plot :: The Feed

Emmett's memory is a fragmented, crumbling imitation of what it once was - by choice.

And he's not alone. The Feed offers boundless freedom to whomever are connected; and this freedom has revolutionized the world. You can be anyone you want - you can have anything you want - on The Feed. The promise of opportunity and success has lead trillions of users opting for the free chip implants that are now commonplace at the time of birth.

But there are those who question this mysterious tech in a time where questions are no longer welcome. The Disconnected, a group of hackers who have slipped below Administrator radar, have been working on Project Berserk in the hopes that humanity can still be saved from the farce of freedom they believe The Feed offers.

A tough choice must be made as the future progresses; what would you sacrifice to live the life of your dreams?

Would you give it all?

"We are at the culmination of the future. The very precipice of technology as we know it." The shapely woman walked across the stage slowly, her heels sounding a satisfying "clack clack" as she reached the other side.

"20 years ago, we made augmented reality affordable for everyone. Within the year, there were a pair of SpeciView Goggles in nearly every home in America! From that moment, we changed the internet experience forever. 15 years ago, we promised smaller, lighter, more accessible Holocalling - and we revolutionized the hologram industry. Holocalling now fits in the palm of your hand, and loved ones from millions of miles away fit in your pocket.10 years ago, we answered your cries for crisper, more accurate holograms with Accuravision. We were asked to bridge the very connection between virtual and reality."

The woman breathed deeply, building tension. The sea of upturned, anxious faces in front of her fed her anticipation for the announcement.

"And now, after a long 10 year hiatus, I bring to you the fruit of our labor: The Feed."

The crowd in front of her grew silent as a magnificently bright screen displayed behind her, the color of the image showing through her hologram figure despite the strong lasers she ordered especially for this reveal. It showed the welcome page that would entrance billions over the coming years, a simple interface that required a username and a password. An underwhelmed confusion drifted through the crowd as she let the image sink in.

"I introduce to you, Techweek 2074, the beginning of an experience like none other. I would like each of you to reach under your seats - no peeking - and place on your face the thin glasses provided. There are 4 plugs: one for each ear, one for each nostril. It will become apparent which is which as soon as you put the glasses on."

A commotion stirred as each member plugged themselves in, a sea of people shuffling, groaning, and exchanging excited speech before the room went completely silent. Some of the viewers noted the hilarious apparatus that was now attached to their faces. The hologram of the woman at the front of the room paced the stage once or twice more before continuing, her gaze borderlining predatory as excited impatience burned in her eyes.

''You see, what we have here is not a hologram. It's not augmented reality. It isn't even virtual reality. What I bring to you is an experience so immersive..."

With a wave of her hand, many people fell from their seats at the sudden feeling of floating through the air. In front of them, with painfully sharp clarity, sat the seats and the tops of each other's heads as was plainly seen moments before: but now, the lot of them sat on a warm, sunny beach. The smell of the salty air overwhelmed their senses, the sound of soft trickling tides filled their ears. A warmth radiated from their seats, down from their toes, and up to their faces which now felt softly sunkissed. The woman, now standing in the sand a few feet away, smiled kindly. Her heels had been removed as she instead dug her manicured toes into the luscious sand beneath her feet.

"I bring to you a Hawaii wedding. Are you confused?"

The woman waved her hand in the air, the ocean falling away in a crash. Again, the confused audience clung to their chairs as the falling sensation continued.

"How about somewhere a bit less tropical....let's explore the tundra like no human ever has before!" The smell of crisp snow wafted about as a cold wind whipped through the congregation. The sensation was so astonishingly real that many audience members ran their fingers through their wind-tousled hair as if to make sure they were indeed real human beings sitting in a warm seat in the dead of a New Jersey summer. Comically, many members began flipping their glasses up to their foreheads and back down to the bridge of their noses, effectively toggling the experience on and off. A symphony of staccato gasps and exclamations prompted her next demonstration.

"Experiencing a limitless, collective, completely user-run universe is not the limit of The Feed. I bring you..." with a wave of her hand, the assembly fell into a large, well-lit classroom. The speaker's attire had changed to that of a professional lecturer, and each audience member found themselves in freshly pressed ivy-league university uniforms. The unmistakable scent of fresh paper drifted about, and the sound of quiet wall-muffled conversations created the correct depth of a large auditorium style classroom. "...the classroom of the future."

The audience, slowly coming to grips with the sudden change in surroundings, began a stunned applause in the pauses of her speech patterns. It became apparent that they could not only interact with the environment, but with each other just as they appeared in the real auditorium.

"Every student, regardless of economic background, location, or availability of school supplies, can have access to affordable top-of-the-line kindergarten-graduate level learning. One teacher. MILLIONS of students. No classroom. The home is now the classroom! But we are not satisfied!"

The crowd now clapped together, loudly cheering and hooting at her every pause. With one more wave of her hand, her following anxiously awaited one more wondrous demonstration.

"I bring you The Square!" Now, each member was standing on a cheery city sidewalk. The familiar feeling of standing on their feet played with their senses. Brick-for-brick, it appeared as a brand new city constructed yesterday with absolutely no weathering or graffiti. It was clear this city spanned for blocks and blocks, miles and miles...the depth of sound as wind gushed between buildings perked the imagination as to how large this city could be.

There were no other visitors, no cars, no taxis; the cheery spring day became almost eerie as the congregation came to realize they were the only inhabitants. As if picking up on the crowd's unease, she began filling the silence with her speech and a kind smile.

"Follow me. Feel yourself lift one leg after the other...just as you learned to walk in reality, you must learn to walk here." As the crowd began taking fawn-like steps behind her, she continued on. "The Square has the capacity to accommodate every human being who may want to use The Feed for entertainment purposes. This airy, empty square you see will become a bustling hub of shoppers, moviegoers, diners...if it can be imagined, it can be provided by The Feed."

After a short distance, she turned to face a blank, darkened shop window. "Who do we have here?" she questioned as the blank window morphed in front of the eyes of the audience, transforming into the storefront of one of the most well-recognized technology branches to date.

"Let's go in and take a peak, shall we?"

The crowd bustled about the shop, picking up items and feeling them between their fingers. The phones felt cold and smooth, brand new and still in the package. Laptops were powered on and even operated just as they would in reality. Without fear of theft, each audience member played with the tech from a limitless supply at the desk. Each audience member walked around, suddenly unaware of their virtual experience as they chatted amongst each other. The encounter was so immersive, the glasses toggling that had been going on earlier had completely stopped. A faint smile grew on her face as she realized the threshold had finally been broken.

The woman cleared her throat, the now elated crowd hanging on every word. "This is what The Feed can provide to you. The Feed can provide a boundless, interactive, and unimaginably cheap route of business. No matter what you sell, buyers can connect to The Feed, navigate to The Square, and experience your products first-hand before purchasing from a real, paid employee. Of course...these employees..."

A motion behind her produced three cheery young adults with perfectly cleaned and tucked uniforms.

"will be working from the comfort of their own homes. You can bring employment to the handicapped, the full-time students, even stay-at-home mothers seeking a midnight shift. You, the business owner, can directly monitor productivity, sales, and training without ever leaving your office. Your storefront will always be tidy, inviting, and easily changed or upgraded at your leisure."

The crowd erupted in cheers unlike ever before, the polite silence replaced by chattering and preparation for what would undoubtedly be the longest questioning period of Tech Week to date.

"Now, if you please, remove your glasses."

Reluctantly, each member removed themselves from The Feed. From behind the stage, a counter approached 0 as the last member disconnected before she continued.

"I bring to you all, The Feed. My newest and most fond creation yet. But, the unending possibilities of The Feed do not stop here...oh no. The Feed, my friends, my colleagues...The Feed is what you make of it. Welcome! Welcome to The Feed!"

ADMIN 7

Emmett sat back at his desk, his wrist cramping from the mass amounts of typing he had to do on this report. This old video had a horrible quality to it, it was hard to imagine that the crowd of hopefuls went crazy over simple hyper-realism like that. The hologram was laughable at best. Writing a thesis over the introduction of The Feed seemed a bit excessive after 15 years of successful operation. After all, he could barely remember a time before The Feed wasn't around.

The young man thumbed over volumes and volumes of books, videos and images in the Digilibrary before walking to the front of the room to a receptionist.

"Excuse me, m'am."

The woman opened her eyes, undoubtedly helping another student across campus somewhere before directing her attention to him.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for information on early Feed add-ons."

"Right away!" The woman ducked behind her desk and pulled up a ridiculous pile of paperwork. Emmett blinked at the wad of papers before grabbing the first five or six files and returning to his table.

Spread out in front of him, he began dragging his fingers over the words on paper to bring up video clips and immersive ads. Unfortunately, at the time most of these papers were written, immersive recording hadn't been invented yet: he'd have to settle for watching video clips rather than transporting himself into the moment.

"Introducing Parental Control!" Emmett stifled a laugh at the video of a ten year old boy stumbling into a Porn House on his first Feed visit. The video directly after that ad was "Hide your real age on The Feed with this nifty new download! $19.95 a month!"

Emmett raised an eyebrow at the next outdated ad: "Change your appearance. Be who you want to be for only 59.99 a month!"

Things had really changed since then. Now the Admins were patrolling all the time to cut down on Feed Crime...they could see right through these types of programs. No one was really masked. All of these downloads were essentially useless if anyone intended on doing any real dirty work.

It's not like they didn't let some things slide. Teens usually got away with most everything they did, so long as it caused no harm. Children were most likely rounded up and tattled on. Emmett frowned as he flicked his wrist around to read his medical bracelet - the medical information printed into the metal that would be floating above his head should an Admin walk by.

Absentmindedly, Emmett's attention drifted to his Feed Profile. In the past hour alone, alerts such as "Emmett has studied for 3 hours at UCMA Digilibrary!" and "Emmett has made a new acquaintance: Killian Quim! View Relationship". The idea that his mother or father could view in on her name and figure out that he accidentally bumped into her and flirted with her didn't even make him nervous anymore.

The Feed was a magical place. When he was a toddler, he'd have to wear glasses and earplugs to log into The Feed. Such an absurd idea made his head spin. How on earth had The Feed actually taken off with such a ridiculous logging apparatus? The implants made life so easy.

This research paper was unreasonably boring and needless, but if it did provide any learning, it was that technology had come a long way in a short time.

Thankfully.

Emmett's watched beeped, warning him that it was time to disconnect. He usually let the thing go off for hours, as did most young people, before heeding it's warning. Who wanted to go back to reality when there's so much to do here? Emmett silenced his watch with an add-on, the simple push of a button. But that's the question...why go back indeed? Back home there's nothing to do. It's so boring. Nothing he cared about or owned was at home. Sure, he had to go to the bathroom or eat...maybe work out a bit...but at the very first chance he'd hop right back on. He spent nearly 16 hours on The Feed every day, and he was one of the more casual users. During finals when everyone would be packed into the Digilibrary, the countdown for other students numbered in the days, not hours. There's no telling what starving, filthy body they would return to in reality; but they'd clean up and jump right back in. Sometimes it wasn't so glamorous...

The idea of going back did make him feel a strong sense of dread, like putting on a mask and going to work at a job he didn't care about. It was hard to believe that all they had just 15 years ago was that reality he dreaded being in. His parents were like that, a bit, always carrying on about how he had to work hard to keep his body and mind sharp so that he could carry on the family Adminship. Right now, he claimed the prestigious title of level 7 Administrator - 7 of 50 levels. At this time, he could technically patrol X rated stores to ensure Feed users with data showing under 18 didn't go inside. He could even disconnect rule breakers from The Feed on a whim, so long as he submitted the paperwork proving they had broken a rule. Level 50 Admins could permanently lock someone out of The Feed, but they mostly handled hacking cases...like his father. But that just simply didn't matter to him like it did to the older generation. Having a title, power, or even a job seemed to pale in comparison to his enjoyment of The Feed.

"I heard that!" the sound echoed in Emmett's mind, and he cringed.

"Mom, I'm just working on this repor-"

"I know exactly what you're doing." Her face now appeared in front of him as if projected on a screen only he could see. She looked stern but amused at his youthful ability to get lost in thought so easily. "Stop thinking that and get out here for dinner."

"Alright alright, just a second." Before he logged out, Emmett saved his report and his progress at the Library. By the time he'd go back after dinner, his table would probably be taken...but at least his comfortable nest of books, links, videos, and his Occulaptop wouldn't be. Just pick up and check out...and what a shame it was that he had to do it at all.

DISCONNECT

Her eyes burned for relief, but sleep was not an option. In front of her, a fellow revolutionary stared at the sky with glassy eyes. He'd been like this for days now, he seemed dead but his heart was still beating. That was the toughest part about her volunteer work: was he alive in there somewhere? Did he indeed die? Where did his Feed go when he did?

The tentative privilege she had obtained only two years ago still shocked her. She could think any thought she pleased - her mind could wander as far and into as dark of region as she commanded. The only trade off was going Offline - permanently. The scars of a sloppy outdoor surgery marred the back of her own neck, but she would trade a million scars for her life now. The Feed offers such boundless areas of exploration, but it was a farce. Give the people a fake sense of limitless freedom, and they'll never demand true independence. The dark, tantalizing thoughts of a free world pulled her deep into her own mind.

The thought of Berserk - and all she promised - was a welcome reprieve from the somber thoughts. This virus would be worth the sacrifice they've all made if the code held strong against the ever-strengthening firewalls. In recent tests on random subjects, Berserk not only disconnected their targets from The Feed, but physically destroyed the implants with a strong electric shock. Of course, there were many bugs to work out...namely the high death rate experienced by those "liberated" against their will. Being a Disconnected meant that, no matter the cost, they were all united against The Feed and the perversion of independence that it has caused.

"He's gone Static, hasn't he?" A young teen sat beside her, the campfire shining in his eyes. His sudden presence ripped her from her twisted thoughts so quickly that she jumped.

"I don't know." Was all she could muster, turning her patient on his side to look at his incision site. At the base of his skull, a small innocent-looking row of stitches marked yet another failed Feed removal surgery.

"You did what you could." He offered. "They put it in so many places in the brain now, it's hard to find them all. Last I heard there's a new chip behind the eyes after the last upgrade, so anyone born after last week will need that removed too."

"Why do they do this to their kids?" She felt bitter bile rise in her throat as she gently laid the dammed man back down. She well knew the answer, but the injustice of it all made for a lonely place.

"Everyone's on it, I guess. It's easier for babies to learn early than for adults to get the surgery done."

"But that's just the thing, isn't it?" She stood, her knees creaking painfully. The real feelings of fatigue, pain, and exhaustion were a constant reminder of her realness, the reality that she lived in: and she loved it.

"They want it that way. They want it so that you don't have a choice."

USER X

It was an old school looking hookup she had, but the programs she ran were unmistakably the best on the market. She still used a laser keyboard for some of the more abrasive intrusions - the familiar feeling of the table in front of her grounded her thoughts.

Her form in The Feed was quite unlike her form in real life: once in The Square, she was tall, elegant, and curvaceous with gently flowing blonde hair and attention-grabbing blue eyes. Even to the Admins, her bogus name and trumped-up profile made her seem powerful, rich, and attractive.

Just what she needed.

Men usually dropped their guard the fastest around her as she finagled her way into a botched body hop. To her surprise, when she was attractive, women even seemed to trust her and enjoy her company more easily. Her newest victim had just opened his ports to her, and with a short terms and conditions acceptance, she was inside his mind.

It was a simple bodyhop hijack. She could take his body if she wanted, keep his life for her own. But it wasn't his body she sought after...

He seemed more nervous with her inside, his thoughts flying around and assaulting her with their shaking suspicion. Hackings happened like this all the time, and it was very unwise to just let anyone in. Without much more fanfare, Lily began her work. First, get rid of the leech.

Simple enough task. He was so timid with the bombshell in his mind that it took mere minutes to put his mind into hibernation. He'd wake up in an hour in his starkly real body, locked out of the feed, cold, and angry. Now, his entire mind was hers for the taking: bank numbers, social security numbers, memories (if she were so inclined)...jackpot! He wasn't rich but he sure wasn't poor. He couldn't contest a couple thousand missing from his bank account even on the best of days.

Quickly, she drained what she wanted into a holding account offshore before disconnecting from his body and erasing this persona from The Feed entirely. Should she ever be caught, the punishments for Feed crimes were swift and heavy to prevent criminals just like her.

ADMIN 51

"We are at the culmination of the future. The very precipice of technology as we know it."

The images floated back to her, a fond memory of what she thought was her proudest moment. Things had changed so drastically in the past 20 years, give or take a few. The screen in front of her streamed with updates, inner workings, admin names...literally anything. Updates of deaths, births, profile creations, hackings, hookups, body hoppers, private messages, private thoughts, private moments. The hackers, the users, the leechers, the shoppers and sellers - right there. And the worst part: if she could see it, so could they.

The very idea of an intimate moment was a sham, a fool's hope.

Limitless possibilities. Limitless power. The old video feed she played from time to time looped again, pulling her gently from her thoughts. Her imaginary form walked across a very real stage, smiling, spewing ignorance.

"The Feed, my friends, my colleagues...The Feed is what you make of it." Her younger form smiled, her white teeth shining against her ruby red lips.

The very real, aging woman scowled before flicking the floating video away from her face. As the video faded and the audio slowed, her empty eyes and emptier smile mocked her in glittering pixels that popped and fizzled into nothingness.

"Welcome! Welcome to The Feed!"