The Tower - Novel in Progress - Chapter 2 by phoenixwaller
Contains profanity, violence
Content Advisory!
This artwork contains mature content: profanity, violence.
Close
Hover over top left image to zoom.
Click anywhere to exit.
Members remain the original copyright holder in all their materials here at Renderosity. Use of any of their material inconsistent with the terms and conditions set forth is prohibited and is considered an infringement of the copyrights of the respective holders unless specially stated otherwise.
Description
Start | Last Chapter
“You can’t do this!” Liam exclaimed, pacing the hospital room. “You know most people dream of this,” Sheryl countered. “And you never seemed to be one of them!” Sheryl sighed. Liam was right, and she didn’t have an argument. She might have had the passing fantasy, but being on The Tower hadn’t been a lifelong dream as it was for so many others. Liam stopped pacing and stared at her. “Please Sher, don’t do it. There’s an opt-out number for a reason. People die on that show! It’s not some false threat!” “Don’t you think I know that?” she spat. “I considered it, I really did. But I don’t have the luxury of choice.” “It’s suicide!” “It’s a possible escape! The only possible escape!” “There are other ways to get your life back! You can pay off the hospital debt.” “How?” Sheryl begged. “Give me an option, please! The house is gone, we didn’t have much equity in it, but that doesn’t matter now anyway. Do I even have a job anymore?” Liam sighed. “You know the answer. There are too many people out of work to leave it open for more than a couple weeks. Even if I could find another job quickly, it wouldn’t be at the same pay. I’d been there a long time, and had worked through raises. Heck, they were probably happy to fill my position because then they could scale back to new employee pay!” “Sheryl, you have a degree, two… You’re well educated! And I’m sure your former bosses would be willing to write recommendation letters given the circumstances.” “Half the people who are unemployed are well educated! I bet a fair number have good references too. Get a degree and you’re automatically overqualified for so many jobs, and the ones that you are qualified for are highly competitive. Don’t you remember how hard I worked to get that job, how many applications I filled out when we were roommates? It took a year and a half as an unpaid intern, and another half year of almost daily followups just to get in.” Liam nodded and sighed. “I wish I could have gone into therapy like you, it’s not as bad. But I know I don’t have the aptitude for it. So many fields just have too many people and not enough positions.” “Come stay with Chad and I then,” Liam begged. “Our place isn’t big, but we have a spare room. You’ll at least be able to look for work and have a roof other than a shelter.” “I can’t put you out like that! You’ve been trying to adopt for years, and you have to have that room for it to be approved. If I’m in there when your name comes up you’ll be kicked to the back of the line without question!” Liam pulled a chair around and sat down. He put his hands to either side of his head and clawed at his scalp. “It’s so stupid! There are houses full of children because people have nothing better to do than have sex, and they’re not required to have a space allotment for each child. But we can’t even help a friend without worrying about not having a designated room for a child that would still likely take another year for paperwork to process.” “I can’t kill that chance Liam,” Sheryl said softly. “You’ve been on the list so long, and you were so excited when you were informed that your review would be within the year.” Liam made a noise of frustration. “There has to be a way Sher. There has to be something we can do.” “I’m all ears.” Liam made another frustrated noise. “Look, we’ve got almost two full days,” Sheryl said with a sigh. “If we come up with a real, viable option I’ll make the call. But we have to be realistic. I’ve probably got a couple months of rehabilitation. I can look for a job during that time, but, even if I do luck out and find something, nobody will bring me on until I can be counted on to handle a flex schedule. No company offers guaranteed hours to a new hire. In the end I’ll only be falling further into debt.” Liam stood and resumed pacing. “You just woke up, it’s not even been a full twenty-four hours since the doctors cleared you for visitors. How can they expect you to make this decision so soon?” Sheryl clenched her fists. “Don’t you think I know that? The whole thing stinks! But I don’t have the luxury of time.” Liam looked about to say something when there was a knock on the doorframe. Both he and Sheryl turned to see a nurse standing in the entry. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are nearly over,” he said politely. Sheryl nodded. “Thank you.” The man left, and Liam gave her a plaintive look. “Please, make the call.” Sheryl shook her head. “I can’t, and you know it. Not until I have a better option in place.” They stared at each other. “Li?” “Yeah?” “Be on my team.” Liam stared. “What?” “Be on my support team.” “Why would I do that?” he yelled. “I don’t want you to go on that show at all! Why would I be on your support team?” Sheryl sighed. “Look, I’m still open to any other option we have. But you know as well as I do that the likelihood of one existing is slim.” Liam glared. “Please Li, I need you. You know as well as anybody that dirty psychological tricks are part of the game. You know me, you know my quirks. You did mock therapy sessions with me so many times in college that you know me just as well as Jonathan did.” Liam returned to the chair, his knees bouncing nervously. “I’m no good with puzzles, and I’d push you to get out rather than grab money vouchers or goods. I’m probably the last person you’d want on support.” “You’re good with me. I don’t intend to die Li. I have friends who are good with puzzles, and ones who can identify the most valuable items in a room at a glance. But I need somebody who can keep me focused.” A thick silence fell between them. “Please Li. I need you.” “Promise you’ll make the call if we come up with any option that prevents you from going on that show?” “Yes.” Liam nodded, hesitated, then spoke. “Ok. If we don’t have any other option then I’ll be on your support team.” Sheryl reached out, and Liam stood. He walked over, leaned over the hospital bed and hugged her. “I’ll make sure you get out alive.” “Thanks Li.” There was another knock at the door, and Liam’s face fell. “Bring Chad by tomorrow?” Sheryl asked. “I should visit with him before they take me to the island.” “Of course,” Liam nodded. “What else do you need?” “I want to see Jonathan and the kids.” Liam nodded again. “I don’t know if I can make it happen, but I’ll try to pull some strings. Is there a support number you can call?” “I don’t recall. I was too shocked to look for one.” “Take a look. This might be a place where the producers have a bit of influence.” Sheryl nodded, and Liam kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll bring Chad by as well. He’ll be happy to see you.” “Thanks.” “Anybody else?” “Janice… and Becky. I think I need them as the other two on my team. But I need to tell them face to face, not over an AR call.” “Ok.” “Otherwise, anybody else you can think of. There’s just no time, and I still can’t do anything more than call.” “Any idea when the doctors will restore full functionality to your implants?” Sheryl shook her head. “They say they’re limiting for now to check for any lasting complications. Then they want to do a flush to get rid of the restorative nanomachines to prevent any interference. For all I know it might be something the doctors on the island end up doing.” “If you go…” “If I go…” Sheryl agreed with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liam said, standing up and running his hand through his hair nervously. “I’ll be ok,” Sheryl said softly. “I’m not going to die there.” Liam cast her an uncertain smile, but nodded. “No, you’re strong. You’re a survivor. I’ll make sure you come home.” Sheryl smiled. “Go, before the nurses start badgering you. Besides, I bet your husband is waiting.” Liam smiled. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Sheryl waited until Liam was out of sight, then pulled the card free from the envelope again. She examined it carefully. It was royal purple on the outside, just like the envelope. The lettering on the front was ornate in gold-leaf, while the opt-out on the reverse was in a light grey block print. Inside the card was a cream colored insert, and the text retained an ornate feel, but was easier to read and in charcoal lettering. Nothing seemed to indicate a support line, until she pulled back the insert slightly. Printed on the reverse were numbers for questions, legal, financial assistance for primary earners, and, finally, pre-departure support. Sheryl hesitated. She knew calling the number pretty well signified her acceptance to be on the show. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry Liam, but I really don’t think we’ll find any other way.” She looked at the card again, and input the number into her voice communication panel. “Good evening Mrs. Callaghan. How may we help you prepare for your trip to Dreams Island?” a pleasant male voice sounded almost immediately. Sheryl blinked a couple times before responding, not expecting to be asked so bluntly. “I’d like to visit the graves of my family before departure. However I’m still in a wheelchair and not cleared to leave by the hospital.” “A memorial visit can be arranged. However, I must inform you that all pre-departure activities we assist with will be recorded and subject to broadcast as part of your run.” Sheryl swallowed thickly. “Can I request no audio and a respectful distance?” “You may, but it will incur an offset fee.” “Offset fee?” There was a moment of silence, then, “My apologies. It appears that your contestant manual was not delivered yet due to the inactive status on your implants. A physical copy was requested but won’t arrive at your location for another few hours as it is still in printing. Would you like me to explain what an offset fee is?” “Yes, please.” “All contestants are allocated a budget upon selection. Dormitory style lodging, class one meals, medical care, and basic training are all provided free of charge, however your budget will be used to offset costs of room upgrades, changes to your meal plan, specialty training, and other incidentals. Privacy is considered subject to offset as viewers like that insight into your life.” Sheryl briefly recalled the episodes of contestant profiles that she’d watched and how it had detailed their priorities leading up to their runs. Now she understood a bit more of how that was determined. “How large is my budget?” “Your current budget is half a million dollars.” Sheryl was glad she was already sitting. “Why so much?” “You’ll find that many contestants consider it not enough, and there are plenty of sponsorship opportunities to supplement your budget. Offset fees are calculated depending on potential loss of revenue. For instance, class one meals are all provided by advertisers who have paid for air time and mentions.” “Wow…” Sheryl breathed. “I’ve calculated the offset fee for a discreet distance of fifteen feet for video with no audio for a memorial visitation. Given the highly personal nature and projected viewer expectations… seventy-five thousand dollars.” Sheryl thought she would faint. “Seventy-five… thousand?” “Yes. Viewer habit surveys have concluded that audiences like seeing these elements in a contestant profile. However, we can reduce that to fifty-thousand if you agree to censored audio, in which you can ask that up to fifty-percent of audio be removed.” Sheryl was dumbstruck. Could she really use ten percent of a budget for privacy when she didn’t even know what other things would cost? “You said there are sponsorship opportunities?” “Yes, details will be provided upon your arrival.” “What if I decide to opt-out after this call?” “Your visit would be scheduled after your opt-out period has ended.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Ok. Let’s… do the one with censored audio.” There was a brief pause, then, “I’ve scheduled a memorial visitation for the day of your departure. Cameras will keep a discreet fifteen foot or greater distance, and you’ll be able to review and request removal of up to half the recorded audio. You will be charged an offset fee of fifty-thousand dollars, but can opt for less privacy at reduced cost until filming begins.” There was a pause. “There appears to be a sponsorship offer. A part of the offset fee will be waived for a product endorsement.” “I… what?” “If you choose to make a product endorsement during your audio a sponsoring company will pay a portion of your offset fee. If you wear approved items a smaller amount will be paid by those companies.” “How did they...?” “Product placement companies bid in real time for opportunities. Should I send details?” Sheryl thought for a moment. “I’ll look into the things I can wear, I won’t make an audio endorsement.” “I’ll send over sponsorship details for these offers. They should arrive with your contestant manual. Please let us know of any selections within twenty-four hours so we can have the appropriate items on hand.” “Ok.” “Do you have any questions?” “Not right now… thank you.” “Thank you for being a contestant.” The call ended, and Sheryl ran her hand over her hair. She’d always recognized that there was a lot of footage of contestants, but was just coming to terms with the fact that everything she did would be recorded until she made her way out of her tower, and probably after. She flopped back onto the pillows and started to cry. Her family and home were gone, and any sense of normalcy as well. She was a contestant. Live or die, her life would never be the same again.
“You can’t do this!” Liam exclaimed, pacing the hospital room. “You know most people dream of this,” Sheryl countered. “And you never seemed to be one of them!” Sheryl sighed. Liam was right, and she didn’t have an argument. She might have had the passing fantasy, but being on The Tower hadn’t been a lifelong dream as it was for so many others. Liam stopped pacing and stared at her. “Please Sher, don’t do it. There’s an opt-out number for a reason. People die on that show! It’s not some false threat!” “Don’t you think I know that?” she spat. “I considered it, I really did. But I don’t have the luxury of choice.” “It’s suicide!” “It’s a possible escape! The only possible escape!” “There are other ways to get your life back! You can pay off the hospital debt.” “How?” Sheryl begged. “Give me an option, please! The house is gone, we didn’t have much equity in it, but that doesn’t matter now anyway. Do I even have a job anymore?” Liam sighed. “You know the answer. There are too many people out of work to leave it open for more than a couple weeks. Even if I could find another job quickly, it wouldn’t be at the same pay. I’d been there a long time, and had worked through raises. Heck, they were probably happy to fill my position because then they could scale back to new employee pay!” “Sheryl, you have a degree, two… You’re well educated! And I’m sure your former bosses would be willing to write recommendation letters given the circumstances.” “Half the people who are unemployed are well educated! I bet a fair number have good references too. Get a degree and you’re automatically overqualified for so many jobs, and the ones that you are qualified for are highly competitive. Don’t you remember how hard I worked to get that job, how many applications I filled out when we were roommates? It took a year and a half as an unpaid intern, and another half year of almost daily followups just to get in.” Liam nodded and sighed. “I wish I could have gone into therapy like you, it’s not as bad. But I know I don’t have the aptitude for it. So many fields just have too many people and not enough positions.” “Come stay with Chad and I then,” Liam begged. “Our place isn’t big, but we have a spare room. You’ll at least be able to look for work and have a roof other than a shelter.” “I can’t put you out like that! You’ve been trying to adopt for years, and you have to have that room for it to be approved. If I’m in there when your name comes up you’ll be kicked to the back of the line without question!” Liam pulled a chair around and sat down. He put his hands to either side of his head and clawed at his scalp. “It’s so stupid! There are houses full of children because people have nothing better to do than have sex, and they’re not required to have a space allotment for each child. But we can’t even help a friend without worrying about not having a designated room for a child that would still likely take another year for paperwork to process.” “I can’t kill that chance Liam,” Sheryl said softly. “You’ve been on the list so long, and you were so excited when you were informed that your review would be within the year.” Liam made a noise of frustration. “There has to be a way Sher. There has to be something we can do.” “I’m all ears.” Liam made another frustrated noise. “Look, we’ve got almost two full days,” Sheryl said with a sigh. “If we come up with a real, viable option I’ll make the call. But we have to be realistic. I’ve probably got a couple months of rehabilitation. I can look for a job during that time, but, even if I do luck out and find something, nobody will bring me on until I can be counted on to handle a flex schedule. No company offers guaranteed hours to a new hire. In the end I’ll only be falling further into debt.” Liam stood and resumed pacing. “You just woke up, it’s not even been a full twenty-four hours since the doctors cleared you for visitors. How can they expect you to make this decision so soon?” Sheryl clenched her fists. “Don’t you think I know that? The whole thing stinks! But I don’t have the luxury of time.” Liam looked about to say something when there was a knock on the doorframe. Both he and Sheryl turned to see a nurse standing in the entry. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are nearly over,” he said politely. Sheryl nodded. “Thank you.” The man left, and Liam gave her a plaintive look. “Please, make the call.” Sheryl shook her head. “I can’t, and you know it. Not until I have a better option in place.” They stared at each other. “Li?” “Yeah?” “Be on my team.” Liam stared. “What?” “Be on my support team.” “Why would I do that?” he yelled. “I don’t want you to go on that show at all! Why would I be on your support team?” Sheryl sighed. “Look, I’m still open to any other option we have. But you know as well as I do that the likelihood of one existing is slim.” Liam glared. “Please Li, I need you. You know as well as anybody that dirty psychological tricks are part of the game. You know me, you know my quirks. You did mock therapy sessions with me so many times in college that you know me just as well as Jonathan did.” Liam returned to the chair, his knees bouncing nervously. “I’m no good with puzzles, and I’d push you to get out rather than grab money vouchers or goods. I’m probably the last person you’d want on support.” “You’re good with me. I don’t intend to die Li. I have friends who are good with puzzles, and ones who can identify the most valuable items in a room at a glance. But I need somebody who can keep me focused.” A thick silence fell between them. “Please Li. I need you.” “Promise you’ll make the call if we come up with any option that prevents you from going on that show?” “Yes.” Liam nodded, hesitated, then spoke. “Ok. If we don’t have any other option then I’ll be on your support team.” Sheryl reached out, and Liam stood. He walked over, leaned over the hospital bed and hugged her. “I’ll make sure you get out alive.” “Thanks Li.” There was another knock at the door, and Liam’s face fell. “Bring Chad by tomorrow?” Sheryl asked. “I should visit with him before they take me to the island.” “Of course,” Liam nodded. “What else do you need?” “I want to see Jonathan and the kids.” Liam nodded again. “I don’t know if I can make it happen, but I’ll try to pull some strings. Is there a support number you can call?” “I don’t recall. I was too shocked to look for one.” “Take a look. This might be a place where the producers have a bit of influence.” Sheryl nodded, and Liam kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll bring Chad by as well. He’ll be happy to see you.” “Thanks.” “Anybody else?” “Janice… and Becky. I think I need them as the other two on my team. But I need to tell them face to face, not over an AR call.” “Ok.” “Otherwise, anybody else you can think of. There’s just no time, and I still can’t do anything more than call.” “Any idea when the doctors will restore full functionality to your implants?” Sheryl shook her head. “They say they’re limiting for now to check for any lasting complications. Then they want to do a flush to get rid of the restorative nanomachines to prevent any interference. For all I know it might be something the doctors on the island end up doing.” “If you go…” “If I go…” Sheryl agreed with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liam said, standing up and running his hand through his hair nervously. “I’ll be ok,” Sheryl said softly. “I’m not going to die there.” Liam cast her an uncertain smile, but nodded. “No, you’re strong. You’re a survivor. I’ll make sure you come home.” Sheryl smiled. “Go, before the nurses start badgering you. Besides, I bet your husband is waiting.” Liam smiled. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Sheryl waited until Liam was out of sight, then pulled the card free from the envelope again. She examined it carefully. It was royal purple on the outside, just like the envelope. The lettering on the front was ornate in gold-leaf, while the opt-out on the reverse was in a light grey block print. Inside the card was a cream colored insert, and the text retained an ornate feel, but was easier to read and in charcoal lettering. Nothing seemed to indicate a support line, until she pulled back the insert slightly. Printed on the reverse were numbers for questions, legal, financial assistance for primary earners, and, finally, pre-departure support. Sheryl hesitated. She knew calling the number pretty well signified her acceptance to be on the show. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry Liam, but I really don’t think we’ll find any other way.” She looked at the card again, and input the number into her voice communication panel. “Good evening Mrs. Callaghan. How may we help you prepare for your trip to Dreams Island?” a pleasant male voice sounded almost immediately. Sheryl blinked a couple times before responding, not expecting to be asked so bluntly. “I’d like to visit the graves of my family before departure. However I’m still in a wheelchair and not cleared to leave by the hospital.” “A memorial visit can be arranged. However, I must inform you that all pre-departure activities we assist with will be recorded and subject to broadcast as part of your run.” Sheryl swallowed thickly. “Can I request no audio and a respectful distance?” “You may, but it will incur an offset fee.” “Offset fee?” There was a moment of silence, then, “My apologies. It appears that your contestant manual was not delivered yet due to the inactive status on your implants. A physical copy was requested but won’t arrive at your location for another few hours as it is still in printing. Would you like me to explain what an offset fee is?” “Yes, please.” “All contestants are allocated a budget upon selection. Dormitory style lodging, class one meals, medical care, and basic training are all provided free of charge, however your budget will be used to offset costs of room upgrades, changes to your meal plan, specialty training, and other incidentals. Privacy is considered subject to offset as viewers like that insight into your life.” Sheryl briefly recalled the episodes of contestant profiles that she’d watched and how it had detailed their priorities leading up to their runs. Now she understood a bit more of how that was determined. “How large is my budget?” “Your current budget is half a million dollars.” Sheryl was glad she was already sitting. “Why so much?” “You’ll find that many contestants consider it not enough, and there are plenty of sponsorship opportunities to supplement your budget. Offset fees are calculated depending on potential loss of revenue. For instance, class one meals are all provided by advertisers who have paid for air time and mentions.” “Wow…” Sheryl breathed. “I’ve calculated the offset fee for a discreet distance of fifteen feet for video with no audio for a memorial visitation. Given the highly personal nature and projected viewer expectations… seventy-five thousand dollars.” Sheryl thought she would faint. “Seventy-five… thousand?” “Yes. Viewer habit surveys have concluded that audiences like seeing these elements in a contestant profile. However, we can reduce that to fifty-thousand if you agree to censored audio, in which you can ask that up to fifty-percent of audio be removed.” Sheryl was dumbstruck. Could she really use ten percent of a budget for privacy when she didn’t even know what other things would cost? “You said there are sponsorship opportunities?” “Yes, details will be provided upon your arrival.” “What if I decide to opt-out after this call?” “Your visit would be scheduled after your opt-out period has ended.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Ok. Let’s… do the one with censored audio.” There was a brief pause, then, “I’ve scheduled a memorial visitation for the day of your departure. Cameras will keep a discreet fifteen foot or greater distance, and you’ll be able to review and request removal of up to half the recorded audio. You will be charged an offset fee of fifty-thousand dollars, but can opt for less privacy at reduced cost until filming begins.” There was a pause. “There appears to be a sponsorship offer. A part of the offset fee will be waived for a product endorsement.” “I… what?” “If you choose to make a product endorsement during your audio a sponsoring company will pay a portion of your offset fee. If you wear approved items a smaller amount will be paid by those companies.” “How did they...?” “Product placement companies bid in real time for opportunities. Should I send details?” Sheryl thought for a moment. “I’ll look into the things I can wear, I won’t make an audio endorsement.” “I’ll send over sponsorship details for these offers. They should arrive with your contestant manual. Please let us know of any selections within twenty-four hours so we can have the appropriate items on hand.” “Ok.” “Do you have any questions?” “Not right now… thank you.” “Thank you for being a contestant.” The call ended, and Sheryl ran her hand over her hair. She’d always recognized that there was a lot of footage of contestants, but was just coming to terms with the fact that everything she did would be recorded until she made her way out of her tower, and probably after. She flopped back onto the pillows and started to cry. Her family and home were gone, and any sense of normalcy as well. She was a contestant. Live or die, her life would never be the same again.
Comments (2)
Wolfenshire
Intense! I like the flow, well done.
ontar1
Fantastic cover and story!