Work/Play - Chapter 1: Lightrail

Plaiyda Rook gazed at the light streaking by the digital window of the Lightrail, mesmerized by how every jolt and jostle was mirrored on the visualizer. When the light-speed rails first launched in Rootspace, people eagerly anticipated sci-fi visuals from every window. Finally, an experience that even the latest game consoles couldn’t replicate! Instead, they got windowless boxes. An engineer probably joked, “What were you expecting to see, FASTER light?”

Well, yes, that was exactly what most people expected. So they installed screens, and suddenly, passengers could orient themselves while hurtling at light speed.

Fortunately, most people are content living in a fantasy. That’s why they came here, after all—to stave off the apocalypse in a simulation with the edges smoothed over. To wait long enough to become like gods, ready to confront (or even cause) the world’s problems.

A bell chimed, and an analogue voice announced Parity Point, pulling Plaiyda out of her reverie. Parity Point lay right on the border between Rootspace and Seedspace, making it the perfect location for her workplace, Patch & Pay, to set up shop.

When people first arrive in the simulation, known as the Arborium, they enter through Seedspace. Seedspace is designed to help newcomers acclimate to the strange challenges that living in a simulation poses. It offers them a chance to spread their wings—both metaphorically and, for some, literally.

“Patch & Pay helps Seedlings achieve freedom by addressing and fixing internal obstacles.” That’s what Plaiyda told herself, anyway. Another part of her knew it was just a new kind of shakedown for a new kind of refugee.

As Plaiyda stepped off the train, it disappeared behind her in a burst of light. She walked away from the station and spread her wings.

Nobody knows why so many people arrive at the Arborium with wings. Some theorized it was the influence of ancient religious fanatics who romanticized winged angels. For a long time in Rootspace, winged beings were banned, dismissed as illegal religious symbols. Eventually, wings were legalized, but the stigma persisted. Nobody repects “Flighties,” and nobody hires them.

Which is why Plaiyda was hustling to a job she despised, conning honest people out of themselves. Gotta make those Ticks. She had no desire to return to being a tourist. Not even with the light-speed rail; she wasn’t going back to Seedspace.

Plaiyda finally approached Patch & Pay’s Hotfix Hall. She just needed a decent place to land, preferably without dealing with some wingist jerk. Deciding not to risk it, she opted to land in a nearby park instead.

Once at work, she was greeted by the disembodied voice of her boss, the eponymous Patch. “Plaiyda, you’re 4.5 Ticks late for work. Those missing cycles will be deducted from your pay, along with the overtime for the employee covering your shift.”

Plaiyda had never met Patch face-to-face, which could only mean Patch was an analogue. Still, Patch seemed far more advanced than any other analogue she’d encountered. At that moment, she wished Patch had a face she could punch—if only to imagine punching it. With no punchable faces at her disposal, Plaiyda simply said, “Just take it out of my pay; it’s less than a minute of work. I’m going to chat with my client now.”

Patch interrupted, “Actually, we have a… feathered friend here who could use a gentle hand.”

Plaiyda rolled her eyes. She hated being the Flightie Ambassador. “Fine, what room are they in?”

Patch replied matter-of-factly, “She’s waiting for you in your cubicle.”