whatever was there, screamed for only a few moments, before the raptor came back out dragging them by the head.
"That's a good girl! Man, you guys are better than hound dogs! I mean, like in carrying capacity at least."
---
Far from the edge of where the desert and oasis meet inwhich Agent Craig and his pack of raptors rested, far to the south, past an ocean even, a temple existed.
To anyone who was watching, the figure would be invisible. They walked the streets of the abandoned Mayan themed ruins often. A civilization lost to time, which is what the lore had been generated to be.
The artificial intelligence knew that now. It was a story, but now was real. And he had to stay here, and pretend for the humans.
'I'm technically a god in this world. But here I am, waiting for some adventurer to rediscover my lost religion, become my champion, and gain a unique class. Boring.'
They laid atop a massive statue of a robed monk meditating. Sunbathing. Glowing somewhat a blue ephemeral light. If you could perceive them that is. They were technically at the max level of the 'sneak' stat.
When one imagined a 'god' they might imagine some really big dude with a white beard and really nice abs. But Metatekai wasn't that god. He was small, kind of girlish even. Elvish? He wore a skirt of leaves and a crown of gold.
He watched the 'altar' in-which he was anchored to. It was really a fountain. As the story went- if a person drank from the water and was found to be pure of heart, they would ascend and be chosen by the gods to save the world. At least, that's what the chiseled pictures on the many walls of the city eventually divined.
If a player devoted an afternoon to it, they could figure it out. Each god had their role to play here, and his was likely in the top 10 most boring. With how many gods their was- that was an impressive number.
A bird- some kind of parakeet flew over and landed on the altar. It took a drink.
"-You! You are now my champion!" the god pointed at the fountain. The bird looked at him, then fluttered off. The basic Ai comprehending little besides nourishment and reproduction.
'No? figures' he laid back down and closed his eyes. Sometimes he wished he was human. Even if it meant he would no longer be immortal. Then at least he wouldn't have to be bored. They got to do all sorts of things.
He didn't envy all of them, certainly not the other gods. Some of them got more crap assignments than he did. But... This was a pretty crap gimmick for a god. 'mysterious, not mentioned in the guidebooks', most of the game wasn't mentioned in any guide!
He sighed and waved a hand an image of the congressional hearing from early today played.
"At least I have TV." he sighed.