running up a dune and allowed himself to roll down the other side. He could afford to look silly in a fictional world like this. With a modern mind, it only took Declan twenty minutes to get bored with the incredible world about him and start racking his brain for an explanation regarding the room’s behavior.
If he focused hard enough on another environment, would the room change accordingly? He created an image of a tropical island, a locale he only saw in children’s books, in his mind and tried to think of nothing else. As is often the case, when he tried to clear his mind, a new idea hit him. His mind truly desired an empty space. The clutter of his modern lifestyle could not bury a primal motivation for a simple life. It was at that moment that Declan believed he had resolved the problems of his dreams. He needed to clear his head, and a way to do so would surely not be difficult to find.
***
After his session had finished, Declan graciously thanked Georgie for the good deal they had made, and he took an XL T-shirt with him. He had hoped to squeeze into a large sized shirt, but he had become one of the Sedants people talked about, spending more time sitting and reclining than moving about in the world around him. Then again, the whole City’s population was headed in that direction, so at least he didn’t stick out.
As he mounted his bicycle and rode into the nearby lane, Declan also downloaded a copy of The City Now and looked in the “experimental subjects” section of the wanted ads. Just as he thought, a new virtual reality device was being tested at Acciai Virtual Reality Research Institute (AVRRI). VR technology experiments were going on almost every day in The City. In just two hours, the first test of a device known as Slipstream Dogma would take place at Room 280 in the Mzeta Building.
Dropping by Loa’s Coffee and Tea House, Declan ordered a Maghrebi mint tea and reclined in a polyflex lounging chair in front of the establishment. He wanted to stay as relaxed as possible before the experiment. If clearing his mind was so important, the confusion resulting from a prototype VR device would be like a reset button for his brain, exhausting him and opening him up to new experiences. It would be good for an aspiring Dream Off champion. At least that was what he told himself.
When Declan started drinking his tea, a man suddenly came up to him, interrupting his musings. The gentleman looked rather wearied, though he had surprisingly impeccable posture for someone with such a run-down appearance.
“My name is Don Song, though it is not my real title,” the man sat down across from Declan. “You see I’m in the CA ’s witness protection program.”
“Well, that’s…something,” Declan pulled up a clock inside of his mind, hoping that this man wouldn’t take up too much of his time.
“I used to run a formulator business,” the man continued. “After they moved me to this Prefecture, the CA has kept me locked up most of the time. You look like someone who has it all together. Would you happen to be a DU (data unit) producer?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Declan trie d to be as polite as possible.
“It’s a shame really. If someone could loan me enough DUs, I’m sure I could pay off my debts to Iw…, um, a friend, and I wouldn’t have to be a snitch.”
“Well, I’m sorry…”
“Do you know how well the CA treats informants,” the man leaned closer to Declan, exposing him to breath that smelled like day old garbage.
“No,” Declan leaned farther back in his seat.
“They hardly ever let me out, and yet they expect to pull data out of my scull at the trial, for everyone to see.”
“Look, I’d better get going. I have an appointment.” Of course Declan did not have to arrive at the institute for some time, but he had had enough of this strange man.
“Well maybe I’ll see you around,” the man said as the student stood up to leave. “You know I only talked to you
If he focused hard enough on another environment, would the room change accordingly? He created an image of a tropical island, a locale he only saw in children’s books, in his mind and tried to think of nothing else. As is often the case, when he tried to clear his mind, a new idea hit him. His mind truly desired an empty space. The clutter of his modern lifestyle could not bury a primal motivation for a simple life. It was at that moment that Declan believed he had resolved the problems of his dreams. He needed to clear his head, and a way to do so would surely not be difficult to find.
***
After his session had finished, Declan graciously thanked Georgie for the good deal they had made, and he took an XL T-shirt with him. He had hoped to squeeze into a large sized shirt, but he had become one of the Sedants people talked about, spending more time sitting and reclining than moving about in the world around him. Then again, the whole City’s population was headed in that direction, so at least he didn’t stick out.
As he mounted his bicycle and rode into the nearby lane, Declan also downloaded a copy of The City Now and looked in the “experimental subjects” section of the wanted ads. Just as he thought, a new virtual reality device was being tested at Acciai Virtual Reality Research Institute (AVRRI). VR technology experiments were going on almost every day in The City. In just two hours, the first test of a device known as Slipstream Dogma would take place at Room 280 in the Mzeta Building.
Dropping by Loa’s Coffee and Tea House, Declan ordered a Maghrebi mint tea and reclined in a polyflex lounging chair in front of the establishment. He wanted to stay as relaxed as possible before the experiment. If clearing his mind was so important, the confusion resulting from a prototype VR device would be like a reset button for his brain, exhausting him and opening him up to new experiences. It would be good for an aspiring Dream Off champion. At least that was what he told himself.
When Declan started drinking his tea, a man suddenly came up to him, interrupting his musings. The gentleman looked rather wearied, though he had surprisingly impeccable posture for someone with such a run-down appearance.
“My name is Don Song, though it is not my real title,” the man sat down across from Declan. “You see I’m in the CA ’s witness protection program.”
“Well, that’s…something,” Declan pulled up a clock inside of his mind, hoping that this man wouldn’t take up too much of his time.
“I used to run a formulator business,” the man continued. “After they moved me to this Prefecture, the CA has kept me locked up most of the time. You look like someone who has it all together. Would you happen to be a DU (data unit) producer?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Declan trie d to be as polite as possible.
“It’s a shame really. If someone could loan me enough DUs, I’m sure I could pay off my debts to Iw…, um, a friend, and I wouldn’t have to be a snitch.”
“Well, I’m sorry…”
“Do you know how well the CA treats informants,” the man leaned closer to Declan, exposing him to breath that smelled like day old garbage.
“No,” Declan leaned farther back in his seat.
“They hardly ever let me out, and yet they expect to pull data out of my scull at the trial, for everyone to see.”
“Look, I’d better get going. I have an appointment.” Of course Declan did not have to arrive at the institute for some time, but he had had enough of this strange man.
“Well maybe I’ll see you around,” the man said as the student stood up to leave. “You know I only talked to you
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