A Lesson

Views-wire – it is burning down and the images are about to shatter and shrapnel. Marketing 101 for trend-hacktivists. He pops a cycle-focus tab and dials in on the live-splice crowd-runner that he is going to be employing. It flashes bright of a thousand surfaces and only him, with his special lenses avoids the effect.

An atrocity exhibition that pulls from every person’s individual smart-chipped lifestory unspools like a horrific birthday treat. He is dot-to-dotting for them the trajectory of their simple choices and how they feed into larger movements that shape and break the planet daily. Most of them are shell-shocked, but he knows that some of them will wake up after this.

The police do nothing because their interlinked communication system spread everything faster – they are seeing what it means to be a cop in this day and age.

It lasts half an hour – in and out quick; otherwise it’s not safe. There are turncoat hackers in the government Cracktivist movement working to clean up all those they have labelled black hats.

He flicks a switch and his suit sparks with info-dazzle and anything that tries to look at him snow-crashes.

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Working The Babyfarm

Yeltsin called himself Big Mama because he spent more than half his waking life tending these maturation chambers for Multi-purpose Baby Industries. He liked the section he was in now most – the babies actually destined for families or insertion points along interstellar travels; they gave him hope.

Wander further through the factory and you had organ farm central and they were just baby-shaped spare part factories – no brainstems, so no consciousness.

Neighbouring that was Foetal Foodstuffs – where the burgermeat babies were farmed. It was gruesome, and his least favourite part.

Back over to Maturation and soothing music was being piped in, the ambient underwater lighting made him sleepy. It wasn’t a bad job, and the monitoring function was fairly easy. He had never klaxoned which was unusual, most people did, and he had heard that the panic was unbelievable. The livestock here was worth a lot of money, whatever section you looked at. Wall to wall, ceiling to floor, row-upon-row: babies.

Big Mama lit up a doobie and put on some Marley on the headphones. His pizza should arrive soon, and it was always fun seeing the shell-shocked pizza guy shepherded through by security.