Whistleblower

I'll level with you, anybody who knows me won't have much to say in my favour. I'm a loner. From the anime pillows to the dusting of Cheeto crumbs, that cushions the tip tap of my keyboard back home.

My name is Jim Goodman. I'm 27 and I work for Crystal Mind. A company that designs, creates, and distributes videos. We provide videos for psychiatric treatment, mainly.

The whole, stare into the spiral thing? Yeah, it actually works. But instead of a spiral, imagine a rapid current of moving shapes. Like a perpetually warping Rorschach test. You tell the 'patient' whatever it is you want them to change or do and hey presto, changed person.

It's a type of sensory deprivation. It gives the mind nothing else to focus on. Repeating mantras until they're ingrained into your cognitive programming forever. Quitting smoking, fear of spiders, uprooting past trauma; all done with the product that we produce. Except with vastly accelerated effects and better results.

Well, a company called Curiosity.ltd has been working on the most addictive game in history. VR as well. None of your candy crush nonsense. This was plastered everywhere. A game so real, you won't be able to put it down.

However, over the past few weeks, people working for the company have been going missing. Around the time the gaming company showed interest in our brand. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time but people were saying it was some publicity stunt. A marketing campaign to show how addictive the game was.

But I've seen the truth. It might not be too late to change what they've done and that's why I'm writing to you. I'm going to expose everything they've done. I'm the whistleblower. With your help, we can show the public an open wound. Get a lawsuit on our hands. You might even do it in time to save me.

So without further delay, here's what happened.

*****

Yesterday my boss told me that I had to go and make a sales pitch. I don't like to boast but I was easily one of his best marketers. He decided that I'd be the best man to send. It was fine with me. I get paid by commission so the more I accomplish the better.

My boss never said they were a medical association, I just assumed they were. I got into work early this morning. I grabbed my notes and my flash drive and left. My eyes were glued to my phone the entire way there. Squinting against the concave raindrops that distorted my screen. Painting the glass with thin rainbows as I wiped them away with my sleeve.

I pushed past the bustling hoard, scrambling to find a safe place to hide as the thunder began to roll in. Deliberately ignoring each glancing blow from every suitcase and backpack.

"You have arrived. " It announced, straining over the roaring downpour.

I ran past dejected onlookers as they stared defeated at the newly forming river in the alleyway. I was finally out of the deluge. As offices go, it was breathtaking. No chairs with broken wheels and no coffee-stained carpet.

The reception alone was about half a mile long. Arcade machines stretched the length of the room and stood formally with their backs against one wall.

They had: a cafe, a self-serving bar and even a tumble dryer. Neon lights imitated the shapes of various gaming mascots. It was light and fanciful. The building was one great big window.

A huge banner that stretched the full length of the room hung from the ceiling. With spectacular vibrant colours, it advertised an upcoming release. Depicted on the ad were two teenage boys wearing VR headsets, silhouetted by a harsh violet light that emitted from the TV in front of them. Their new slogan was slapped across the bottom in big red letters; taken straight from an 80's slasher movie.

My-Sight VR; A safe place in an unsafe world. Brought to you by Curiosity.ltd.

By then, I'd worked out that this client wasn't in the medical field at all. I'd heard their offers and pop-ups were endless. Emails inviting you to become a playtester or to invest in one of their modules. I never understood the hype around it.

Still, I had a good quarter of an hour before my meeting and I was soaked to the bone. I walked to the sign-in desk. A cry of frustration echoed through the room like a drip in a cave. Surveying the room, I saw one of their employees furiously pounding his fist against the console. He must've lost.

The receptionist smiled sweetly. She asked for my name and who I was there to see. Once I'd signed the visitor's book, she told me to sit down and wait for someone to come and get me.

"Thank you. Ah, would it be alright if I used your tumble dryer? I'm drenched and I'd prefer to be dry while I'm in there." I asked reluctantly. Nobody else was anywhere near them. I felt rather awkward.

"Of course, monsieur." She pulled a red ticket from under her desk. "Be sure to use this when you get there. It'll let the machine know you're one of us."

Before I left I gave a double-take. "One of you? In what sense?"

The woman behind the desk giggled. "It won't charge you for its usage."

I gave a sly wink. "Ah. Got ya'. Thanks."

I headed into the vacant dome that encased the washing area. Everybody was staying clear of the place. I could see why though. I guess you have to be a certain type of person to do laundry at work.

I thought, screw it. It wouldn't take long. Besides I was wearing my vest underneath and everyone else was business casual, I'd blend right in. So I undressed and tossed my shirt, blazer, and tie into one of the open tumble dryers. Folded the ticket carefully into the machine and with an elongated buzz, it gave the ticket back.

I waited a few minutes before it started to mix and bumble. I looked around sheepishly but to my delight, nobody was watching. I perched myself down on one of their sofas situated in the middle of the room. I didn't really know what to do with myself. The place was so open and I was starting to get a little paranoid.

I thought I'd be productive and go through the notes for my presentation. I'd made this pitch several times before but that didn't stop me rifling through my briefcase.

My memory drive was exactly where I usually put it, as were my notes. I was startled when a woman bearing the Curiosity.ink logo came over with a glass of water on a tray. I didn't hear or see her coming, she just appeared. 'You want water?' She proposed. I gave up on trying to look busy and accepted.

I was now the owner of an unwanted glass of water. I set it near my feet and kicked back for a while. The waitress seemed to hover nearby. Strategically spying behind plastic plants.

I thought she was waiting for me to leave so she could be the next lonesome victim in the laundry lounge. For her sake, I cut my spin cycle short. I slipped my suit back on. My clothes were warm, soft and dry enough. I would have to make do with soggy trousers.

I vacated the area and nabbed a comfy armchair near the bar. I'd occasionally throw her an awkward smile but it was met with a face of serious concern. I wondered if she was feeling alright. I checked my phone. I still had ten minutes.

Outside, the rain continued relentlessly. With nothing else to do, I helped myself to the free bar. I thought half a pint of cool larger would take the edge off.

I had no idea why I was so uneasy. It was like some kind of paranoia. I was convinced that there was something afoot but there was no logical reason behind it. I took hold of the cold steel tap and braced a plastic pint glass underneath it. I heard the immediate hurrying of heels clip-clopping their way over.

"Sir, sir!" It was the waitress from earlier. "I'm sorry sir, it's our policy that you drink a glass of water before consuming alcoholic beverages." She took the glass of water off the floor next to my chair and held it as exhibit-A.

"Oh, I'm sorry I had no idea! I'll leave it then. It probably wasn't a great idea to have a drink before my session." In my peripheral vision, I noticed several of the Curiosity consortia had stopped to stare. Eyes frosted with judgement.

I took the glass from her and sat down. I was in hostile territory. This was clearly an establishment built on respect. I needed to keep focused. I settled my glass back in its place and took a deep breath in. The rain was so soothing inside.

In the commotion to get out of the storm, a few other visitors closed the big glass doors behind them. The room had started to build up to a lukewarm temperature and I was starting to feel very cosy.

Time passed. I'd been waiting almost half an hour and I was beginning to wonder if I'd got the right day. I studied my phone to check I had the right building and then took a wander back to the front desk.

"Excuse me." The receptionist sprung to attention. "I am expected, aren't I?"

"I'm very sorry. Everybody is running a little behind today. Please, take a seat and have some complimentary water to refresh yourself." Her politeness was counterfeit and in keeping with any major league body.

"Sure. I'll go do that." Disgruntled, I backed down and returned to my seat. It was starting to get pretty sticky in there. Condensation was starting to scale the polished glass. I took a little sip of my water. It was so chilled it splintered my throat on the way down but refreshing, it was.

A few minutes later, a short woman in a pinstriped suit came to greet me.

She was fairly buxom with short spiky hair. A pristine set of tombstone teeth was framed with cherry red lipstick and set to a full grin.

"John?" She beckoned.

I rose and walked to meet her.

"It's Jim actually. Jim Goodman?" I gulped, a little annoyed.

"Jim!" She smacked her forehead cynically. "Goodness, I do apologise. We see so many people I lose track-" She laughed.

I shook her sweaty palm. "That's quite alright. What's your name, sorry?"

"Maggie."

"Nice to meet you, Maggie," I said affectionately. She seemed to appreciate that I asked her name because as I did so, she straightened her name badge with esteemed pride.

She signalled our departure with a wave of her arm. "Right, shall we?"

I retrieved my briefcase and she led onward. We traded small talk as she led me off into a labyrinth of indistinguishable hallways. Some held conferences, others held gatherings of new recruits unwillingly partaking in icebreakers.

One room hosted nothing but a purple screen. Its glow was entrancing. I could hear voices emanating from the other side as we passed.

In the end, Maggie and I wound up in a mirrored room. It was covered with unnecessary lights that illuminated the first two inches of the tall metallic panelling that armoured the walls.

We approached a set of three elevators and Maggie called for the one in the middle. The doors opened and we went in. There were screens inside. More advertising. This time there was some model holding the VR headset. Plastered with more corny slogans.

Every dream, a reality. Buy now while stocks last.

Maggie leaned in front of me and pressed the highest button on the panel. My stomach churned a little as we began to climb higher. I've never been any good at small talk, I think she sensed that. So in an effort to ease the tension, she sprung a question on me.

"So, Do you enjoy video games, Mr Goodman?"

"Um, no. Not really my thing." I adjusted my tie.

I never got stage fright before a pitch. I suppose it came from the want to do well and be accepted. My hands were getting clammy and I could feel the heat from my steaming body becoming trapped in my shirt. I wouldn't dare untuck it. That would've made me seem unprofessional.

The lady leaned against a handrail that ran the circumference of the lift. She seemed surprised.

"Really?" She asked. "I assumed someone with such a digital job would have a passion for electronics, no?"

I distanced myself with a minute shuffle.

"It's not that. I'm actually quite tech-savvy. See, I only handle the marketing side of things. I know I'm a hypocrite but I actually think that you can become so engrossed in the marvels of the modern age, that it becomes addictive." I proclaimed.

With a new-found air of confidence, I began to calm down.

"Well everybody's addicted to something." She challenged. "What do you do to wind down?"

The lift reached the top floor with a ping. I fixed my posture and put on a confident smile. "I write," I answered.

The doors opened directly into an office with another large window directly in front of me that looked out across the skyline. The interior was grey and drab, like being inside a microwave. There was a glass cabinet seated about a meter away from a large desk.

The cabinets contents glistened gold under the bright office lights. Awards and trophies, spotless and shiny. They had obviously been cleaned regularly over the years that they had been there. Evidenced by the lighter shade of carpet that was hidden away beneath it.

Three people were sitting behind the desk. They sat statuesque and poised. It was only as we drew closer that I realized they were real, breathing, people. In the centre sat a blonde lady in a pastel pink one-piece. Her face was solemn. I thought that odd, for someone dressed in such a casual jumpsuit.

Two senior businessmen sat either side of her. Both appeared calm and attentively leaned forward as I neared. I wondered how men their age actually contributed to an industry like this one. I thought it was rude of me to judge them so early. I'm hardly down with the kids.

The blonde lady rose from her swivelly throne.

"You must be the representative from Crystal Mind." She addressed.

She was articulate. Hair tied back. She sounded European to me but I'm not that good at identifying accents. As she stood with her arms crossed, I felt like I was about to be told off.

"Yes. A pleasure to meet you." I presented my hand for her to shake but she gave no such gesture in return.

The man to her left stepped in to save the situation. He gingerly glanced at the jumpsuit lady as he got up.

"Ian Suffolk. I take care of all the legalities around here. Contracts and so forth. Here."

He reached into his blazer pocket and handed me his business card.

"Defense lawyer, Oh!" I reeled. The age thing made sense now. "I was about to ask how long you'd been a games designer! Jim Goodman, Marketing."

To my delight, Ian actually chucked at my joke and patted me on the arm. He had a strong swing for an old guy. I fought every notion to rub the dull sting that had tenderized my shoulder.

The gentleman on the opposite side stood and I moved my attention to him. He seemed a little more eager than Ian. He had an almost mischievous manner about him.

"Bob Green, Welfare" Palm outstretched, we shook hands and were seated.

I was still a little puzzled as to what this woman's role was. She'd barely said two words to me and yet she seemed to be the head honcho there. Also before I forget, Maggie who guided me around the building was now stood at the back of the room. Standing directly in front of the elevator, like a bouncer outside a nightclub.

"Helena Louth." I jumped a little as she found her voice. "I am the CEO of Curiosity.ltd. Forgive me, it has been a long day. Would you like some water?" Saying this, she reached under her desk. Presumably for a bottle of water.

"No, I was given some earlier. Thank you." She smiled and returned to calmly swivelling from side to side on her chair.

"Ah perfect. Well, let us get started. So, I understand that your company sells video software. Would you be able to tell us more about that, please?" She rested her elbows on the arms of her chair and interlocked her fingers.

"Of course." I rather anxiously opened my briefcase. Counting through my papers I came across a printed email. It recorded communications from Curiosity.ltd and the Crystal Mind connections team. That's when I noticed the first problem.

"I- erm. I'll get right to the presentation but... Sorry, your name was Helena Louth, yes? Well on this email I printed it says, Raymond Fisher is the CEO." I looked to them for an explanation. Both men on either side of Helena shot her a panicked glance.

Helena leant forward in her chair and scoffed through her nose.

"Raymond Fisher died last week. Surgical accident, hence the presence of Mr Suffolk." Both Suffolk and Green nodded in perfect synchronization. I sat back in my chair, massaging the back of my neck.

"Oh my God. A surgical accident?" My voice was diluted with confusion and a small dose of disbelief.

"We intend to sue of course. Please, Mr Goodman, this is a matter of business after all." She never broke eye contact with me.

"No, I understand that Madame. Usually, this sort of thing would've been reported to my superiors. I would've known I was meeting you instead." They stared expectantly. "No matter, I'm here now. Before I begin, I'd like to hear a little about why you'd like to purchase one of our conditioning programmes."

"We are one of the biggest manufacturers of entertainment in the present moment-" She beamed.

I bobbed my head as she spoke. "So I've seen. Your products are everywhere. I hear you're promising incredible things. A VR headset that can plug into any at-home gaming device, as well as plans to make it accessible to handheld devices and computer systems."

"That's correct. We intend to utilise your visual stimuli to help influence potential customers." She confessed.

My eyes narrowed. "Influence? I'll admit, that sounds rather sinister."

Her nails started to pry into the backs of her hands. "Subliminal messaging, Mr Goodman. It's no secret that companies use these techniques all the time. Yes, we use social media as a platform to promote our forever changing industry. It's what it means to survive in the digital world."

The room fell silent, my chest grew cold. I was so mortified. The tension in the air was like a cloud of course dust. I swear it got harder and harder to breathe as the seconds dragged on.

I remembered that I was on commission. Regardless of the fact that these images could potentially condition minds on a semi-permanent level, I had to throw my morals out the colossal corporate window and sell it.

I grabbed the drive out of my briefcase and plugged it into a laptop that stood by on a wheelable cart just to the right of the window.

As I did this the blinds where electrically lowered with the churn of a worn-out motor. With more sounds of tired electrics, coolant fans, and start-up sounds, a projector was slowly lowered from the ceiling and the desktop was shone onto the curtain behind them.

They swivelled around on their chairs to face the projection. The lights were lowered until only the screen and its heartless glow could be seen. I took this brief silence to relax my business face and breathe. I just wanted to finish the pitch and go home.

With my fingers ready on the spacebar, I hit play. The presentation consisted of a short movie about my company. It was absolutely full of it. "What if you could alter your mind for the better?" A deep American narrator voice rattled the windows.

"Remake yourself in the blink of an eye or the click of someone's fingers" A pair of fingers snapped on the screen. The narrator then proceeded to tell the stories of three people in quick succession. A factory worker who quit smoking, a woman who could use public transport without anxiety and some bloke whose sex life had been reanimated thanks to the treatment.

When the ordeal was over, the lights came up and I stood in front of the desk awaiting their verdict. As the blind cracked and shook itself back up again, they continued to gaze out the window. I turned to see Maggie still solid and unchanged.

"Yes." Helena finally broke the silence. I was beyond relieved. I could breathe again.

Upon turning back they still hadn't spun around. Maybe they were in awe or something.