“No, I would not like to try again.” Ethan cursed again as he swiped at the glowing words before him.
The letters immediately vanished and were replaced by new ones.
Thank you for playing Worldshift!
Those words then dissolved, and the darkness gave way to light. Feeling returned to Ethan’s now completely healed—if somewhat stiff—body. With a sigh, he reached up and removed the visor from his head. It was a small black device that covered his eyes and ears. Most of it was just for show, since the actual VR system connected wirelessly to an implant at the base of his skull. The headset simply boosted the signal and informed anyone who happened to stumble by that the user was hooked up to the net. It also acted as a safeguard. Removing the helmet would end the interface.
Ethan sighed as he sat up and stretched. The sofa was soft beneath him. “Cranks. I can’t believe I messed that up. That place looked like it contained some epic loot.”
Every time a user died in the Chaotic Plains, they were teleported back to the gate at the entrance, which meant it was impossible to return to the same spot since the plains shifted and moved about. The entire special level was randomly generated. It was why Ethan loved it. There was nothing more exciting than not knowing what lay ahead, even if running through more predictable dungeons usually led to more rewards.
Now that he was offline, Ethan felt his stomach grumble. Players didn’t feel sensations from their real bodies while in a game, but they were still there.
“That’s enough Worldshift for me,” Ethan remarked as he stood. “I need to put something in my stomach.”
His apartment wasn’t very big, so Ethan was out of his room and into the kitchen within seconds. The touch-display screen on his fridge flashed a colorful advertisement for fast food that could be delivered by drone within fifteen minutes, but he ignored it and popped the fridge door open. He then pulled out a protein drink and scoffed it down. Idly, he noticed his fridge was almost empty. That meant he’d probably get a grocery delivery soon. Using data based on past purchases, internet searches, and his credit information, his fridge was set to automatically restock itself. Its owner didn’t need to do anything but give it permission and the occasional bit of feedback.
While he was drinking, Ethan walked into his living room and looked out the window. Rows of modern grey townhouses ran along both sides of the street. Everything was clean and there were manicured lawns and healthy trees in front of every building, but the similarity of the buildings gave everything a drab look. There also wasn’t a single person in sight, although a delivery drone occasionally zoomed by overhead. Still, the warm sunlight coming down from the cloudless, blue sky cheered Ethan up a bit. As he watched, a garage door opened, and a saucer-shaped lawnmower drone rolled out to cut the grass.
The telephone poles lining the road each had cameras on them. The devices were small and discrete, but they could see everything that happened on the street. Not that there was a lot to see. It was mostly machines watching other machines, although they’d been installed so the government could study what people were doing in public and where they went. Officially, they did this so they could better plan government programs. In reality, the cameras were mostly used to find and eliminate unregulated commercial activity. The Bureau of Economic Harmony took its mandate to police dangerous technology and prevent harm through unfair trading seriously. Only licensed corporations could engage in commerce. Even barter between private citizens could land them in trouble.
“I may as well check my prospects,” Ethan muttered sourly as he walked toward his large-screen television. The device was mounted on his wall, and it automatically turned on at his approach.
Ethan sighed as he looked at all the icons on the screen. Reality was annoying. “Techhub. Open email and show items marked as employment.”
Immediately, a list of emails appeared. Several of them were unread, so Ethan pointed at the top one and gestured. It opened, and Ethan began reading.
We regret to inform you that we’re currently not hiring anyone from your educational tier. We do, however, encourage you to try again later or to seek further education levels to increase your prospects.
“I already have a bachelor’s degree from a good school. Why would having higher than that help me in an entry-level sales position?” Ethan muttered darkly.
Getting into graduate programs was incredibly difficult. Admission was competitive. While in college, Ethan had gotten good grades, but he hadn’t been able to muster the effort needed to get the near perfect scores required to get into a graduate school. The rat race had just seemed so destructive and pointless to him. He hadn’t had any connections at the school or in the government who could pull strings for him either. It was an open secret that the well-connected almost always got into the programs they wanted, regardless of their grades.
The next mail was from the local government office of Unity City, which was where Ethan lived. Unsurprisingly, it was also a rejection. It was another open secret that government jobs were practically hereditary these days. Connections were everything. Ethan swiped through the next few replies, but they were all rejections.
Although almost everything else in people’s daily lives was run by predictive algorithms that functioned almost perfectly, jobs were still hard to apply for. Ethan had no doubt that was on purpose. It gave people hope and something to work at, even if the hope was false and the effort was wasted.
He sighed again. “At least I’m not going to starve or have to mooch off relatives. I’ve still got my basic income.”
In accordance with the UETO rules, every citizen in the country was entitled to draw a basic income from the state. Heavy taxes on the almost completely automated economy allowed the government to afford extremely large social programs. Ethan hadn’t had a job since he’d gotten out of school, but he could still afford his apartment. In fact, the majority of people didn’t work, and yet they were able to afford the comforts of modern society. The entire block Ethan lived on was for people on basic income, and it wasn’t a bad place to live.
“Techhub. Show news stream,” Ethan told the smart television. He needed to distract himself from his continued failures. Sigh.
A smiling man in a suit appeared on the screen. He was seated at a desk, talking to the camera. Even though the technology existed to create virtual avatars that were indistinguishable from real people, they were almost never used. Television personalities had managed to hold on to their jobs by applying pressure to the government. Replacing people with virtual personalities had been outlawed, except in a few rare situations. Many prestigious—but not totally necessary—jobs remained for similar reasons. The powerful and the influential had simply made the technology that could replace them illegal.
“Bill J-23B was introduced to congress earlier today,” the man explained in a neutral yet cheerful tone. “It seeks to address the rise in drug use and the resulting surge of overdoses by making health monitoring sensors mandatory in all homes. Several groups have raised privacy concerns, but it is expected to easily gather the necessary votes to pass through the chamber. Already, several congressmen from both major parties have said they support it, as it would also help with the obesity epidemic the country is facing.”
“That has nothing to do with me,” Ethan remarked as he switched through the channels. There were about a dozen national news channels, but they all covered the exact same stories in the exact same way. The powerful people would do what they wanted, and Ethan’s opinion didn’t matter. Sure, he could vote, but it only allowed him to choose between a bunch of politicians who agreed on almost everything anyway.
“There’s nothing interesting on the news anymore.” Ethan sighed. Even the international news was boring. The United Earth Trade Organization controlled almost all the world. Over the years, every stable nation had been absorbed into their organization and accepted their control, so there was no real conflict anymore. Its elite had used the wealth from automation to provide the population with basic income while they kept the power and jobs for themselves. Still, Ethan wasn’t going to complain about prosperity and world peace…
As Ethan sighed and took a moment to think, he happened to stop on a station where a commercial was playing. It featured an Asian woman in a suit standing on a street corner as people walked by. There was a pleasant smile on her face as she spoke to the viewer. “And remember, if you spot disharmonious behavior that isn’t illegal, please do your part and report it to a trusted activist group. All of society needs to be a harmonious space. Letting selfish behavior exist always leads to the most vulnerable among us being hurt.”
“Harmony is our strength. This message was brought to you by Caring People Against Selfishness, a trusted harmony activist group,” a male voice said as the commercial came to an end.
Ethan made a face as he turned the news off. He wasn’t a huge fan of harmony ads. He knew harmony was important to society. It kept everyone content and prevented violence, but he didn’t like it being shoved in his face. Also, the people who always went on about it tended to be super annoying.
Ethan was tempted to browse the web for more interesting news, but he knew he was unlikely to find anything. Like television, the web was tightly controlled by the corporations that ran the search engines, servers, network infrastructure, and the financial institutions. The Bureau of Economic Harmony shut down everyone who didn’t have a license. They claimed only licensed companies had the resources, connections, and integrity to find the truth and not spread lies. Anyone who tried independent journalism was swiftly reported by harmony activist groups for their selfishness.
Harmony activists were ruthless in routing out disharmony from society. They were also everywhere. You never knew who was one, either online or in the real, and one word from them could get you investigated by the police or blacklisted by concerned corporations. The activist who reported you would then get a reward from the corporations or government for their effort. They might even get a job offer, although that wasn’t a path Ethan wanted to take.
As Ethan considered his options, a cartoon owl appeared on the smart television. It flapped its wings and hooted once before speaking in a goofy masculine voice. “You have fifty-four social media notifications on three platforms. Would you like to look at them?”
The owl was Ethan’s system avatar, and its name was Mr. Featherbottom. He’d chosen it years ago, when he’d been a child. Everybody had one, and they could completely customize it at any time. Most people changed their childhood avatar when they got older—hot babes or sexy men were always popular—but Ethan had stuck with his owl.
“Ah, no. Ignore all social media,” Ethan said with a roll of his eyes.
He didn’t feel like talking to anyone. He still had some friends from school he kept in touch with, but he’d grown somewhat distant from them. You could only do so much through impersonal electronic communications. Either they’d found jobs at a big company and no longer wanted to hang out with him, or they were still unemployed and had grown reclusive, living in grey housing that cut its own lawns and vacuumed its own floors. Ethan wasn’t feeling social anyway. It was just that… nothing of importance had changed since he’d logged on last, a week ago. All the days blended together, since he didn’t really ever do anything in the real world…
Suddenly, Mr. Featherbottom hooted again. Ethan glanced back up to see the Worldshift logo appear next to the cartoon animal.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Hey, Ethan! There is a priority notification from the Tekko corporation to remind you that the first Worldshift realm event starts later today,” the owl announced happily with a little dance. “After the Tower of Ascension update goes live, there will be new features and prizes for participants. You will also have a chance to win both in-game items and real-world money, including a ten-million-dollar grand prize!”
“As if I could forget that,” Ethan told the screen as he rolled his eyes again. He’d been bombarded with reminders about the event all week, both in the real and online.
He was looking forward to the event, but he didn’t feel the need to start playing it the moment it went live. Sure, it was technically a race, but he didn’t stand a chance of winning anyway. He would probably start playing once the initial rush was over. It would be less hectic that way, and besides, he’d been using the VR system too much lately. It was terrible for his health being online all the time. Humans need real-life exercise. Ethan didn’t want to become another obese VR addict. Society was full of enough of those already. Ethan suspected VR was the reason he’d never seen most of his neighbors. They had basic income, and drones delivered everything they needed, so they never had to go outside.
Feeling annoyed for some reason he couldn’t pin down, Ethan walked away from the television. He threw his empty can in the recycling and wandered back to the window. There, he was once again confronted by the rows of grey townhouses, although this time he got to see a white car drive by. Yeah!
Unity City was much the same as every other city in America. It used to have a different name, but it had been renamed in order to better promote harmony years ago, like every other city. Old names reminded people of the injustices and disharmony of the past, so they’d had to go. The conformity was a little crushing, but Ethan didn’t want to be unappreciative of all the benefits society gave him. He was quite spoiled really.
Boredom weighed down on Ethan. He needed to go do something, but what? He could go for a walk. That was definitely a thing he could do, but where would he go? The only places within walking distance were the local corporate convenience store and a café.
Ethan didn’t need to go to the store, and the café near him was a part of the Value Cup chain. That wasn’t his favorite brand. There were a few other big chains that had cafés in other neighborhoods like his, and fancier areas had fancier cafés, but you never saw them competing in the same area. Ethan had no idea how it was decided which neighborhoods got which brands, but they seemed to do it somehow. Anyway, he didn’t feel like hanging out at a coffee shop. Even if he saw someone he knew, he wouldn’t have anything to say to them.
Should he go downtown? He could call a shuttle to take him into the city. There were lots more registered businesses and recreation facilities there that catered to people on economic support. He would have to avoid the work districts though. There, everything was a premium brand and way too expensive for him. It was ridiculous how much people would pay for a coffee, but that was far from the worst part. The people there looked down on anyone who wasn’t wearing the latest corporate fashions, which were way too expensive for anyone on basic income to afford. No, it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t need some smug snobs sneering at him just because their daddy had pulled some strings and gotten them a meaningless job pushing papers somewhere. What a bunch of—
Hoot! Startled by the unexpected noise, Ethan glanced back at the television. On the screen, his system avatar was flapping its wings to get his attention.
“The Tower of Ascension awaits the brave! Soon, its gates will be unlocked, Ethan. You should log in and prepare. It could change your life! Think about all the prizes you might win and all the new people you could meet.”
Perplexed, Ethan stared at Mr. Featherbottom. This was very unusual behavior for him, or any system avatar. They were programmed not to be aggressive advertisers, lest they annoy their owners and get turned off.
“Huh, Tekko is really pushing this event,” Ethan muttered to himself.
Tekko was one of the biggest companies in the world. They made practically everything electronic, and they obviously had some influence over his system’s avatar. Maybe his owl friend had a point though. It wasn’t like he was doing anything else important, and this event was obviously a huge deal.
“All right, I’m going! You can stop bothering me, Mr. Featherbottom,” Ethan said as he headed back toward his bedroom and the VR system it contained. On his way, he heard an excited hoot of acknowledgement from behind him.
Ethan sighed. His friends were probably online anyway. It seemed like everyone was playing Worldshift these days. Personally, it was Ethan’s favorite game, so he didn’t blame them. He’d gotten hooked on it after receiving a free trial for buying the latest neuro-implant from Tekko. Ethan knew he was playing it a little too much, but it was just so much more interesting than the real world. In Worldshift, he was free to accomplish things and take risks.
Ethan lay back on his bed. Once comfortable, he put the black visor over his eyes and pressed the activation button. Instantly, everything went dark and the Worldshift logo appeared. A moment later, he was suddenly bodiless and floating high above an undeveloped area full of plains and forests. It was a spectacular view. Clouds zipped by as he zoomed over a sea of green. There was a city off in the distance, but he was so high up that it was impossible to see details.
“Take me to Handon City,” Ethan told the empty air.
There was a humming noise, and Ethan’s surroundings blurred as the scene abruptly changed. Now, he was in the middle of a city made up of a diverse mix of buildings. Most of them were only two or three stories tall, but many of them supported huge video screens that were playing colorful advertisements. Behind the flashing screens, a bunch of tall apartment buildings rose into the sky. They seemed to almost sway in the wind, making them appear rickety and unsafe.
Looking around, Ethan smiled. Under the heat of the hot sun, everything looked dusty and worn, but it wasn’t broken or unclean. No, it was the grime of industry and activity. Ethan was standing on a platform that stood in the center of a small plaza. The plaza was full of colorful stalls where players had set up. As people appeared and disappeared on the teleportation platform around Ethan, merchants at the stalls yelled out to attract customers. Their prices weren’t the best, but they were the fastest way for players to buy or sell all the basic in-game commodities they got from hunting monsters and exploring the world.
Past the plaza rose a messy wall of buildings and billboards. Four wide streets cut through them, going in each of the cardinal directions. Players were everywhere. Swarms of them milled about the stalls and wandered up and down the roads. The players wore an incredible mix of different outfits and styles. High-tech armor contrasted with ragged cloaks and business attire. Off to Ethan’s right, a woman in a skin-tight suit that was decorated by circuitry was talking to a man in a cowboy costume. The entire place looked vibrant and alive. The air was full of energy as people called out to each other and went on with their business.
Still smiling, Ethan jumped off the platform. He never got tired of how alive this place felt. It was invigorating! Within Worldshift, everyone was constantly building things and challenging themselves. This entire city had been built by players, and it had a prosperous in-game economy.
Ethan landed on the paved stone and walked through the plaza, weaving through stalls and clusters of people until he made his way onto one of the roads. Here, both sides of the road were lined by shops with huge colorful signs advertising their services. More than a few of them had images of guns or swords that glowed with neon light.
Since the event would go live soon, Ethan needed to prepare, which meant visiting his favorite shop. He swerved away from a cart being pulled by two large flightless birds and then took a right down another street. A shop to his left had a sign above its door that showed a sun rising from behind a row of mountains. Ethan headed straight for it, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.
The room on the other side was decidedly old-fashioned. A long wooden counter ran along one wall, and wooden shelves containing a plethora of items filled the space. There was a woman behind the counter. She had long blonde hair and glasses, and she was dressed in conservative business attire. She also had a glowing yellow dot floating above her head to signify that she was an NPC. As a computer program, she wasn’t nearly as smart or adaptable as a real person.
“Hey, Jane. Is Harold available?” Ethan asked as he walked toward her.
The woman smiled politely. “Hello, Ethan. Welcome back. I’ll send Harold a message to see if he is online. Just wait a quick second.”
“No problem. I’ll just scan your catalog while I wait,” Ethan replied as he tapped his wrist device and opened the shop menu. The items on the shelves were basically just for display.
Worldshift was a game that went out of its way to make players do things for themselves. Thus, there was no centralized marketplace. Except for a few basic items that could be acquired from NPCs, everything was bought and sold between players. Very few complete items dropped from enemies as well, so players had to level-up their craft skills and make them themselves. This in turn led to many craftsmen opening shops, especially since a lot of crafting required a large workshop full of specialized machines. The result was a free-wheeling economy that required lots of work and investment but could be very rewarding. Players could make far more money by leveraging high crafting and setting up a business than by exploring and clearing dungeons.
Ethan was interrupted from his shopping by Jane’s voice. “Harold will be with you soon. He’s just in the back.”
“All right, thanks,” Ethan answered before turning back to the log. He hadn’t seen anything new yet, but he had nothing better to do while he waited.
It only took a few minutes for the shop’s owner to appear. The door beside the counter opened and a middle-aged man stepped out. He had a short-trimmed beard that was beginning to go grey and a scowl on his face.
“Ah, if it isn’t my most annoying customer,” Harold said as he walked toward Ethan. “Are you here to pick up some stuff for the big event?”
“Pretty much. I was wondering if you had anything new to show me.”
“I’ve been working on some new lifelines, but I don’t have anything useable right now,” the shopkeeper replied with a shrug. Harold was a craftsman who specialized in grappling gear, hookshots, and climbing equipment.
Ethan sighed. “That’s too bad. At least the ones I’m using right now are your usual good work.”
“Only good, eh?”
“Sorry, you’re the best there is in the entire game, and I mean that,” Ethan told him with a friendly grin.
Harold huffed in disbelief. “It’s amazing how the crafting system is set up. There are so many tools for item creation built into this game. It’s weird. When you get into the advanced stuff, then everything is customizable, and I mean everything. It’s like I’m creating a blueprint for a 3-D printer or something.”
“Except for all the game magic and super sci-fi technology.”
“Except for that, yes. Don’t think that makes it easy though. It’s super complicated stuff. I know a fair bit of 3-D design coding, and this is actually harder if also similar in a lot of ways. I don’t know what they were thinking making it so hard. I wouldn’t have the time to learn it if the game time wasn’t dilated and the learning software wasn’t so advanced.”
Ethan chuckled. “That’s how I feel about climbing, shooting, swordsmanship, and everything else.”
Worldshift was designed to be as realistic as possible. That meant operating the weapons in the game required players to know how to use them. For instance, shooting required real marksmanship skills. There were no shortcuts. Instead, the game software actually interacted with the player’s brain and helped it learn complex tasks faster. It was very advanced technology, and a bit creepy if you thought about it, which Ethan didn’t. The game time was also set up so that it went by faster than in reality. One hour in game was only fifteen minutes in reality, although that was standard in many VR games.
Harold snorted. “I certainly didn’t start playing with the intention of becoming a glorified rope salesman, but that’s what I am now. I just can’t stop tinkering.”
“You still do a fair bit of adventuring. It’s why your gear is so great, because you test it out yourself.”
Harold huffed in annoyance. “I spend less than half my time outside this shop.”
“Well, are you planning on joining in the event yourself? That seems like a good excuse to get out of the shop.”
“Of course I am. I’m not going to miss the chance to explore a completely new area the moment it gets unlocked.”
“Do you want to join up with me? It would be useful to have another expert climber along,” Ethan asked.
“I’ll keep you in mind, but the rumor going around is that the event won’t allow parties to enter together. Supposedly, everyone has to enter alone and find their own way up the tower.”
“Huh, that’s odd. I’ve never heard of an event like that in any game. Usually they encourage team play,” Ethan remarked in disappointment. He knew a few other players he’d been thinking about teaming up with. Although lately, many of his friends had stopped inviting him to join their parties. They complained he was far too reckless and wasn’t focused enough on winning or getting the best loot.
“I’ve heard it from reliable sources,” Harold assured Ethan. “It must be because of the prizes. Ten million could set someone up for life, so they don’t want players forming huge factions before the event even starts.”
“Makes sense, I guess.”
“Well, if that’s all you want to talk about, then I should get back to work. There is some stuff I’d like to get done before the event.”
“Fine, I’ll just talk to Jane about replenishing some of my supplies and selling off some junk.”
“Go right ahead,” Harold replied before turning and heading back through the far door. It shut with a solid thud behind him. When he was gone, Ethan walked to Jane’s counter.
“You’ll give me a discount for being a loyal customer, right?” he asked the digital character.
Jane shook her head and gave him a polite smile. “No, I reserve that for the cute boys.”
“Ouch!” Ethan laughed as he opened the store menu and began shopping. He wasn’t sure if Harold had taught her to say that or if it had come with her program.
Ethan quickly scrolled through his inventory and sold the items he didn’t need. He then bought some health potions, ammo, and a spool of Harold’s special lifeline to replenish the wire he’d used in the Chaos Plains. It was expensive but tougher and lighter than the regular stuff.
When he was done, he closed the interface and met Jane’s gaze. “Bye, Jane! Try to keep Harold from becoming too much of a shut-in.”
“No one can budge him when he’s working, but I’ll try,” Jane replied politely.
After a wave goodbye, Ethan headed back outside. There were a few people walking down the road and going in and out of the nearby shops, but he ignored them and tapped his wrist device.
“Teleport me to the Tower of Ascension,” he said aloud.