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       #Post#: 14448--------------------------------------------------
       2084 (Storytelling)
       By: Nikola Date: April 16, 2019, 7:20 am
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       Try as she might, Irena could not get her head around the fact
       that the office had one of those hideous, shape-changing Chinese
       glitter clocks. They were trendy back in the 2050s. "This place
       is so run-down," she thought.
       She reorganised her papers one last time and put them back in
       the folder. A green light flashed briefly, indicating that all
       important documents were in place. Funny how people had
       developed the finest technology only to go back to paper because
       it became the only way of protecting sensitive data. She sighed.
       "Sorry I kept you waiting so long," said Boris.
       "Not to worry."
       "You were right, the President is not very concerned. In fact he
       doesn't feel any measures need to be taken at this moment in
       time."
       "But…"
       "He is happy to continue funding the research, provided SHL
       doesn't know about it."
       "There's certainly no risk of that."
       "No need to be sarcastic. Sarcasm is the tool of a broken
       spirit, Comrade."
       "Right. The true hero is one who conquers his own anger and
       hatred."
       "Excellent. Is that Karl Marx?"
       "Not quite. I will see myself out."
       The elevator took her to the ground floor where she rested the
       back of her hand against the scanner until it recognised the
       chip under her skin. She then entered a 14-digit code to open
       the vault-style security door and once it closed behind her, she
       moved the old dusty curtain out of her way. She was inside the
       Happy Dough sandwich shop.
       The guy at the counter handed her a six-inch sandwich in a
       bio-degradable plastic bag, she nodded her head and left.
       The taxi was waiting outside. She opened the door and was about
       to take a step back, startled by what she saw, but got dragged
       inside the vehicle. She heard a click as the door locked. The
       car started moving, driving by itself.
       "I knew I shouldn't take Uber."
       "Yeah, how are they even still around? Anyway, I should probably
       introduce myself."
       "I know who you are. Neal C, the last person I should be talking
       to."
       "You're well informed. So what have you been up to, Irena?"
       "I just got myself a sandwich from Happy Dough's."
       "Yeah? What's in it?" Asked Neal and snatched the bag off her.
       "Vegan patty."
       He tore the paper wrapper off and checked.
       "Incorrect. It's meatballs, actually. They probably got it
       wrong. Unless, of course, it's not a real shop and you don't
       give a damn about what's in it," he said and took a bite. "So
       what were you doing there?"
       "That's none of your business. Let me out."
       "I know it was about SHL."
       "And by SHL you mean…?"
       "A computer program that is effectively running the country."
       "Don't be ridiculous. That's all far-right propaganda."
       "What does it do, then?"
       "It provides guidance, it analyses data and predicts, it's a
       magnificent tool. The country, however, is run by the President.
       They teach that in elementary school."
       "Everyone knows Radcliffe is a total pushover, just like his
       dad. A Brit and a wizard, come on. Look, I know you have
       considerable doubts about the whole thing."
       "I do?"
       "They're not taking you seriously."
       "I'm just doing my job."
       "They want to introduce German as the official language.
       German!"
       "That's a hoax. Now seriously, let me out, Neal. I can't help
       you in any way. And wipe that tomato sauce off your shirt."
       #Post#: 14449--------------------------------------------------
       Re: 2084 (Storytelling)
       By: Alharacas Date: April 16, 2019, 8:17 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Neal pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket, but made no
       move to dab at the spot on his shirt. Instead, he squinted at
       Irena's face and held out the small white squares to her.
       "You've got a little blob of lipstick on your front teeth, hon."
       After Irena had taken a discreet swipe at her mouth, Neal took a
       casual look at his antique looking, reconfigured
       Jaeger-LeCoultre. He smiled.
       "Don't you find it funny how governments are always the last
       ones to adapt to modern technology? I mean, my great-grandfather
       used to tell my mother how police stations had barely progressed
       beyond manual typewriters in 2000."
       The entity currently calling herself Irena didn't even try to
       hide her boredom.
       "And these days", Neal continued animatedly, "what's called our
       government is still relying on sub-derma chips for security. So
       last century, don't you think...", he checked his watch again,
       "... IP18-45? But do let's stay with Irena, by all means. So
       much less of a mouthful. Even though I must say I'd be
       interested to know whether the real Irena is in on it. Or, if
       she isn't, what you've done with her."
       IP18-45, trained to maintain a poker face unless normal human
       reactions were deemed advantageous, smiled thinly. The supposed
       lipstick on her front teeth had thrown her determining algorithm
       for a loop. The woman she was supposed to be would automatically
       have wiped her teeth, anything else would have outed her as a
       cyborg just as surely as the instant DNA-recognizing tissue
       which had sent her ID to Neal's watch. 'They shouldn't have let
       perma-makeup go out of fashion again' she grumbled internally,
       then pushed away the irrelevant thought.
       "Depends on what you mean when you say 'the real Irena'", she
       said somewhat enigmatically.
       #Post#: 14455--------------------------------------------------
       Re: 2084 (Storytelling)
       By: NealC Date: April 16, 2019, 11:31 am
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       Oh God, it's starting again...
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