Blogbuster: A Sci-Fi Thriller Read online

  “To steal attention no one gets, you have to do things no one dares.”

  A famous vlogger before he died

  “Blogbuster”

  Copyright © 2014 by Mars Dorian.

  All rights reserved.

  1

  “You know what blows me away?”

  Roman Stax pranced around the stage, stretched out his arms and smiled at the crowd. Over twenty cameras captured his style : premium onyx-black suit, the tanned skin and the corporate-blue eyes that stood out from it.

  “We live in the most exciting times of our history, ladies and gentlemen. The holy web has allowed us to reach every single person on the planet. It has helped creatives, businessmen and ambitious individuals to create their own online empires.”

  He stared at the first ten rows of the audience.

  “But the freedom to reach everyone has come with a hefty price tag.”

  Stax turned his glance from left to right in a 180° swap. He wanted to capture them all.

  Wanted to compel them all.

  “What do we do in a world where everyone gets a shot and no one cares? Especially in a world with so much competition that people are overloaded with choices?”

  Pause.

  “Do I want to watch a lefty political channel, a DIY cooking show with grandmother Grave or some cats getting furry in a J-porn? Mucho choices, people, and not so mucho attention. The question is — what do you do to break through the clutter?”

  He grinned. No one in the audience replied.

  “That, my dear friends, is a question that I’m going to answer very soon. But first, let me tell you an interesting revelation.”

  He clapped his hands. Closed his eyes. Cleared his throat.

  “Back in the day, my father was conducting an official study on adolescents growing up in the Internet era. He claimed the general attention of a web kid was the same as a goldfish, about nine seconds.”

  The audience laughed. At least the front rows did.

  “Humans with the attention spans of goldfishes? That’s not even the bad news, folks. The bad news is today it’s even less than that.”

  He looked down at his gold-plated shoes. They reflected the spotlight from above. Shoeshine deluxe.

  “The average human nowadays has only one second of attention to spare.”

  He lifted his head and glanced back at the audience.

  “One second, ladies and gentlemen. One single second to hook your audience and make them eagerly anticipate the next second, and the next, and the next one after that.”

  Pause.

  “One second to be memorable online. So what would you do to stand out?”

  He walked back and forth between the stage, waiting for the audience to answer. Silence snuck in, with the only sound coming from the humming cameras that floated around him. A fizzy noise buzzing from every direction. Roman smiled. He forced the moment into an awkward pause. He knew timing was everything.

  “Well, I believe I’ve found the answer. That’s why I’ve toiled away in obscurity for the last year. The media claimed I had an emotional breakdown, or that I retreated from my work life. Nah, it couldn’t be further from the truth. I wasn’t hiding from the public and chewing crackers in the dark, ladies and gentlemen, I was working on my secret project.”

  He stood still, put his palms together. Made sure everyone glued their ears to his next sentence with crisp clarity.

  “The secret project that cost me well over fifty million credits.”

  The audience oooh’d. More people took pictures. Snap, flash, snap.

  “And today, I’m going to reveal it to all of you.”

  The audience cheered in unison, some whistled, some clapped extra fast. Cameras moved closer and zoomed into Roman Stax’ bleached biters. So close that the spotlight reflected off his teeth, making him look a sun swallower.

  “I want to present you a web event the world has never seen. A show that will not only beat every crappy online video out there, but also revolutionize the way we experience entertainment.”

  He paused yet again and allowed the audience to gasp.

  “Now, how amazing will it be you ask? Well, I want it to be so compelling, you’d want to cancel your honeymoon and forget about having sex.”

  Waves of awkward laughter spread through the audience.

  “It’s going to be so intense that doctors will abandon surgeries in the middle of the incision, even with the bloody scalpel in their hands, just to keep watching my show.”

  He smiled and embraced another wave of laughter while ignoring the ones with covered mouths and shaking heads. He may have gone too far with this one. Nah, he didn’t. Not yet.

  “Heck, even if you were suicidal, you’d postpone your impending death. Put away the blade, the pills and the rope, and tune into my channel, because what you’re going to witness beats the afterlife.”

  He stretched out his arms and raised his chin towards the ceiling. The crowd exclaimed ‘ohhh’. Then silence blanketed the auditorium. A hall filled with over a thousand people and no one said a damn thing. Roman smiled. He called it the Stax Effect. That moment when his presence silenced the crowds and sucked the air out of the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, viewers from around the globe, let me introduce you to the greatest online show event on earth.”

  Pause.

  “Let me introduce you to the Blogbuster.”

  2

  Boom. The audience jolted from their chairs, unleashed an explosion of standing ovations. The first rows created a clapping thunderstorm that traveled row after row, until the entire hall drowned in the sound ocean. In-between, the attendees shared the news on their blogs and websites. The Blogbuster hashtag spread like a digital shockwave. A never ending chain of comments and predictions ensued. Thousands of blogs and video sites picked up on it, shared it, reviewed it. The resulting traffic blew up networks and brought down the servers of major social media sites. The sharepocalypse unleashed.

  Some messages read,

  “Have you heard ? Sounds sooo exciting.”

  “Wowzee, wowa, wow. Can’t wait to see what the Blogbuster is.”

  “Big talker, let’s see what he delivers.”

  “It’s all hype, you sheeple. Don’t fall for it.”

  Roman Stax’ announcement became the number one trending message in at least ten countries. And boy, did it make the multi-millionaire smile. It took him almost two years of planning and a three hundred strong workforce to create the Blogbuster, but it was worth this very second. Because this second was the beginning of his plan, the plan to change it all. So even if a meteor was to crash earth right now, it couldn’t dethrone Roman Stax’ top ranking. Why ?

  Because a big stone crashing from space with the power of ten thousand nukes would have nothing on Roman Stax. The pretty girl with the blond hair would have agreed.

  3

  Assistant Joy handed Roman a chill bottle filled with authentic Himalayan mountain water.

  “Sir, that was an incredible speech. The way you moved, the way you smiled, it was just mesmerizing. Even though I stood next to the freezer, you made every ounce of me melt.”

  Roman beamed.

  “Not just you, Joy. Did you see the audience? They loved me. Five thousand guests and all of them were blown away. That’s quite an accomplishment, I have to admit. And they’re going to love the Blogbuster even more once I reveal the game show mechanics.”

  Joy clutched her notepad and nodded.

  “Oh, they will for sure, sir.”

  They locked eye contact, one on one. Roman smiled.

  “Let’s walk, baby, I’m done with talking.”

  He clutched her body to his and wh
isked her away from the hall area, right into the maze of backstage alleys and VIP rooms. Stax grinned at his assistant.

  “I think the world is craving something different, Joy, something more intense than farting cats and camera pranks. The world wants something deeper, an emotional ride that shakes them up like a nitro blender.”

  He flashed his trademark Stax smile. It worked.

  “And I’m the one who’s going to give it to them.”

  She nodded, wanted to say something, but Roman pressed his finger against her strawberry-painted lips.

  So, don’t speak baby, just don’t. Let me show you what matters now.

  Backstage. Roman hoped he’d ducked the crowds, but he hoped in vain. Peering down the hallway, he noticed a horde of crew members, reporters and fans blocking the narrow path up ahead. He couldn’t catch a break no matter where he went. It was tough to be Stax. Still, he was a pro, so he put on his trained smile and thrust Joy forward like a knight to his crusade. War-ready for the media onslaught. The first reporter tried to flank him.

  “Mr. Stax, that was an incredible speech, but you didn’t reveal anything about the Blogbuster. What can we expect?”

  Another reporter shoved his mic up to Stax’ nose.

  “Yes, what exactly is it? Would you like to clarify?”

  Nah, Stax didn’t. That’s why he kept his mouth shut and brushed aside all the hands pawing his onyx-black suit. Some even wanted their own personal high-five clap with the millionaire superstar, but Roman didn’t return the gesture. He hated shaking sweaty hands. Why couldn’t this nation welcome bow-only greetings like the Japanese did? All this stranger-touching, it gave him the creeps. Especially when they were butt-ugly monkeys with spines made out of slime. Thanx, but no thanx.

  “Hey everyone, I sooo appreciate your continued interest. But it’s been a long, tough day.”

  The media people sighed. Some shot more questions at his direction. Roman put up a shield made out of swagger.

  “Now if you excuse me, I need some quality time by myself.”

  He waved them away with a smile, pushed himself through the crowd and looked for his VIP suite. The media swarm nodded and left with shoulders slumped, one disappointed face at a time. But when Joy joined the leaving, Roman grabbed her arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Didn’t you just say you wanted to be alone?”

  “Joy, general instructions don’t apply to you, silly.”

  She smiled. Sometimes a wink said more than a thousand lies.

  “It’s time to enjoy ourselves.”

  Roman ushered her into his VIP suite. Clapped on the light, clap, clap, and chose the enchanted ambience mode while his smart system played some smooth Jazz in the background. He marched towards the dark wood bar and concocted two White Russians. They toasted, clinked chilled glasses and sipped the cocktails with laser-intense eye contact.

  “Thanks,” is all Joy managed to say.

  “Let’s celebrate.”

  Which was Stax lingo for :

  Undress, go bounce on the bed and rub what the parents gave ya.

  Rubby dee rub in ze Stax club.

  Fast forward.

  Lots of sweat and exotic animal sound effects later, Joy put her clothes back on and noticed Roman sipping a hot cocoa with lemon cream. He laid on his emperor-sized bed like a hero who had just conquered Mt. Everest. Which in a way he just did.

  Joy said,

  “What’s your next step, Roman?”

  He took another sip of his drink, paying only attention to his liquid refreshment. The cream tasted sweet on his lush lips.

  “Don’t call me Roman, call me Mr. Stax.”

  She finished her ponytail, put on a faint smile, because Roman surely liked to joke.

  “Mr. Stax, what’s the next step in the Blogbuster? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  He concentrated on his drink without looking at her.

  “Nah, that won’t be necessary, Joy, it’s all taken care of.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Already? I thought that’s my department?”

  He looked at her for the first time after the rub session.

  “Not anymore.”

  Joy’s face froze mid-expression. Roman moaned.

  “Joy, it was fun, really, but now you should go. I’ve got business to do.”

  He waved her away like a neglected dog.

  “Ah yeah, almost forgot. You have twenty-two hours left to clear your desk.”

  Joy swallowed. This time her spit.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  She tried to smile, but it felt forced. Roman squinted.

  “Ninety percent of the time, yeah, but now? Not so much.”

  Joy’s face morphed into a deluxe blank expression. Roman sighed, and he was sick of sighing today.

  “Joy, baby. Don’t big-deal this. You got ten seconds to leave before I call security.”

  She flipped him the finger with her feline hand and cursed till her mouth shot spit bombs at his direction. She stormed out the suite and slammed the door shut. Roman Stax sighed, now for the last time, took another sip of his White Russian and checked out the possible contestants for his Blogbuster show. He wanted to have at least one maverick vlogger.

  Maybe he’d found one already.

  — ACT I —

  V for Vlogger

  4

  Bam.

  He stood on the street, next to his BMX retrobike, feeling the afternoon sun shining down on him. It was the late summer burn making the air feel thick and chokey with every breath. His sweat tasted salty on his tongue, or maybe that was the result of the impending pressure. The pressure of two hundred and twenty-five people around the globe, tuned in to see him live. Two hundred and twenty-five peeps eager to see what Bam did next. Eager to see where Bam went bam!

  “Wait for it,” he said on his video blog, and they did. Because Bam never disappointed.

  “Are you ready?”

  He logged into the comment section. Twenty-three watchers wrote ‘yes’ in realtime. They were ready the second he announced his stunt. Bam sighed. Here he was about to risk his life, and only twenty-three people bothered to comment. It wasn’t fair. Still, he had to show up, do his shtick. Today, a few hundred peeps. Tomorrow, millions. At least that was the lie he told himself daily when no one was around.

  So Bam raised his chin, looked skyward. It was a clear blue kind of day, not a single cloud in the sky. But with all the smog, you couldn’t tell. The sky was covered in fifty shades of grey.

  “Do it, Bam, Do it,” one commenter said.

  “Yes, hurry up, before my boss passes by my cubicle and realizes I’m not working,” a female fan said.

  “Bam, Bam, Bam.”

  Oh, those fans.

  Gotta compel ‘em all.

  Bam turned his glance back to the street. Not a single soul or vehicle on the asphalt, except for the wooden ramp shaped towards the sky. It’s on, he said to himself. But when he began to get into position, he noticed a small dot descending from the nearby brick building. First it looked like a plane, or a satellite, but the dot zigzagged closer and closer, till it appeared five meters above Bam’s head. It was a black, quadcopter-style drone humming from above.

  “Booh,” Bam said under his breath. The drone pointed its sensors at him. Unleashed beep beep sounds. Bam squinted.

  “Do me a favor, droney, and get the hell away from here, I’m in the middle of a stunt.”

  The drone didn’t speak English, so it circled around him with more mechanical and digital sound effects. Bam flipped it off and checked his video blog channel, where comments from the community flooded in.

  “Maybe it has a crush on you, Bam.”

  “Uh-oh, it’s going to give you a headshot now.”

  “Maybe it wants to watch your stunt, too.”

  The drone rang out another beep sound before it elevated over the nearby building. The smog swallowed it up,
finally, Bam thought. He took his BMX and rolled it into position. Watched a half dozen people standing on the sidewalk, fingers poised to hit the record button at the start of the action. Some gave him two thumbs up, others flipped him the middle finger. Fans and trolls alike.

  “You can do it, Bam,” a red-haired girl said.

  She held up a sign smeared with cursive letters. It read, ‘Bam into me’.

  Which was fan lingo for ‘marry me’. Bam smiled, shot her the victory pose. Even from afar, he could see the girl’s face blushing in pink colors. What a cutie, but he needed to focus on the stunt for the few fans that cared.

  He grabbed the BMX handles, shifted his butt around the seat. No matter how much he swayed, he couldn’t find a comfortable position. He never did. Whatever. He turned one last time to his community.

  “Here I come, world, are you watching?”

  A few were.

  Let’s do this.

  He pushed the pedals and rolled into motion toward the ramp. His bike dashed across the asphalt, Bam the Blitz. The rubber tires grabbed the road. Both bystanders and houses blurred as he passed by. Bam entered the ramp with fifty kilometers, shot up and reached midair.

  Vooosh.

  This feeling

  Floating on cloud nine

  High above the disappointment

  Into the sky of possibilities

  Reaching for the stars

  Until…

  5

  Bam, meet drone. Drone, meet Bam.

  He never saw it coming, but in midair, an itsy-bitsy drone floated just as high as Bam. Worse, it jetted into him. Meat and metal collided.

  Instant pain tango for two.

  Sky became asphalt.

  Man and machine hit the ground together. Bam experienced it in slowmo. The impact spread like a numbing virus throughout his body. A blunt pressure that choked his breath, squeezed his body. Flat on the ground, he saw the drone shattering to pieces. Sparkle effects everywhere he looked, a free fireworks show with pretty lights.

  “Oh jeez.”

  With his face planted flat on the asphalt, Bam tried to turn around, but gravity pulled him down into the concrete surface. A stabbing sensation scratched from his stomach’s inside. Breathing was shallow. Bam grasped for air but it seemed to elude him. He crawled and cringed at the same time, heard shouting from the sidewalk. Turned his head to the right, saw people dropping signs and running towards him. Girls covered their mouths, guys their eyes. The air carried their words of concern, but the pain tuned out their meaning. Only blurry images and muffled sounds were discernible. Barely.