"I couldn’t give a cargo pant’s pocket what a person 'does'. What you do isn’t who you are. I’ll tell you what champ, you want to learn something about someone? Ask them about the weather. At least then, you’ll learn something about their perspective on things. The same day could get you a million different answers.”
———
"So I says to myself, Eddy, Eddy I says, its high time I stop tryin’ to fish yesterdays pond. No matter how much salt you add to the batter, it ain’t gonna get any sweeter."
I had only been at the meet and greet for a moment when the man had came up to me, extending a weathered hand. Eddy looked to be somewhere in his early 70’s. A mop of thick gray hair on his head that hadn’t been touched by a comb in years. He had dove straight in to his tale.
Unlike my circumstances, there had been no conniving needed to bring him to the Proxy Project. Eddy and his wife had spent the better part of three decades exploring the world, going to over 180 countries. They lived by the seats of their pants, pouring most of their savings happily in to travel. A few years back, his wife had received a terminal diagnosis and their lives shifted towards caring for her. She had passed recently, and he had started attending a grief counseling group. It was there that he met Leroy, who would soon become his game attendant. Leroy had chosen to recruit from a grief counseling session because he was going through loss himself. He was searching for a tester while tending to the recent loss of his father. He was finding a lot of solace from the group and began to feel a respect and camaraderie with the people of this world. Leroy had asked Eddy how he would like to spend his remaining years and Eddy had told him he would love to to continue to explore, to see things never seen before. Aside from social security however, he had no income, so he wasn’t sure how it would be possible. He would need to find a job. Leroy explained the project to him, how he could guarantee an experience that none had before and few would ever have. How he could earn huge sums of money. Eddy had always been a go with the flow type of a guy, and that was all he needed to hear.
"You took him at his word?"
"Kid, I’ve been around the world many times over. Well, our world at least. Met people of all shapes, sizes, preferences and habits. I long ago developed the muscle of looking past the presentation and seeing the presenter. As far as the whole…" he leaned in and murmured the next word, "alien thing goes? Good character doesn’t discriminate by species. I’ve come across noble pigeons and asshole squirrels. Leroy is a good guy, that was all I needed to know."
I looked with admiration at the odd old man. I liked this guy.
"What’s your story?" He asked.
I started to go a little red. Why hadn’t I prepared a less sad but believable tale? Eddy was one of those guys you just want to tell the truth to. So I went with the truth. "I was late for work and got shanghaied by a seductress at the train station."
He laughed and gave me a slap on the shoulder. "Well slap my pickle and call me Susan. Been there lad. You ain’t the first and won’t be the last. Live and learn, eh?"
Eddy, you ol’ dawg.
The banquet hall was expansive, with a shiny bar and horseshoe buffet table on one side and a central platform where a trio of Alfreds played an interesting genre of music I’d never encountered before. Rows of sensors and flickering lights adorned the high ceiling, giving the space a subtly futuristic feel. Tables were scattered around the hall, and we settled at one near the robot band that still had a few open chairs.
We introduced ourselves to the others at the table: Maria, a city councilor running for mayor who had signed on in exchange for what she believed to be a vote. Sameer, a recent graduate and top-rated TaskRabbit worker buried in student debt; he had been sold the project on money. Naomi, a neuroscientist with a friendly demeanor and inquisitive gaze; she had been sold on intellectual curiosity. And Father Chris, a traveling preacher, his garb and roman collar contrasting his disheveled hair, mess of a beard, and bloodshot eyes. Eddy once again dove in to his longwinded story, and I sat back, content to hear the old kook weave his tale for a second time. Before he got far, a commotion stole away our attention.
A young man, who based on appearance was looked to be from the same planet as Leonora, burst into the room. He was dressed head to toe in a bright purple tracksuit. He beelined for the closest Alfred, the one playing the guitar in the corner. His face was drawn with desperation, and he glanced over his shoulder before opening a hidden panel on the side of the front man’s skull. He inserted what looked like a credit card and sealed the panel back up.
The drummer and the bassist stopped playing, looks of uncertainty on their robotic faces. The sound of the instruments reverberated in the air for a moment before fading into eerie silence.
The Alfred began spewing out a jarring sound, reminiscent of a dial up computer fighting to connect to the early internet. His head twitched, face running spastically through a spectrum of expressions.
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The lights in the room flickered and the Alfred spoke, but in a flat lifeless tone, not the cheery one he typically had.
‘Override denied, intervention activated.’
"Whoopsie…", the man tried to reach for the panel again. But too slow.
The Alfred’s arm snapped out and grabbed him by the neck. He gave one swift twist, and the man crumbled to the floor. I looked out in horror at the dead man in front of us. The hall descended into an eery silence. It was quickly replaced by a hiss as a thick smoky gas penetrated out from the walls and ceiling.
"What the hell is going on?" Naomi whispered, barely audible.
Father Chris crossed himself, muttering prayers under his breath.
The smoke gas overwhelmed us. Not for the first time in recent days, I was rendered unconscious.
——-
I woke up to the sight of Leonora hanging over me. She wore an indiscernible expression on her face.
"On behalf of the entire organization I want to apologize for the ordeal at the tester event."
Alfred was behind her. His head hung low and he spoke waveringly. "I killed that man…"
Leonora leaned in and whispered. "Alfreds are not built for violence. We’re prepping a cognitive behavioral therapy patch for his software to help him cope with the trauma."
"Hey, it wasn’t exactly how I was hoping to spend the evening either Leonora And that knock out gas can’t be good for me."
"That gas was nothing more than a non-toxic sleep aid. It was administered out of precaution for your safety, we don’t know what that traitors plans were. And as a gesture of goodwill, we are giving all testers a share in the project. Wash and get dressed, it is time for your weekly review session.”
A few minutes later and I was settled behind my desk, on which sat the guidebook and a smattering of notes that I had been taking. I had been forcing myself to study the guidebook each day and I was starting to wrap my head around this Proxy Project. Or at the very least my role in it. Leonora called it a technologically levered cutting edge corporate experiment, but from my perspective, it was a choice based game. A choice based game in which I was somehow both the player and main character, and which had real consequences. My objective was to raise my stats as much as possible, which would correlate to success and opportunities for my proxy. If I did well, I would also be getting equity in the project, which according to Leonora was worth a boatload. It wasn’t sure what would happen if I did poorly, but from what Leonora had told me thus far, it was in my best interest to take this seriously. She stood across from me.
Strength - 47
Constitution - 48 (-1)
Intelligence - 44
Wisdom - 30
Charisma - 36
Discipline - 43
Wealth -66
"Not a bad start, Tommy. You took a step forward in Strength, but don’t get too excited. It’s mostly because you had been a maladroit bum for so long, just doing anything gave you a big leap forward. The boosts won’t always come so easily. Diminishing marginal returns, basic principle of the universe."
She looked at her tablet, looked up at me, and then back down again.
"The action selected to review documentation presented to you was the main driver behind the increase in discipline."
"Yeah, not going to make that mistake again."
She didn’t say anything for a moment. Perhaps I saw a touch of remorse in her eyes. I still couldn’t tell how she fit in to all of this. There had been subtle signs over the week that gave me the impression she had much less authority than I thought. That maybe she didn’t want to be here. That she was being forced in to playing a game of her own.
"The wealth statistic is influenced by both your current wealth, and your projected wealth. The decrease came from you losing out on a salary. It would have been more significant had you not partnered up with your friend James on that virtual reality investment, or if you hadn’t registered for unemployment benefits. The Charisma increase was influenced primarily by you hosting that impromptu celebration with your former coworkers. Oh, you did also lose ground in constitution. You picked up ringworm from that ridiculous looking guy at that gym. I don’t think your Proxy has noticed yet…’ she scrolled through her tablet. ‘No, he hasn’t. Hopefully he does soon. You’ll want to get that treated. It’s gross."
"Good work though, all things considered. You remained in good standing with the project throughout the week, meaning you maintain the highest level of privileges available to testers. You can track your standing via the light above the center screen. Green indicates good standing, yellow, neutral standing, and red is poor standing."
She grabbed the remote, using it to drill into my tester profile on the screen to the left. "Look here, and you can see that the cumulative attribute enhancement resulted 0.11 shares deposited in to your account."
A surge of adrenaline charged through my veins as the information on the screen registered. I nearly fell out of the chair.
NAME: Tommy Braddock
SHARES: 1.11
SHARE PRICE: $242,808.60
ACCOUNT VALUE: $269,517.54
BUY OUT SHARE COUNT: 5
Hot damn.
