Fourth Wall

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***

"The situation is simple, Zeke," Chairman Phillips addressed me from across the varnished table. "We are simply not doing enough to leverage this economic climate to our particular advantage. What good is SimCorp if we cannot provide the reassurance that people fall back on during such times of uncertainty?"

I loosened my necktie. "You are correct, sir. The world has turned upside down, and no amount of capitalist gesturing is going to change that basic fact. You say business opportunity, I say it’s time for all of us to do some soul searching."

Phillips crossed his arms as he leaned back in his leather office chair. The squeak it made had always maddened me. "Soul searching? I wasn’t aware we had voted in a philosopher for a CEO."

"I’m not anything for you anymore." I yanked my tie out from beneath my collar. "I’m surrendering my badge." I paused, then tossed my phone on top of the yellow silk. "And my gun. Best of luck to you, gentlemen."

I marched to the elevator, which took nearly a minute to arrive, as usual. All that time, I waited for any sort of reaction: laughter, scoffing, Phillips begging me to stay. But I heard nothing, and thankfully the doors slid apart before I could start to reconsider my grand display. Theatrics don’t mean anything if the actor’s still on stage after the curtain drops.

I power walked through the halls of the company I’d given ten years of my life to, passing by marble columns and crystal desks. Always with appearances.

For the first time, I wondered if the columns truly were marble. If SimCorp’s motto was "Reality is as near or as far as you wish," then why would authenticity matter at all? If anything, wouldn’t the fact that even their own CEO was fooled into believing they were marble be another feather in the company’s cap?

Their cap. Damn, it felt good to put some distance between myself and the leviathan I had helped create.

I shoved through the front doors, sending them smacking against the outer limit of their hinges. The valet stepped forward to take my ticket, and instead I told him to keep my keys. He might have taken it as a joke, except I handed him $100 for gas.

Only then did he ask what I would drive to leave here.

"Whatever you drive is good enough for an ex-CEO," I said with a lopsided grin.

That turned out to be a Tesla, a novelty all its own. The man stood in his red vest, expecting me to revoke my insane offer at the sight of his ancient vehicle, but I clapped him on the back and wished him all the best.

On the drive home, I suppose—who could really say where I meant to go—I passed through the empty streets and reflected on the quietness of my "new" Tesla.

Electric vehicles, that's the innovation our predecessors were all so obsessed with. If only they knew how things could change in an instant, they might have acted with more foresight.

Before my mind could completely drift away from the act of driving, a message flashed on the driver console: Battery core integrity critical. Of course, my former valet could have mentioned this bit of outstanding maintenance, but no matter; I had a feeling that concepts like money would vanish altogether in the next few years.

I turned off the road as the sign for an auto parts store passed by.

The manager handed me a bill for $5,993.27, the cost of a new battery for my well-worn Tesla. I looked it over, held my card over the scanner, and turned to leave. That’s when the woman coughed and I spun around, expecting to hear the card had been declined.

But the manager was gone. And so was my car.

No matter the strange turn of events, a transaction was a transaction. I counted out $6,000 and left it on the counter—just in case the card had not gone through. In a moment, I was back outside walking the streets. I still could not say where I was going, but my feet moved of their own accord. I passed a few apartment windows with shades pulled up and stared at the residents within, their heads slumped beneath massive goggles.

The sun was lowering in the sky, casting a brilliant golden sheen over the city streets. Many years ago, smog would have covered everything in a brownish haze, but now the air here was as clean as any forest. In fact, it might be considered purer; the natural spots of the world had absorbed much of the carbon and pollutants of the previous world, and many people had avoided them since those long-gone days.

I passed an electronics store, its window full of traditional TVs. Behind the display, rows of goggles lined the walls, but my gaze was drawn toward the flat screens and news announcers sharing information that didn’t immediately satisfy and relax the viewer.

"Additional towns in Greenland overrun by encroaching glaciers," the news ticker read.

Our predecessors had focused all their energy on solving the greatest threat to human life: global warming. Countless technological solutions had focused on reducing carbon emissions and better managing waste.

But the true change had come when SimCorp had started selling goggles that allowed users to enter a new world. A virtual world that was superior to everything reality had to offer.

Now nearly all of humanity subsisted in these simulations, supported by minimal power supply and automated machines for managing nutrition, medical needs, and everything in between. With billions of humans perfectly content without travel, commuting, or even simple movement that had been responsible for the majority of energy consumption and waste, the problem had been neutralized in a handful of years.

Yet, the solution had proven too effective. With barely any carbon production, the pendulum had swung the other direction. Scientists now spoke of a new ice age, and glaciers that had nearly vanished were now growing at exponential rates. Sea routes were choked with ice year-round, and snow had buried some northern cities permanently. It was feared that more repercussions were on the horizon.

I realized my hands had gone numb. Damn, I’ve been watching these TVs too long.

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon, and I watched as the frost formed on the window in front of me. I tried the front door to the electronics store, but it was after hours.

Turning, I sprinted down the street, seeking shelter from the coming flash freeze. My foot caught a patch of ice, and I tumbled to the ground. I scrambled to stand, but my hands had already frozen to the pavement. I could only watch as the ice crawled up my exposed skin and beneath my suit jacket. Cold slowly morphed to warm, and darkness to white.

A voice spoke from beyond the white void I now sat in. "Another inspiring ending, sir. But perhaps the message was a bit too on the nose?"

I nodded. "Right you are, Simmons. This newest simulation model will only work with the right balance of freedom and familiarity. I defied every single social norm short of pure anarchy, and I wasn’t punished for deviance. Worse, I wasn’t rewarded for conformity. Without stakes, the illusion breaks."

I slid the goggles back over my eyes. "Good thing SimCorp pays me overtime for this."