Food City: Moderation Online, #1

By Michael La Ronn

The science fiction series that will make you scratch your head, then say "this is awesome!"

The year 2067: Obesity becomes the #1 killer of humanity.

 

The only salvation: a virtual RPG called Moderation Online, where patients live in a fantasy kingdom. Vegetable NPCs subconsciously train humans how to make better choices in life. 

 

The only problem: a virus that introduces an evil empire of processed foods who undo all of the vegetables' progress.

Kendall Barnes is the newest entrant in this idyllic world. African-American, obese, diabetic, and a survivor of a heart attack, the game is his last chance at a normal life…until he finds himself in the most epic food fight of all time.

Food City is the first book in Michael La Ronn's Moderation Online series, inspired by Final Fantasy and JRPGs. With a fast-paced story, fun characters, and lots of action, Moderation Online is mouthwateringly cool. 

Click now to buy your copy today!

 

V2.0

• Language: English
• Publisher: Author Level Up LLC
• Release date: Feb 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386519508

Michael La Ronn

Science fiction and fantasy on the wild side! Michael La Ronn is the author of many science fiction and fantasy novels including The Last Dragon Lord, Android X, and Eaten series. In 2012, a life-threatening illness made him realize that storytelling was his #1 passion. He’s devoted his life to writing ever since, making up whatever story makes him fall out of his chair laughing the hardest. Every day. To get updates when he releases new work + other bonuses, sign up by visiting www.michaellaronn.com/list

Book preview

Prologue

EARTH, North America, 2067

---

"Dr. Overton, while I appreciate that you're using breakthrough technology to treat my husband, I'm not so sure that a video game will cure him."

Dr. Peter Overton suppressed a sigh as an African-American woman dabbed her moist eyes with a tissue. Two children clung to her dress with worried looks on their faces.

Through the hospital waiting room window, rain fell slanted across the blustery sky, and moonlight bathed the hospital grounds below in a pale gray.

It had been raining for the last week. Dr. Overton wished for sunlight, clear air, and a blue sky in which to give the bad news. But the rain fell, a relentless staccato against an undertone of thunder.

I understand how you feel, Dr. Overton said, choosing his words carefully.

Jamilla Barnes sobbed, heaving loudly. She was obese, with a round face and long dreadlocks.

Dr. Overton let her cry. He felt for her, like he did for all of his patients’ families, but his heart stopped breaking for them many years ago. He clasped his hands together and spoke softly.

Your husband suffered a massive heart attack. We were able to stabilize him, but he has not woken up yet.

When will he wake up? Jamilla asked.

It’s hard to say, Dr. Overton said. It could be days, weeks, or months.

Jamilla shook her head and wiped her eyes. I’d like to see him.

I’m happy to let you in the room, Dr. Overton said, but I need to warn you about what you’re about to see.

Here came the bad news.

The news no one ever wanted to hear because it sounded so strange.

And he was going to give it for the twentieth time this week. With no coffee in his system, no painkillers to deaden the sharp edge of burnout.

Kendall is already inside the video game, Dr. Overton said. We have him hooked up to it, so there a lot of wires and technological things in the room.

Jamilla frowned.

My husband has a heart attack and you put him in a video game? Jamilla asked.

Dr. Overton pursed his lips. It’s deeper than that. Come with me.

Kendall Barnes was an obese black man who lay in a spacious hospital room. He was hooked up to a ventilator.

A coal-black VR headset rested over his eyes. A heart rate monitor blinked over the space where the eyes were. A long wire connected it to a server in the wall, which glittered behind a glass panel. Monitoring screens were mounted all over the room, measuring brain function, sleep patterns, and heart rate.

Jamilla gasped.

For Overton, this wasn’t anything new. Kendall looked like the wave of a thousand patients he’d seen this year. Obese, diabetic, lucky to be alive.

All over the world, we have seen an epidemic, Dr. Overton said. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but we’ve been seeing heart-related diseases killing people, almost as if a time bomb exploded.

He hesitated.

Time bomb.

Poor choice of words.

It's not like we haven't treated heart disease, but this is worse. It's devastating, Dr. Overton said. The medical societies of the world have committed to stopping this, so they partnered with gaming companies, and leading psychologists. They developed a virtual reality game experience, and we are hooking up victims’ brains to it.

I don’t understand, Jamilla said, caressing Kendall’s forehead. I signed the consent papers, but I wasn't aware of—

It’s quite simple, Overton said. It really is, Mrs. Barnes. In order for Kendall to live with heart disease, he’s got to make drastic lifestyle changes. But we’ve been telling patients this for decades and it hasn’t worked. This virtual reality experience—called Moderation Online—immerses them in a world that teaches them the importance of eating right. It's an ingenious game design that subconsciously steers patients into making nutritional decisions at the neural level. We have seen a tremendous amount of success from initial tests. We see drastic weight loss and lasting good habits.

Jamilla buried her head in Kendall’s chest.

I’ve been told it’s a paradise, Dr. Overton said. The science behind it is to take healthy foods such as vegetables, turn them into characters, and assign them names and personalities. Have you ever heard of role-playing games, Mrs. Barnes?

Jamilla shook her head.

Dr. Overton pulled his clipboard from under his arm and drew a picture.

Imagine for a moment that Kendall is a character in the virtual reality experience. He's interacting with all the vegetable characters, who live in cities and towns, having a good time. The longer Kendall is there and the more positive experiences he has with the characters, the wiser he becomes about the game world. Follow me so far?

Jamilla nodded.

Dr. Overton continued drawing. Now, here's where science comes in. As Kendall becomes more aware of the positives of vegetables, his experience correlates with brain function. The more experience he gains, the more his brain associates vegetables with proper nutrition and diet. Thus, when he wakes up, his brain will be conditioned to make better choices in his everyday life. Does that make sense?

What happens if he gets hurt in the world? Jamilla asked. Can he—

Dr. Overton patted her hand. Die? Absolutely not. No one dies in this game world. Now, it was created to be completely immersive, meaning he can smell, see, touch, taste, et cetera. For Kendall, this world is his new reality. But it’s a paradise, as I said. Kendall is completely safe.

Oh, Jamilla said, sighing with relief. Thank you for explaining that.

Dr. Overton smiled. It sounds…ridiculous, to be sure, but there is solid science behind it. The characters are driven by artificial intelligence—state of the art—and the adventures in this world are nothing dangerous. Mostly farming and exercise-oriented. Again, there's leading science behind it. By completing these adventures and learning to co-exist with these characters, Kendall is developing a foundation of good nutritional choices, one that will hopefully last permanently when he wakes up. He won't be able to go to the grocery aisle without thinking about the wonderful adventures he had, along with his vegetable friends.

Jamilla took Kendall’s hand. She rubbed it gingerly.

We talked about this happening, she said. A heart attack. We saw it happening to people every day in the headlines. Never thought it would happen to us. I mean, we’re only thirty-three years old, you know?

Heart attacks don’t care what age you are, Dr. Overton said. But fortunately, it’s never too late to start making good decisions.

Never too late, she said. She brushed one hand along the VR headset and clutched Kendall’s hand with the other. It’s never too late, baby.

Officer Jackson Hargrave made his nightly walk around the server room.

He strolled through tall, narrow aisles full of humming and glittering servers. The air was cool, with pockets of warmth as he passed the server fans.

Hard to believe there were hundreds of people hooked up to these servers, just here alone. All over the world there were thousands more, something Hargrave couldn't wrap his head around.

He shone a flashlight through the darkness, sweeping it up and down the long aisles.

With his other hand, he ate a chocolate candy bar, crinkled the wrapper with his fingers.

He knew he shouldn’t have been eating it. Junk food was banned from the hospital due to the heart attack epidemic, but he couldn’t help himself.

He was healthy enough. Making rounds through this server room, which took up an entire wing of the hospital, was enough to keep the weight off.

This was the only place a man could eat a candy bar in peace. Above, in the hospital proper, it was gloomy as hell. Doctors burning out and families losing their minds.

Yeah, this was the best possible place to be on a rainy night like this. In the quiet shadows of servers.

He stopped at a server whose lights were blinking purple. He clucked his tongue.

Some sort of technical error. Hell if he understood these things. But they always told him to look for purple lights. Purple lights meant trouble.

He pulled his walkie-talkie off his belt.

Hey there, I’m at server two hundred. Looks like there’s something wrong with it.

A staticky voice spoke back. On it. I’ll send an engineer.

He hooked his walkie-talkie back on his belt.

And then he heard something.

Footsteps.

He turned around.

Nothing.

No one.

Yet the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

He reached for his gun and crept forward through the darkness.

Rustling sounds came from the next aisle.

His heart raced as he readied his gun.

He rounded the corner, letting his flashlight shine away the shadows.

A man in a hood was crouched at one of the servers. He had a phone in his hand, and the phone was connected to one of the servers. He was typing code onto the screen.

Hey! Hargrave cried.

The hooded man disconnected the wire from the server. A notification flashed across his screen.

UPLOAD COMPLETE

The man smirked and ran.

Stop! Hargrave cried.

He fired, but the man ducked and wove into another aisle.

Hargrave reached for his walkie-talkie.

We’ve got an intruder down here. I need some assistance!

Hargrave ran after the man.

A door ahead slammed.

Hargrave burst through the door, into the loading bay.

Tires screeched.

A motorcycle revved and sped through a slightly open garage door.

Hargrave chased him to the door, rolled underneath into an alley. Rain poured onto his shoulders.

He crouched, aimed at the motorcycle and fired.

He missed.

The motorcycle reached the end of the alley and merged into the traffic of a busy street. Hargrove ran into the street, panting.

The street fed into a highway that wound between a maze of skyscrapers. The motorcycle disappeared in the traffic.

Hargrave put his hands on his knees.

Did you apprehend the suspect? a voice on his walkie-talkie asked.

No, Hargrave said. But you better call Dr. Overton. We’ve got a problem on our hands.

What do you mean he uploaded something to the servers? Dr. Overton asked.

In Kendall Barnes’s room, Dr. Overton kept his voice low as a female software engineer explained to him what happened.

We can’t tell what the damage is yet, she said. But there’s a virus in the network now.

And security couldn’t catch the hacker? he said.

The engineer shook her head.

It had to be someone from the food industry, Dr. Overton said. I’m convinced of it. They've resisted this treatment since day one.

Dr. Overton had heard of attempted hackings at other hospitals. But none had ever been successful. He felt a pit opening up at the bottom of his stomach.

All we know right now is that the virus has interjected itself in the geographical center of the game world, the engineer said. It’s spreading at a rapid rate. We don't know what will happen.

Can we shut off the game? Dr. Overton asked.

I highly discourage it, the engineer said. There are tens of thousands of people all over the world connected to it. Because of the virtual interface with their brains, turning the system off would kill a great deal of them.

Let’s rip off VR headsets then, Dr. Overton said. That'll solve it.

The engineer shook her head quickly. From what we can tell, the virus has been designed to create a fatal electrical shock if we try to remove the headsets in any way. That was very clear in the code strings that we examined.

Shit, Dr. Overton said under his breath. Shit, shit shit.

Yeah, the engineer said. It's a shit show, all right. Our team is scrambling.

Dr. Overton glanced at Jamilla, who was singing softly to Kendall.

I just told this woman that her husband was going to be okay and that there was no threat to life, he said. Am I going to have to tell her otherwise?

The engineer shrugged.

Damn engineers. They never gave straight answers.

He rubbed his temples. Call in the disaster response team. They’ve got programmers. Best in the world. Hopefully they can patch over this thing.

Let’s hope so, the engineer said. But it will take some time. The virus is unlike anything we've ever seen. It could be many months until a patch is ready, and even then—

I don’t care what it takes, Dr. Overton said. I’ve got to do right by my patients. I won’t let them die without exhausting every option.

Dr. Overton looked at Kendall again. The man’s chest moved up and down. He wondered just what the hell was going on inside the man’s mind now.

Whatever it was, Kendall Barnes might just be fighting for his life.

One Year Later…

Chapter 1

CITY OF NEW EATON, Middle Rind

---

Kendall Barnes walked the streets of the Middle Rind with a giant knife and fork in his back pocket.

He emerged from a dirty alley into an avenue of cereal box and soda bottle skyscrapers lit up on every floor.

Rivers of people moved up and down the sidewalks. Walking alongside them were anthropomorphic candy bars, boxed dinners, doughnuts, and other processed foods, each with bright packaging and droopy eyes, adding artificial color to the area.

The humans smiled as they walked in half-struts, half-waddles, mumbling to themselves and licking their lips. Many were overweight and obese.

The foods (called Gourmans) were at least one to two feet taller than the humans and, with the exception of a few wide ones, were mostly skinny and lean. Some mingled with the humans, laughing and cracking jokes; others looked serious and as if they were on their way to somewhere important.

Enormous, three-story tall LED screens on every building streamed glitzy commercials fighting to catch the attention of the crowd.

In the street, traffic zipped by, each car and hovercycle leaving a trail of sparkling, colorful light behind it.

Kendall took in the busy street and snapped his fingers in a jazzy rhythm. He inhaled, taking in every delicious smell of his city, then he exhaled, smiling.

Gonna be a good night.

He had chosen his long white t-shirt, jean shorts, and green basketball shoes specifically for tonight. Under his shirt, he wore a smooth, golden chain that his friend, a french fry, had given him. He was determined to be the coolest-dressed black guy at the Festival of the Harvest.

Kendall skipped into the street and joined the flow of people. A TV dinner blimp floated overhead, casting an elongated shadow over everything below. A female voice echoed from a megaphone on the blimp’s bridge.

Attention citizens: The Festival of the Harvest will begin shortly. Nonpareil Square will be closed to traffic for the rest of the evening. You may have also noticed pipes along the street . . .

Kendall looked to his left and saw a line of green metal pipes rising up from a sewer grate. They ran parallel to the street and extended for several blocks to Nonpareil Square, where searchlights crisscrossed the dusk sky and music played from loudspeakers on the high-rises.

Please be mindful of the pipes, the voice said as the blimp finished crossing and the street brightened again.

Kendall had never seen the pipes before, and he wondered what they were for. As he walked past, he heard a strange bubbling sound coming from them. 

An