season zero. prologue.

“Number 15…”

“Number 15, can you hear me?”

I can hear him. His voice is lost in the distance but I’m too busy daydreaming about what I’m going to have for lunch…noodles.

“Numbe—avril! Sorry, I didn’t realise it was you.”

He is standing behind the counter looking at me, smiling.

“Are you here, or are you somewhere else?”

“I’m here!” I reassure him and skip up to the counter.

“Glad to hear it,” he says. “What for?”

James runs a pawn shop that specialises in nerdy things, things I like.

“I’m looking for something new and I wanted to see if I can swap it for this...” I slap the Game Boy cartridge on the counter. Just the cartridge. I lost the case. James looks at it.

“You brought me Pokémon Yellow? One of the first games I sold you and that I painstakingly imported because you begged me to.”

I smile out the corner of my mouth.

“I don’t think I begged… but does that mean it’s like a first edition and therefore valuable?”

“No it does not,” James’s eyes widen as he mock-reprimands me. “It means you’ve hurt my feelings and you should go home and put that somewhere special and don’t dare try to sell it again. Anyway, I’ve got nothing for you—”

“Nothing!?”

“Exceeeeept. Some guy came in earlier and traded this in.”

James slaps his own caseless cartridge on the counter. I look at it.

“Blockchain Warriors…? The fuck is this?”

“This,” he says, holding it up, “Is probably the one thing I have back here that you haven’t played. Honestly, I have no idea what it is, I haven’t even had time to check it out myself. A guy traded it in about an hour ago. You can take it for free and—”

“YES!” I snatch it from his hand.

“...and if you don’t like it, just bring it back.”

“Roger!” I give him the wink. “Thanks!” He gives me the eye roll.

“Keep out of trouble!” he says as I begin walking backwards. I give him a playful shrug.

James is the best.

I’m barely outside before I’ve whipped out my Game Boy, rammed the new game inside and flicked the switch to turn it on.

© 1995-2095 Cryptofreak inc.

“A bit weird that the copyright stretched from a few years ago to a hundred years in the future.” I think to myself.

But things are about to get a whole lot weirder. As I weave in and out of the commuters heading home from work, the screen reads:

BLOCKCHAIN WARRIORS

This game was made for you…

Press A to continue

An ambitious start to say the least. I press A and the game seems to glitch. I’m able to read something about a “Txn Hash” before the screen goes blank. I consider doubling-back to James’s shop, but the next screen stops me dead in my tracks.

Go left onto Ashton Lane

“Jesus!”, a commuter drone that must have been walking behind me swerves to avoid me.

I look in front of me and sure enough, there’s Ashton Lane. Despite the surreal situation, my mind does that familiar safety check: am I about to make one of those seemingly inconsequential decisions that actually put me in grave danger?

…please

Well, the haunted Game Boy has asked nicely, so that’s something. The area is full of people, bars and restaurants, and I am also seriously fucking intruiged, so I take a left. As I reach Ashton Lane, the screen changes.

Hold the Game Boy up

I comply. Nothing happens. It’s late afternoon and still light, but the fairy lights that hang over the lane have just come on. People are walking to and from the bars and are probably wondering what the hell I’m doing but I’m far too curious to care what they think. I look back at the screen.

Yes, perfect. A little higher…

Move it to the left…

That’s it!

I freeze. I must look like an oddball. Nothing seems to be happening, until… is the Game Boy getting hotter? Am i imagining it? No, ok, it’s definitely getting hotter. A high pitched ringing sound starts in my ear. The fairy lights above me, previously static, start flickering on and off.

Press A

Now!

I slam a thumb into the button,

Avril blacked out

I can’t see anything clearly, just coloured lights. Pink, purple, orange and blue with sparks dancing across the expanse. I can still hear the ringing sound. A vertical silver line begins to form, splitting my field of vision in two. I try to focus on it and it appears to come closer.

What the hell is going on?

I’m realising that I can move towards the length of silver now. I begin to reach for it with hands I can’t see. I grip it and I feel it right away. I have a split second to notice how cold it is before I am wrenched forward, arms first into the abyss.

Everything has gone dark and the ringing has been replaced by the deafening sound of clanking metal and the sensation of being pulled forward faster than my body is happy about.

The colours return. The pinks, purples, oranges and blues, and then they disappear. The silver slips from my fingers and I’m falling in the dark.

I swear loud as I land heavily. My shoulder explodes in agony. I seem to be bouncing, which is making it worse. More clanking? The motion finally begins to settle and I’m left with a burning hot pain in my arm.

I can open my eyes.

It’s dark but I can see what I’ve landed on. I’m lying, suspended on a bed of metal chains, like a hammock only not as soft. It’s clearly what’s dislocated my fucking arm and as I try to move to get a better look at it, one of my legs slips through the chains. My heart skips and I manage to swing it back up. I have no idea what’s under these chains but I’m not ready to find out.

Past my feet and through the gloom, the chains seem to simply disappear into the darkness. I strain my neck to look behind me and I can just make out a large platform that the chains are attached to. There’s only one way to get there and this is not going to be pretty. With a great deal of pain, I slowly roll myself onto my stomach. I give myself a mental pat on the back. Well done me. Pretty smooth under the circumstances, avril.

I reach my good arm out, grab one of the chains in front of me and begin to pull myself forward.

I groan, I heave, I swear, I manage not to throw up. For the finale I pull hard one last time and perform a sideways roll that would get a unanimous zero at a children’s gymnastics competition and somehow, I make it.

After I catch my breath, I sit up and take a look at my surroundings. The platform is huge with what looks like a computer at the far end. Either side, giant metal tubes, like organ pipes. Everything is a dull metal grey. Where in hell am I?

I manage to stand and begin walking slowly to the end of the platform with the giant pipes and familiar-looking computer. As I get closer, I see each pipe has a section cut away revealing individual chains moving inside each one like elevator cables. Except they’re not cables. They’re chains.

Chains. That means something. A memory from before flashes in front of my eyes

BLOCKCHAIN WARRIORS

This game was made for you…

A disembodied voice booms across the platform. A man’s voice, nasally.

“avril, is this working, can you hear me?” “I’ve got you now, I can see you!”

I stop walking. “You can see me?” I take a look at myself for the first time: a few scrapes and a tear in my hoody but otherwise, fine.

“YES!” Shouts his disembodied voice. He begins celebrating and calms down enough to add, “And hear you!”

I purse my lips together. “Well, that’s nice. Because I have a few questions…”

“Yes, no, of course. The transaction has obviously left you a bit disorientated. First things first, can you walk over to that ATM machine.” The way he says it sounds a little forced, like he’s getting his mouth around “ATM machine” for the first time in his life.

That’s why the computer looked familiar. It’s a cash machine. “You know, that’s actually a tautology,” I say, looking up, “The ‘M’ stands for ‘machine’, so you don’t need to add the word machine. Then it’s an Automated Teller Machine…machine.”

“That makes sense.” The voice concedes. Consider yourself schooled. I walk towards it.

I arrive at the ATM. It’s got the usual number pad, slots and screen. It also has its own keyboard. I pat my pockets. “I’m afraid I don’t have my card with me.”

“Yes, well, a real…ATM used to dispense forms of fiat currency, as you know, but this is just an interface.”

Used to…

“Well, I say just an interface but this is actually designed to dispense whatever you want or need. If it’s on-chain, this delivers it for you.”

“If it’s on-chain… what does that mea—wait…anything?”

“Yes, almost. In fact, I suggest starting with a shoulder-brace-kit. That looks painful and you’ll need it in good working order. Just type it in, it will search for and deliver it.”

“I just type what I need in here, and it’s going to appear? Like eBay?”

“Like… oh, eBay! Yes, kind of, avril but with more possibilities. As I said, whatever you want, really.”

“Whatever?”

“Whatever. Now, just type in ‘send shoulder-brace-kit’ and it should — ”

I lean over the console and look at the screen. A single blinking block appears to be awaiting my command. Ok, priorities.

I begin punching the keys with my good arm.

I hit return.

One of the chains in a pipe to my right makes a crunching sound and begins speeding faster and faster. I notice now that all the chains are moving at different speeds, some moving up, some moving down. The fastest moving begins to slow until it comes to an end and stops.

Attached to the end is a huge metal box. I walk over to it and as I pull it forward. It detaches and slams onto the platform narrowly missing my toes, the box comes up to just above waist-height. There’s no handle but when I compress one of the sides it pushes in and back out again. The side slowly begins coming down. Inside is exactly what I’m hoping for.

“That’s not a shoulder-brace-kit…”

Nope! It’s several hundred packs of cigarettes. The voice continues to try and talk to me while I move back and forth from the ATM machine and various chains. As his voice washes over me, I order a box full of expensive whisky that I once read about and another one full of a brand of chocolate I used to blow all my money on as a kid.

Look, if I’m dreaming then I might as well be in charge.

I finally order this shoulder-brace-kit thing and I’m slightly confused by what I find. It looks like a robotic shoulder pad: metal, wires, some lights. It seems to cover part of the arm too.

“Lift it out with your good arm and place it on your injured shoulder. It shouldn’t be too heavy.”

He’s right. It is surprisingly light, but feels tough. As I try to place it on, it makes a noise and clamps down on my arm, scaring the shit out of me and making me yelp in pain. Luckily, this doesn’t last long as there is another sound, like compressed air being released. My arm immediately stops feeling painful, which is just as well, because what follows is a loud snapping noise and I can only assume my shoulder has just been reset

“There, your shoulder is fixed, but you should keep the mech on while the anaesthetic wears off. It will also assist with movement during that time.”

“It looks pretty damn awesome so I might just leave it on.”

I jump up on the crate of whisky and pull out a cigarette.

“You forgot to order a crate of lighters…” The nasally voice suggests, smugly.

I look up. Is up where the voice is coming from? I scowl and then look at the shoulder-brace. I find a panel and pry it open. Excellent. Inside, there are a bunch of wires, I pull one out, bite the insulating plastic off, spit it out and work the wire until I’ve got a few sparks. I dip the cigarette in the whisky and use the sparks to light the cigarette. I was hoping that might annoy him, but he seems pleased.

“That’s the type of resourcefulness I was hoping for.”

“Ok”, I tell him, taking a drag, “You ready to give me some answers?”

There’s a slight pause but once he begins talking, it’s clear that this is something he’s rehearsed.

“avril, my name is Dr Bruce and I’ve brought you here for a very important reason.”

“Dr Bruce…” I look at the shoulder-brace, “From the future, right? I’ve time-travelled.”

“Kind of…” There’s a short silence. “avril, some time in your near future, the world begins to change. Centralised monetary systems are replaced by decentralised currencies which are secured through something called cryptography. You know what that is, right?”

“Well, I read about it once online, yes. It’s got something to do with encryption, right? I send you a message, it’s then encrypted and made unreadable to anyone who doesn’t have some form of… digital key?”

“Very good. That’s the basics. Not long after the turn of the millennium, financial systems are bent to the point where they almost break. In response, a currency is created which compiles a number of encrypted transactions, called a block, and links them together, like a chain.”

“Blockchain”

“Yes, which becomes known as blockchain technology.”

“So the future is a decentralised utopia where the people are in charge and everything is fair?”

“Sadly not, avril. We came close to something like that, but mistakes were made. Mistakes that we now think we can fix. That’s where you come in.”

I let him continue.

“Via your rudimentary gaming device, we have been able to digitally tokenise you, in other words, you now exist on the blockchain… or rather, you can access any blockchain you want.”

So far, so surreal although not much more surreal than an ATM dispensing cigarettes and whisky so I decide to play along.

“Ok, cool. I don’t remember you asking for my permission, but let’s put a pin in that. What if I want to leave…to be de…tokenised?”

“I apologise for not asking your permission, and also because I can’t pull you out just yet. There are things I need you to do.”

“How convenient.”

Silence.

“So what is it that you want me to do?”

“As I said, my name’s Dr Bruce and I work with a group of individuals who believe that cryptography and blockchain technology have not been used to their full potential. In fact, they were placed on a dangerous trajectory not long after they were first invented. However, a series of experiments with the technology have opened up new opportunities for a type of course correction.”

His vagueness is irritating but I can see there’s a deal being made here. I know deals.

“Well, Bruce, my rate just went up.”

He lets out a short stuttering laugh.

“No, no, you’re right, of course. There are no sticks, but plenty of juicy carrots on this journey.“

I weigh up the alternatives by looking around the dull, alien room.

“Ok, so show me what you want me to do.”

Bruce instructs me to go over the ATM machine. I hop off the box, walk over and stub my cigarette out beside the keyboard.

“Enter your username: avril15. All lowercase. Then type: withdraw.”

I type it in, hit return and this time the chain directly to my left changes direction. This time my box arrives from above, attached to the chain at both ends. I unhook it and drag it into the middle of the platform.

Inside, is an absolute fucking treasurehouse of goodness.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Clothes, futuristic technology, syringes, jewellery, even a telescopic baton which I recognise and immediately pocket.

I pick a yellow tracksuit with stripes down the sleeves. There’s just enough room in the box for me to get changed without having to worry about the omnipresent Bruce. Anything is better than a holey hoody. Unfortunately, the left sleeve of the tracksuit top rips as I try to pull it over the shoulder brace,

“For Pete’s sake! ....Pete?” My stomach lurches and I instinctively, pointlessly, look around. There’s no way he’s here and I decide it’s better not to ask and risk revealing any vulnerabilities.”

I rip the entire left sleeve off instead. As I throw it back inside, I notice a smaller box with avril15 written on its lid. I open the box to reveal a helmet, the type of helmet the old fighter jet pilots used to wear but this one is a lot more fucking badass.

It’s got tubes coming out, sticks and skulls and for some reason, a giant “X” over each eye.

“Put it on.”

I raise it over my head and slide it down and then, everything changes.

The room explodes with light. The pinks, purples, oranges and blues are back. The whole platform is bathed in colour and the giant pipes are a pearlescent crystal. Even the ATM has undergone a makeover. And the chains, they’re all different colours, shapes and sizes. There’s a big gold one, a silver one, one that looks like it’s made of lasers. This is in-fucking-credibly trippy, and I like it. I really like it.

I stare at the gold chain to my left. The helmet’s visor crackles into a head-up display and the chain becomes annotated.

“BITCOIN”

“What’s this? ”

“A visual representation of a blockchain. This was the first one ever invented.”

This one looks cool. I turn to the laser one.

“TRON”

“Yeah,” it doesn’t sound like Dr Bruce shares my enthusiasm, “Tron died a long time ago. It exists only as a meme in my time.”

“What’s a meme?”

He laughs. “I suppose not everything in the future is so bad. You’ll find out what memes are. So, Bitcoin is here, Tron is here, all the blockchains are here. The old and the new. The ones that made it and the ones that didn’t. That’s the point. From this platform you can access every chain and follow every transaction back into the past and unlock their assets… steal them…even destroy them.”

“Assets, the boxes? Wait, if I’m robbing people’s future assets, isn’t that essentially time-travel?”

Silence. And then, both, at the same time,

“Kind of.”

I’m grinning from ear-to-ear. This guy has me interested now.

“So what do you actually want me to do?”

“Well, let’s put it this way. You’re going to need that baton.”

I remove it from my pocket. My uncle had given me one when i was young, so I know how to use it. I extend it with the flick of my wrist but get a fright when a jolt of electricity runs down it. I shiver with excitement. My old one didn’t do that.

“I can see you are the right person for the job, avril… There are some things which were done on these so-called immutable blockchains that need to be undone. Some tokens that very much need burning.”

I’m not really sure what he’s on about but he tells me to go over to the newly madeover ATM, now pink with neon lights and asks me to perform a new search. The nearest chain to my right begins to slow while the heads-up display on my visor reads:

ETHEREUM

“You need to climb on that.”

I look at the chain. It seems to be slick with oil. I touch it and some of the oil splashes onto the sleeve of my lovely new yellow tracksuit but at this point in this wild train ride, I’m past caring.

There is something I need to ask though.

“Brucy, be honest, are you a goody… or are you a baddy?”

“…I don’t believe anything is inherently good or evil.”

Fuck. That’s always what the baddies say.

“Ok… An easier question, where will this take me?”

“You’ll find out.”

Annoying. Well, I’m determined to get at least one question answered. I turn back to the ATM and type in a question. I’m happy to see it works just like Google or MSN Search. However, I’m disappointed and confused by the results. Oh well.

“avril, I don’t know what you are doing, but it’s time to go.”

My grip tightens on the baton in my pocket. It’s time for action.

I think about the danger I’m potentially putting myself in for a split-second, before shrugging, jumping and grabbing onto the chain. It sends me hurtling downwards but this time my body is more than happy to go.

avril disappears. The platform is strewn with boxes, cigarettes, clothes, whisky bottles. On the screen of the ATM, a single blinking block is punctuating avril’s first search term:

SEARCH>DYOR◼

Below it, her second query reads:

What is a meme?

Underneath is a picture of a young girl looking at the camera with a sinister face. In the background a building is on fire. At the bottom, the picture is captioned with chunky white text:

WHEN AVRIL15 ASKS YOU WHAT A MEME IS