My knuckles cracked as my hands tightened around the handle of my sword. My eyes burned with animalistic determination beneath the shade of my helmet. My fiery gaze was cutting through my opponent, a titan of a man coated head to toe in black steel. The bloodied sands of the coliseum swirled between us in humid air, as the crowd cheered for an entertaining death from one of us. Beastly roars rang out from our throats, my feet launched sand behind me as I darted forward. Our swords collided and rattled the bones in my arm. I immediately fell to the ground, but my opponent’s considerable size helped him maintain his balance. He stood above me, sword hanging inches from my chest. My unarmed hands reached out towards him in desperation. A scream came to my lips but fell back down my throat. The large blade of steel was quickly plunged into my chest. Blood surfaced across my tongue, the crowd’s cheer melted away, my vision began to smear like a ruined painting.
GAME OVER
YOU ARE DEAD
TRY AGAIN BEN?
YES <NO>
I gasped for air and felt my heart pounding against my rib cage. Slowly and carefully removing the Virtual Reality Helmet from my head, I tried to gather myself and all five of my senses. It’s always a tough transition, from bleeding out to a boring bedroom. I’m often amazed at how real the dying still feels, even after all these times I’ve played. Thrills like that don’t happen in the real world, certainly not in my life. But that’s how the 2060s have been, nothing real. Every day is the same, wake up, bathe if I feel like it, VR until I sleep. That is, if I ever go to sleep. Of course, I simulate different stuff, spaceship battles, ninja infiltration missions, I even have a bomb defusing game. I eventually die almost every time I play, and sometimes I think that feeling is the only thing that’s keeping me alive.
Sometimes I wonder if the people who lived in the Old World were happy. If they truly lacked the technology we have, what did they do all day? They must have had their VR, had their thing that keeps them waking up every day. It’s such an abstract thought I often cram it deep into my brain. Take my apartment building for example, what would my neighbor Mrs. Corbin do other than watch her Auto-Mop dance across her kitchen all day? And how could the old man below me live without his endless loop of hologram concerts from the 2020s? I often laugh at these questions, but one more always follows. What would I do without VR?
When I realize the difference between the reality around me, and the fantasy I escape to through my helmet every night, I can find myself just staring out the window. Out at the many dark and bland skyscrapers that line every street, with their hundreds of windows, all individually glowing from the light of screens and machines inside. And those insides, are lonely, I never see more than one human per apartment window. Always accompanied by their devices, but never another beating heart.
When my doorbell beeped, nervous excitement ran through my legs as I hopped from the window sill. A person was at my door. All I would need is one conversation, just to remind myself that authentic human interaction still exists. I felt a grin come onto my face, as I brushed my hair from my eyes and opened the door to the hallway. Standing on the other side was a tall slender mailman. His smile was stiff and unmoving, his posture absurdly straight, and his skin an odd cream color. The mailman spoke painfully slow and clear. “Good morning…Ben…You have…one…mail item.” My smile fled from my face, and disappointment struck. Upon a closer look, I noticed the mailman’s pupils were a smoky grey color, a complete and undeniable signal that the person you are speaking with is an android. I snatched the pointless letter from my bank out of his hand and slammed the door in his face, watching him through the peephole as he, completely unprovoked, happily moved on to the next apartment. The androids have been around for a while, but most humans still aren’t used to them. They were originally invented to eliminate humanity’s need to work, but they are far from mindless slaves. I pass hundreds of them when I occasionally take walks outside. I try not to be afraid, but they worry me. They talk to each other so much, and get so much done, its like, some of them seem more human than we do. I hate thinking like that, but I need to think like that. It makes me anxious, and feeling anxious is better than feeling nothing.
It’s really hard to tell sometimes, who’s one of them and who isn’t. I’ve honestly found that authentic humans are hard to come by in the outdoors. So, on mornings like these I often find myself feeling desperate. I’m going to take the train today just for the hell of it, and perhaps I can find the scratch for this itch. I have to know if I’m the only one out there with this inherit desire to go outside and speak with other people.
As I stood on the train platform down the street from my building, I was completely surrounded in androids. I would rudely approach them and stare into their eyes, to ensure they lacked my living black pupils. They were always unfazed by my stare, and they would simply look through me, cold smiles still pasted on their faces. They were all heading to work, and programmed to get their on time. The train was arriving and I pushed through the many cold and stiff bodies to get closer. I slumped down into my seat with my eyebrows low, not a human in sight. I felt empty. Maybe I truly do need VR. Maybe I am but another plastic bag of wires. Am I just plugged into the wall like the rest? If I am a machine, I am hoping I short circuit.
Suddenly from a few seats up, I hear a strange “Choo!” And the sound of exhaling breath. A girl about my age lifted her head back up, recovering from her sneeze. My heart began to race, my back stiffened, and before I knew it I nearly shouted, “God bless you.” After a slight delay, the girl turned around, looked me in the eyes, with her living black pupils, and said “Oh, thank you.” I sat in silence with my mouth open. A sneeze. You wouldn’t program a sneeze. A sneeze is so human. I had seen this girl before, somewhere, maybe she lives in my building? I had to talk to her, I had to.
My legs lifted me on their own. The train began to slow down as we approached the next stop and I stumbled towards her seat. She scanned me with a nervous smile as she heard me approach. My voice began to speak on it’s own, and I felt as though I had never heard it before. “Hi, My name’s Ben. I’m sorry, I know this is strange but, would you like to get lunch with me today?” The air between our beating hearts was heavy. Not a single android looked towards us. My hands were soaked as I anticipated her answer, but her puzzled expression opened a pit in my stomach. She spoke as if I should have known her response, with one eye brow raised. “Umm sorry, but I don’t think SAM would like that.”
I tried to speak, I tried to say anything, but I knew my voice was dead. Limbs trembling, eyes watering, I did not have to hear another word. I quickly rushed off the train as it had conveniently been at a station, I did not look back to see her reaction. The faces of passing machines were blurred away by my tears. I was running, but I wasn’t sure if I was headed towards something, or away from everything. She chose SAM. Over my pumping veins, my breathing lungs, and my living eyes. She chose to be with him, a computer program, a Simulated Affectionate Male.
I simply should have stayed home. I finally had found the moment I was looking for, the person I was looking for, flesh, bones and all. And yet, her brain was also littered with wires and plugs. That was the first true feeling of excitement I have felt in a long time, so I suppose I owe her that, but my hopes for her depth were crushed either way. I should never have trusted that sneeze.
When I arrived back at my apartment, I was still crying over the death of humanity. I did not lock the door behind me, no one was coming. There is nothing an intruder could steal from me that they cannot get in VR. I sat down and powered up my helmet, shifting it’s visor over my eyes, while my tears still flowed beneath it. I played every game I own, and tried to seek out death in each one. In Sky Flyer, I plummeted my plane towards the ground instantly. In Bomb Squad Simulator, I chopped away at random wires until my disintegration. In King of the Mountain, I dropped my weapons, held my arms wide, and taunted the dragon until it cooked me to a pile of ash.
As I scrolled through the menu’s list of games, and potential deaths, I noticed a strange title I have never noticed. Hike Simulator. What is “Hike?” Confused, I decided to open the game. Immediately, I found myself facing the most blue sky I had ever seen. The wind gently brushing my hair relaxed me, and I went to sit on the ground and listen to the birds. However, my hand felt a strange substance beneath me, it was like hair, but sharper, more rough. To my complete amazement, the entire ground was covered in grass. I had never seen grass up close like this, and instantly dropped to my knees to take it in. It smelt amazing and tickled my fingertips. It did not feel cold, or reflect my sorrowful face like steel always does.
I rose to my feet to take in the scenery around me. Leaves flowed through the air, clouds danced across the sky, and mountains waved at me from the distant horizon. I kept catching myself smiling, my hands shaking, my feet would not sit still. Filling my lungs with the clean, pure air, I began to walk along the trail leading into the woods before me. Shadows from the trees enveloped my body, and the branches welcomed me to their beautiful home. There was no death in sight, only life. All I needed was life.
THOMAS MAZZAFERRO 