Ready Player One:Prologue, a ready player one fanfic

Ready Player One:

Prologue

A Fan-Fiction Story

by Jennie Hilts Workman

Ready Player One:Prologue is a fan-fiction produced prologue to Ernest Cline's best selling novel Ready Player One. It is meant as an homage to Mr. Cline and his incredible talent. I take no credit for anything I produce in this book, as it is all an extension of the work that Mr. Cline created. There is more to the story of Ready Player One, and it needs to be told. I have ravenously consumed every word, over and over, of the original story. I participated in the hunt for 'Ernie's Egg', and reveled in the interactive nature of the book. I mean, I sat in the DeLorean on Mr. Cline's book tour! My mind is filled with ideas about what happened next. I had to write them down. I would bet all my OASIS credits that other gunters have entertained this idea as well. Maybe even written their own fan-fiction sequels. It is to these faithful readers and true gunters I dedicate my fan-fiction book. Grammar, punctuation and contextual error are all included at no charge. I am told I am fond of commas. I tend to use them for dramatic or rhythmic pause. Because my literary talent (or lack thereof) is best described as one step above a monkey, I may actually be insulting Mr. Cline with my childish attempt. This is most certainly not my intention as he has my utmost respect and admiration. If Wil Wheaton ends up reading this, please turn on a recorder and read it aloud. Tweet a Dropbox link or something. Getting you for the RP1 audiobook was sheer genius. I didn't know I could enjoy Ready Player One any more than I already did until I heard the Audible version. All rights to the story and characters belong to Ernest Cline and his assigns. If this work only results in a couple 'attaboys' I will be amply rewarded. I just really, really, don't want to go to prison.

0040

The day after Slaughtergate, as it was being called in the media, I was inundated with emails from gunters begging for their avatars to be resurrected. After talking with Art3mis, Aech, Shoto, and Og, we all decided it was the right thing to do so I logged into the OASIS and opened my new command console. "I wish for all avatars killed in sector ten between twelve oh one am and two pm yesterday" I paused, then quickly added, "except avatars with names beginning in IOI to be resurrected". A prompt appeared asking if I would like all their items restored as well, just as it did when I resurrected Art3mis, Aech, and Shoto. I thought about it for a moment then tapped the 'Yes' icon. A progress bar appeared and after nearly ten seconds 'resurrection complete. avatars restored' appeared on my screen. Then I created a post for the OASIS newsfeed.

"Attention! All brave warriors who fought and died at Slaughtergate have been resurrected and your items restored. Your valiant service in the cause of righteousness has been rewarded. The bringers of light have once again defeated the forces of darkness. I thank each and every one of you for your loyalty to the OASIS. You will all soon receive a small token of my esteem. With my deepest gratitude and respect, Parzival" I added a footnote "*If you have already created a new avatar you may replace it with your old avatar the next time you log in."

I had the graphic design department make a shiny silver, egg-shaped medal with a copper, jade and crystal ribbon, like a military service ribbon, and send it to every avatar that had been resurrected. I had programming make it 'bind on account', '+10 armor' and tag it as 'indestructible' so it could never be lost or destroyed, even if their avatar died again. Even if another Cataclyst came along. They gave me a lot of grief over this since those attributes required hard coding into the source, but I flexed a little of that 51% stock in their face and they relented.

+10 armor is a very powerful attribute. Especially if you died and had to level a new avatar. You could easily reach level 20 with that much armor alone. It wasn't allowed to be used in Player versus Player battlegrounds or arenas, that just wouldn't be fair, but it came to be highly prized and respected. It also had an unintended side effect. Everyone with the medal was now referred to as 'Parzival's Army' in the media. After mass resurrecting millions of avatars, over half the OASIS, I was considered a God by nearly everyone, so I reluctantly accepted the moniker without making much of a fuss.

True to my word, I split the cash winnings evenly between myself, Atr3mis, Aech, and Shoto. This amounted to a little more than thirty billion dollars each. The other half of Halliday's assets were in OASIS stock. Art3mis, Aech and I approached Shoto with the idea to create a trust fund for Daito's family so they would be cared for the rest of their lives, and form a foundation in Daito's name to help find and rehabilitate the Hikikomori, the 'missing millions' in Japan who had locked themselves away from the world to hunt for Halliday's egg. The news feeds were reporting mass suicides in Japan. When my avatar appeared in place of the scoreboard, holding the egg with the word 'Winner' floating over my head, many gunters just decided they no longer had anything to live for. This phenomenon wasn't exclusively occurring in Japan either. It was happening all over the world, but mostly in Japan.

Shoto broke down in tears, dropped to his knees and covered his face with both hands, a Japanese symbol for losing face. "I am so ashamed!" he cried. "I am sorry to have doubted your honor at our first meeting. I am not worthy of your friendship" he sobbed. Atr3mis, Aech and I gathered around and stood Shoto up. "Shoto, it's OK man. You had a right to be suspicious. Heck, I was suspicious of everyone, even Parzival when Art3mis showed up on the scoreboard right after he did." Aech said shooting me a wink. I gave Aech a dirty look then turned to Shoto. "You are a man of great honor, Shoto. It was you who sacrificed your avatar's life to avenge Daito's death and buy us time to reach the gate. You gave up your chance to find the egg so his killer would not go unpunished. It was you who gave me the power to finally defeat Sorrento. You could have kept the Beta Capsule for yourself and used it against us. For all this and more, you have brought great honor to yourself, your family and your country." I said, meaning every word.

Shoto slowly brought down his hands and looked at me with gratitude, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "Shoto, I have been, and always shall be, your friend" I said putting both hands on his shoulders. "And I yours, all of you" Shoto responded as he took a step back and bowed low. "Hey!" I shouted as Aech gave me a playful slap to the back of my head as I was returning Shoto's bow. "What was that for?!" I demanded. "For using a lame ass Star Trek reference you scruffy nerfherder" Aech admonished. Everyone had a good laugh and we all sat down to work out the details of our plan to help Daito's family and start the work of the Toshiro Yoshiaki Foundation.

0041

Thanks to Halliday's clever use of his Last Will and Testament, and a gaggle of the world's best lawyers, the money awarded in the contest was tax-free because it was an inheritance. All caps had been removed on inheritance income prior to Halliday's death. Unbeknownst to anyone, Halliday had paid vast fortunes to lobbyists and corrupt politicians to ensure the cap would be removed by the time he died. This was all part of his elaborate plan to use his Will as a way to distribute his wealth. He knew it would be used to line the pockets of the corrupt if the government got hold of it. He didn't want them to see a penny. He trusted it would be better used by a true gamer. And he was right. We still don't know all the details, deals, and conspirators he cooked up to make it all happen, but bits and pieces were slowly starting to come to light.

I couldn't divide up my shares of the OASIS, or I would lose my majority ownership, leaving the fate of the OASIS to the number crunchers and anyone who could muster up enough proxies to out-vote me. So I formed a 'High Council' consisting of every member of 'The High Five', the nickname applied to us as a result of our position on the scoreboard during the hunt. Me, Atr3mis, Aech and Shoto. Daito, who was killed in the battle of Frobozz, both in the OASIS and IRL, was given an honorary seat at the table, which was fashioned King Arthur style, round, with no head and no sides. Everyone equal.

There were even suits of armor and torches adorning the High Council chambers. An homage to The Great and Powerful Og, who had provided us sanctuary in his castle in our time of greatest need. His life-size portrait, created in the style of 19th century painter Gustave Moreau, was hung over the fireplace. An armor clad knight stood on either side of the portrait as King's Guard. Og was regaled in full battle armor, much like King Arthur himself, looking very kingly indeed. More like Arthur as portrayed by Nigel Terry in the 1981 movie Excalibur than the Monty Python Arthur played by Graham Chapman. This resulted in much embarrassment every time Og was invited to sit with the Council, but since he was such a big fan of the genre, he didn't make too big of a fuss.

On the opposite side of the room was a life-size portrait of James Halliday, as Anorak, in his famous obsidian wizard garb, looking like the strong, healthy avatar he once was. The painting, done in the same style as the circa 1560 Vlad III Dracula portrait hanging in The Ambras Castle, Austria, was kind to Halliday's spirit, without a hint of the evil associated with Vlad the Impaler. Did you know Vlad the Impaler was the inspiration for Vigo, the evil spirit in Ghostbusters II? It was a masterpiece, and Og loved it so much he commissioned a copy for his own castle in Oregon.

The High Council chamber existed in the OASIS and soon, in my very own castle in Oregon. Art3mis and I were so enamored with the beauty of Oregon, we decided to settle there and build a home. I wanted to build a castle in the style of Doune Castle in Scotland, used for filming many of the castle scenes in Monte Python's Holy Grail. Art3mis preferred a modest 70's style house, like the one on the Brady Bunch. With so many people starving and out of work, she felt it wasn't right to live so ostentatiously. But she relented after I agreed to hire a full-time housekeeping and groundskeeper staff, giving much-needed jobs to the locals, and forget about pursuing my dream of building an interplanetary spaceship to leave earth in pursuit of inhabitable planets. Much to my disappointment, I found that most of the technology didn't actually exist anyway, outside of the OASIS, and without lightspeed, I would most likely die hundreds of years before the ship ever reached a planet capable of supporting human life. Still, I was sorry to let go of my dream.

After a few weeks getting things straightened out with the lawyers and making plans for the future, everyone thanked Og for his most generous hospitality and went on their way. There were lots of tears and lots of hugs and even Og got a little emotional. "You are all welcome here any time my friends. If you ever need anything, just call on your friend Og" he said with a sniffle. Shoto and Aech each boarded a different charter plane waiting for them on Og's airstrip. Shoto was returning to Japan to get things going with Daito's Foundation and Aech to the Columbus Airport so she could retrieve her RV. Aech was filthy rich now, but she insisted on getting it. "I still have lots of stuff in there!" she said defensively when I chided her for wanting to pick up her 'rust bucket'. "I'm planning on getting a new one, but there's no hurry. Besides, I need to scout locations for a home. What better way than an RV?" she rationalized.

Og made a gift of one his vintage Tesla Motors cars to Atr3mis and me so we could get to the land we purchased just under 100 miles from Og. Tesla was well known for their strides in electric engine technology, and the 2031 model still got over 300 miles on a single charge.

There was a small house on the property Art3mis and I could live in while our new home was being built. It was actually a very nice 70's retro style house that looked a little like the Brady Bunch house. You could easily picture Alice in the vintage kitchen, complete with orange counter tops, and avocado plastic table chairs, chastising little Bobby for tracking dirt through the house. Art3mis instantly fell in love with it and made me promise to keep it as a guest house. I planned to mow it down, and leaving it would require massively altering the building plans, but I could plainly see she adored it. It would stay.

Months went by and things settled down to a comfortable routine. Aech found a house near Orland Park in Illinois, Shoto was taken in by Daito's family and treated like a young prince, I managed construction of my castle and tended the OASIS, and Art3mis got involved in a government program to help feed the homeless and rebuild America. Every once in a while we all got together in the OASIS for some questing or a Flicksync, usually after a High Council meeting, but those times got further and further apart.

0042

"The end of Halliday's contest was both a relief and a let down for sure" I told the reporter. "I mean, I'm happy it turned out the way it did, but I miss the hunt". Art3mis, Aech and Shoto all nodded in agreement. "It's been almost a year since you found the egg. The question everyone is asking is what changes are in store for the OASIS?" asked the reporter. "The High Council has been discussing this for quite some time, with input from the OASIS User Council" Aech responded. "We think any changes need to be for the benefit of the users. To help make their lives a little better". Aech glanced at me and I gave him a nod, then he looked directly into the camera "So it is my pleasure to announce that starting tomorrow teleportation fares will be cut in half so people can explore the OASIS. I mean, it's huge man. So many people only know a tiny part of it. Let's get some exploring going on." "And if you can't afford it," I chimed in, "you will get one free round trip voucher every week. Anywhere in the OASIS".

This announcement met with massive approval as the newsfeeds went wild. Everyone was pissed off about the constantly rising teleportation costs, so this was welcome news. Cheaper teleportation costs meant more money spent on other things. That was sure to help the economy. The US economy was just taking its first baby steps to recovery since the election of President Dana Barrett. Only the second woman in history to be elected President. Her 'America Works' program was just getting started and already seeing positive results.

The recent revolutionary discoveries in solar power and energy storage were already helping to bring the nation's power grid back to capacity. Solar panel output leaped from 10,000 watts to 1 megawatt from the same size panel. Government subsidized manufacturing plants for the new solar panels employed hundreds of thousands of workers from the program. The new solar panels were being deployed as fast as production could churn them out.

Tesla found a way to integrate the new omnidirectional, hyper-reactive solar cells right into their car paint, making the whole vehicle self sufficient, running nearly unlimited miles in bright daylight, and over 500 miles in darkness. Manufacturing went through the roof, and thousands more from the program were employed.

Deteriorating, broken down sections of cities all over the country were slowly coming back to life even as reconstruction was going on. Businesses started popping up to cater to the program workers. Lunch trucks, mini-marts and then restaurants and clothing stores would pop up in every city where program workers were sent. As housing was rebuilt, the stacks were disassembled and raw materials recycled for use in reconstruction.

Residents, almost all program workers themselves, were assigned to newly built or refurbished housing units as their stacks were scheduled for recycling. Rents were controlled and remained the same or were reduced according to their contributions to the program, even though the new housing units were like palaces compared to living in the stacks. The benefits were so great, everyone wanted to participate. There was no age discrimination either. Even the elderly could contribute if they were able. Tending newly planted gardens, or as social workers to talk with people or just listen to their troubles. Everyone has a place in the program.

The program was working. Much to Art3mis's satisfaction, as she wholeheartedly backed President Barrett's program with her celebrity support, and her money. She provided oversight for many of the program's functions including payments and scheduling, to make sure fraud and corruption were kept out of it. She was a bulldog. As a result, many of the corrupt contractors and politicians privately referred to her as 'the painted whore', a derogatory reference to the port wine birthmark on her face.

I accompanied Art3mis on many of her frequent scouting trips to monitor new construction and find areas to begin new projects. Atr3mis would organize the projects and I made sure new fiber connections were laid for access to the OASIS. My ultimate goal was to get control of all feeds into and out of the OASIS. This would drastically reduce third-party access points, at least in the United States. My experience hiding from IOI stuck with me, and I vowed to never let that happen to anyone.

This did not sit well with the companies who made their living providing third party access to the OASIS at inflated rates with abusive privacy policies. Primarily IOI who owned the vast majority of telecoms providing internet access. There was a great deal of money to be made by advertising to targeted audiences. Some companies, most companies, secretly monitored their user's data streams for keywords related to their advertisers and supplied the user with ads relating to those keywords. Someone might be telling a friend about their lousy washing machine that keeps breaking down and suddenly every ad they see is for a new washing machine. Integrated Marketing Management, IMM, an IOI subsidiary, had electronic billboards and displays everywhere. If you used an identity scan to make a purchase or logged on from a mobile device on an IOI controlled WiFi connection, they had your location and suddenly every display ad and billboard in the area showed you new washing machines. All your sales receipts had a discount code for a new washing machine. It worked. It was also unscrupulous, but it made money. Lots of money and the third party access providers were not happy about being cut out of the loop. In fact, there was talk of a secret consortium, dedicated to finding a solution. Keep the money flowing by any means necessary.

0043

"Artie, are we really making a difference?" I asked. "Of course we are Wade" Art3mis answered. She took to calling me by my real name when we weren't in the OASIS. Wade Owen Watts. She liked that name. I could never get used to calling her Samantha, her real name, so I stuck with Artie. I considered it a term of endearment. She didn't mind. "It just seems like the more we do, the more we have to do" I said as we both watched the last remaining stacks at the new project site come tumbling down. "Wade, you and I, all of us are doing so much good. It's going to take awhile. Years probably, before things really start to change. But we're on the right track." she said draping my arm over her shoulders. She felt me tremble as the final crash of the last stack being demolished reverberated off the concrete structures of the I-40 overpass. "Let's just put one foot in front of the other in the meantime. OK?" she whispered into my ear and kissed it lightly. "OK" I answered softly.

As the last of the abandoned vehicles were cleared away by the bulldozer the construction foreman called out. "Mister Watts, would you care to do the honors?" Art3mis and I walked over to him and I took the shovel from his hand. I looked at Art3miss and she nodded. "You do this Wade. This is your baby." I plunged the blade deep into the earth, gave it a couple stomps then tilted it back excavating a small mound of dirt. "I hereby christen thee the Gilmore Senior Center. May it serve this community for many years to come." I said with as much pomp and circumstance as I could muster. A few passersby that paused to see what was going on applauded and a reporter took some photos, but people were still afraid in this part of town. The program was just getting started here. Things would change quickly, but today this would have to do.

Just as I was turning to walk away, I noticed something in the pile of dirt. I reached down to pick it up. A key. My key. The key to my fortress of solitude. The key that saved my life. "This one's for you Mrs. G" I whispered as I put the key in my pocket and took one last look at 700 Portland Avenue.