Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 5

Eric sat alone in his office, mentally replaying the therapy session that just ended. The occurrence was profound to say the least, something he didn't expect, not with a machine. In truth, he didn't know who derived more value from the meeting, him or Arvin. He also recalled his failure to accomplish much therapy, or at least therapy in the manner expected.

Eric never employed an accepted treatment modality, and the traditional practitioners–who would scrutinize his efforts–would view this with disdain.

To appease the hardliners, his clinical notes needed information they would approve of, such as Vale family descriptions. True, that meant padding his writeup with doctored information, but he wasn't averse to questionable activity for a worthy cause. Now he just needed some dirt on the Vales, which shouldn't be difficult to obtain since he knew where to look.

On the drive him home, Eric brought up his auto's holographic interface, then unclipped the bluish semi-transparent window and moved it over.

In the screen, he navigated to UCLA's medical database, where he hoped to acquire information on the Vales. His chances were favorable, since algorithms–which now carried out most medical assessments–churned masses of data. And with Eric a health care provider, he had access.

He logged in, entered what little he knew of the Vales, and seconds later, it returned a match. He smiled. These days, everyone exited online.

Eric stroked his chin while looking over the three Vale folders. Why did the Vale name still sound so familiar? Unable to figure this out, he cast confusion aside and opened the first folder.

First on the list was Selma Vale, the mother of two children, Chad and Amy. Selma's wealthy parents, who were both deceased, made fortunes in tech investments, and with this money, they sent her to fancy private schools and universities. She graduated with a masters in liberal arts, but didn't put it to use, preferring to have two children. She then spent the next three decades socializing with the wealthy elite, her current favorite activity.

"Obviously, Arvin didn't derive his worldly outlook from her."

He opened Chad's folder.

Just shy of thirty, Chad likewise spent his formative years in highbrow learning institutions. And though his grades weren't stellar, he managed to enroll in a top-tier medical school. He was progressing smoothly, when halfway through his final year, the school removed him.

"Removed him?"

Eric read on, learning that Chad, along with the bottom ninety percent of students, were removed in mass when the school adjusted to emerging societal changes.

Eric smirked. Kindred spirits, it seems. He continued reading.

The removal took place two years ago, and Chad's been a homebody ever since. He now spends most hours in virtual reality, where he exhibits characteristics consistent with psychopathy.

"What the hell? Did his displacement make a monster?

Eric didn't know, because the report didn't say anything else. But he guessed that like most people Chad's age, he played highly popular war games, where players gleefully slaughtered each other. The algorithms that carried out these assessments, powerful though they were, couldn't differentiate between a gamer's online bloodthirstiness, and their in vivo behaviors.

Finally, there was Amy.

At twenty-one years, Amy hadn't enrolled in a prestigious university. She currently attended Santa Monica Community College, where she busily pursued an undergraduate degree in history. When not in school, she also spent time in digital domains, but not virtual worlds. She played War World, an ultra-immersive near-future combat simulator.