Panic Button
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Viewed from above, the earth is a schematic, a complex network populated with avatars and their constructs. Human beings and animals going about their daily business, their very lives hotwired to a web of their own invention. Every movement, and every choice, a series of variables driven by fateful algorithms — seemingly infinite possibilities narrowed to a fixed set of outcomes.
Let’s open a window on that world.
Let us zoom in and find a city, a termite mound of industry and activity. They look like insects, the people, from this high vantage point. Their buildings are like nests.
Let’s zoom in some more, find one such nest.
Here’s one, a modern redbrick housing block. A black vehicle waits outside, its engine throbbing like a worker drone’s wings. Three insect figures are gathered around, saying their goodbyes.
Full zoom now, and we can see these insects for what they really are.
Jo Scott sat back in the limo’s luxurious leather seat as the driver closed the door. She located the electric window button, pressed it, and looked out at the two faces she knew and loved better than anything in the world. Her daughter was the epitome of a miserable eight year-old, frowning and clutching her little pink touch screen phone. Jo’s heart ached. Sophie looked a world away from her already. Leaning out through the limo window, Jo gently held Sophie’s tiny wrists.