Nothing.

  There was nothing inside.

  "Wait... nothing?" Ross said.

  "Nothing. No second stage. No bigger story. Cause that's what life as you know it is. No purpose. No higher meaning. No one made the world we live in, there is no grand story. No greater utopia on the horizon for humanity. We play our games, we dance to the tune of the universe, but there's no meaning to be found in it. Your existence is nothing but the predictable result of the chemical composition that you call your brain responding to a given circumstance. Wake up. Eat. Work. Drink. Sleep. Repeat. There can be no meaning beyond what we want, nothing but what we make of what is. No limits but those we impose on ourselves and those imposed on us by that which is around us."

  "The journey I'm about to take you on is about one thing: purpose. What is your purpose? Why do you exist? The answer most people give is all too obvious, and it's pathetic. They play their games and chase phantoms, and it's only the few that actually catch them who realise that there's nothing there but emptiness. Movie stars suicide, business moguls implode when they finally see there's nothing for them in money. I was raised Catholic, and I ain't no saint. But one thing stuck with me, from the Bible of all friggin' places: "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity." That preacher was right, there's nothing new under the sun. No point to it. The wheel just keeps on turning, and most people die before they realise just how pointless it all is. And so it's the question that drives us: why do you exist? Far as I'm concerned, there's not a human being alive capable of answering that question."

  "So what the hell are we doing here?" Ross asked.

  Winsford smiled at that, as though it was the exact question he wanted us to ask. I guess it was.

  "Centuries ago, there was a great sovereign — the Maharaja of Sikri. He was rich beyond measure, had everything he wanted: palaces, women, slaves, armies. But among all his achievements, none could rival his city. The city, of course, he named Sikri – after himself. Its very entry was a palace. It was his custom to take the queen of each province he conquered as a wife, and for each wife he built another palace within the Sikri. He spent thousands upon thousands of lives to build the most extravagant and exquisite structures. He spent the lives of ten thousand men just to carve a tunnel through a mountain that funneled cool air to his bedroom chamber. His servants carried him upon a throne to his bed each night, which sat in a lake of rosewater and lilies. It was scented daily and fed through a complex network of water-ways buried deep within the mountain. He built an arena for daily contests between his slaves, and all who displeased him were crushed beneath the feet of his great white elephant. To this day, they say, there is an indent on the stone platform from all the times that elephant slammed its foot down on the heads of men."

  "Why? Why such extravagance? Why such little regard for the lives of his subjects? Why? I'll tell you why: he did it because he could do it. He did it because he craved more, he was compelled to push the boundaries of what was possible. Now he had the right idea, just not the technology to execute the vision. His body wasted away, and he went the way of all men in the end. Today, we have no such excuse. Technology can now take us to the very horizons of the possible, and it is my hope that we will push beyond them. That is why we are here."

  "Now even here we have limits. We are like gods, but – pushing the metaphor a bit further – we must not settle with anything less than the throne of God. Our constructs fade, they may be broken, the possible is limited by the boundaries of our minds. We cannot think beyond our experiences, our ideas, our creativity, our ingenuity, and in this way the possible in this place is – in a sense – no greater than the possible in the real world. But beyond those boundaries there is more. When it all comes down, the reason you are here is simple. There is only one real goal, only one thing that's really worth going after. If what we have is worthless, then we have to get beyond it. I'm talking about transcendence. That is why you are here, that is what I want us to achieve."

  We looked around at one another. Surprise. Intrigue. Excitement. Trepidation. Puzzlement.

  As usual, Ross spoke up first "Sooo... when you say transcendence, what you mean is... insert statement that actually means something here?"

  "What I mean is this. First, we need to see our limits. With perfect clarity. All the things that hold us back – our boundaries if you will – and, quite simply, we need to remove those boundaries. The expansion of the self is the final frontier. But let's open this up in a way that actually means something. Chen, what is the single greatest limitation we have in this place?" Chen didn't hesitate.

  "Imagination. What's possible here is limited by the imagination of the caster. The ideas we bring, the perspectives we have, the capacity to re-create from what we know, what's possible here can go no further than our imagination."

  "Ok. Next. Simon?" Simon apparently was the guy who Ross had been working with in Winsford's last contest. What his area of expertise was I could only guess.

  "You said it yourself—there are three limitations here: imagination, focus, and memory. Chen just tackled imagination. That leaves focus and memory. Focus is conditioning. You want to get better? Put your mind under pressure and keep it sharp under strain. Memory's simpler. It's just technique and reps. Train the method, build the structure, and you can hold more than most people dream of. But let's be clear. This isn't transcendence. It's refinement. Same tools, sharper edge."

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Good point. So what else can we do? Commander Everett, what do you think?"

  The grizzled army man guy paused thoughtfully for a moment. "I agree with what's been said so far. Clearly this place is all about your mental faculties. You want to improve, you train your ass off. There's no easy way around it. As to transcending what's possible? The answer is obvious. You need input, you need a way to download experiences and abilities into your consciousness without having to learn them. I don't even know if that's possible, but that seems like an obvious first step to me."

  "Another good point. Anyone else?"

  My turn to speak up.

  "It's the meat. That's the problem. Whatever we do here, however good we might become, we always have to get back to reality, we're always anchored in a realm of limitations. If we could find a way to beat that problem, that would be a real step in the direction of transcendence. Our bodies die, that's why we're mortal. Beat that, and all of a sudden you've got everything you need to beat any other problem possible: time. Course, it's a ridiculous idea, almost certainly impossible, but you did ask."

  As I finished speaking, I noticed Winsford nodding and smiling, but there was something about it, a gleam in his eye. It was... creepy.

  "Another one is consciousness." It was Sophie the psychologist who piped up this time. "It's a basic fact of our biology – we have only one point of consciousness. We can't truly divide our attention, we can't be in more than one place at once. If we could beat that limitation – if that were possible – we would have true transcendence on a whole new level."

  "This is good. This is where we start, this is what you're here for: I want you to beat these limitations, and I believe you can do it."

  We each looked around at the others. Aside from the other two game-casters, I still had no real idea why the others were here. Hell, I had no real idea why we were here. Experience I guess.

  "Each of you has something unique to offer. Our first task will be to start sharing what we bring to the table with each other. Stay in here if you want, do some more experimenting. Have some fun. We'll get started first thing in the morning. Class dismissed."

  ......................

  I woke up out of the sim, looking at the ultra-v of the head-chamber. I pulled myself up and detached the chips from my head, rubbing my eyes. I felt really tired.

  "It always drains you more than you think" I looked over to see Winsford sitting up too. "Operating at high speed in a purely mental realm takes it out of you. It's like trying to listen to a lecture non-stop for six hours." In spite of this, he himself didn't look tired at all. Guess he'd had plenty of practice already. Chen was the only other one to emerge, as she sat up rubbing her temples. The rest of them had decided to stay under.

  "Is any of this actually possible?" I blurted. "I mean, can we really do some of the stuff we're talking about? It sounds crazy."

  "I honestly don't know," Winsford said. "But this is what I do know: we have to try. Don't think about what's possible. There have always been explorers. It started with regions. It moved to continents. The poles. Space. Us? We're taking this to a whole new level. We're charting a course into the new frontier, and it's a brave new world out there. Get a good night's rest, let's see what tomorrow brings." With that, he got up and headed for the exit. Chen and me looked at each other.

  "So what do you think?" I asked.

  "Me? Umm... I don't know. Improving what we can do in there is definitely possible but – transcendence or whatever? I don't know."

  "What about all his 're-inventing' humanity stuff. What do you think about that?"

  "For me, it's like – I don't know... there are always limitations. That's the way we've been wired, the way things are. Split consciousness? Detaching from our bodies? Sounds like a plot for a bad sci-fi horror flick if you ask me. I don't know, I guess somehow it just feels... wrong. I don't know if it's possible, I mean, I guess we'll find out if Winsford has anything more in mind than just messing around in a sim. You?"

  "I don't know man. I'm just a game-caster. But I do know that I can't just walk away from this. Whatever else goes down, this tech is gonna change the world. I think Winsford is trying to push that change in the direction he wants it to go. Whether or not that happens, we'll see. I do think there's more going on here than what he's letting on. What that is, I don't know. Wanna grab a bagel?"

  "Yeah, sure. Let's do it."

  As we walked out of the lab (at least, I guess it was a lab?), you couldn't help but notice how nice this place was. As in, free food hall on the glass-walled 83rd floor nice. I loved my work as a game-caster, but this... this I could get used to.

  "So who are you working with now? Spantec? Intellacor?"

  "Actually, neither of them at the moment, working with some new guys, New World Inc."

  "New player in the field huh? They must have offered something pretty sweet to lure you away from the mainstream."

  "You could say that. Truth is, I was getting tired of running the circuit. It's all about money in this business. They don't really care about the customer, it's all about creating and marketing something that sells – and it doesn't matter what that is, as long as there's money in it."

  "Weellll... isn't that a good thing? Besides, buyers can make up their own minds. If they want to digi-live the ultimate psycho killing-spree, or play gang wars in a virtual New York, what's that to anyone else? It's not like it's real anyway. Way I see it, it's not my job to decide what other people think is ok."

  "Maybe. But you're still making that stuff, you're still spending hours of your own time saturating your head in it. And we're the ones pumping it out into the world aren't we? Maybe someone else will do it if we don't, but at least it's on them that way. Besides, I was tired of the pressure, the long hours, tired of being forced to play the game by rules I didn't like."

  "Well, whatever floats your boat Chen."

  "Okay, okay! Far be it from me to judge! It's just that, for me at least, watching disabled kids experience new worlds through gaming, developing new ways of treating psychological disorders, that's the kind of thing I want to be involved in, something that leaves this world a better place than when we got here. Gaming can be so much more than self-indulgence, and that's a part of the industry I'm interested in being involved with."

  "Well, tops on you for pursuing what matters to you. It'll be a big pay-cut – not that that really matters anymore with what Winsford's paying us. One smashed av and a five-salts bagel thanks."

  We grabbed our food before heading over to some seats with a view.

  "Sooo..." Chen began as we sat down, "what do you really think about this whole thing? I mean – honestly. Do you like what he's trying to do? Is it whack? Is it good for a paycheck? What?"

  "Honestly? I don't know. I don't know if half the stuff that Winsford's talking about is even possible. Mental expansion? Digital transcendence? Like you said, sounds kinda' crazy. But who knows? Maybe he's right. Maybe he can do this stuff. If he can manage even half of it, he'll go down in history, probably already has. And the way I see it, there's no way this tech isn't completely changing the world. Whatever else might happen, there's no way I'm missing out on the chance to be in on this. What about you?"

  "Me? I'll believe it when I see it. This tech is amazing – no doubt about that, but who knows what it's actually capable of? One thing I do know – I don't like Winsford. Something 'bout that man ain't right.