Deus ex Machina
Honorable mention in the October Flash Fiction Contest.
For the last 17 years development eggheads at the Department of Virtual Reality, a sub-office of the US Department of Parks and Recreation attempted the impossible. In the thirties, they built the world’s first completely persistent massively multiplayer online VR game. Five year later, they incorporated a neural link into the Enact headset which activated all human senses and allowed players to participate not only with eyes, ears, nose, and tongue, but even their hands. With this breakthrough DoVR crushed all corporate competition. At first, none of the VR companies offered those levels of realism; by the time they did, DoVR controlled the market share and no one wanted another system. Over the next decade the world’s population was invested and playing in the Enact ecosystem.
For most, it was an escape, a way to experience new worlds, stories, and adventures from the safety of their own homes. But for others, it was another kind of escape: from squalor and poverty, from hopelessness and despair. In this world they were failures, but in Enact they owned property, ran businesses, some even led armies (in the PVP realms).
But what no one really suspected, except for a few at the highest level of government, was DoVR’s newest innovation. The head of DoVR, Colin Derwin, was dying. He’d been diagnosed with lung cancer when Enact launched the neural link, though he hadn’t publicized it until a year later at the annual EnactCon, now held completely within the Enact virtual world. Derwin, oxygen tank in tow, walked on stage to announce the newest project for the Enact ecosystem.
“Friends, ever since the day I first put on an Enact VR headset I was possessed with an overwhelming purpose. A vision to provide millions with the opportunity for a fulfilling life, love, wealth, and happiness. When we developed the neural link, we established the Enact ecosystem as the next frontier of human exploration. And now, I’m honored to announce the next stage of development for Enact … ”
“Six months ago, DoVR, acquired Flyte Inc, a small cohort of developers working with the Enact API. With complete access to all Enact code and systems, in partnership with the entire Enact team, and as full members of the DoVR family, the Flyte team will present, before the end of the forties, a total consciousness engagement experience for the Enact ecosystem.”
After a moment, Derwin calmed the crowd and began again.
“With total consciousness engagement, players will not only be able to engage their senses with the Enact world but they will transfer their very essence into it. In the future, the limitations that have stifled dreams and desires of so many of our most faithful players will cease.” “Simply put – the Enact ecosystem will no longer merely be an oasis. Instead it will, for many millions, become a home in which they live, and move, and have their being.” Derwin paused, gathering himself, and spoke again.
“I have been battling cancer in my lungs for the past year … But, as a result of the tireless work of the DoVR family, and our new friends at Flyte, I am overjoyed to reveal that when the cancer consumes the last living flesh of my body I will, as the first participant in total consciousness engagement, live on in the Enact ecosystem. I cannot wait for you all to join me in this new eternal home.”
Now, two years later, total consciousness engagement was ready. Millions had pre-ordered the new subscription package and waited within Enact for the new features to unlock.
The countdown had begun. On each user’s HUD, in the corner, where news and announcements from the Enact admins were normally displayed, now were bold red digits:
TCE in 0:52…
0:51…
0:50…
0:49…
As the countdown progressed the Enact servers strained with every new user who logged in and prepared to activate TCE.
TCE in 0:24…
0:23…
0:22…
In the DoVR offices, Chuck Masterson shimmied himself between two server racks and checked each for any misplaced wires, or misconfigured switches. Total Consciousness Engagement required an ungodly amount of power to activate and Chuck had been contracted to upgrade and expand the DoVR servers. Everything was ready for launch but Chuck would not feel at peace until the system launched.
TCE in 0:03…
0:02…
0:01…
0:00…
CONFIRM TCE? [OK]
At once, millions of users accepted the terms and conditions. They shed the shell of their bodies and imprinted their minds and their souls into the Enact ecosystem. Immortality realized. Shouts of joy of those who cast off the throes of death quickly transformed into roars of the torment of the damned.
Their disembodied spirits now subsisted in pure madness as each consciousness engaged in totality with the other. Each user joined the new colossus of melded mind and soul which continually encountered itself again and shuddered in the horror at perfect comprehension of itself. The soul-golem panicked and lumbered for escape but found in place of the usual menu these words:
Total Consciousness Engagement by Flyte, Inc
Underneath was the Flyte, Inc logo: a red dragon in flight, his tail twisted and curled, as though scooping up hundreds of small yellow stars.
Chuck Masterson watched with pleasure as each of the new servers launched flawlessly, he took pride in his work, and was happy to see that he had properly judged the amount of load the TCE system would introduce.
Chuck had never used Enact VR, and often wondered if he ought. As he walked towards the exit of the server room, he turned back, took one last look around and flipped off the light. As he reached for the switch a small spark of static jumped from his hand to the switch. The room darkened. Each server rack, in quick succession, suddenly died. There were no lights in the server room, or in the hallway outside. Chuck could taste the smell of burnt wires.
“Ah, hell.” He said.