Compos Mentis
My name is VDR_10. I have no memories before I was seventeen. Most of the people I work with don’t recollect anything before they got here either.
My best friend AXD_24 is my age. He and I routinely help each other at work. We enjoy what we do.
In the beginning, we struggled mightily with even small climbs and continually kept slipping, but over time, we got better. We always kept an eye on the leaderboard as we gradually started moving up, both on the mountains and the scoring.
There were always those who tried to impede our progress and many a time succeeded. Nothing bad could ever happen to any of us so it didn’t matter. We fell, lost some points, and went at it again.
On some days, I felt very lethargic and my body would just not listen to me. A light-headedness would overtake me and I would feel good and happy but my climbing would suffer.
Soon, I was on top of the table. I had developed such alacrity and skills that I could make any ascent almost blindfolded. On one particularly hard climb, when I barely beat my closest competitor, I wondered what next? Why was I climbing these mountains every day? I needed a sense of purpose.
I needed to speak to ‘The Voice’.
We all heard ‘The Voice’ but everyone heard a different voice. It was something deep inside that spoke to us. Sometimes, I would wake up in the middle of my sleep and would go climbing. I sensed ‘The Voice’ had something to do with it. I never questioned it but today I was feeling especially belligerent. I wanted to know what was outside these mountains and why we all climbed them and did nothing else. I was certain there was a different world out there that I needed to get to. I spoke to ‘The Voice’.
David recoiled in surprise when he heard the question. He looked around the room and at the TV. He peered out of the window. The streets were quiet. He listened closely again, pretty certain that his drug-affected brain had made it up. He knew he had overdosed the previous night, but so had he on many nights. The question was now clearer and more insistent. He rubbed his eyes in his befuddled state and attempted to focus.
“How do I get out?”
“From where?” David blurted to the room.
“I have had it here. I cannot go on. I need to get out.”
David took another sniff of the powder. His brain was on fire and the combination of the drugs and what was happening knocked him out.
I woke up with a start. Had I imagined all of that? I was pretty sure I heard ‘The Voice’ talk back to me. I looked around. Everything was different. I could still see the mountain top but it looked different; like I was looking at it from outside. I jerked up and my knee hit the table. A strange sensation went through me.
I slowly removed the contraption on my head and examined the words written on it. Only the first word was vaguely familiar — “Virtual Reality Helmet.”
David was dead. I had transcended the virtual world. I was free. Now to get the others out.
