To Kill Gods or Die Trying

Alo Edorolo

I press my wrist to the security scanner for it to read my work ID implant. My first corporate job. I remember being 16 and working fast food with a four-figure salary. Now that salary is six.

I walk through the molecular force filter—an invisible beam taking the place of a door, letting moving objects through—except I don't pass through. All my stuff, including myself, sprawls all over the ground from impact.

"Whoa, need a hand?" asks a voice from behind. "Please," I groan on the floor.

The hipster-dressed dude helps me put my stuff back in my box, then turns to the security scanner.

"I'm gonna assume it's a calibration malfunction," he says pressing his own wrist on the scanner.

I chuckle. "I'm Ben Even. Thanks for the help."

"Alo Edorolo; passing through life doing good deeds," he replies holding my hand so we can both pass through the door.

"Hey, if you want one more, would you mind showing me where to find the RealVision room?" I ask.

"Oh snap! Are you part of it too? The RealVision invitational?" he asks surprised.

"Oh dude, hell yeah!" I cheer. We bump fists. "It's been, like what?

A month since release?" I ask.

"Yeah, yeah, almost a month," he replies.

"I got an invitation from RealVision, and GameStream just transferred me into that department. Just a fresh college grad," I explain. "Oh yeah! You're that Ben Even, from MIT's varsity team. Not surprised you got invited," Alo says. "I've been here for two years, and I guess for my quote likability unquote, I was invited. So were a few other people in the company, but they're all shady as hell. Stick with me and you'll be fine."

This company is pretty crazy. Just like actors in movies, we are streamers who play video games for people live. It's a service-based job to provide entertainment for the fan bases we build. I already have an unofficial fan base from my years as a college varsity gamer.

GameStream is a website where anyone can livestream, but employees are paid; looking at a starting wage of $50 an hour with health, dental, insurance, and all those side-goodies. Money from advertisements that viewers watch goes to the company. We get timed 20-minute breaks where ads—and really good ads that are hilarious, interesting, and entertaining play for the countdown.

Subscribers pay a fee and have full VIP access to a streamer's broadcasts. The money goes to the company, but we get to keep donations as it means that our subs are engaged and we're doing a good job at keeping the company up. Subscribers get free merchandise, exclusive access to sub-only co-op gameplay servers with their streamers. Non-subscribers are more likely to subscribe in temptation to these perks.

What I like about the company is the flexibility of the hours. The 500 employees who work here—500 exact as they hire 25 at a time every six months and they all work a 10-year contract—comprised of well-known streamers on other websites or on GameStream itself, pro-league gamers, and varsity college gamers—have the option between a morning shift (5am-1pm), afternoon shift (1pm-9pm), and a night shift (9pm-5am). I chose the night shift, typically for bachelors/ bachelorettes and night owls, but most of the 10 people invited by RealVision to test the hardware have chosen the night shift because somehow when you're playing it, you're in deep REM sleep, so you'll feel refreshed when you come out morning-time.

Another thing I like about the company is the setup. If I was arranged a computer-streaming contract, I'd be set up in my own custom cubicle, with the highest end PC, and a practically amusement park break room, and a kitchen with cooks, and snacks, and desserts, and a monthly budget to buy games, DLC, and expansions, and whatever I need for gaming, and I think that's equally as cool as getting selected to play the RealVision I, except I get a VR pod, so it's even more badass.

"Any wife, kids?" Alo asks. "This is a pretty affluent job for a single man."

I scoff. "Those are some pretty hefty commitments." Alo laughs heartily. "I got a girlfriend in Idaho. We visit each other about once a month, two if we're lucky. Marriage wouldn't be too bad. I definitely don't know about kids, though," I chuckle.

Alo scoffs. "I remember when I got married in high school," he admits.

"Damn! High school?" I ask shocked.

"Love makes you do crazy things," he sighs showing off his wedding ring with a grin. "Anyways, we're here."

The elevator doors part and I follow Alo through the halls. We end up at the MFF of a room, which we enter with Alo's ID. 10 RealVision I pods are structured side-by-side.

"Delaine and Iniko like to lone wolf it for their viewers, June and Farid are very exclusive, so consequently I've been streaming alone, but..." Alo suggests.

"Yeah dude, I'm down. Someone's gonna have to show me the ropes of the game," I reply.

"Cool," Alo replies pleased. He shows me how to set up my stream, and it is flooded immediately by friends and fans I notified on my social media page. 10,000 people are in the chat room by the end of the five minutes I took to call Rachel and Essej.

Alo and I lie in our pods. "I'll see you on the other side," he says. I grin, nod, then push the red button.