Chapter 3 (Cont.)
Ttterrrrrrtrrrrtrrrtrrrrrrrtrrrr... Ririttrrttrrttrrtkkrtkksstttslll... Ttrrikktttrrrtiiikkrrttttt... There was a strange signal coming from the locked trunk. My palm was latched onto the curvecrack, a postmodernly decorated one, of the trunk. With no way of opening it, signal assessment was my last resort. In addition to the base programs, the governments around the New World Federation, dare I say, "bestows" upon its subjects, there were also a major business of additional firmwares. Naturally, after dooming then saving the world, corporations needed eager participants for their ambitions. Throughout the NWF, cybernetics and in-vitro softwares were among the top businesses, the babies needed their tantrums addressed to after all. As extensive hypothetical speculation would suggest, there were those who were content with base softwares, there were those whose major field of interests involved upgrading, and then there were those for whom body modifications were of paramount obsession. The situation was alike in practical state. Here are the clues: dystopian governments, post-human existence, marginalised communities. Hypnotic oppression thrives. Businesses boom. And both the disillusioned and the possessed wake up in their beds each day: artificial sunlight, filtrate of synthetic ozone layers, penetrating their utilitarian windowframes bereft of splendour, fall over their eyes. If that doesn't wake them up, then soon the strategically placed alarm would, and upon having fought off the psychic shackles of somnium which provided beautiful escapism, they would realise: being better than others is no longer an advantage but a necessity. The wealthy would chase the honeyed traps of corporate products, essentially dooming themselves to further investments perpetually. The poor would chase black market bootlegs and non-corpo products, essentially dooming themselves to insidious malwares if they get unlucky. This parallel scenario looks distinct from the outside: "Hah! The upper class is procuring great assets from trusted experts. How can you equate that to the filth of the society getting junkwares?!!". The question is hypothetical, because submitting to the practise was the norm and questioning it was the exception. Of course, nothing is black and white, there were people I met, albeit rare, who were both indulging in cybernetics and criticising the practise simultaneously. So the outside view which so clearly segmented the premium and the junk, upon closer scrutiny, revealed that some were in lavish, ornate opium dens and others were in the gutter with HIV-ridden syringes to their veins. The dragon chasing was not necessarily to escape, but to absolve the users of their sense of doubt in this perfectly functional artificial society. Among the spacious varieties of premiumwares, lucidwares and junkwares, there were also a small portion of esotericwares. Created by brilliant outcasts throughout the NWF, these hardware cybernetics and software modules were outside the bounds of what the government would consider acceptable. In fact, the governments were deeply paranoid about them and had manifold projects aimed at eradicating them, their users and their creators alike. I was born in Tatterstown, lived there my whole life and it's been only two months since I have relocated to another city. As such, the empirical evidence that I have thus far is limited. I haven't properly figured out the new city yet but Tatterstown's authority had clandestine warfares going on with producers of esotericwares: a lot of the producers had formed secret organisations. I imagine it's akin to the elusive bands of ascended mages depicted in some old world mythologies. These groups were indeed magical in how they stood as national affront yet without the slightest presence in the affrontal fields. And it's similarly magical how I had chanced into one such bunch: the Goreloggers.
Funtitled #18
Affairs Mk. 3 VII / On Earth as it is in heaven...