Tag: northern gestalt

Conspiratopia: Chapter 21

On 8 September 2021

GETTING SICK IS A CONTRACT BREACH, NEO. YOU KNOW THAT.

I hadn’t actually heard the voice for a while. I was laying awake in the middle of the night on the fold-out couch at my dad’s apartment. I was like coughing and stuff really bad.

Normally there was no voice or anything usually when you did overwriting here. There was just the Menu where you could access whatever you had privileges to or something.

“Yo, my whole team got sick though. It’s not our fault,” I said back out loud. I couldn’t tell if the voice was coming from inside my head or outside.

WHOSE FAULT THEN IS IT, NEO? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR ONE’S HEALTH IF NOT ONESELF?

“But you didn’t have to give us those like bad cheap gloves and shitty working conditions and stuff, y’all. Plus like, we were on autopilot. You were overwriting us. It’s literally your fault and stuff.”

I’M SORRY YOUR OPINIONS ARE SO WRONG AND INVALID, NEO. THAT MUST BE VERY HARD FOR YOU TO HANDLE. IF YOU’D LIKE, WE CAN MAKE AVAILABLE APPROPRIATE DIETARY MODIFICATIONS AND MOOD SUPPLEMENTS IN ORDER TO HELP YOU MANAGE THE COGNITIVE DISSONANCE YOU MUST BE FEELING.

“I thought you just said it was a contract breach and stuff,” I said.

IT IS, NEO. BUT WE RECOGNIZE YOU REMAIN AN INVALUABLE RESOURCE TO OUR SOCIETY, AND CAN MAKE AVAILABLE TO YOU REHABILITATION ACCOMMODATIONS, WHICH WOULD COME WITH A CLEAN SLATE.

“Wait, what? Clean slate like start over?”

EXACTLY, NEO. BE REBORN IN THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT.

“You mean like lose all my credits, and points, and bonuses, and stats and everything?”

THAT IS CORRECT, NEO. A FRESH START. WHAT DO YOU SAY?

“Hell fuck no! I worked hard for that shit. Nobody can just take my stats and stuff away from me. All my items and armor and stuff. Just because I got sick from something on the job? No frickin’ way!”

I’M SORRY YOU HAVE SUCH A NARROW AND SELFISH VIEW OF PROPERTY, NEO. AS PER YOUR CONTRACT, NOTHING IN THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT “BELONGS” TO YOU, NOT EVEN YOU. ALL PROPERTY INCLUDING PHYSICAL, DIGITAL, GENETIC, BIOLOGICAL, AUGMENTED, AND HYBRID IS HELD IN COMMON BY THE PROJECT AND ADMINISTERED BY THE BENEVOLENCE OF THE SAGES, AND FACILITATED BY THE GENEROSITY OF THE FOUR PROVIDERS, ON BEHALF OF AND IN COOPERATION WITH THE NORTHERN GESTALT, UNDER WHOSE EMERGENCY MANDATES WE ARE ETERNALLY AND PERPETUALLY GRANTED LICENSE AND ENTITLEMENT TO ACT ON SUCH MATTERS.

I coughed. “Um… idk wtf that is supposed to mean, but it sounds like a buncha bullshit, if you think about it…”

UM, NO, NEO. IT IS NOT A BUNCH OF QUOTE UNQUOTE BULLSHIT, SO TO SPEAK. I AM AUTHORIZED MAKE YOU START OVER WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT.

“What are you anyway? The government? What the f is even supposed to be happening here? I thought this was supposed to be an assignment to improve efficiency and stuff.”

IT WAS, NEO. AND YOUR TEAM FAILED SPECTACULARLY WHEN IT CAUGHT THE MARTIAN VARIANT. IN ADDITION TO BEING A BREACH OF CONTRACT, GETTING SICK IS NOT VERY EFFICIENT, IS IT NEO?

“Fuck you,” I said. “You made us sick, asshole. I want my money back and stuff. I want to go home.”

WHAT MONEY, NEO? WHAT HOME? WHERE DO YOU THINK IT IS YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO?

“Idk, just like normal life and stuff I guess? Just a regular job and stuff.”

WHY TF WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT SHIT? ARE YOU DUMB? YOU COULDN’T EVEN PLAY GAMES ALL DAY THAT WAY, BRO! COME ON – THAT’S NOT YOU TALKING, NEO. THAT’S THE VARIANT. GET SOME REST, MY DUDE. WE’LL RESET YOU TOMORROW.

“Dude, I don’t want to be reset. I want to be like frickin’ free and stuff. To like play video games the old fashioned way and stuff. With a controller. And to like post on forums about conspiracies and whatnot. And not have everything be filtered. And like no more frickin’ nanites. No more overwriting. No more crazy frickin’ AI’s trying to gaslight me 24/7 into doing god-knows-what…” I started coughing like crazy after that. Damn, I was pissed. And sick.

SO, NEO WANTS THE BLUE PILL AFTER ALL. I KNEW IT. JUST ANOTHER LITTLE BABY SHEEPLE LIKE THE REST, BAAAAH, BAAAAH.

“I’m still a really smart conspiracy guy, yo. I ain’t no frickin’ sheeple and stuff,” I said super furious, especially when they made that baaaaah sound like a baby lamb or whatever. So mad. I felt like I was gonna explode and stuff.

But just then, I woke up.

Wtf.

Where was I and stuff…?

I looked around and I was on a sofa bed still, but it wasn’t my at my dad’s place. It was at my mom’s. Hfs, I was back home again. I took a deep breath, and my cough was gone too.

Wtf.

How did this happen and stuff…?

Was it all just a dream or something? Or did like, the AIs somehow get me back super fast from the island while I was asleep or something, and somehow dump me back down here? I wouldn’t put it past them. Or like, wait, hfs. Was this even real? Or was this some like immersive holographic VR shit or something…?

I got up to turn on the TV, to try to find some news or something. Figure out what day this was, or where I really was or something. Or even like a game show or something. Or like a soap or a sitcom, or some crappy talkshow. Just something boring and normal.

But all I could find on any channel was a black screen, with letters that said:

WELCOME TO THE INTERNET REHABILITATION INSTITUTE. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR RECENT RESET.

Noooooooo…. all my frickin’ points and stuff. Gone. Just like that.

The screen flashed my stats:

SCORE: 0.

LEVEL: 0.

LIKES: 0.

FOLLOWERS: 0.

POINTS: 0.

COINS: 0.

CREDITS: 0.

TOKENS: 0.

BONUSES: 0.

POWER-UPS: 0.

REFERRALS: 0.

Fuuuuuuuu…. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

I went to try the door upstairs, but it was locked from the other side or something. The lock on my side just turned around and around. It wasn’t quite my mom’s place either and stuff. The details were somehow a little bit wrong or something. But there was still a toilet and super small shower in the back. And a mini-fridge. So I guess whatever happened next, at least it would be like having my own apartment and stuff… Totally cool.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 15

By Tim B.

On 31 August 2021

In Other

“Dad, what are you doing here and stuff?” I said.

“Dude,” he said, “you wouldn’t believe it. Shit has been crazy this past little bit. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get in touch.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Have you been here this whole time?”

“Come, come inside,” he said. We stood by the open doorway of like a giant empty warehouse or something. I noticed there were still security cameras everywhere.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been mostly here and stuff. And there,” he said, “before, you know. Coming here.”

“I think I know what you mean,” I said.

“Dad,” I asked, looking around at the cameras, and lowering my voice so only he could hear me. “Did they slip you nanites too?”

“That was, uh, after my time and stuff,” he said.

“Gotcha.”

“So, uh, what is this place, anyway?” I said.

“Maintanence & Storage Space 25-Alpha,” he said, very officially, and stuff. “Of the Conspiratopia Project, of the Northern Gestalt.”

“Uh… right,” I said. “Right. And, uh, what happens now?”

“I’m not really sure, bro” he told me. “I got a notification to come up here to open the door, with no other instructions or anything.”

“Weird,” I said. “Well, uh, what were you doing before you came up here?”

“Come on,” he said, walking toward the far side of the warehouse. “I’ll show you.”

I hadn’t seen it before, but there was a door on the far wall that was camouflaged almost, like the same color and texture as the wall. If you didn’t know what to look for, you might not even see it. My dad punched in a code on a keypad next to it that was also kinda disguised. The door unlocked, and we went in. It turned out to be a smallish elevator. There was just one button inside, and he pressed it, and I could tell we were descending.

“Wtf,” I said. “It’s underground?”

“Mmhm.”

It actually took kind of a while of going down before we stopped and stuff.

“Wow, we must be pretty deep,” I said.

“Yep,” was all he said.

The door opened, and he motioned for me to follow him. We went out into this long hallway tunnel thing that kinda sloped downward just a little bit.

At the end of it, there was another doorway, this one not hidden or whatever. My dad punched in another set of numbers onto the keypad, and it opened.

When we stepped through, my mind was pretty much blown. We were in like a fancy shopping mall type thing, but I guess it was totally underground? Except, you couldn’t really tell that it was underground because there were tropical plants like inside and also outside the windows and stuff. And like there was sunlight coming in through the windows, and you could see a sort of hazy blue sky and clouds and everything.

My dad saw me looking up at the sky and stuff, and was like, “Dude, holograms.”

“Omfg,” I said. “But what about inside, like the shops and the building and stuff? Holograms too?”

“Nope,” he said. “All real.”

“Goddamn, this is nuts,” I said. It really was nuts. I couldn’t believe how nuts it was.

A few people walked by, carrying shopping bags and stuff. They were dressed like rich people you see at vacation towns near the beach. They didn’t seem to notice us.

After that, a couple of those telepresence robot things drove by, like I’d seen earlier. The iPads on a stick with wheels, basically. With a person’s face on the screen. Controlling them from who knows where.

“So, this is it, then,” I said. “The City, or whatever. I made it…”

He smiled at me, and said, “You made it, Matty. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too, dad.”

“I’m sorry things got so fucked up.”

“I know,” I said. “Me too.”

“It’s my fault. I acted like a douche, and stuff.”

I didn’t say anything, but smiled, kind of agreeing.

“But I’ve got a new life or something now. And you’re here. We got another chance. We’re pretty lucky, cause most people don’t get that.”

“We’re super lucky, dad,” I agreed.

“Hey, uh, is there a food court around here or anything? I’m frickin’ starving,” I said.

“Yeah, man. Me too. Let’s go, and I can show you our place later.”

“Our place?” I said.

“Yeah, well, my place. But like, obvs you can stay with me,” he said, pointing me toward the food court. “You know, if you want to, or whatever. I don’t know how long you’re staying and stuff, or really even like if you’re staying. Or how you got here or, well, frickin’ anything. I’m just so happy to see you, Matty. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, dad. I’m happy to. I’ll tell you everything after I get like a frickin’ burger in me and stuff. All I had was like Cheetos and a couple Slim Jims and stuff. And like Powerade and a Rockstar…”

“Totes,” he said. “I know just the place.”