I was in the middle of a Three Boulder maneuver, when the incoming call icon flashed on my Total Immersion display. I glanced at the icon, causing the details of the caller to appear. Work was calling. More precisely, my direct supervisor. This was merely a title rather than any real authority and I had no intention of pausing the game. This was exactly why I set my status to ‘Unavailable’ before starting to play Volcanic Rumble. Another glance at the flashing icon and the call was directed to the Interactive Automated Persona Emulator. Usually, nobody leaves a message on the IAPE. Everyone just hates talking to a piece of software which has the sole purpose of getting rid of you in the most polite manner possible. Not this time though. Another icon flashed for a brief moment indicating that a new message had been received. Worse than that, the message icon was blinking in a pattern indicating that this message had been designated ‘Urgent’. I don’t think I had ever received one of those until that day. For a brief second, a frightening thought crossed my mind but was immediately dismissed. It would take more than a seemingly ominous message from work to make me stop playing Volcanic Rumble, which was of course, the best and by far the most popular immersion game on my planet.

Volcanic Rumble, or as it is more commonly called, ‘VoR’, is a game of strategy. Two teams, each consisting of 5 players, battle on a square map divided in the middle by the score line. On two of the map’s opposite corners are volcanoes spewing out boulders at regular intervals. Each team’s objective is to drive the boulders being spewed out of the volcano on their side of the map across the score line, into the opposing team’s side of the map. This constitutes a goal and is worth 1 point. Each player can choose his character from a hero pool of over 200 different heroes, where each hero posses a unique skill and ability set which improve during the game. If you are familiar with MOBA then the principals are the same. There is no direct fighting between the heroes (or anything else) since this kind of behavior is truly out of character for my race. Each team’s heroes remain on their side of the map and manipulate the boulder flow (which is governed by gravity and map topography, as the volcanoes are the highest points on the map while the score line is the lowest). The many possible combinations of heroes on each team is what makes the game so strategic. Some heroes are adept at making boulder traps (for example, accumulating and later simultaneously releasing a large number of boulders). Others can effect vegetation and thus manipulate the boulder flow. Some are good for defending against the other team’s boulders while others specialize in intelligence gathering (since most of the opposing team’s map is hidden). You can deflect the other team’s boulders by using topography obstacles, some of your skills or just by sacrificing one of your heroes (who will then need to wait outside the field until he can re-spawn). This is a rather simplistic description of the game, as it is hard to truly understand it without actually experiencing it. But hopefully, I have succeeded in giving you a general understanding of it and it’s addictive nature.

A few moments later (sense of time can be very fluid while playing VoR) the incoming call icon flashed again. If this was my supervisor again it would be extremely inappropriate on his part. Because there are almost never any technology failings and any message is sure to be received, calling someone repeatedly is considered to be harassment. A quick glance at the flashing icon and I’m petrified. It is my parent (we have only a single parent). Fear completely grips me now and I’m neither playing nor answering the call. Another message designated as ‘Urgent’ is waiting for me. A few seconds later and the comm is exploding with voices. Again, because a technological failure is highly unlikely, my VoR teammates are genuinely concerned for my well being since I’ve been idle for the past minute or so. I mumble something, mentioning an emergency, and abandon the game. My team just suffered a technical loss and my teammates are probably angry. I know my actions registered with them as incredibly disrespectful.

My parent and I are not very close, to say the least. He is a truly brilliant xeno-researcher and holds a position on the galaxy’s council of science and research (COSAR). He is only the third from my race to ever receive such an honor (and of the three, the only one currently alive) and he is quite famous on my planet. I’m a xeno-researcher like him, minus the brilliant part. I followed my parent’s footsteps mainly because it was convenient. Everybody knew who my parent was and I never had any intention of not playing that card. No one expected me to be as brilliant as him so I turned under achievement into an art form. School was a breeze. All my professors were extremely forgiving of my lack of ambition. An invitation to one of COSAR’s conventions was really what they were after and my parent was their only chance to ever get one. Though not a single one of them ever got invited, and not for the lack of trying. This arrangement has worked great for me, up until today.

I work for COSAR. This is a temporary position unlike my parent’s tenure for life seat of honor at the council. Most positions are temporary. There is simply not enough work for everyone. Software and hardware have replaced the majority of the workforce centuries ego. So you only get a job for a few years and that sums up your career. Surprisingly, this fact usually serves as motivation to take advantage of the opportunity and try to actually achieve something. Not yours truly. When my parent approached me with the option of “serving my time” with the council I immediately accepted. What drew me was not the prestige, or the extra credits you get (working for an “extra terrestrial” organization entitles extra credits and some other perks as well in order to encourage interstellar commerce and relations). No, none of that. I wanted the position because its lacking of actual work, and more importantly, supervision. I have been holding this position for a few years now, never suspecting that this should happen. The odds against it were astronomical and the last time something like this is known to have happened was thousands of years ago. Lucky me.

COSAR, in their infinite wisdom, have left out some probes while mapping our galaxy. These probes, which are basically fist sized satellites, were left to orbit planets considered to have a potential for technological life. One of these probes has just signaled back using its quantum transponder. Now someone will have to travel unimaginable distances to actually study the unsuspecting natives. Needless to say that this cruel punishment is considered to be an extreme honor. For starters, your name is “carved” into the history of COSAR as the planet’s researcher. On top of that, you receive a life tenure seat at the council, just like the position my parent currently holds. You have a job for the rest of your life, which is probably the last thing I ever wanted. And the worst part yet, you have to complete the research which can easily take triple my original time commitment to COSAR not to mention the way there and back.

This was the only reasonable explanation for the messages waiting for me. I activated the one from my parent. His voice was higher than usual (something equivalent to a human smiling), “Congratulations descendant, welcome to the council”. That’s it. He did not inquire about my well being or my reaction to the news waiting for me in message number one. Not even a goodbye. I have not heard from him in years and now I’m not going to for many more. If I was physically capable of it, I would be crying right now.

My position at COSAR until then was on the ‘Designated Xeno-Research’ team, whose sole purpose is to respond to such events. The chances that a monitored alien species would make a technological breakthrough during my watch at COSAR were statistically negligible, and so at the time, I eagerly accepted the position. This was to be my dream job. No supervision whatsoever. No real milestones or deliverables. I could choose to focus on becoming a better xeno-researcher if judgment day arrived.

I activated the message from my work supervisor. Since he is of a different species, the message i’d be hearing would be a simulated translation so I could not expect any sympathy there either. “Team activated, start procedure, good luck”. Wow, three sentences. He must have been excited. This is how my story begins. With shear panic. There is no way out of this. I cannot resign from my current position, it’s not even an option. No one is allowed to refuse to an opportunity like this. Most wish for it and dream about it if they can. I will have to follow the path set before me. Suddenly it hits me. No more Volcanic Rumble. The only thing in the galaxy that I can say I’m passionate about was just taken away from me by a species who are now considered advanced because they learned how to transmit some form of waves (radio waves in this particular case). What can I say, the galaxy can be a cruel place.