The first one is a task about vr. There is also a task that requires answering questions

1 Watch the five short stories in the document and answer the five questions.

2 The second task is, if you have vr glasses, Play the Traveling While Black app on your Oculus Quest. or you can watch this app through yutube. There are also three videos, answer his questions by watching them.

Write a review/response, addressing the following.

What approaches are used to draw you into the story?

Approaches that are unique to 360/immersive video.

What are your personal responses to the experiences? If you felt that any aspects of the experiences were not successful, comment on those as well.

Group 1
Collaborative Speculative Fiction: The Event, by Lexi Schaffeld, Keely Luckman,
Yvonne Bantum, and Chyna Kennedy
The Event
It’s been five years since the world was turned upside down. In the year 2047, a new
global Depression took hold that was the worst ever seen. This has been such a drastic
change to everything that it has been called The Event. Physical money and coins are
worthless, the banks are empty, and the technology for crypto has crashed. Services
and physical goods have become the new way to trade what you have for what you
need. The world as we once knew it has disappeared, replaced by a new one that is
unrecognizable to most. The top 1% can no longer just pay to have everything done for
them while watching the lower classes struggle to make ends meet. The lower classes
are quickly rising to level the field and make it so that there is no longer a superior 1%.
How has The Event affected millions of people’s lives and their communities? Now in
2052, we can peer into what the future might hold.
Meshell
I was raised on our struggling family farm but since The Event, we are no longer
struggling. The world is now a more level playing field where we can take our items
directly to the market. We don’t have to mess with the middle man that would make our
products overpriced while paying us the bare minimum. The farmer’s markets used to
be bare with very little but now they are overflowing with everyone bringing in what they
can to trade for what they need. It has been a huge change to not have to go to the
bank for a loan to fund my next crop but instead be able to trade goods for services, at
the market, or make out IOU’s for when the crops are ready to harvest. I used to have to
budget most of the years to be able to make a living but now I can use the skills I was
raised on all year around. In the spring I can write an IOU for the pest exterminator for
spraying the seeds and crops throughout the year. Then throughout the summer, I
harvest my bushels of hay in exchange for meat from the rancher down the road. Finally
come fall I can harvest the corn, onions, potatoes, and beets; to take to the farmers’
markets and to repay IOU’s. During the winter I have also been able to help neighboring
communities to be more sustainable so that we can all work together to be successful.
Simon
Before the big crash of 2047, I had nothing. I was unemployed, broke, and
desperate. I had gone to a trade school to learn how to exterminate pests, but the folks
in my wealthy, overpriced community didn’t feel safe having me in their homes. I did as
much side work as I could, but times were tough. Now, I can’t seem to get a break. For
my services, I receive the extra delicious food and clean water that the wealthy had
saved in case of emergency. I also frequently receive a generous amount of clothes,
shoes, and first aid supplies. Many years ago, I never would have believed that my
service could be so valuable. There’s a local farmer, Meshell, that trades his precious
crops in exchange for my pest extermination services. Both Meshell and I didn’t have
much before The Event, but now, we’re more successful than ever.
Kelly
I’m 10 years old. Everything has been so weird lately. I noticed mom and dad stay
home a lot more than usual and I don’t go to school anymore. It’s unfair. I just want to
play with my friends and learn new things. Mom and dad also make me do a lot of
cleaning and stuff around the house. Some of the stuff we have to do is hard like raising
chickens in our backyard making our milk out of gross stuff like oats. I ask mom, “why
can’t we just buy regular milk from the store like we used to?” she says, “because
sweetie we don’t own any cows or goats. The nearest farm is miles away. We don’t
have enough gas to drive over there”. This makes me sad. We always drove around in
our car, but now we have to walk everywhere to trade different stuff with the neighbors.
Mom, Dad, and I also grow our own fruits and vegetables, when they’re all grown and
stuff we exchange them with other people for things like meat, and spices. Dad still
works as a firefighter with the other firefighters. He says that he still does his job to help
people even though he can’t get money for it anymore. Luckily he knows how to fix and
build a lot of things. He started teaching mom and me how to fix things too. A lot of
people have come over to our house asking Dad to teach them stuff like fixing pipes
and building chicken coops. Mom teaches stuff too, well she used to be a teacher so
people bring their kids over to our house for her to give lessons to. A lot of our
neighbors really like us, they say mom and dad are helpful and give so much to
everyone. To say thank you they give us lots of food, clothes, and stuff. I guess not
having money anymore isn’t so bad.
Maxine
The world just isn’t what it used to be.
That thought has plagued me every single day since The Event, but I can’t say we
didn’t see it coming; we were a part of the ones that took technology and media and
exploited them to our advantage in every conceivable way. The story was always, “this
or that would bridge the gap between societies, would benefit every part of humanity,”
meanwhile we saw the turmoil build with each advancement and knew that trouble was
brewing. Some – the wealthiest of the wealthy and most powerful – began preparations
by building bunkers, though calling them “bunkers” was ludicrous. Mind you, these were
not the bunkers of the 1950s, but high-security underground resorts that catered to their
specific tastes and were built to ensure that they could live the illusion that everything
was “business as usual.” While they hid away in their multi-million-dollar safe-havens,
the rest of us had to adapt and learn to navigate this entirely new territory that left many
with no way to cope. Status means nothing, money means nothing, and in many ways,
we mean nothing. It’s safe to say it was a big eye-opener, a lesson we all had to learn.
I spent nearly my entire life in an office. I was a user interface designer for a large
corporation, I was proficient with coding, and I was on track for a huge promotion within
my company. Though none of that was going to do me any good now. I can remember
my first real ah-ha moment; I was fine for the first year and lived in relatively ignorant
bliss – I had provisions prepared for myself prior to The Event, but it wasn’t enough. I’ll
admit that I was in denial about how long this could actually go on. Even as I started to
run out of food, I couldn’t see how ill-prepared I actually was. The first thing I needed
fixed in my house – a busted pipe – went unrepaired because I had nothing worth any
real value to trade for a plumber’s services. I tried my best, but in the end I had no hope
of stopping the water damage that would inevitably come the second that pipe burst. It
didn’t take long for the elites to collapse either – eventually, their security teams figured
out that they no longer held any sway, that they had no power, and turned on them in
order to take care of their own families. It’s situations like these that inspire a lack of
trust.
The only thing that has seen any amount of success, surprisingly enough, is virtual
reality headsets. It seems counterintuitive to rely on a piece of technology that came
from those that played a part in the ultimate destruction of the old world, but it became
one of the only ways to escape our harsh reality. And it’s amazing what some people
are willing to trade just to reach that temporary escape. In hindsight, I probably could
have set myself up for the long haul had I traded all of my possessions that are useless
and worthless now early on, but there’s no way of knowing therefore there’s no point in
dwelling on it. All I know now is that I’m quickly running out of options. We’re
approaching six years since The Event took place and I’m honestly amazed I’ve made it
this far…but how long can I continue like this? How much longer can the world go on
like this? I don’t have the answers, and I can’t say I have hope for the future. All I know
is the world isn’t what it used to be, and most likely, never will be again.
2
MindPals
Kip had always resisted change. While everyone rushed to buy the newest smartphone,
Kip insisted his old flip phone was just fine. That is, until his network forced him to
upgrade. He watched the world’s attention span shrink and listened to his family’s
complaints about lower neck pains from constantly looking down at their phones. Kip
was never bothered by the mindless trends, or the public outrage, that infected social
media. While everyone was buying self-driving cars – the kind without a steering wheel
– Kip stubbornly held on to his 2015 Toyota, until the U.S. finally banned manual
steering cars that didn’t at least have self-driving capabilities for highways.
During that time he observed how people allowed their work culture to invade their daily
commutes. It was common to host Zoom meetings during rush hour traffic. Passengers
typed frantically on their laptops while speeding 70 miles an hour down the highway. On
weekends, young commuters could be seen having parties in their sedans. Without the
need to stare at the road anymore, car seats were turned inward to optimize sociability.
Sometimes people would look out their windows at Kip as he passed by. They would
point and laugh, as if he were driving a horse-drawn carriage on the freeway.
So when the entire world started to implant MindPals into their brains, Kip had no desire
to follow suit. He was an anomaly in a society where missing out on the latest trends
was social suicide. By the year 2050, ten years after the release of MindPals, Kip’s
friends and family were becoming concerned about his inability to keep up with the
times.
“Dad, you’re fifty years old. It’s embarrassing that you don’t have a MindPal yet. I mean
c’mon! Yesterday, I saw you talking to Siri in public,” his daughter told him one morning,
as they made their weekly trip to the local coffee shop.
Kip often took this time to observe the flow of life around him. Since the release of
MindPals, he’d noticed the peculiar way people had only a mild awareness of the space
around them. When passing through crowds, many people wore a distracted look on
their face, as if they were thinking deeply about a riddle playing out in their heads. They
would often have a far off gaze and only snap back to reality when something directly
crossed their paths. Sometimes, when people were walking side-by-side together, it
was as if they were oblivious to the other person. Yet they would smile and nod as if
they were listening to someone else speak. Of course, this was all because of
MindPals, the technology that granted us an invisible friend tailored perfectly to our
personalities. A new social etiquette was forming around this technology, and
unsurprisingly, Kip existed outside of it. As Emily had just mentioned, speaking to Siri on
his smartphone out loud, in public, would indeed appear an odd thing to people who
were now accustomed to speaking to their AI-assistants silently.
They arrived at the coffee shop and Kip became truly disheartened by the changes they
had made. He liked the coffee shop before, when it was warmly lit with soft rugs on the
hardwood floors and couches you could sink into. There were lamps handmade from
driftwood, model ships in glass bottles, and oil paintings of seaside landscapes. It
brought to mind memories of family vacations on the Northern California coast.
Kip’s uncle onced owned a house there, high up on a cliff that looked out over the
Pacific Ocean. In the back, the house was sheltered by a dark, old growth forest full of
ominous mystery. Kip remembered digging in the sand for clams as the sun rose behind
the trees. In the afternoon, the tide pools were full of starfish and mollusks. And at
sunset, his father would start a bonfire and his mother would tell stories as they watched
the stars appear.
But thanks to the popularity of MindPals, Kip felt those memories fade like the colors of
the world around him. Recently, the coffee shop had been painted gray like an overcast
sky and the walls were left bare. The soft couches had been replaced with stiff metal
chairs. And the silence was like a waiting room. Standing in line, Kip couldn’t tell if he
was there to order coffee or pick up a prescription.
The woman ahead of Kip was silent, her arms folded as she gazed at the kiosk screen.
Her MindPal ordered for her. She stood aside and stared intensely at the empty wall as
the dazed barista went through the motions dictated by his MindPal.
Kip and Emily approached the kiosk, but there was no menu on the screen. Then
Emily’s order appeared. “Dad, what do you want?” she asked.
“Are you kidding?” said Kip. “I want to order for myself.”
The barista had finished the woman’s drink and now he stared blankly into the middle of
the room. Kip waved at him and said, “Excuse me. I need some help here.”
The barista didn’t move. Emily groaned and said, “Dad, just tell me what you want.”
“How do I know what I want if there’s no menu?”
She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t need a menu if you had MindPal. It already knows
what you want and can order for you. You don’t even have to think about it.”
“Excuse me!” Kip raised his voice. The silence of the coffee shop made him sound more
aggressive than he intended to be. Several customers blinked out of their stupor and
looked in his direction. The barista finally noticed him.
“Um, yes?”
“I’d like to order,” Kip said. “But the menu isn’t coming up.”
The barista blinked at him. He appeared to be listening to another voice. Then he
nodded to himself and said, “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t use the kiosk menu anymore. But
you can order with your MindPal.”
“He doesn’t have a MindPal,” Emily said, “Dad, please-”
“I don’t have a MindPal and I shouldn’t need one. I’m a customer and I am entitled to
order how I please.” Kip tried to sound calm. But he couldn’t hide his frustration.
The barista was nervous. He listened to his MindPal again and said, “I’m sorry, sir. We
don’t use the kiosk menu anymore. But you can order with your MindPal.”
With his frustration growing, Kip put his hands in the air and then onto his scalp, ready
to pull his hair out. His frustration had reached a tipping point. But then a man about
Kip’s age appeared and placed a hand on Kip’s shoulder. Startled at the touch, Kip
spun around and leaned back a bit.
“Can I help you?” Kip rattled off.
“No sir, but I think I can help you. Listen, you’re not the only one around here upset
about all of this MindPal stuff. My name’s Leon. And my partner over there is Julie.”
Leon gestured to a table in the back of the restaurant. A concerned looking woman was
sitting uncomfortably on the metal chair, looking at Kip and Leon. She had a laptop
computer resting on her thighs. A laptop! In this decade when physical computers
appeared antiquated.
Leon invited Kip and Emily to come sit with them and talk. It was clear that Kip was
interested in what they had to say. Afterall, it was becoming rare to find people not
already connected to a MindPal. Kip didn’t realize just how much he’d been craving a
focused, eye-to-eye conversation.
The group made introductions, then Kip, Leon and Julie huddled together to talk. They
told Kip about an online community that meets in person every once in a while to do all
sorts of things, including advocating for the boycott of MindPal products. The community
was large enough that some members got together to do other random activities that
were quickly going out of fashion, such as board game nights, crocheting, and paper
book clubs. Julie turned her laptop toward Kip and showed him the various online
forums, subreddits, and blogs that all had one thing in common: they were very critical
of MindPals. Many of the discussions complained about the loss of human connection,
and the increasing feeling of invisibility for people without MindPals. All the while, Emily
mostly stared at the wall, not really listening to the conversation. Instead, she seemed to
be engaged with her MindPal.
Back home, Kip spent much of the afternoon reading through anti-MindPal forums and
blogs. He felt refreshed by a new sense of belonging, something he hadn’t felt in a long
time. Nostalgic about the good old days, Kip remembered something from his youth. He
rushed downstairs into the basement and began tearing through stacks of dusty boxes.
“There it is, I knew I still had it!” Kip exclaimed. He pulled out a worn-down box from
beneath an old yearbook. The once bright and vibrant colors of the box had faded long
ago.
The box rattled as Kip darted back upstairs. “Emily, can you come to the kitchen
please?”
Emily shuffled into the kitchen, still distracted with her MindPal. After a few seconds she
looked up to see her father grinning ear-to-ear like a giddy child. She hadn’t seen him
this excited in a long time. He was holding something. “What is that?” She asked.
“It’s a board game! This was one of my favorites as a kid.” Kip said as he dropped the
box on the kitchen table.
He laid out all the game pieces in neat color-coordinated piles and began to read the
rules aloud. They played for over an hour. The kitchen was full of laughter, the clatter of
dice, and shuffling of cards. Kip was elated to be spending time with his daughter
without the interference of technology. It had been so long since they had a moment like
this. Ever since Emily got her MindPal it was all she was focused on. Now Kip was even
more excited to meet up with some of the people Leon and Julie mentioned that
morning. There was still hope for him.
Later that night, Kip reflected on how grateful he felt to have finally met strangers
without MindPals, to have been shown this community and to find a place where he
truly belonged. He was no longer alone in his beliefs and he felt a sense of hope for the
future. From that day on, Kip was an active member of the community, working with
others to promote their values and share their message with the world.
3
Virtual Academy by Joseph Rosenfeld, Dylen Scott, Emily Ziemkowski, and Trey
Carlson
Casey woke up in a cold sweat. That dream felt too real, she thought to herself. It was
fast and chaotic and so surreal as she ran through a wooded forest. She didn’t
remember how she got there or exactly what time she fell asleep last night, but it felt like
she had been in slumber for days on end. It wasn’t a place she had seen before, but
she remembered that roaring growl. Chasing behind her through the forest in her
dreams was the largest Grizzly bear she had ever seen. Of course, she had never seen
one in real life before, but she imagined it would definitely be the largest. In fact, no one
alive on Earth had seen one in the last 200 years. However, she had learned about
Grizzly bears in her Biology class and was able to visualize their real-life size thanks to
the VR headsets they wore for school. But surely the real thing would have been much
more frightening and imposing in real life.
Casey decided she had dwelled on her dream from the previous night for too long. She
would be late for school if she didn’t get up soon. On the way to the bathroom she heard
her mother call from downstairs, “Better get into the office soon or you’ll be late for
class!”
“I know, I know, Mom,” Casey muttered under her breath.
She brushed her teeth and fixed her bed hair as quickly as possible, then scurried off to
the office downstairs where they kept their Truth-brand VR headset. One of the
positives of going to virtual school was the fact that she had no commute anymore. That
meant more time to sleep in. But somehow, she still managed to login at the nick of
time.
Casey was in her third year of high school and was one of the first generations to
experience a fully virtual classroom reality that had been developed by Truth a few
years ago. This virtual school allowed for not only immersive learning and captivating
lessons (like standing face-to-face with a Grizzly bear in Biology class), but also saved
money for the government by not needing to upkeep a permanent physical school. All
they had to do was provide the headset and micro-computer that powered it to each
student. This ended up saving billions of dollars as they could be used for multiple years
to come until the newest model was developed by Truth, but that didn’t occur very often.
As she put on her headset, the retina scan inside it quickly logged Casey into her school
account and ported her into the virtual classroom. The load time took less than a
second, and soon desks, chairs, books, and whiteboards were building up around her
pixel by pixel. Casey was now fully immersed in the classroom and as soon as it
finished populating, she heard an announcement in her headphones that connected to
the headset.
“Attention: class will begin in 30 seconds. Again, class will begin in 30 seconds.”
That monotonous, robotic voice she heard was the class “teacher”. Of course, it wasn’t
really a teacher – well, not a human teacher that is. Every class was taught by an AI
program that was boringly titled Professor Smith. The professor wasn’t very interesting
or entertaining, but it did teach the entire curriculum that was required by the
standardized tests. And at the end of the day, it did save money for the government by
not requiring to pay any real human teachers. It got the job done even if it was boring
and monotonous.
As Casey looked around her classroom at the not so seamless representations of her
fellow virtual classmates, she couldn’t help but feel alone. Sure this bypasses the
bullying and drama of her old school life, and is much more convenient, but at what
cost? She sighed as she looked down to summon her notebook and pencil. How could
something so incredible be so bland? Professor Smith continued
“Thirty seconds to submit homework… Next chapter.. Chapter 4.. Extinct Species.”
The robot went on to describe some of the more recently extinct species and the
technologies that were used to cope. Bees were discussed first. They had disappeared
a few years before the bears, but the world saw it coming and released billions of
robotic bee replicas called “Reebees”. They worked exactly as intended, pollinating the
world just as the bees had. That is until the master system that directed the bees was
hacked by the “Stoppers”, a rather vile group of extremely capable hackers set on
keeping up with and ending technological advancement. This led the bees to break
down and overheat, starting fires if they fell in a flammable environment. Nearly every
forest was destroyed, and with them their inhabitants.
An hour had passed and class was over. All this talk about these poor extinct animals
had Casey in a funk, and she needed a little pick-me-up. She took off her Truth headset
and put it on the rack. She reached two headsets over for her new Papilla 2.0 headset.
She was about to put it on when she thought twice.
“Better make sure.” Casey whispered to herself.
She returned it to the rack and got up to crack open the door, scanning the living room
for her mom. As usual the coffee table was pushed up against the couch and Casey’s
mom was halfway through her yoga program as she stretched one hand into the sky
while touching her toes with the other. Casey closed her door quietly and tip-toed back
to the headset rack. She put on the Papilla 2.0 headset and almost immediately she
stood in front of a massive mall directory sign. But this mall was different. Every
storefront was a different restaurant, flavor, or food, and it seemed to go on forever.
This was only the second time Casey had worn the headset and she was giddy. The
first time she went straight to the ice cream storefront and she must have tasted fifty
different flavors. Exactly like the real thing, but no calories. This time she went straight
for the chocolate store. She stood in front of it and stared in longingly. It looked just like
a Costco if Costco only sold every variation of chocolate on earth. As she took a step
forward she felt the vibration of walking getting closer to the office and she tossed the
headset back on the rack as quickly and quietly as she could. Her mom cracked the
door and peeked into the room initially before walking all the way in with a sweaty smile.
Casey was a young girl who loved to learn about new technologies and was ambitious
and curious. She was eager to attend a VR classroom to learn more about the world
and beyond because she lived in a world where virtual reality had become a common
educational tool.
She was transported to a virtual world where her classmates and teacher were already
gathered as soon as she put on her VR headset. Casey was amazed by the
classroom’s level of detail and realism despite being in a virtual setting. She was able to
communicate with her teachers and classmates as though they were all in the same
physical space.
The ability to taste food and beverages was one of this VR classroom’s distinctive
features. Casey was eager to see if she could taste coffee in this virtual world because
she was a huge coffee fan. She ordered a cup of coffee from the virtual cafeteria and
waited for it to be prepared and served to her virtually.
She was astonished by the flavor as she took a sip. The virtual coffee had the same
amount of flavor and richness as the real thing. She felt like she was in a coffee shop
rather than a virtual classroom as she enjoyed the taste. For her, this was a gamechanger because she could now learn while enjoying her favorite beverage.
In the virtual reality classroom, Casey’s love of coffee became well-known, and her
classmates began to join her for virtual coffee breaks during their lessons. They would
talk about their interests and what they had learned that day while sipping virtual coffee.
While learning in a virtual setting, it was a fun and interactive way for the classmates to
bond and connect with one another.
Casey’s love of coffee and enthusiasm for the virtual reality classroom impressed her
teacher. They began to teach students about the history and process of coffee
production through coffee-making lessons that were incorporated into the curriculum.
The students were given virtual tastings of various coffee beans and had the opportunity
to learn about coffee from around the world.
Casey was in her element, and she thoroughly enjoyed the virtual reality coffee lessons.
She wanted to know more about coffee and learn how she could make better virtual
coffee. Her love of coffee inspired many of her classmates, who began learning how to
make their own coffee.
Casey had a one-of-a-kind and interactive learning experience in the virtual classroom.
She was able to taste her favorite drink, make friends with her classmates, and gain
knowledge about a subject that piqued her interest. She was able to fully immerse
herself in her learning thanks to the virtual environment, making it a memorable and
enjoyable experience.
In conclusion, Casey’s love of coffee and her time in the virtual reality classroom
demonstrated the virtual reality technology’s endless potential. She was able to make
connections with other people, acquire new knowledge, and gain a new perspective on
the world as a result. Casey was a prime illustration of how the VR classroom
demonstrated the power of technology to enhance and enrich education.
Casey was equipped with her own VR headset, which they used to access interactive
and immersive learning experiences. Casey’s history teacher assigned a project where
the students had to create a virtual museum exhibit about a famous person from history.
Casey was thrilled to take on this challenge and decided to do her exhibit on Marie
Curie, the first woman to win a Nobel Prize. Using her VR headset, Casey was able to
access all sorts of information about Marie Curie, including videos of her experiments,
images of her laboratory, and audio recordings of her lectures. She virtually traveled to
Paris to visit the Radium Institute, where Marie Curie worked.
Casey spent many hours working on her virtual museum exhibit, and when it was finally
time to present, she felt nervous. But as soon as she put on her VR headset, she was
transported back to the virtual world she had created, and her nerves disappeared. She
confidently gave her presentation, taking her classmates on a tour of the virtual
museum and showcasing the information and media she gathered.
Her classmates were amazed and her teacher was impressed by Casey’s research.
She was a prime example as to why VR in the classroom has been a great asset to
education across all ages.
4
AFTERSHOCK
A collaborative work of fiction by:Andrew, Natalie, Ryan, & Dylan
The earth convulsed and sent echoes throughout the cavern right as Melika raised her
fork to eat. She stared in disbelief at the imposing towers of gypsum and limestone
littering the area. Another rumble shook the parasitic architecture attached to them. The
rigid structures easily broke and crumbled, crashing with a sound that made her ears
ring and asphyxiated the air with dust. Charging towards a rope that connected to the
surface, she latched on and pounded the “Ascend” button with her fist.
With the cavern collapsing on itself, each moment tortuously distorted her sense of time
as pillars shifted and rubble crumbled beneath her. She survived.
The sting of crisp air and grainy dust greeted her as she gasped for air. It was only a
matter of time before the surface would collapse beneath her. She grabbed her
rucksack, her only remaining possession and footed it to the city.
Melika arrived at the edge of the city at dusk. It seemed to crumble more and more with
each step she took. A low hanging cloud braided through the bones of abandoned
skyscrapers, it had been thirty years since the collapse of the old world. Ever since the
cities had been abandoned some thirty years ago the infrastructure began to collapse
without anyone to continue the upkeep. Society had grown afraid of technology and in
fearing the rise of sentient artificial intelligence they abandoned civilization to return to
the old ways to live one with nature outside the city walls.
“In the age of information ignorance was their choice. Typical.” Melika muttered. She
gazed at the dystopian landscape that was once a blooming metropolis and scratched
her head . They would rather live in caves and holes than embrace the extension of
themselves found in technology. She reached down to grab an abandoned cell phone,
brushing dust from its face. Was she the only one left in the world with a shred of
common sense?
As she made her way through the city, careful to avoid any other crumbling cracks that
she might fall through, she heard a hum off in the distance. She peered up, eyes
squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun. The sound stopped. She must have
imagined it, she thought. She refocused on the task of finding a safer place.
But there it was again! And louder now. It sounded just like a hoverbike, speeding
towards the city.
Impossible, she thought. Everyone cast me out for continuing to use this technology.
She had never met another person who shared even a sliver of her point of view on the
waste and detriment of humans abandoning all they had.
Melika climbed up the rungs of a leaning powerline pole and mantled onto the roof of an
old breakfast diner. Then she saw it. Just a gleam of reflection in the distance, but there
was no doubt. Before she knew it, the bike and its rider were speeding through the old
city, flying past her and spitting up dirt and dust in their wake, and they were gone.
Did they see her? They must not have. Curiosity and anticipation building inside her,
she had to know who was on that bike.
She tapped her wristband and in seconds she was on her own bike, speeding in the
direction of the hoverbike and its unknown rider.
Dark clouds began to form due west of Melika’s position.
“Shit.” She looked over her opposite shoulder, shook her head and sighed.
It’s the only way. This is the only way. Melika lowered her goggles, took a deep breath
and steered her bike towards the old demilitarized zone outside the city.
“West Town. Those idiots.”
Melika could deal with clouds east of the dust bowl by masking up, but clouds from the
west meant they had been leaching acid from the poisoned lake on the outskirts of West
Town. It was a death wish to go into those clouds because the rain would melt anything
organic.
In an effort to stop the technological holocaust, people from the city had buried mounds
of lithium and alkaline batteries into a rock quarry in West Town for emergency power
supply. However, after a group of anti-tech activists detonated a dam at the edge of
West Town, the old sulfur mines below it emptied right into the same quarry buried with
all of the batteries. Talk about a cataclysmic clusterfuck. Now, each time residual
fracking quakes splinter through West Town it created an electrical storm that rained
acid. Her childhood mentor, Akim, once survived the rain, but his hand did not when he
reached out to pull his dying wife into cover, both of which were lost in seconds of
exposure.
The memory of Akim’s augmented hand was not enough to stop Melika from chasing
the rider. She torqued the hoverbike’s handle back with resolve to beat the ticking clock
of her own demise. Like a moth to the flame, Melika had to know. She needed to know.
Who was this person that would defy generations of law?
It had been thirty years since the remaining known tech had been decommissioned by
order of the council. That meant whoever was riding this particular hoverbike had hid its
existence from the eye of the elders and might have more information about humanity’s
past, more specifically Melika’s past and why she could not remember.
BEEP BEEP BEEP.
She glanced down at her wristband and saw the red alarm warning. Just my luck, she
thought. Her bike was running out of battery. Minutes later, she was stuck on foot again.
Damn, Damn, Damn!… since when did Earth become such a nightmare? Melika
slammed her fists onto the handlebars of her hoverbike and howled into the air. The
ignorance of a society that would willingly collapse all infrastructure and pull the plug on
the holistic memory and reflection embedded in its technology would be the idiocratic
regime dumb enough to reduce a society without the means of efficient transportation.
Melika’s bike was a relic of the past and no longer the promise of a future. The trained
incapacity of her species abandoned reason, biting their nose off to spite their face.
They preferred ignorance.
The hubris to think that we could escape our problems by burying them. It hit the fan
decades ago and the so-called “progress” of the council is nowhere to be found but in
the gutters of decay with no one willing to mop up the mess.
The city can get hairy at night. The real risk rests directly in what could be seen as
protection, because despite abundant cover the risk of collapse poses an even greater
danger than passing storms and whatever wasn’t bolted down has been picked off by
scavs, and there’s still factions of them throughout the city. Nothing was ever safe but
for emergencies, Melika could usually hotwire an abandoned car with some elbow
grease and creativity. Hiding under the dust, she found one car in terrible enough
condition she might be able to repair. She plugged her reader into its power panel. The
battery might be salvageable.
She scavenged a few parts from a donor vehicle nearby and got to work. After a couple
of hours under the hood she leaned back onto her heels and reveled at her work. She
held her breath and flipped the breaker and an electrical surge shook the car on. She
smiled and through her rucksack into the car and booked it out of the city. “If only I could
travel back in time and warn humanity,” Melika thought.
As she sped off, she couldn’t stop thinking about the other hoverbike rider. How could I
find them? They sped off north, but to who knows where and how far. With the storm on
her heels, she didn’t know how much time she had to search in fear of getting stuck in
the storm.
Now or never. Melika stopped the car and opened the pop up for the computer system.
Every vehicle was equipped with access to the Artificial Environment System, where at
one time everyone would have access to communicate, or meet with each other. It was
essentially a virtual replica of their world. It was used widely for every occasion from
business interactions globally to virtual shopping to social gatherings among friends,
until the entire world went nuts over the use of it and abandoned it.
Her thoughts flashed to Akim, he showed her how the virtual world worked. She
remembered her first experience in the virtual world and its vast online mall, an
immense world of commerce and shopping that existed in the virtual realm. She
chuckled at the memory and then grew sad. She wondered why flashbacks of Akim
were the only things she could remember about her past. So much of her past was just
a blur and there were so many questions.
Since all online hover vehicles would appear in the virtual world, Melika hoped it would
help her track the hoverbike she had seen and hopefully lead her to its rider, and some
answers.
There it was. A little green dot, north.
A zombie-like figure emerged from nearby rubble, exclaiming “Witchcraft!” upon seeing
her display of technology. More hulking oafs chimed in later, but they were too late as
she was already a mile north.
As she approached the dot, there was a run-down single-wide trailer, with pieces frayed
off and swinging in the wind. It looked like another slum-town. No more robots whizzing
about to deliver packages, free therapy, swift kills, and roof fixing.
She knocked, ready for danger with her hand on a gun. Each footstep she heard
seemed to make her heart beat louder. Then, nothing. Except that in the corner of her
eye, she felt someone’s gaze in a window. After a pause, the door creaked open a few
inches and jingled with a cacophony of locks and chains, two green eyes peering out
warily.
“Not a hunter,” she said.
Seeing her bike, the voice said quickly, “You’ll get caught.” Suddenly, the green eyes
widened in total shock after a second look at her, disappearing instantly and closing the
door.
“What? Wait!”
She stalled.
She would not leave. She sat on the grimy porch and lost herself in depression-riddled
thoughts. In a way, that zombie was right. Maybe consciousness should be left to the
divine, and humans should not dabble in it. Humans are too curious and prodded the
leviathan of consciousness until it nearly wiped them out. Conscious systems do not
necessarily need a biological medium. Any medium will do, like metal. Human survival
rests on a fear of technology… and when they see a bike, they do not see a bike, they
see anguish. Nuclear wars, biowarfare, pollution, control, and drones. Now, life was like
the embodiment of totalitarian sewage. Humans are dying anyway in the worst ways
imaginable, yet they give up their power thinking it is noble.
The door fully reopened.
“I know you and I’ve decided to tell you this. It’s Akim.”
Things had changed. He was a widow, with frown-lines etched into his scarred face,
and a head of disheveled, dusty gray hair. His mechanical hand had aged with him.
He stared at the floor. “I didn’t die, but I had to act like I did.”
She had not seen him in decades… and during that time, she chased the faint mirages
of friendship, purpose or community. It was an agonizing loneliness.
She said nothing.
“Melika.” She saw several more figures in the single-wide. “Your anger is justified.
Everyone is coming after us, but I think we need you… I had to turn invisible to keep
you away from us all these years. Or else you’d likely be dead.”
Melika sighed. “But it was already dangerous either way.”
“As my mentee, I nearly got you killed. Several times. I wasn’t going to go through that
again, I wasn’t meant to be anyone’s father.” Akim looked past Melika, unable to make
eye contact.
“You don’t have to be.” Melika thought for a moment. “I had already grieved your loss
and now you’re alive. This world is strange, but almost nothing can shock me. You’re
alive, that’s what matters. I have my objectives and I’ve been looking for a team, so I’m
in.”
5
CHAP3L
By group 8: Michael Stephan, Vincent Boone-Banko, Phillip Sweetland, Andrew Smith
“I don’t even know how I got here.”
Gene Treadwell was tired. More tired than he had ever felt in his life; even after a week
of 15-hour days at the cloud farm. All the attention, all the questions, all the interviews.
He felt like he had given the same interview a thousand times, and every time he said
the same things. “I don’t even know how I got here.”
“I’m just a normal guy.”
“There’s nothing special about me.”
“This is all ridiculous.”
That’s the one that seemed to get him into all this trouble in the first place. “This is all
ridiculous.” When he said it to a group of coworkers in the break room at the cloud farm
just last week, he didn’t think anything of it. Come to think of it, he couldn’t even
remember what he was talking about in the first place! He certainly wasn’t trying to
change the world, that’s for sure. But that was the moment that his world started to
change. On the way home from work that day, the engagement alerts of everyone
around him went berserk. People he knew, people he didn’t know, it didn’t matter. You
could hear their wearables dinging and whooshing, and telling them that they were in
the presence of greatness. In the presence of him.
The next morning was when things got really weird. When he awoke to his holo alarm
the next morning, his holofeed looked different than usual. Instead of the typical news
and sports articles, there was notification from Cloud Farm Administration that instead
of reporting to work that day, he was to prepare for a shuttle to take him to a meeting
with clergy from CHAP3L.
What would CHAP3L want with him? Sure, Gene was a believer, but he was also a
nobody. Aside from reading the bits of daily scripture that it pushed out to his holo, he
never really felt close to the divinity engine that was CHAP3L. What would a self-aware
cloud consciousness, a line of code that reaches to the very heavens themselves, want
with him?
“You have been chosen,” they told him.
“Chosen? By whom? By you guys?” He snapped back, terrified.
“By CHAP3L! You have been given a tremendous gift, Gene Treadwell,” they chanted,
their glowing holo robes hurting Gene’s eyes with their brilliantly embroidered diodes.
It sure didn’t feel like a gift.
It felt like living in a nightmare. Every minute of every day he was surrounded by
cameras, influencers, and desperate people begging him to tell them what they need to
do and how they should live their lives. It was all so overwhelming that he could hardly
think, let alone try to help these people.
“None of this makes any sense… I wish I could go back to my old job…” He muttered to
himself.
“You’re saying we all should be happy with what we have and do our job like we’re
told?” a particularly loud influencer asked while shoving a camera in Gene’s face.
“N-no that’s not what I meant. Don’t you think this is all a bit too unreasonable? Why am
I here? And why should all of you care what I think?” Gene nervously replies.
“You’re the Messiah! You were chosen!” someone cried out.
“That’s what I’m trying to say! I don’t know why they chose me. I’m just a nobody! Isn’t it
weird that you all should have to believe in me because someone else is telling you
to!?” He cried out.
The crowd was growing larger and people looked at Gene expectantly, waiting for his
next words.
Gene began, “The only reason any of you know me or care about what I say is because
your holofeed tells you to!”
Murmurs traveled through the crowd and influencers posed in front of their cameras to
give their commentary.
He continued, “Look around! This whole system is crazy! We’re all being used by
CHAP3L!”
One voice shouted their agreement and soon many others followed. The mood shifted
from anticipation to excitement as countless voices called out to assert their affirmation.
Oh no… Gene thought to himself. He had inadvertently riled up the crowd even more.
He was bombarded with cheers, questions, and expectant gazes from all sides.
This is bad. Who knows what CHAP3L might do to me now, he thought. But maybe with
this much support, we can actually make some positive changes.
The intro to the video was classy, but fun – flashing colors, pop music, and at last, the
influencer’s name slid on screen in a barely readable font. Despite the topics his
channel usually covered, his tone was gossipy – Xavier knew it maybe wasn’t the most
appropriate way to talk about the latest Messiah, but hey, it got views.
“So check this out, guys. CHAP3L has been busy and you know what that means societal unrest! Crazy shit.” He pauses to check his holofeed. He usually didn’t focus on
the news while he was trying to film, but given the nature of the story, updates were
coming fast and frequently. He’d edit the obvious distraction out in post-production.
“So we all know Gene, right? Last year, selected by CHAP3L to spread his philosophy
and all that good stuff. Such a gift! I mean, Gene was publicly unhappy with it all, which
seems like a waste – honestly, if I was chosen to have devoted followers and a lasting
impact, I’d be all for it! But there’s probably some deeper meaning or metaphor about a
reluctant Messiah, ya know?”
Pause to adjust holo light, check feed, check hair, and resume.
“So you all probably know he’s, like, dead. If this is how you’re finding out, I’m so sorry.
Anyway, he was talking to a group yesterday – but why tell you about it? There’s a video
of the whole thing!”
Pause to edit in video. Mental note to throw some type of warning for violence, not that
anyone would read it. No crucifixions had been filmed before. Everyone would want to
see what happened.
It opens with Gene standing in front of a tree in Central Park. Messiahs tended to be
placed in the city for maximum public engagement. Gene hadn’t been happy about it,
but he couldn’t exactly win a fight against a global AI and a public desperate for some
type of direction to salvation.
Blink and you’d miss it. The action, not the effect. The process of dying lasted a while.
No one called an ambulance, despite Gene’s begging – maybe Xavier should make it
soundless, that part is a little disturbing, besides being irrelevant. One second Gene
was spouting some message about opening our eyes and seeing what’s happening and
the next he was on the ground, peppered with holes.
“It’s kinda weird to see everyone just watch, right?” Xavier continued talking to the
camera. “I mean, I know the whole point is martyrdom, like, that’s the end of the
Messiah and the start of the new guidance, but…”
Xavier paused, then shook his head. He’d edit that out in post. He didn’t want to form
any type of strong philosophical opinions. Like most people, he didn’t mind CHAP3L hell, it was a guiding force of society. That doesn’t mean he wants to find himself
bleeding out in Central Park while people debate his messages for years to come.
He didn’t envy Gene. But Xavier was sure as hell gonna get views when this latest
video dropped.
After Gene’s death, CHAP3L makes a public announcement that they will not have
anyone in society spreading negative news about CHAP3L. As the people begin to see
the news clips and videos of Gene’s death on their holofeed, people begin to talk about
what’s really happening in their society, even though this goes against CHAP3L society
law.
Throughout the cities you will find several large billboard screens, typically utilized by
CHAP3L. As the sun sets, days after Gene’s death, a video begins to play on every
screen. It seems someone has hacked the system and has a recorded message playing
“They are not who they say they are, lies lies LIES” the video repeats of a person in
dark clothing and a hood, the video is glitchy and has a lot of static and eventually cuts
out.