Blogbuster: A Sci-Fi Thriller

by Mars Dorian

  Bam frowned, like, what the hell, but then the freckleface grinned and pointed towards the food showcase, where the cook boys smiled back at her, shaking their hands up and down.

  “Mmm, a coconut isn’t the only thing that comes with cream,” Elli said.

  Bam swallowed, almost choked on his next sip. No need to be a rocket scientist to make the connection between cook boys/creamy/hand shaking motion/coconut soup.

  Did they…

  “They did,” Elli Mental said and moved away, this time for good.

  Bam spat out the soup. White, creamy drops splashed on the table. He put his finger into his throat and followed up with more colorful chunks and cream.

  In the far distance, he saw Elli cracking up.

  In the final mission, she’d pay for this.

  For sure.

  112

  Ranch, outside of Central.

  Fourteen hours. That’s how long she slept, and boy, did she feel guilty about it. She, Violet Gear, who hustled her face off in the past five years, eight days a week, even though a week only came with seven. She, who built a respectable one-woman fashion brand with the help of the web.

  Click by click.

  Fan by fan.

  Techwear by techwear.

  Violet Gear, now slacking off. And enjoying every minute of it.

  Call it cathartic.

  Call it Violet’s personal renaissance.

  Call it Sleepy Self-Reflection In A Friend’s Place Under A Comfy Sheet.

  Because there was only so much stress her body could take before it broke down. And she was happy she could break down at her vlogger friend’s place, lulled in comfort and people who cared about her. And no freak in the area that was going to laser-cut her door, seeking revenge because he turned out to be a twisted something with no respect for privacy. Or human life.

  No respect.

  Sleep.

  The bed, her best material friend.

  Sleep deep.

  At some point, the brain was too tired to worry about anything. The night felt cool, and the bed sheet lay like soothing fur on her skin. It reminded her of the early days. Back when she was a child, and her parents were still around. Spoiling their only offspring with good night stories and hot marshmallow’d cocoa. Those were the days.

  Sleep deep and weep.

  Violet dreamed of her label’s future.

  She dreamed of creating a nanofiber-enhanced fashion line that was charged by body energy, analyzed vital functions and churned out data that helped people thrive and survive.

  One day, it would happen.

  One day, she’d make it happen.

  But this day, she was taking it slow. Taking it cozy.

  Once in a while, she got up, took a glass of water from the kitchen and headed for the toilet. She was half-awake, didn’t pay attention to her surroundings. Only heard a few sounds — like Trigger and his friend fumbling with the equipment, doing some planning on the conference table. Some other people joined them. Voices faded in and faded back out. Whenever they saw her, they smile and gave a salute.

  And she nodded and headed back to bed. Went zzzz for more hours.

  Darkness prevailed.

  Silence prevailed.

  For a while.

  113

  The next day, she woke up in the morning for once. The sun sent some rays through her room. Fine, because it was time to ditch the vampire mode and switch back to Daylight Savings Time. Violet found her way into the shower, water-minted her body and returned to the living room. Called for Trigger and Nick, but her words echoed into the spacious rooms of the ranch to no response.

  She was alone.

  Which meant, curiosity thrilled the cat.

  Now with a clear and refreshed brain, Violet saw the interior in a new light. Weapon chests, closed steel-plated closets and military grade equipment wherever she looked. Wow. A private armory with enough fire power to blow a city district back to its dark ages.

  Violet tiptoed towards a weapon chest. It was closed with a lock she’d never seen before. Maybe fingerprint access, or some other kind of scanner. Weird. She turned around and heard a mechanical fizzz sound. First she thought it was an oven, microwave or some other kitchen device. But when she moved closer to the sound source, she realized it was a working 3D printer.

  Fzzz, humz, fzzz.

  She touched the display and made a menu pop up. A 3D presentation of some gun-shaped device appeared, including a countdown timer. The title said ‘Stunner’. Below was the image with a notion.

  “Stunner body, estimated printing time two hours and forty-five minutes.”

  Violet gulped.

  She approached the conference table. Pushed away a lot of equipment and found detailed maps of a building’s interior design. It looked technical, but one map stood out. The way the rooms were shaped, the cafeteria, the entrance hall, yes, she’d seen it before. She’d even been in it. The blueprint depicted the Blogbuster Building.

  “Looking for something?”

  Violet shivered. Moved around, saw Trigger and Nick staring at her with blank expressions.

  Trapped in the moment.

  What now?

  114

  “You may want to sit down,” Trigger said.

  Voice as calm as ever, but this time, with all the military material around, it added a flavor of tension to the air. Just enough to keep Violet on the edge.

  “Sure,” she said.

  So she sat down and listened.

  Trigger and Nick followed up.

  “You may be freaked out by all the weapons around you.”

  “Just a little.”

  “We have to talk about the Blogbuster,” Trigger said.

  “Again?” Violet said.

  “You want to hear this one, because it explains everything.”

  So she nodded.

  Trigger squinted his eyes, prepared his voice.

  “Do you really think the Blogbuster is about selecting the Head of Online Content for Roman Stax?”

  Violet shrugged.

  “Frankly, I don’t know anymore.”

  “Didn’t you find the whole focus on the Vorb suspicious? A new technology that comes out of nowhere. A device that records everything in a 360° radius and gets ‘promoted’ by video bloggers who happen to attract vast fan communities with a penchant for electronics and anything video-related?”

  Violet nodded.

  “Of course. I think the entire show is a big advertisement to sell Vorbs.

  We vloggers are just the sales puppets.”

  Trigger leaned back, smiled.

  “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”

  He took out a piece of paper and jotted something down.

  “You see, in the beginning, we thought the same. Just a corporation hyping their product under the disguise of an online entertainment show. But then me and Nick did some math, and the numbers didn’t add up. At all.”

  Violet raised her eyebrows.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We took one Vorb apart. Nick analyzed the parts. Sent it to some tech friends of ours. They said it was high grade material, state-of-the-art. Worth around two thousand credits a piece. But since Stax is selling it a quarter of that price, he makes a huge loss on every unit sold. Which seems like the worst business decision ever.”

  He paused.

  “Unless he’s not interested in making a profit after all.”

  “What are you implying?” Violet said.

  Trigger exchanged glances with Nick.

  “It’s not about selling the Vorbs, it’s about distributing them. The people behind it are not interested in profits, they just want everyone to have a Vorb.”

  “Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Violet squinted. Trigger raised his right hand.

  “What does a Vorb do?”

  “It annoys the ballooney out of me.”

  He chuckled.

  “Well, besides that.”r />
  “It records everything you do.”

  He nodded.

  “You and everything around around yourself in a 360 degree radius. Imagine walking down the street with a Vorb flying over your head. It will record you and everyone on the street. Imagine taking the device to a meet-up. Imagine taking it inside your house. Everything will be filmed and stored. Forever.”

  He paused.

  “Now imagine someone with unrestricted to all of these recordings. It’s—“

  Violet swallowed.

  “Surveillance.”

  “Mass surveillance.”

  Trigger bent over the conference table and intertwined his fingers.

  “Now tell me, which entity is interested in surveilling every citizen.”

  “The government,” Violet said.

  Trigger nodded like a teacher who got all the right answers from his straight-A student.

  “I know it sounds ridiculous, but based on the data we acquired, we believe that Roman Stax is secretly working with the government to distribute the Vorbs as a self-surveillance device.”

  He took a sip from his water.

  “And although I hate to admit it, they have done a brilliant job. You see, cameras on every street freak people out. Makes them feel like they’re part of a police state. It may work temporary, but in the long term, that pressure will encourage civil unrest and cause anti-government measures. It’s bad for the party in power. But what if you create a recording device that people love to use? You’d have citizens that surveil themselves and even pay money for it. The government just has to collect the data and evaluate it.”

  Violet closed her eyes.

  “It does make sense on a strange level, but do you think the government would go that far? It’s a bit of a stretch.”

  “Is it? Because they have never spied on us before?”

  Violet shifted around her chair.

  “I don’t know, it seems far-fetched. Like one of these cheapo-conspiracy theories on third rate blogs.”

  Trigger closed his eyes.

  “We work with an insider who’s close to Stax. That person feeds us with a constant stream of behind-the-scenes infos. Apparently, Stax is doing the surveillance deal in exchange for government protection.”

  “Government protection?” Violet said.

  Nick chimed in for a change.

  “In simple terms, Stax wants the government to create media laws that favor him and cut down on his competition. Such as restricting content creation made by independent individuals.”

  Trigger took the lead again.

  “Individual content creators such as vloggers.”

  They both flashed out a faint smile.

  “Ironic, isn’t it? The Blogbuster, which seems to be all about selecting the greatest vlogger, is actually leading to their demise.”

  Violet delayed her answer. Too many questions popped up in her head.

  “Even if that was all true, what are you going to do about it?”

  For the first time since this conversation, a smile shone on Trigger’s face.

  “Now comes your part.”

  115

  “Before the final mission begins, we’re going to hijack the BBB. We’ll create a diversion, gain access to the building and take control of the media center. We want to shut down the Vorbs while the show is still on. We must expose Stax’ scheme while the world’s still watching...”

  “That’s where you come in, Violet,” Nick said, “you can help us with the distraction. We already have one person in place, but it’s better to have multiple options open. There’s no room for failure.”

  Violet stopped her passive listening-only mode.

  “Hold on, is this the reason why you let me sleep in your house? So I could become part of your plan?”

  Trigger shrugged and relaxed his deep, soothing voice.

  “Violet, do you realize how important this situation is? We’re talking about our freedom here.”

  She craned her neck and paid attention to the mountains of technological tools and firearms inside the living room.

  “All this equipment you have, where did you get the money for it? I know your videos go viral, but they surely can’t fund a private armory.”

  “We work for an organization that is concerned about every citizen’s freedom. That’s all you need to know for now.”

  Au contraire, Violet wanted to know so much more. But with Trigger’s pressing voice, she knew he was done spilling secrets. So she said,

  “This is a lot of stuff to ponder. I need time to think about it.”

  Trigger leaned back into his chair.

  “Don’t think about it too long, we have less than twenty-one hours till show begin.”

  “Got it.”

  She moved back into her guest room as she felt the boys’ piercing stares behind her back.

  Now what?

  116

  Violet was back in bed. Her eScroll, which she wrapped around her right wrist, beeped. Caller ID : Roman Stax.

  Talking about ludicrous timing.

  She crawled under the bed and went whisper-audiomode only.

  “Mr. Stax.”

  “Violet, what a pleasure to hear your voice. Are you alright?”

  “I’m getting there, slowly but surely.”

  “Fantastic. Can I expect you to see on the final mission tomorrow?”

  She sighed. He noticed the shiver in her voice.

  “I know the fan attack scared you, but do not worry, the police captured the freak. Plus, we revved up security at our show. You have nothing to fear, except breach of contract should you choose not to attend, heh.”

  Stax cracked up, Violet couldn’t tell if he was faking it or not. It was hard to gauge the real Stax. Everything about him seemed staged. A big boy play.

  “One last mission Violet, and you don’t even have to win it. Just participate.”

  Violet swallowed.

  Five hundred thousand credits and she was a free vlogger again.

  No more Blogbuster, no more debt, just Violet, and her techwear label destiny.

  It seemed within reach.

  So. Damn. Close.

  “I’m coming.”

  Roman Stax’ voice giggled over the connection.

  “I knew I could count on you. We already have your commercials lined up. We’ll post them during the mission interval. I bet your rival vloggers won’t be too happy to see you, but hey, tough luck. Hardcore competition attracts more views.”

  And helps you distribute more Vorbs, Violet thought. But that wasn’t her problem, she needed to survive. Get out of the red and back into the black again. But did she want to survive under these terms, after everything Trigger just told her? Did she want to go back to become the pawn in Stax’ conspiracy? Was it even real?

  Too much confusion.

  “Are you okay?” Stax said.

  He must have noticed the long pause.

  “Mr. Stax…”

  And snap.

  The connection cut off.

  The door opened up.

  Trigger and Nick marched in.

  Grim faces included.

  Merde.

  117

  She could say, hey, it’s not what it looks like.

  But that would be a tired trope that only worked in second-rate, stereotype stories.

  Not in reality.

  So she said,

  “What now?”

  Because, cut-straight-to-the-core.

  Trigger’s face looked so tired.

  “I’m disappointed, Violet. I just entrusted you with the secrets, and now you’re calling the root of evil himself. I thought we vloggers were on the same team.”

  Violet’s first instinct was to find out how the heck he knew whom she called. After all, she whispered during the conversation. Under the bed. With a sheet over her head.

  But then again, this ranch was a battlestation. Probably bugged from carpet to ceiling, especially the guest room.

 
; “Did you spy on me?”

  “A security measure,” Trigger said.

  “Whatever happened to the freedom of a citizen?”

  “This one is different.”

  “Is it?”

  She stood up in a slow manner. Walked towards the two.

  “You just gave me this liberty speech and complained about how the government was spying on us, and now you’re here, doing the same thing. Hypocrisy, anyone?”

  “Shut up,” Nick said.

  “Violet, this is our house. We can do whatever we want in here. What Stax is doing breaks every constitutional right.”

  Violet nodded. Not because she agreed, but because she didn’t want to raise the tension which was already tasting butter thick.

  “What now? Are we going to stand here forever and talk politics?”

  “No,” Trigger said.

  Awkward silence.

  “It’s unfortunate you plan to return to the Blogbuster. I’m afraid we can’t—“

  “Maybe we can come to an agreement,” Violet said.

  And then she ran.

  118

  Ran away from the two, across the living room. Leaped over the equipment like a jump ’n’ run character. She aimed for the door, but surprise surprise, it was locked.

  Merde.

  Meanwhile, Trigger and Nick moved around in slowmo.

  “Don’t be foolish, Violet. Let’s talk this over.”

  Yeah, right.

  Because a Stunner hidden behind his back called for a conversation. Violet glanced around, looked for something that she could use as a self-defense tool.

  Deja view.

  No wire stripper around, but many futuristic-looking guns. She picked up a black rifle with modern curves. Trigger shot the Stunner, she felt the beam burst streaking her hair-ends. Close. She aimed the strange rifle at the boys.

  “Don’t move or I’m going to blow you back into the hell of hypocrisy.”

  “You don’t even know how to use the rifle,” Trigger said.

  “Well, I know I’m pointing it at the right direction. And I know where the trigger is.”

  The human Trigger didn’t look impressed. He just stood there with his Stunner, as if he was going to a chicken hunt while preparing the grill.

  Violet aimed the rifle towards the boys, but not at them. Better to start with a warning shot first, just to show them she was serious. She pulled the trigger, saw a red display blinking in rapid succession.