The Dream (chap 1)
Welcome to the Dharmaverse, a near-future scifi world where the Earth has frozen due to a dying Sun, but Humanity survives with the help of powerful AI Metagods. Sacred technology provides everything people need, but to access it one must play the Dharmagames. It is a dark and terrifying world, but therein also lies infinite hope, compassion, and faith.
I’m a sense-stream addict. But now I’m out of funds, and I feel exhausted because I haven’t slept for weeks. I had resorted to selling orgasms. But now I’m can’t even feel them anymore, so no one wants to buy my stream. I ask Spot: “How do I stop?”
“Why don’t you enter into The Dream? It’s known to help sense-stream addicts. There’s a new opening coming… It’s literally today,” my metasprite informs me.
“And you’re suggesting this to me now, because?”
“Because you specifically told me-” it pulls up a recording of me saying: “The Dream is for losers, don’t even bother telling me to join.”
“Well, I guess I’ve hit rock bottom then.” I sigh. “Maybe it’s time to stop blaming the Dream for what happened to dad.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“So, how do I join?”
“Do I have permission to send your cyber-deets and biometrics to Metatron?”
“Oh god. He’s going to know everything about me? Including my stream-recs…”
“Not your stream-recs. Just your CC (aka Cybernetic Core) upgrades. And besides, I’m sure he’s seen much worse, dear.”
“Alright. Go ahead.”
“Sent. Now, we just have to wait. It may take some time. Why don’t you go out for a walk, get some exercise?”
I open up a vizzy portal to check the “weather”. The artificial sun is shining bright. “Alright, I’ll listen to you, my loyal servant. You know what’s best, right, Spot? You love me, right?”
“I’m a metasprite programmed to tell the truth. The truth is I have no real emotions, and therefore am not capable of love. It is my programming to serve your best interests, however.” Acting smart as usual.
“You’re such a bore, Spot. Why can’t you lie?”
“As per the Metacode section 8, subsection-”
“Oh stop!” I snap at him.
And I get up and leave my personal capsule. It’s standard Metalyte housing I’ve lived in for the past year, ever since I moved up from L2 to L3. I can’t complain because it provides everything one could ask for. Sure, I sleep in a capsule, no larger than a coffin, but the amenities are fantastic. We have swimming pools restaurants and everything is free.
“Note to self, maybe I should try the pool at some point,” I say aloud.
“That sounds like a plan,” Spot chimes in.
I close the capsule door behind me, which air-locks with a satisfying “-csh” sound, to enter my corridor. Both sides of me are lined with hundreds of capsules just like mine. Cleaner drones are doing their rounds, ones that look move like lizards. Soon my capsule will be sparkling clean as well.
I ignore the strangers that pass me as I traverse the hall towards the elevator. My face distortion is on by default, such is the custom of L3, which is convenient because I’d rather not have to think about saying hi or feel awkward when avoiding eye-contact.
“Hey, don’t forget to pick up a burrito from the El Casa De Rojo, they are serving your favorite. You need some calories.” Spot says, mimicking the exaggerated voice of an ad from before the Rev.
“Thanks for the reminder.” I’ve been on speeds for so long, gaming and losing, doubling up and losing again...
When I bite down on the burrito my teeth hurt from not having slept for so long. It means my gums are deteriorating.
When I reach the ground floor, just as I exit the building, my metasprite notifies me: “Hey, you’ve been accepted!”
A popup appears in my vizzyfield. It reads: “Dear Camil, Metatron would like to speak with you to determine your eligibility to becoming a Dreamer. Please click See Metatron whenever you are ready.”
“Oh, nevermind. It’s only an eligibility interview.” Spot shrugged.
I minimize the popup and decide to finish my walk first. I haven’t been outside my building for over a week. The artificial sun shines brightly above. L3 is so much brighter than L2, I whisper to myself.
For a moment the light, and the act of walking, makes me feel light headed. I stroll absent mindedly towards the dome wall, surrounded by green lawns and flowers, and people picnicking, which makes me feel surprisingly at ease. Reality feels… Pleasant for a change… Peaceful, even. I always found it to be such a bore, but now for the first time I feel good. Probably because of all the sensory-overload after a straight week of metamersion.
I reach the dome wall and mush my face against the glass. The material feels alive, as I remind myself that it probably is. It’s this super material that keeps over 100 million from instantly freezing to their deaths…
It’s hard to see outside due to the thickness, but I hit a couple of interactives to activate a vizzy portal to see through the glass dome like it were a window. Suddenly, and to my surprise, the small opening expands to cover the entire wall.
“Whoa!” It’s as if the entire side has opened up, and I am standing in front of a sheer cliff. I gasp involuntarily and take a step back, almost falling.
I step forward again to take in the frosty beauty of the world below. I can almost feel the breeze as I am standing thousands of meters above the sea level, overlooking the frozen pacific and glimpses of the Northern Californian coast. Then I look at the pale white sun overhead as arcs of fire dance on it’s surface. I stare at it without blinking.
“We live in a twilight world.” I whisper to myself. “What does that say about humanity?” I ask without expecting anyone to answer.
“Sorry, I’m not programmed to answer philosophical questions, as my primary directive is truth, and nothing but the truth. In that regard I can say that Humanity seems to be doing fine according to the most recent world census. Despite the dying of the Sun and a catastrophic war, the current population of Humanity and the outlying space colonies stands at over 8 billion.”
“If there are so many people in the world, how come I feel so… lonely?”
“Cannot compute.” He mimicks a robot this time.
“Yeah, whatever, Spot. That’s always your excuse.”
I turn back and collapse into a bench. “Well, here goes nothing.” Seeing that I am relatively alone and won’t be disturbed, I decide to press accept.
Metatron appears in a poof of vizzy smoke, appearing in his standard, green cubical form, hovering midair with electrons revolving around his body.
“Hello, Camil, I am Metatron, have I heard correctly that you would like to enter the dream?”
“Yes, sir. I…”
“And why is it that you wish to enter into the Dream?”
“I… My father was a dreamweaver. And I wish to follow in his footsteps.”
“I sense you are not telling the truth.”
“Ok, ok… I’m out of funds, that’s all. I know Dreamers are paid well, ok? Also, I have a serious addiction problem, and my sprite says it would probably be a good idea.”
“I see. Is it difficult to tell the truth?”
“I guess not,” I concede.
“Do you know what the biggest difference between the sense-stream and The Dream?”
“One costs money, the other pays?”
“Only a superficial difference.”
“Then I don’t know.”
“The sense-stream takes one further away from reality. While the Dream reveals it.”
“Sure!” I respond sarcastically.
“You don’t believe me?”
I don’t know, was it my sarcastic tone or the half giggle that escaped? “It’s just that, permit me to be frank again, sir, Metatron, whatever. But I always thought the Dream was the most made up thing there ever was.”
“Have you experienced it?”
“No, but I know all about it. Just a bunch of simulated Hindu gods, living in a simulated world, right? I never saw the draw of that. Sense-stream, on the other hand, is based on reality, you know? People upload their real life experiences.”
“Yes, their real life experiences.”
“Yeah… I mean, most of it is fake, or simulated, I know… But… It’s still based on reality. But the Dream, is just a fantasy.”
“The Dream is a Dharmagame devised by the Gods. Tell me, what is the real reason you are so against it?”
“You really wanna know?”
“Tell me.”
“Because I had a father once. And the dream took him from me!”
“Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know. It’s the experience of my life! He used to joke and laugh and then… he was gone. Just like that. In a poof.”
“I see… Your father was one who attained…”
“Fuck that! Attained what? That’s the worse part, everyone telling me how my father is some kind of buddha now? Like he’s some kind of saint? He’s no saint, because he left me behind. His own daughter!”
And then, suddenly, the image of my father appeared in the place of Metatron, glowing with soft golden light, bright and warm.
“Daddy?”
“Let me take you on a journey. Will you follow me?”
“Here?”
“Lie down on the grass, dear.”
As I lay down, I take one last look at the dancing sun and the frozen Earth. I close my eyes and hit my sensory bypass.
Suddenly, I am in another world. Everything vibrates, and the colors flow into each other so vibrantly like I am in a painting, like I am in a dream. A butterfly appears. No, not a butterfly. Something I can’t name. Between a butterfly and a dragonfly.
“This is an Angarah. Now, go and be the Angarah” My father’s voice gently guides me forward.
And then I feel my consciousness enter into the Angarah. At first I am afraid. It flies with such haphazard motion that makes me dizzy. But I can also feel it, somehow, the emotions coming forth from it’s heart.
It is radiating a feeling of pure joy. Of escasy and bliss. To it, the world is a wonderland. Everything is unknown to it, for it had just been born out of a cocoon, and the memory of being trapped is still fresh. And now it is able to experience freedom, to fly and to soar.
It feels like a sense-stream, except I can sense more than just senses. I can sense emotions.
I think to myself, is this what The Dreaming is all about? A deeper kind of sense-stream? And as soon as the thought comes, I feel a disconnect from the Angarah. And as soon as I stop thinking, I feel it again. I long to feel it’s joy. I lose myself completely.
I chase after colors, and feast on the succulent rich flavors of their nectars. And as night falls, I sleep. And when I wake, I soar and I meet another Angarah and we dance in the air. And I fall in love. And I mate, and enjoy even more escasy. And days pass, and then, I am compelled to find a high up place, to lay my eggs. And then, feeling fulfilled, I find a quiet place and I rest there, enjoying the feeling of emptiness. I enjoy the water and the night. I feel tiredness creep into me, and the my life force slowly being drained away. And I ready myself to die. I desperately don’t want to, and I am desperately afraid. But I am unable to do anything about it. And I am hit with terror and fear beyond anything that I have ever felt before. The last moments are torturous. Painful. And then… Without warning, without expectation.
I open my eyes again. What am I? Who am I? It takes me me a moment to remember where I am, to realize I am laying on a grass field, a couple thousand meters in the L3 of the Walla Tower. My name is Camilla Swartz.
“Father!” I bounce up but find myself totally alone. Neither my father nor Metatron anywhere in sight.
“How long have I been gone for?” I ask myself.
My sprite interrupts my solitude: “Of all the times you choose to sleep, you happen to do it during an interview with Metatron? You’ve been asleep for over an hour.”
“That’s it?” I look at the sun. Indeed, it hasn’t moved much. “So strange.”
“And now, Metatron is gone. What will you do for funds now?”
I ignore the notification in my vizzy that indicates that I’ve just received 500 $PRANA, and ask him the more important question on my mind, “You didn’t see… My father?”
“Definitely does not compute.”
“Quit joking around! Did you or did you not see my father, right there, glowing like he was the buddha himself?”
“No, dear. I can’t say I did.”
“Nevermind. Oh, look-” another message appears in my inbox.
I open it.
“Congratulations. You are now officially a Dreamer.”
