Assurances (Part One)

Government in virtual reality

Victory! The capital city rejoiced at the news. The Elven Union had accepted the formal surrender of the Smash Republic, with its government dissolved and territory now under occupation. The triumphant army was welcomed with a lavish parade through the streets of town, with the Chief of State, Arronder Noldor, leading the procession. He was the first and only Chief in the Union’s current history to lead armies personally in battle, and despite the risks, it had paid off nicely. People cheered and chanted, “Long live democracy!” as Noldor strode with his troops back to their quarters in the city, before returning to the Chief’s Mansion himself.

In the nine-year history of Mercuria, this had proved to be one of its largest wars. Unlike many of the others, it was also widely discussed in the normal world, as though the conflict had concerned actual nations. Observers were, perhaps, not wrong to view it this way. Having achieved global popularity, there were an estimated forty million regular players of Mercuria, each carving out something for themselves in this virtual reality.

Absent from this celebratory occasion and discussion was Minister Eolthain, a newly appointed member of the Cabinet. He was young, only about twenty-five years of age, but he was busy at his new job already, setting his first policies as head of the Ministry of Lore and Wisdom, which some might translate as “Department of Education.” Rather than partake in the merriment, Eolthain wished to make a good impression on his new boss, for he had not met Noldor before, and surely the Chief was expecting nothing but good news going forward, with the Union’s greatest enemy finally subdued.

His appointment was made on the recommendation of his party’s leadership, which Noldor had signed while still on a campaign against the Smashers. When he would return to civilian leadership the next day, Eolthain’s diligence would be sure to prove that he was fit for the job.

This meant that Eolthain had some appointments of his own to make. Some of his overtime labor could also be attributed to necessity, as qualified candidates for the position of his secretary had proved scarce in his first three weeks. He had finally found someone for the role, a Mr. Randir, who was arriving for his first day at this very moment. It was here in Eolthain’s office, away from all the hoots and hollers that greeted the Elven conquerors, that Mr. Randir would meet his own new boss.

“Come in,” replied Eolthain, to the knock at his door, which was already wide open. In walked Mr. Randir, slowly and shyly. “I trust you’re my new secretary?”

“Yes, sir, that would be me,” said Mr. Randir.

“Great.” Eolthain rose from his desk and shook his hand. Seeing him, Eolthain could tell that he was much younger than his secretary, with some early streaks of grey in his auburn hair. Nevertheless, there were not many young people seeking a role like this in Mercuria. Meanwhile, Mr. Randir saw a modest but neatly dressed young man. Eolthain’s gown was well made but lacked intricacies or any kind of flair. His hair was neatly brushed and tied back, but it was not braided.

“Your desk is over here,” Eolthain resumed, pointing to the corner near the door “I already have some tasks laid out for you. The first thing I need is my itinerary for next week.” Both men took their seats and began working.

“I’m glad that you still managed to arrive, despite the party and stuff outside,” Eolthain continued.

“Well, I take work seriously.”

“I hope you can talk and work.”

“I think I can.”

“Then I guess ER was doing its job. So tell me, what brought you here?”

“Well, my brother and nephew both like to play Mercuria. With a job here, I can fund some of our hobbies on the weekends.”

“It’s funny how a game has become actual work for some of us.”

Mr. Randir smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit odd,” he began, “but then most of the classic MMORPGs back in the day had a lot of grind to them. At least here it feels like work that I want to do.” He ruffled through some documents. “I take it Cabinet meetings get priority?”

“Yes.”

“Right.” Mr. Randir paused. “So, why do you take your job seriously?”

Eolthain looked up and set down his quill. “I was a public policy major. Graduated a few years ago, but apparently, nobody cares about that major or even my degree. Had to spend a year delivering pizzas, and then self-driving cars and unmanned drones put an end to that. But I’d already played Mercuria a bit and saw the potential to put my education to work here. Since people trade real money for things in the game now, I can actually pay my bills by playing full-time as a Minister. It may be a virtual world, with a medieval setting,” he said as he tapped his wooden desk, “but most of the skills I learned in school still apply.” Eolthain then picked up his quill and began filling out forms again.

“Yeah, the stipend I get for this certainly helps, and it does feel like a normal job. I guess it’s not that surprising that CNN was talking about the end of the war this morning.”

“Oh, were they?”

“Yeah, like it was an actual war that had ended, the way they talked about it. I guess if the jobs feel pretty real to us, the wars would too, especially since dying in the game does have consequences.”

“This is another reason why I like Mercuria, to get away from that bullshit. There’s just something cringe-worthy about CNN discussing our war with the Smashers like that.”

“Well, I thought they had a lot of interesting stuff to say.”

Eolthain cocked his head. “Like what?”

Mr. Randir paused and thought for a moment. “Well, I think they have a point that this was pretty significant in gaming history. There were an estimated 2 million people involved in this war. That’s a pretty large scale.”

“That’s a good point.”

“A bunch of experts were also talking about how this could serve as a case study for geopolitics in the real world.”

“I guess, but how?”

Mr. Randir paused again. “I guess, I’m not sure.”

“Well, I think it could be,” Eolthain began.

“Oh?”

“Yes, but I doubt anyone that CNN gives airtime to would have a good take on it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s CNN.” Eolthain rolled his eyes and set down his quill once more. “They don’t even know that the Elven Union isn’t actually a bunch of elves. There are only human characters in this game. We just call ourselves elves. Everyone who actually plays Mercuria knows that, but CNN doesn’t. If there’s anything to be learned from the war, CNN isn’t about to teach it.” Eolthain then sighed and resumed his work.

“One of the people had a good point about something, though.”

“What was that?” Eolthain asked, eyebrow raised.

“Usually in real life, democracies don’t fight each other. That’s, like, almost a given in history. In Mercuria, the Union actively attacked the other major, democratic nations, like the Smash Republic. We’re the only one left, but we haven’t fought any of the nations that have chosen to stick to the medieval style and use monarchy as their system.”

“This is why the news outlets won’t have anything useful to say. It’s really not that weird that the Elven Union attacked democratic nations in Mercuria, ’cause we’re not a democracy.”

Mr. Randir grew silent and gave Eolthain a grim stare. He seemed a child who had just learned the truth about Santa Claus. “What do you mean we aren’t a democracy?” he asked.

Eolthain did not answer right away. “You’ve finished my itinerary, haven’t you?” he delayed.

“Yes, sir.”

“While in conversation, too. Very efficient. Again, I can see ER was doing its job. I get the feeling you think the files on that shelf could be better arranged, though?”

“Yes.”

“Right. You can see it’s a mess. I’ve been working on memorized piles, and you’ve been glancing at them this whole time. Go ahead and set up a new system for those documents.”

Mr. Randir rose and moved to the shelves, which had, indeed, fallen into disorder in the weeks Eolthain had spent without a secretary. The question still loomed in the air. As he worked, Mr. Randir peeked over his shoulder at Eolthain.

“So your attention’s on me now,” Eolthain said with a smile. “You really think the Elven Union is a democracy?”

“There’s an election in a week. Why have that, if we aren’t a democracy?”

“Yes, we do have elections. Which party are you voting for?” Again, this was a delay.

“The Eldar Party.”

“I would have guessed. You wore your elven ears to work, or are those surgical?”

“Yep, I had the procedure.” Mr. Randir ran a finger along the crest of his ear.

“Funny how despite being mostly in the Middle Ages, some Mercurians have worked on things like that. The Eldar Party likes their tradition, after all. They like their uniformity and roleplay. They’re the faction that wants me to establish programs to teach Sindarin and Quenya. Perhaps you were hoping you could nudge me in the right direction by working here.”

“It’d be a nice bonus.”

“So why the Eldar, Mr. Randir?”

“I think you already figured it out, sir.”

“Yes, but why not the Fëanorean Party? Sure, they’re more focused on industry, but they like tradition too. How about Lothlórien? They’re a bit kooky, but they like to dress up too, and their trade deals got us access to silk. Those proper, elven robes can’t be made from flax, you know.”

“I think I’ve decided on Eldar for this election, sir.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to get you to change sides,” Eolthain interjected. “But doesn’t it seem off that we only have three political parties, and all of them are conservative?”

Mr. Randir fumbled his face but could think of nothing to say.

“Doesn’t it also seem off that our Chief of State isn’t a member of any of them? I think he’s always officially been an independent, but he’s pretty conservative too.”

“What are you saying?”

Once again, Eolthain holstered his quill. Mr. Randir could work and talk, he thought, but he was a stiff conversation. This next bit probably wasn’t going to feel any more casual. “I’m saying this isn’t an accident. The parliament doesn’t actually govern. It’s entirely beholden to the executive, which includes you and me. I’m a Minister, and you’re a Minister’s secretary. Your job has more clout than you probably thought it did.”

Mr. Randir turned away from the shelves and thought about everything that was said. Finally, he asked, “So if we aren’t a democracy, what are we?”

“A dictatorship, Mr. Randir.”

“So who’s the dictator?”

“Our boss, Arronder Noldor, Chief of State and head of the executive. He’s going to be here tomorrow, to meet us for the first time. We’d better make sure we get plenty of work done.” Eolthain picked up his quill and continued writing.

“So, umm…” Mr. Randir muttered.

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about working for a dictator that…that invaded and destroyed the democratic nations around us?”

“You know, I’m a pretty liberal guy myself, but I’m strangely okay with it.”

Mr. Randir asked no more questions and said nothing further. While Eolthain wished to chat some more as he worked, he figured that Mr. Randir needed some silence to process everything.

The day continued with little more conversation. As it got late, Eolthain could see that much progress had been made. The office was neater. Many key appointments were booked. Even better, his plans for the Ministry of Lore and Wisdom were finalized and ready to his satisfaction, for Noldor to see the next day. Having accomplished that, he dismissed Mr. Randir and told him to arrive early the next day, so that they could meet the Chief without issue.

After Mr. Randir left, Eolthain grabbed his coat and stepped out, locking the door behind him. He hailed a cab, which briskly brought him to his flat, occupied mostly by members of the government and partisan insiders. The overall building was the first example of what might be considered elven architecture, with an ornate, curved structure that seemed to blend into the garden around it. Its development had been supported by the loot and labor procured from Noldor’s first war, against the Spicy Federation.

The same went for many of the buildings in that neighborhood, appearing as if from the set of a film, drawing heavily from the soft lines and natural themes in the wood and stone of the paths and edifices. Most of the city, however, retained a general, medieval appearance.

After dismounting the carriage and paying the driver, Eolthain entered his flat. The interior was much like the exterior, thorough and in character. Elegant, slender trees (or carvings in the walls to replicate them) appeared to make up the beams of the structure. The walls seemed to be covered in a smooth bark, painted a delicate green. The furniture was all handmade, with curious, spiraling designs whittled into it.

Eolthain ignored most of this scenery — by now the norm for him — and proceeded to his bed, where he laid down, opened his menu, and logged out. In an instant, his eyes were open, and he was back in his real apartment, wearing his VR helmet. Unlike in Mercuria, this was nothing fancy. The wallpaper was old and peeled. Aside from a bed and a futon, it was nearly empty.

He rolled out of bed and, with just a white tee and black jeans, headed outside. He needed to eat something, and he had not had a good burger in a while. Unfortunately, nobody makes burgers in Mercuria, and eating them there would not feed a person for real. VR could only imitate life so much.

He walked along the road, trying to make his way into town. He knew he also needed to move around and could not simply drive. Mercuria could not come at the expense of his physical health, after all. Eolthain hoped he could still rent somewhere closer, after saving up enough, if only to make a stroll less time-consuming.

The road he took went up a hill, one that Eolthain knew well. As he reached the top, the view revealed the Potomac River and, on the other side, Washington. Gazing at the city, he puzzled, how did it never find use in him and his education, when the capital of the Elven Union did? If he got an offer from someone over there, would he even take it now?

He arrived at his usual burger place. Looking around, he noticed it had been renovated substantially. Perhaps he was spending too much time in the game. He sat at a table and ordered the Flaming Devil Burger.

He fiddled with his ear, feeling the cartilage, and wondered if he should wear his elven ears for Noldor’s visit tomorrow.