Tag: transport

Conspiratopia: Chapter 20

On 8 September 2021

The job turned out to be putting toxic waste and stuff into barrels, which was actually totally cool. I mean it was like really no big deal, even. It didn’t seem that dangerous idk. Cause they gave you like all the personal protective equipment. Like disposable face masks and rubber gloves and stuff. So that was rad.

I was on the medical waste transport and disposal team. We mostly worked on autopilot around the rehabilitation complex, emptying trash and dealing with like used needles and stuff. It was kinda nasty sometimes, but it was pretty much fun af to play first-person shooter games with the other staff inside the clinic compounds in VR while on overwrite. Hells yeah. I earned tons of bonuses like that actually.

A lot of the treatment facilities I guess were giving people some pretty hard drugs, idk. I didn’t ask too many questions about the details. Cause who cares. But I saw a lot of like pretty rich looking tourists or shoppers or whatever going in for treatments who looked pretty haggard, and when they came out they were looking way more stoned than me even. Lol.

Apparently the shoppers or whatever were some of the only people at the Conspiratopia Project who were not continuously on overwrite. Though some of them still did it, and some did it a lot. But usually we couldn’t really interact with them in games. So like, whatever games they got to play in VR while on overwrite, apparently they couldn’t see us shooting each other – or them. Which I guess is probably for the best. Because if you’re in there for some kinda crazy drug treatment, you probably don’t want to see holographic simulations inside your head of you being blown up with a missile launcher. Or maybe you do, idk. I think that would probably eff with your head though, you know? It’s hard to even like look at yourself in the mirror if you’re too stoned somtimes. Never mind eating a missile in the face from somebody in a giant cybernetic gorilla-mouse avatar.

I heard from some of the other guys on my work crew after we got off, that like I guess for the Shoppers, they weren’t officially in the Conspiratopia Project. For them, they lived in or I guess were visiting something called Shoppertopia. Which I guess explains why the games and VR and stuff were on different systems. Supposedly there were a bunch of other independent ‘topias in different areas dedicated to different things.

Once the algorithm put you into one of them though, everyone said it was like really hard and stuff to get put into a different one. Like you couldn’t just transfer out, because recruiting was based on all those like crazy personality tests and surveys to figure out the best match. But you could still earn citizenship on whichever ‘topia they put you when you were admitted. And then you could do all kinds of stuff you couldn’t do before. Like new levels in games, and some music and movies you could listen to or watch that you couldn’t before, plus some like foods and flavors and stuff. Plus I guess like laws about which kind of VR you could do were different. It was totally cool. It was like, idk, reality but gamified. Totally rad af.

I was pumped I was gonna level up because of this gig, man. Or at least that’s what they told me would happen, when I got assigned out from smart carts. I didn’t mind the gig itself. It was autopilot and safe anyway, though I did notice after work a few times signing off that my gloves were ripped, and a couple times my finger tips were bleeding because they musta been pricked on something. They took blood tests and a whole buncha other tests on us all the time though, so I wasn’t too worried about. Plus I knew like, we were a very special dedicated efficiency team, and those are like super important and stuff. ‘Topias don’t run without those. Everybody knew that. They weren’t gonna just like let us get hurt or sick or something, because like how would they even replace us?

A week later, I came down with something. My whole crew got super sick, and then they replaced me. No joke. Actually, I heard they nixed the whole team, but apparently they had like no problem at all replacing all the workers finally. Not one bit. I guess I should of known.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 16

By Tim B.

On 2 September 2021

In Other

“Wow, this is really good and stuff,” I said to my dad, my mouth full of burger. It was really good for real.

“I know, right?” my dad said. It was so cool to see him again. Felt like old times and whatnot.

We were sitting at a small table outside this thing that looked like on of those airport pubs in the underground mall city or whatever where my dad lived now. He was telling me about his job and stuff.

“Yeah, it’s totally cool, and stuff,” he was saying. “My group does a little bit of everything. We’re actually pretty technical. We even do some light maintenance on the robots. Plus like a lot of facilities management, which is really important. Like changing doorknobs or light bulbs. Cleaning up the bathrooms, taking out the trash. You know. It’s a really big deal here cause you know the whole thing’s underground. Well, mostly. So like that’s all we got.”

“Yeah, man,” I said. “Very cool. I guess you must be earning a lot of money and stuff if you do all that.”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Pretty rad, for sure. Pays decent too. We don’t use dollars actually, but it works out to about fifteen dollars an hour or something, I think.”

I was only making like $10.50 an hour pushing shopping carts at Walmart, so I thought that sounded like a pretty sweet deal.

“And I guess you probably get like a free apartment or something, right?”

“Well, not exactly,” my dad said. “It comes out of my credits and stuff, you know? Just like anywhere. It’s pretty small, but it’s really nice, you’ll see. I even have a fold-out couch you could sleep on. And we can share the mini-fridge.”

“Damn, that sounds nice,” I said. I was missing my mom’s basement for sure, after being cooped up in that pod thing or whatever the hell it was that brought me here. It was good to get some real food in me too, and I was feeling like I was getting back to normal. Maybe even a new normal, and stuff. Here with my dad. I didn’t know yet what I was gonna do. If I was gonna stay or whatever, or like if I could even leave if that drone was already gone.

“What did you call this burger again?” I asked him.

“Radmeat,” he said.

“That’s a rad name,” I replied.

“I know. We make it locally too. Well, not me we, but like it’s made here by another group.”

“What do you mean it’s made?” I said, suddenly slowing down as I chewed.

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s no red meat here because we’re underground and on an island and stuff. It would be really expensive to get it shipped or flown in or whatever. So we have radmeat instead. They make it in big vats here from like…”

I put the burger down. “Vats?”

“Yeah, I mean I don’t know the technical terms. But its like, ah, cultured meat and vegetable proteins, I think?”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, I guess,” I said, reconsidering.

“Yeah, no. It’s actually really cool. I think it’s made from uh, rat embryos, edible insects, and, um, lentils or something. At least I think, that’s what they say around the shop at work.”

“So, Radmeat is actually rat meat?”

“Well, not only that. Also cockroaches and lentils.”

“Well, I do like lentils, actually,” I said, picking up the burger again to look at it more closely. It just looked – and tasted – like a burger. No like rat parts or bugs legs or anything sticking out of it. I took another bite, and decided I didn’t care. Thinking about lentils made me miss my mom though. She was gonna be pissed about the car, and I couldn’t just disappear on her. Well, like dad did.

“Dad,” I said, “I just realized I gotta call mom. She’s gonna be super worried and stuff.”

“When did you talk to her last?”

“I told her I got a new job and was gonna crash at Mikey’s for a couple days. Only problem is idk how long ago that was now. Could be a couple days I guess. Can I call her? My phone’s dead.”

“We’ll have to get permission,” he said. “But I’ll make sure we can get it soon.”

“Permission?” I said, confused.

“To contact the outside world, yeah. People in our group have restricted contact.”

“Wth?” I said. “That sounds sketchy af. Is this like a cult or something? You can’t contact anybody without permission?”

“Dude, relax. You know me. Would I ever join a cult?” he said.

I thought about it for a minute and decided I wasn’t sure.

Just then, my dad’s phone beeped and buzzed. He took it out and looked at it.

“Okay, we gotta go,” he said. “It’s our turn.”

“Our turn for what?” I asked.

“To see the big guy, and figure out what you’re doing here.”