A story exploring time travel and societal issues in the wake of 9/11. This is chapter 8. See previous posts for chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7.
"Okay, let's hear them!" said T2 to his assembled NIS team. "What are your best predictions for the next twenty years?"
"You go first," said Tyler.
"Alright," said T2. "I predict that society will get so screwy that people will barely have sex anymore."
"Lame!" said Ken. "No way! How about this? I predict that the tech companies will get as big and powerful as governments."
"Duh!" said Rachel. "I think there'll be computers in everything. Phones. Watches. Refrigerators and coffee makers. Maybe even light bulbs. It's like, computers keep getting smaller, so why not put them in everything?"
"Reed?" asked T2.
"I'm thinking," said Reed. "What about UFOs? I think that the government will finally admit that they've been studying UFOs and it will change everything."
"Do I get a guess?" asked Trish from the alcove where she'd recently started working. "I know I'm TAP and not NIS. But can I do one?"
"For sure," said T2. "Let's hear it."
Trish didn't have anything ready. She simply wanted to participate. "I think, in the future, it'll be okay to be gay," she said. "Like, gay people will be able to do anything that straight people can. Get married. All that."
"Great thoughts everyone," said T2.
"Yours kinda sucked," observed Ken.
"And yours was too obvious," said T2. "Fortunately, this isn't a contest. It's just for fun. An exercise to get you thinking about how your work might fit into the world as time goes on."
Retiring to his office, T2 had a long phone conversation with Thomas and August. Their year abroad had turned into something longer, an indefinite adventure. Most recently, they'd purchased a boat on the Ionian Sea and made their way to Amsterdam, where they'd joined an art collective. When the conversation ended, T2 found the main room empty. He sighed, locked the door, lit a spliff, and laid down on his back on the conference table, looking absently up at the art installation hanging above.
"So that's what you do when we're gone," said Trish, who had been in the bathroom.
"Want some?" asked T2, wiggling the spliff.
"I'll take a regular cigarette if you got one," said Trish.
T2 rolled her one and held it up from his prone position. Trish took it, lit it, and laid down next to him on the table. "Looks good from this angle," she said, pointing at the twenty canvas art piece suspended above. "Are those graphs?"
"I talked to your old friend Thomas," said T2. "He's in Amsterdam. He was sick, but they figured it out over there and he's fine now. Probably won't be coming back here anytime soon, though."
"That's cool," said Trish. "Tell him hey the next time you talk."
"And yes, there are graphs there," said T2. "The timeframe is 2000 to 2025. Inflation is in red. Income growth rate disparities are the blue and pink. Intergenerational disparities are those concentric circles."
"Cool," said Trish. "And the big tree thing that looks like a subway map?"
"Key events," said T2.
"What's that writing, there?" asked Trish.
"You'll see, if you ever get close enough to read it for yourself," said T2.
"Jerk!" said Trish.
"Nothing like a good mystery," said T2.
"Is it song lyrics?" asked Trish. "I bet it's song lyrics."
"Maybe it is," said T2. "On another topic, I have a question."
"What's up?" asked Trish.
"If you won the lottery, would you still want to work for TAP?" asked T2. "Like, let's say you won the lottery tomorrow. Do you quit?"
"I don't know," said Trish. "It's cool what you're trying to do but how big of a lottery are we talking?"
"Let's say you'd end up with seven million after taxes and splitting it with somebody," said T2.
"Splitting it?" asked Trish.
"Hypothetically," said T2.
"I'd want to build a treehouse in a forest and work from there," said Trish.
"Would you come into the office for monthly meetings?" asked T2.
"Fine, but one of the months, we meet in the forest," said Trish.
"Deal," said T2, holding out his hand. They shook on it. Then T2 pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "Play these numbers tomorrow and split the winnings with me," he said.
"And if I win, I'm serious about the treehouse," said Trish.
The next day, Trish played the numbers and won. She bought wooded property next to a national forest and began planning her treehouse. All T2 would say about the numbers was that they were randomly generated, which was technically true. Whenever Trish brought it up, T2 redirected the subject to her plans for the winnings. Trish was considering using her property for an ecovillage and T2 encouraged this.
When their school year ended, Tyler, Ken, and Rachel decided to form their own company and Reed stayed on with NIS. Now, most days, Reed was the only one showing up at the office, where he worked on projects at the intersection of cryptography and decentralized systems. One afternoon in June, Agent Jennings walked through the door, looking exceptionally somber. "Is he here?" she asked Reed. "I need to see him. Now."
"Check his apartment upstairs," said Reed without looking up from his work. "Through the door, all the way back, up the stairs."
(Feature image from Pixabay.)
Read my novels:
Check out the comic I wrote:
