Blogbuster: A Sci-Fi Thriller

by Mars Dorian

  “Yeah, well, what can I say? The guy’s a troll. He attacked me and put up the video online. Five seconds of fame, he’ll need them, once my lawyers get to him and pull him off the limelight.”

  He waved the reporter goodbye and noticed more media wo/men to his right. Under normal circumstances, he’d do two or three meaningless chitchats, but that whole situation rubbed him the wacko way.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure to talk with all of you, but we have to stick to the schedule. I shall see you all inside for the Blogbuster presentation.”

  He saluted them. The crowd roared, reporters pleaded for more comments, but Roman said it was time to move on, so it was time to move on. Before he entered the building, he took a deep breath. Laci noticed it.

  “Are you okay? Are you still thinking about that incident?”

  Roman smiled without looking at her.

  “It’s cool, Laci, let’s go on with the show. After all, everyone’s burning for the big reveal.”

  21

  Inside the event building, backstage to be exact, Roman received the makeup treatment in fast-forward speed.

  Face, straightened.

  Suit, flattened.

  A little bit of spray here, a mint injection there, perfect. A crew of five ensured Roman looked better than ever, if that was even possible. And with the special spotlight on the stage, it would diffuse the light to smoothen the skin.

  It took a while.

  Too long, in fact that Roman marched on the spot and made the makeup crew move away. Laci approached him and adjusted the details. Her face was a glow with sparkling eyes.

  “Oh my, I think I’ve never seen you that chic.”

  “What, you’ve never seen me naked?”

  She chuckled. A bit of innuendo before the show kept the fire alive. Stax was about to snap another teasing line, when a crew member turned to him.

  “Mr. Stax, it’s time.”

  “Coming,” Roman said and locked his eyes on Laci.

  She smiled.

  “I wish you good luck, R.”

  Roman grinned.

  “Luck is for losers, Laci. I’m going to blow them away.”

  “Of course you will.”

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked away. Maneuvered his way through the stage design till he reached the spotlight where he belonged. The crowd roared when he greeted them. Flashes erupted from every corner of the hall, a thunderstorm of snaps. All eyes on Roman, the way he liked it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, what a pleasure for you to be here. I can promise you this night will be worth your time.”

  He held up his hands and embraced the applause. Waited for the onslaught of clapping to slow down, but it didn’t. Ten seconds later, even Stax had enough, so he broke up the applause with one hailing hand. The auditorium dropped to dead silence. And Stax saw that it was good.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, enough with the ego-creaming already. Let’s shoot straight for the main event, shall we?”

  He moved his right hand up, the signal for the stage crew to act. A wall-sized two hundred inch screen descended from the ceiling. Roman turned back to the audience and pointed towards the majestic screen. Smiled his toothpaste grin.

  “The Blogbuster is a social media experiment as well as an online game show. We not only want to find the best video blogger of them all, we also want to show the power of online content. And the power it has on today’s citizen.”

  Pause.

  “Now for the juice of the show. Our contestants will participate in missions that test the various must-have skills of any vlogger. Listen closely, because I’m only going to mention them once. Here they are.

  Number one — negotiation and influence. vloggers must sway both viewers and potential investors into either sharing their videos or spending money for future ones. Our first mission will determine which contestant oozes the most persuasion.”

  He shook his body.

  “See? Just thinking about that mission sends me the shivers. Let’s continue with number two. Community and fan engagement. A vlogger is nothing without his hardcore fans that subscribe to his or her channel. Viewers are the steroid fuel that make the vlogger work overtime. That’s why in mission two, we’ll test our contestant’s ability to command fan action. We’ll see how creative they can get with community engagement. Needless to say, that mission will be fan-tastic.”

  He waited for the audience reaction. A few peeps chuckled in the first rows, although forced, as far as Stax could tell. Well, not every line could set the crowd on fire.

  “And finally number three — creativity in video creation. Today, half-assed ideas and crappy cat compilation videos won’t break through the clutter. What you need is a crazy idea with an even crazier execution. So, in the final mission, we have a special task that will test our vlogger’s potential for creating viral video awesomness. Spoiler alert — it will be intense.”

  He clapped his hands.

  “Well, that is the main program, not to mention all the interviews and special secret announcements we’ll slip in-between. Can I get some applause, or can I get some applause?”

  He got an applause. But this time, he didn’t wait for it to ring out. He continued.

  “By the way — all eight vlogger stars have been informed and will arrive shortly.”

  The audience clapped and shot pictures. Roman turned around, pointed towards the two hundred inch screen. The black faded into a wide angle shot of a modern, semi-skyscraper with state-of-the-art architecture.

  “You know the concept, now it’s time to know the building. Let me introduce you the BBB — the most modern facility Stax Media can pay for, legally. The hub will act as the base during the Blogbuster show. And in case you haven’t noticed, the BBB stands for Blogbuster Building and yeah, it’s more of a facility, but come on, triple B sounds way better than ‘BBF’, don’t you think?”

  The first rows showed their agreement by clapping. The rest of audience just watched him with frowny faces.

  “The facility includes a state-of-the-art gym, premium lodging, a holoroom for group meetings, a cafeteria with food from over twenty countries and of course my office on the top floor.”

  The camera zoomed in and out of the building, showed every floor in dazzling camera angles. When it reached the top level, Roman’s office blurred out.

  “Oopsie,” Stax said and covered his mouth, “that part is private, for now.”

  Some people giggled.

  “Now the Blogbuster event will take place inside as well as outside. We’ll be filming our vloggers 24/7 during their tasks. It will be streamed live online, free to watch for everyone with Internet access. Is that swell, or is that swell?”

  He stretched his arms and smiled towards the audience. About half of the hall clapped. The other half just watched, waiting for the real big thing. Roman smiled. He was about to wow the skeptics. Soon.

  “Now Stax Media is famous for its brilliant online content and web estate. And the reason why we rock is because we push our comfort zones till it hurts us in the crotch. That’s why we’ve created something very special for the Blogbuster. Something that will transform it into an experience unlike any other.”

  The audience hushed in unison. This was the big reveal everyone’s been waiting for. Roman waited till every voice in the hall quieted down and moved in slowmo. He shoved his hand into his pocket and took out a snowball-shaped device.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I want you to introduce the latest innovation from Stax Media. The video orb, or Vorb, as we call it.”

  The crowd cheered and ooohed. One third couldn’t react at all as their eyes focused on that ball-shaped device in Stax’ hand.

  “The Vorb is an all-purpose mobile computer that can record everything in its surrounding with pixel-perfect quality.”

  He thrust the orb into the spotlight, the shine reflecting on its glossy surface. The front row of people scowled. Someone shouted, “That’s your innovation
? Shiny tennis balls that people have to carry around?”

  Roman sighed.

  “No one said anything about carrying.”

  He lowered his right arm, motioned to the air for the Vorb to retreat back into his pockets, but the Vorb hovered in midair, as if invisible ropes were holding it.

  The audience gasped.

  Roman beamed brighter than the spotlight that was sizzling his skin.

  “Ever heard of ‘Three-dimensional Mid-Air Acoustic Manipulation’? No? Well, you’re seeing it right now, lads and gents. The video orbs levitate by localized ultrasonic standing waves, which are generated by ultrasonic phased arrays. And if you are not strong in the science department, let me put it in plain English. Our babies fly because of sound waves that levitate them — ‘nuff said.”

  He wrapped a stylish bracelet around his wrist and activated it with the wave of his hand. The floating Vorb beeped and circled around Roman Stax like a fairy spraying her magic dust.

  “With this common eScroll, you’re linked to your Vorb and can control it via our exclusive app.”

  He wiped across his eScroll and made the Vorb fly around the stage. It hovered over the heads of the audience. Someone even tried to jump up and catch it. The Vorb evaded each of them with precision-like moves. Even the guy that grabbed air and landed two seats in front of him. He met the ground, face first.

  Roman grinned from the stage.

  “Oopsie, don’t do that. Our babies come with geo motion censors that prevent them from crashing into things. Works pretty well as you can see.”

  Laughter trickled through the audience.

  “But for real. You can close your mouths now, ladies and gentlemen. It gets even better.”

  Roman clapped his hands, the Vorb’s live recording showed up on the wallscreen behind him.

  But instead of just displaying a high resolution video, it presented the audience and Roman’s stage at the same time.

  “Remember cameras that you had to point and shoot? Well, that stone age technology is over. The Vorb records everything within a 360° angle. Which means it records everything in its surroundings.”

  Now the audience turned from polite clapping to a thunderstorm of applause. Even the critical folks down front couldn’t suppress their enthusiasm. They didn’t expect this, not even from him. And yet, he did it again. Smashed the worries, Stax style.

  “Whether the Blogbuster action will take place in the subway or the highest of skyscrapers, the Vorb will reach every space and record every detail.”

  He grinned.

  “Say hello to the future of multimedia content sharing.”

  Standing ovations. The first row shot up, then the second, and the third, till everyone jolted up from their seats and drowned the hall in an ocean of thunderous applause. Snapshots flashed across, snap, snap, snap, a thousand pictures of Roman Stax. Three keywords trended that night.

  Stax, Blogbuster and the Vorb.

  That’s what winning looked like.

  But not for everyone.

  22

  Bam marched outside, hit the rain-drenched puddles with extra gusto and watched snippets of the Blogbuster preshow through shop window wallscreens. In-between the news-reporting mania, his ‘Bam crashes into the Stax limo’ video became viral. Breaking news. He smiled. Here’s your uber-passionate vlogger commitment, Roman. Suck it up, and enjoy.

  He hoped that douche of a Stax would watch the video.

  Some schadenfreude for Bam.

  He abandoned the shop window and sprinted down the sidewalk. Rain transformed into drizzle, splashed against his face. The chill in the air increased. It was way too cold for late summer. Bam pulled his jacket tighter and dreamed of a hot chili with lemon extract. Daydreaming was the least he could do to reward his bold move today. He increased his walking speed, heard a beep beep sound breaking through the rainy noises. Bam struggled to ignore the incoming call, but when he saw the caller’s ID, he froze on the spot.

  Roman Stax.

  Bam’s eyes blew up, he pulled the display up close to make sure he hadn’t misread the name. He hadn’t. No other Roman Stax existed in town, which was the best for everyone.

  What now, Bam?

  Egopride told him to ignore the call, but curiosity enticed him to answer. As a self-employed vlogger, he learned to lust for curiosity. So he answered the call, closed his eyes and listened to Stax.

  “Bam, Bam, Bam.”

  Pause.

  “Bam, Bam, Baa-aaam. You gotta work on your etiquette, man. Crashing into a twelve million credit limo because you got rejected, it’s just not cool. Not cool at all.”

  “What do you want?” Bam said.

  “I thought I give you a minute or two of my precious time to clear things out. Believe it or not, that crash did make me think.”

  “You mean the video that’s spreading like a virus and attracts lots of bad press for you?

  “Yeah, that too. You see, when I rejected your application, it was nothing personal, just view counts. My show is about creating the most influential vlogger, so I have to be numbers-driven when I select the participants. And with only eight vloggers in the show, I have to make sure each one is a perfect fit with global mass appeal.”

  Bam snorted.

  “What’s up with the speech, Stax, or do you call me because you love to hear yourself talk?”

  Roman chuckled on the other line.

  “Bam, my man, you’re so full of it, you need a family-sized chest to contain all your angercrap.”

  Pause.

  “But you know what? Being audacious and ‘in your face’ reminds me of a special someone. Someone who broke all the rules and paved his own path to glory.”

  “Your best friend?”

  “Myself, Bam. And although I did have a better sense of styling and etiquette when I was your age, I can relate to your anger. You got pissed off and used a smudge of creativity to stick it back to me — bravo.”

  Bam kept silent. Roman continued.

  “You know, the world is filled with sheeple. People that are content with bowing even if it breaks their backs. Science says ninety-three percent of humanity consists of followers, although judging from personal experience, that number’s closer to ninety-nine percent. We don’t need more sheeple, Bam, we need individuals who stand up for their beliefs, no matter how pathetic they seem.”

  Pause.

  “The world needs you, Bam. And more importantly, Blogbuster needs you. That’s why I made an exception concerning the entry requirements.”

  Silence in-between the sentences.

  “What do you mean?” Bam said.

  “It means I allow you to participate in the Blogbuster. I just fired a contestant because of you. Free spot, baby.”

  Bam swallowed, did he hear right? Did the Blogbuster CEO just personally invite him back to the show?

  “You can breathe now,” Roman said, “not only do I invite you back, I’m also dropping charges. Your bump into my limo would cost you at least four to eight hundred grand, but I’ll look over it and let you go. Is that epic, or is that epic?”

  Bam remained calm. The rainfall increased, battering down on his head, but he didn’t care anymore. He was frozen in the moment.

  Was this call for real? Or was Stax still playing games?

  “Your silence tells me assume you’re pondering my option. Kudos to you, you’re not as dumb as I thought you were. So, what do you say, Bam? Stay out and get sued big time, or enter the Blogbuster, face freedom and a chance to win a prestigious million credit position?”

  Bam sighed. Although he didn’t want to buy into Stax’ little scheme, he knew he was on the losing side. Besides, he really needed the money. The nasty nanomed bill still lurked in the hinterland of his mind.

  “I accept.”

  “The smartest choice you’ve made your entire life. But remember, you’re the contestant with the least popularity. Your view count is below our ‘worst’ participating vlogger, so you have to hus
tle your face off if you want to compete with your rivals. You have to give it your all.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Once I’m on fire, not even drones put me out.”

  Roman chuckled.

  “That’s the spirit. Check your inbox, I’ll send you the confirmation details. I see you at the show.”

  Stax finished the call.

  Bam took a deep breath, gazed at the sky. Nothing but grey and chilling rain, except in his mind, it was all glory and sunshine.

  Bam was back in the game.

  23

  Back in the neo-hipster district, everyone was at home — especially the wannabe artists/content writers/self-proclaimed visionaries and geeky, fruit juice drinking tweens who used either sexy selfies or Anime characters for their online avatars. They all worked for some eScroll social mega media startup while reading unhealthy amounts of lighthearted science-fiction-fantasy ebooks and Manga. Even Violet, although she did not fit into that category.

  Her category looked more like :

  Work/work harder/work the hardest/become the tech-fashion queen of tomorrow. Well, maybe not tomorrow, because that marked the beginning of the Blogbuster show.

  That’s why Violet shot around her studio, a tiny fairy on boost. She dashed from room to room, littering the floor with half of her clothes and equipment. X leaned against the wall trying to not get run over by Violet’s blitzkrieg packing.

  “I think you should slow down, you have time till tomorrow.”

  “Now I don’t,” she said, “I have to get up at seven in the morning.”

  Which was one reason why she stopped working for the man. Violet in the morning was as useful as bringing poetry to a knife fight. Her creative engine worked best when she woke up at noon, but for the Blogbuster, and the one million credit-worth content position, she was willing to make compromises.

  She packed her ergonomic rucksack. Aimed for a good mix of comfortable, attractive, semi-armor and DIY wear with replaceable parts. She needed to be ready for any temperature, any situation, while looking damn good for the cameras. Style and substance over everything. In the middle of the packing spree, she asked herself aloud.