The Book
Posted: Thu Aug 12, 2021 7:00 pm
Chapter One
“Here you are, sir. Filet mignon, medium rare, cooked in rosemary butter, served with a side of fresh grilled shrimp and crostini. Please enjoy.”
Casey Park politely bowed his head and withdrew from the table, striding back through the restaurant and pausing to pour water for a few guests before retreating to the server station near the back of the room. It was a busy night, as always at The Ladybug. It was the classiest establishment in City 24, set on the eightieth floor of a mighty skyscraper overlooking the entire cityscape. It was warm, and well lit, two luxuries not typical for denizens of the city, and the food was freshly caught and prepared instead of being served in plastic packaging out of vending machines as Casey was used to eating. It was a strange job, serving extravagant meals that he’d never even get a chance to eat if he saved up his entire life, but it paid well enough and it kept him on his feet.
Most people these days simply preferred to retreat into The Game, a massive virtual reality dreamscape that could be plugged into with nothing more than a simple headset. You could be anything, do anything, start relationships, even work your job online. Most people opted for such a lifestyle, working bureaucratic gigs in cyberspace, keeping the wheels of the machine turning by pushing around meaningless numbers so that everything could stay afloat. Casey never much had a taste for it. In his earlier years he’d been absolutely hooked on playing, but ever since he hit fifteen he’d simply… grown out of it. His first fight and his first kiss had really awoken him to the joys of reality, crappy as it could be at times. He refused to live in an illusion. It just made him feel dirty.
“Casey, I’m cutting you,” his manager Jack spoke from behind, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder. He was nineteen now, and had been waiting tables for a few years until finally managing to land this gig. “Hand me your checks and head home. We’re overstaffed.”
“I still have a few tables to-”
“Marcie’s taking them. Don’t worry about it.”
Sighing quietly, Casey nodded and withdrew the crumpled collection of receipt paper from his apron pocket, laying them out neatly and handing them to his boss before clocking out on the digital pad and heading to the staff elevator. You will never be caught dead using the same elevator as our guests, he remembered Jack emphatically warning him on the day he was hired. It’d been a decent shift, he made some good money, enough to pay the bills and help get him through one more week. That’s how he liked to take things, one week at a time, but recently it had been closer to one day at a time. It was all he could ever stomach to think about, like he was immersed in an endless body of water with no dry land in sight. Most days it was all he could do to stay afloat and avoid drowning.
The filthy elevator creaked and screeched as he descended all eighty floors, waiting quietly and browsing his phone. Once upon a time it held the same power over him as The Game did, but these days, even the wonderful little glowing box was starting to lose its charm. It was always the same crap, all the time. Either people were playing stupid games filled with explosions of color that forced them to spend money to progress, or they were obsessing over people’s opinions of them on social media, or they reading something stupid and pointless like the news. Who needed to constantly listen to stories of horrible deaths and tragedies all day long?
Still, there was nothing else for him to do, and the idea of sitting in silence without any stimuli to keep him engaged was a horrific proposition. He liked to scroll through images of nature, of mighty and ancient trees, beautiful snow-laden mountaintops, fresh rivers and lakes. He always wondered whether they really looked like they did in the pictures. He’d never seen a tree before, not in real life. They must smell so different, too, he wondered to himself. Hopefully they didn’t reek of urine like everything else in the city did.
Finally the elevator shambled to a halt and the doors creaked open, leading to the building lobby. Casey offered the doorman a polite nod and exited onto the street, withdrawing his Cloud and sticking the rectangular box right between his lips. A blast of cinnamon flavored vapor filled his lungs and calmed his anxiety, helping him to decompress after the lengthy shift. Just as he finished exhaling a blast of translucent smog, he noticed someone in a dark coat striding towards him with a sense of speed and purpose.
Nervously he reached into his back pocket and kept a tight grip on the handle of his knife. The man, strangely clean-looking and rather unblemished by the grime of the city, suddenly reached out and extended a black leatherbound book with no title on the cover.
“Here, I think you should have this.”
Raising a brow, the young man accepted the tome and clutched it to his chest nervously.
“What is this?”
But the figure simply walked off wordlessly and vanished into the night. He stared at the thing incredulously. A physical, paper book? What year was this? Nobody read these things anymore. Most people didn’t even bother to read them digitally anymore, not when they could just watch something instead. Still… maybe it’d be more interesting than what the phone held. It couldn’t hurt.
After the lengthy walk home through trash-laden streets, past ruined storefronts and rusty chain-link fences, he reached his apartment and unlocked the door with a quick thumb scan. “Hey babe, I’m home,” he greeted but received no answer. Lara must have been at work still, or maybe out clubbing.
He took a moment to remove his apron and unbutton his work shirt, sitting down on the couch with a deep sigh and opening up the book to its first page. The pages were waxy, or glossy perhaps, they felt pleasant to touch and had a nice look to them. His eyes squinted, unused to reading in this manner, slowly adjusting to the light of the room.
“In the beginning…” he read aloud. “God created the Heaven and the Earth…”
“Here you are, sir. Filet mignon, medium rare, cooked in rosemary butter, served with a side of fresh grilled shrimp and crostini. Please enjoy.”
Casey Park politely bowed his head and withdrew from the table, striding back through the restaurant and pausing to pour water for a few guests before retreating to the server station near the back of the room. It was a busy night, as always at The Ladybug. It was the classiest establishment in City 24, set on the eightieth floor of a mighty skyscraper overlooking the entire cityscape. It was warm, and well lit, two luxuries not typical for denizens of the city, and the food was freshly caught and prepared instead of being served in plastic packaging out of vending machines as Casey was used to eating. It was a strange job, serving extravagant meals that he’d never even get a chance to eat if he saved up his entire life, but it paid well enough and it kept him on his feet.
Most people these days simply preferred to retreat into The Game, a massive virtual reality dreamscape that could be plugged into with nothing more than a simple headset. You could be anything, do anything, start relationships, even work your job online. Most people opted for such a lifestyle, working bureaucratic gigs in cyberspace, keeping the wheels of the machine turning by pushing around meaningless numbers so that everything could stay afloat. Casey never much had a taste for it. In his earlier years he’d been absolutely hooked on playing, but ever since he hit fifteen he’d simply… grown out of it. His first fight and his first kiss had really awoken him to the joys of reality, crappy as it could be at times. He refused to live in an illusion. It just made him feel dirty.
“Casey, I’m cutting you,” his manager Jack spoke from behind, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder. He was nineteen now, and had been waiting tables for a few years until finally managing to land this gig. “Hand me your checks and head home. We’re overstaffed.”
“I still have a few tables to-”
“Marcie’s taking them. Don’t worry about it.”
Sighing quietly, Casey nodded and withdrew the crumpled collection of receipt paper from his apron pocket, laying them out neatly and handing them to his boss before clocking out on the digital pad and heading to the staff elevator. You will never be caught dead using the same elevator as our guests, he remembered Jack emphatically warning him on the day he was hired. It’d been a decent shift, he made some good money, enough to pay the bills and help get him through one more week. That’s how he liked to take things, one week at a time, but recently it had been closer to one day at a time. It was all he could ever stomach to think about, like he was immersed in an endless body of water with no dry land in sight. Most days it was all he could do to stay afloat and avoid drowning.
The filthy elevator creaked and screeched as he descended all eighty floors, waiting quietly and browsing his phone. Once upon a time it held the same power over him as The Game did, but these days, even the wonderful little glowing box was starting to lose its charm. It was always the same crap, all the time. Either people were playing stupid games filled with explosions of color that forced them to spend money to progress, or they were obsessing over people’s opinions of them on social media, or they reading something stupid and pointless like the news. Who needed to constantly listen to stories of horrible deaths and tragedies all day long?
Still, there was nothing else for him to do, and the idea of sitting in silence without any stimuli to keep him engaged was a horrific proposition. He liked to scroll through images of nature, of mighty and ancient trees, beautiful snow-laden mountaintops, fresh rivers and lakes. He always wondered whether they really looked like they did in the pictures. He’d never seen a tree before, not in real life. They must smell so different, too, he wondered to himself. Hopefully they didn’t reek of urine like everything else in the city did.
Finally the elevator shambled to a halt and the doors creaked open, leading to the building lobby. Casey offered the doorman a polite nod and exited onto the street, withdrawing his Cloud and sticking the rectangular box right between his lips. A blast of cinnamon flavored vapor filled his lungs and calmed his anxiety, helping him to decompress after the lengthy shift. Just as he finished exhaling a blast of translucent smog, he noticed someone in a dark coat striding towards him with a sense of speed and purpose.
Nervously he reached into his back pocket and kept a tight grip on the handle of his knife. The man, strangely clean-looking and rather unblemished by the grime of the city, suddenly reached out and extended a black leatherbound book with no title on the cover.
“Here, I think you should have this.”
Raising a brow, the young man accepted the tome and clutched it to his chest nervously.
“What is this?”
But the figure simply walked off wordlessly and vanished into the night. He stared at the thing incredulously. A physical, paper book? What year was this? Nobody read these things anymore. Most people didn’t even bother to read them digitally anymore, not when they could just watch something instead. Still… maybe it’d be more interesting than what the phone held. It couldn’t hurt.
After the lengthy walk home through trash-laden streets, past ruined storefronts and rusty chain-link fences, he reached his apartment and unlocked the door with a quick thumb scan. “Hey babe, I’m home,” he greeted but received no answer. Lara must have been at work still, or maybe out clubbing.
He took a moment to remove his apron and unbutton his work shirt, sitting down on the couch with a deep sigh and opening up the book to its first page. The pages were waxy, or glossy perhaps, they felt pleasant to touch and had a nice look to them. His eyes squinted, unused to reading in this manner, slowly adjusting to the light of the room.
“In the beginning…” he read aloud. “God created the Heaven and the Earth…”