Feb 2018 v01 online

power. This client was one of several powerful
insiders who traded in access to such resources,
upping the accuracy for the company and
decreasing the price for themselves. Despite
himself, Daniel felt a twinge of compassion as
he looked into the girl’s future. Thirteen years
after having been floored by the sudden
inaccessibility to healthcare, thirteen years lost
to trying to get by, the girl died in her bed in
her mid-thirties of kidney failure; an ailment
that, today, would’ve been shaken with $7
diuretics.
scroll past, leapt forward in his chair and moved
the data to secondary screens for him to assess
later. The suspicious end to his previous
personal simulation had left him on edge, and
being unable to rerun it had been playing on his
mind. This mammoth client simulation finally
complete, he took his chance to sneak a replay
of his previous run with all of the same
parameters, whilst supposedly collating data for
the politician. Turning his screen further from
the open arch out into the office, he brought
the world back into being.
***
Thursday, 8 th of February, 2034, 7:24AM
Daniel idly wondered what kind of man he’d
have to be to consider sending her a card,
suggesting she get checked up. He had her
address, after all.
The client’s next favoured option lowered the
government subsidy given to public research
facilities. One of these was the Climatology Lab
which, despite severe political efforts to stifle
any practical movement, turned out to be very
close to suggesting a law change that would
hamper business activity for the next 20 years,
but also save the figure’s beachfront properties
in California from falling into the Pacific in the
next five.
After rehashing the possibilities for four and
a half 24-hour days, the simulator let out a
drawn-out whine, and displayed the finalised
data from the computing marathon. Daniel,
who had been anxiously tapping his shoe for
the past two days of watching the universes
I’d spent the last month, almost, visiting
Gino’s twice a week before work, sipping Italian
coffee and getting to know the staff and the
regulars. I feigned an insipid smile for the full
45 minutes I spent here in the mornings, and
for the most part it seemed to be working.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” Findlay, some
business kid from the city who put a great deal
of effort into looking effortlessly cool, slapped
his hand solidly on my shoulder and slumped
into the seat across from me. We’d spoken a few
times before. He lifted the strap of his
messenger bag over his head and warmed his
hands by cupping them around his macchiato.
“Good, man, good,” I acted. Something rose
in me like bile. It was cold, like fear, I could feel
it filling me from my heart to the tips of my
fingers. I twitched.
Findlay stared at me. “Hey? You okay, Dan?”
What the hell is wrong with me? I squeezed my
hands into fists and put them in my lap.
Something’s wrong. Something more than usual.
“No, no, nothing! Sorry.” I lied. “Cold, huh?”