Serpents in Eden

Every civilization needs a dragon to gnaw at its roots. That was where I came in. I have gone by many names, but on the Eden app, I was known as Serpent. I lurked through the pages of the website, searching for my next victim when I saw a new user online. Her name was Eve.

Serpent: “Hello, Eve. I am collecting survey responses about the media. Are you interested in answering some questions?”

A day went by and she did not answer me. I was ready to move on. After all, a fisherman can’t expect to catch every fish in the lake. I continued scrolling, resigned to find another user to deliver my pitch to. Then, I got the notification.

Eve: “Hey I can answer some questions if I’m not too late.”

Serpent: “No, you’re just in time!”

Serpent: “These questions are to gauge public faith in the media. Would you still like to answer them?”

Eve: “Sure.”

I started asking some questions about herself. Eve is in her early twenties and an accountant. She is married to a union worker: Adam.

Serpent: “Do you believe the news is always truthful?”

Eve: “No.”

Serpent: “What is your main source of news?”

Eve: “The internet.”

Serpent: “Do you use specific websites or memes?”

Eve: “A combination of memes and CNN.”

Serpent: “Have you ever heard of the app, Tree of Knowledge?”

Eve: “I have not.”

I smiled.

Serpent: “It’s a new, independent media app that allows users to share their own news and their own reactions to the news. No interference from the big guys.”

Eve: “I guess this is the part where you ask me to download the app.”

Serpent: “I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m just telling you not to knock it until you try it.”

The pitch was sealed. All I had to do now was wait.

—

When I opened the app, it showed a graphic of a tree. At the top of the screen was the name of the app: “Tree of Knowledge.” At the bottom of the screen were the cryptic words, “An unfettered view into good and evil.” I clicked “Create Account.” I went through the basic process of building my profile. Email. Password. Username. It was that simple, and then I was in a whole new landscape.

I tend to doomscroll, but every doomscroll starts in what I call the “green pastures.” The first post, or Apple as it is called, that I saw on Tree of Knowledge didn’t fit the news Serpent had promised. It was a picture of a golden retriever. The first few posts were also of pets and animals until soon a sprinkling of memes came in. I chuckled at a Ratatouille meme and continued to scroll. The light-hearted memes gave way to memes with a slight political leaning. They were criticizing taxes and going after welfare fraud. I continued to scroll. That was when I found the promised “news.”

There was an AI-generated picture of an alien in an Egyptian headdress in front of the Great Pyramid. The Apple asked if humans had truly built the pyramids. I read the comments. They all said the aliens did it. “Modern cranes can’t lift the limestone blocks from the pyramids,” one comment read, “How do you think the Egyptians did it?” I continued to scroll.

An image of what looked like a human-fish hybrid skeleton popped up, accompanied by a picture of a mermaid. The caption read, “Mermaid bones recently discovered in China.” Another similar post showed tiles under the ocean, “Archaeology proves Atlantis is real.”

I had doomscrolled like this for hours. The conspiracies continued, including stuff about the recent elections, specific politicians or celebrities, and even a speculated war that was supposed to happen soon. I closed the app, exhausted.

Adam brought Chinese food home after work that night. We ate in silence, and any attempt I made to break it was met with quick ends to our conversation. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“I’m getting laid off for the winter.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Work is drying up,” he said.

“Can’t you find another job?” I asked.

“It’s not that easy,” he said.

“But-” I said.

“It’s just for one season,” he said, “We’ll have to cut back on some stuff, but we’ll be fine.”

“How will we afford Christmas?”

“You’re getting the bonus, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll have to make do. Plus, maybe they’ll find something for me to do.”

“You should go to the union.”

“The foreman doesn’t wanna involve them.”

“Who cares what the foreman wants! This is our life.”

“I’m done talking about this, Eve.”

I frowned and stared at my plate. He went back to eating as if nothing had been said. The silence, however, was deafening.

“I downloaded Tree of Knowledge,” I said to break the silence.

“Isn’t that the conspiracy app?” Adam asked.

“There’s some conspiracies,” I said, “But it’s mostly dogs and cats.”

“So it’s like any other app,” he said.

“Yeah. I guess you can say that.”

He pulled out his phone. “Tree of Knowledge, right?”

“Yeah.”

—

Months had passed and I had to get a barista job on the side to support myself and Adam. He had become depressed. Whenever I came home from work, that night’s dinner in hand, I found Adam sitting in front of the TV, remote in one hand and phone in the other. He always had YouTube on, but quickly switched it off when I walked through the door. Sometimes I heard what was being said on the TV. Stuff about chemtrails, people kidnapping children, and America losing its way.

“Can I borrow your phone?” he asked me one day over dinner.

“Why?” I asked.

“I got banned on Eden,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“I got into another argument and they reported me,” he said.

“You know you shouldn’t be fighting with people online.”

“They need to know the truth.”

“Your truth isn’t always the truth.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“That’s what the deep state wants you to believe.”

“The deep state?”

“The cabal of-”

“I know what the deep state is, Adam. You’ve been acting silly since you got laid off.”

“So can I borrow your phone?”

“No, Adam.”

Two days later, I opened Eden at work and found I was logged out of my account. I put in my credentials and the following message popped up:

“Sorry, your account has been permanently banned from Eden for the following reason(s): Hate speech; spread of misinformation.”

I felt sick and ran to the bathroom. I sat there for a few minutes, trying to piece out what I could have said or done that was hate speech. Even after I left the bathroom and returned to work, the message and my anxiety boiled inside of me for the rest of my shift. I got home with no dinner this time. Adam sat in front of the TV, closing out of whatever deranged video he had up. His phone was in his hand, scrolling through Tree of Knowledge.

“Did you get me banned from Eden?” I asked, coolly.

“What?” Adam asked.

“Don’t play stupid,” I said, “I’m going to ask one more time and you are going to tell me the truth. Did you get me banned from Eden?”

“Yes,” he said.

“How did you know my password?”

“You use the same password for just about everything.”

“So you think it is right to go on there and get me banned? I had friends on there, Adam. Friends that were only on there. They’re gone now!”

“I was telling the truth.”

“You were telling lies.”

“You’re being hysterical.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m being! Delete the app.”

“What?”

“Delete Tree of Knowledge.”

“No.”

“Delete it.”

“You were the first one to download it. You brought me onto the app,” Adam said, rising from his chair.

“And you’re treating the lies on there like it’s the truth,” I said

“Ultimately, it is your fault that I have seen the light outside the cave,” he said, his arms crossed.

“How have you become so cold?” I asked, tears forming in my eyes.

“I want what is best for our country,” he said.

“And what about what is best for our marriage?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean you need to delete the app right now,” I said.

“It’s too important to me.”

“More important than our marriage?”

He remained silent. Yet, his silence spoke louder than any words he could say. I walked away from him. I went to the bedroom, closed the door, and locked it. There, I collapsed to the floor and I cried. Behind me, Adam banged on the door and screamed my name. I ignored him.

—

I hit the jackpot with my job. All I have to do is bring users into the Tree of Knowledge and for each person I bring in, I earn a small bonus on top of hourly wages. Facebook, Reddit, Instagram, TikTok, and even Eden all serve as my hunting grounds for potential new users. On those apps, I go by different names: Light_Bringer, Adversary, Old_Scratch, Sam Scratch, Serpent, and most recently, Viper. I look for users who are gullible, or want to try new apps. I especially go for users who can bring in other people. Charismatic people. People from communities. Husbands. Wives.

In Tree of Knowledge, they will get lost in the sea of conspiracies and misinformation: the moneymakers. The stuff that keeps users coming back either because they believe in it so much that it provides them comfort in a confusing world, or because it angers them and they are driven to fight the lies. Either way, I still make my money.

I go back to one of my favorite hunting grounds, a messaging app called Eden. It has lists of users that one can DM to form penpal friendships. It has brought me a lot of success. A few months ago, I pulled a user named Eve from here. She brought her husband. He brought a few of his coworkers. They had recently been laid off. They were confused and angry. Tree of Knowledge welcomed them. Eden eventually deleted the app, but Adam and his coworkers are still active users. Alas, I continue my search until I find another promising target. Her name? Pandora.