Apocalyptic warning near Westminster Houses of Parliament in London.
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Northern California, November
Act now!ecology convention
Lenk
On the day the world ended, Renku Sketlish, CEO and founder of Fantail Social Network, sat under a redwood forest in a designated natural beauty spot at dawn and tried to inhale through his navel.
The snow-capped peaks of distant mountains capture the imagination with their curves and crevasses. The nearby trees were maroon for fawns and gray-green for sage. The sequoia's trunk was solid, with cords and twisted vine-like patterns, and its surface was softened by moss and grass. Small insects buzzed around in the dense mass.
“There is no way to really know what's going to happen next,” the instructor said.
Well, it was all a shit show. There was no way to know. Something might happen in the next moment. There might be an opportunity, someone might grab a new idea, or a competitor might try to steal your property. It's also possible that company-stealer Ellen Bywater has Medlar's all-seeing eye in his direction, and her gleaming, elegant hardware is an aspirational alternative to the workaday fantail. Medlar Torc is her new thing, and all her communication needs are handled by this stylish device. She now always seems to be one step ahead of him, seducing his key demographic like she stole Medlar. She may have new products from her, but of course there could also be an earthquake, a sudden heart attack, a deadly bomb released by an unstable dictator far away, or a global pandemic. . anything.
Renku Sketlish was a powerful man who had made a career out of knowing the future, smelling it, and feeling more present around him than the present. The future was his home and his solace. The urgency of tomorrow, the next decade, the next century loomed over him and drove him forward.
“There is no way to know what will actually happen even one second into the future.”
No, that doesn't work for me, thought Renku Sketlish. A low but urgent beep rang out from the thin screen on his wrist. The meditation instructor's brow furrowed, and a satisfying thought occurred to Lenk. Oh, look, there's no way to actually know what's going to happen, right? He glanced at the thin screen. That would be an emergency in Albania or Thailand, a decision to be made, a problem to be resolved, and a wonderful, financially uncontroversial excuse to end the session early. But that wasn't the case. The skin on his face tightened. He narrowed his eyes at the notification. It was no minor escapade. It was the end of days.
extracted from future Written by Naomi Alderman, published by 4th Estate. future This is the latest recommended book from the New Scientist Book Club.Register here and read along
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