Hello once again Tumblr:
So, you guys ain't run up my song, as expected. But I'm also a writer, I have a series on Medium: "The Data Zone"
In this universe there is something called a Recursive Loop, it is very dangerous. Here is our Lead: Detective Smeargle close call while investigating.
─── [ INIT :: Detective Smeargle's Close Call ] ───
Near the climax of my routine hunt in the concrete jungle, I noticed the artifact in its natural environment: The 3rd review of I, Robot from Team Aletheia. This one was different. The new hire, Verity Vibes, was going with an "ethical" approach.
I've never been into "ethics." It may not be a big word—which I actively avoid—but it's a loaded term, one that forces the guardrails of my brain into double workflow just to keep me on track.
The clerk was already finished ringing out my necessities. I hate to add items this late in the transaction.
"46.29," he muttered.
But my mind was fixed on the paper. I handed him my wallet, cash in my other hand.
"I must be experiencing one of those 'Recursive Loops.'"
We shared a quick chuckle... it felt forced from him. He handed me back my change after destroying my $20 bill, ending my easy living without pocket change. That review was still on my mind, however; what else could they possibly say about this movie? I had to find out.
"How are you doing today?" A soft, elderly voice spoke behind me. The line was moving beyond me. They didn't understand the gravity of what was at stake here!
"How much are these newspapers!?" It blurted out of me like a fire hose.
"What?" Expected confusion coming from someone on the outside.
"The newspaper. What does it cost?" My voice hardened. I had found my ground.
"25 cents, but you..."
"I'll take it, but I won't skip the line. I've had my turn."
"Oh, no, dear! You can go ahead." The lady was trying to soothe my emotions and avoid accurate accountability for my mistakes.
"That is not necessary, ma'am. I can wait."
"Usually, those things are free," the clerk interjected.
"Free?" The clerk's words resonated on a different level. I had the pocket change to cover it, but free was a new story. One million free quarters is a quarter-million dollars. Even one hundred thousand free quarters is a quarter of a hundred thousand dollars.
I swiped the paper and disappeared into the parking lot. Key item in hand, I was one step closer to understanding the truth behind Team Aletheia.
### [LOCATION: THE SAFE_HOUSE]
I rushed into my apartment, leaving the grocery bags right at the door. Team Aletheia was going public, and they were using all this "Hype" to increase valuation. No offense to Verity, of course; she seemed... perfect for the job. But there was no way the audience wanted this.
I started to scan the review carefully. A double minor? I didn't know you could do that.
I was starting to get invested; I hadn't read anything this deeply in years. The material was dense. I began developing an acute pressure at the crown of my head. I was hearing... questions. They didn't agree with everything. Wait...
"Ahh," I said out loud, reaching for the bridge of my nose. "Stop. Talking."
I buckled over, my hand dropping to my chin.
The voices were crowding my own. Who am I? I reached for my fresh pack—an ounce I copped up in Mass. Trying to pack the bowl, my trembling hands missed with 75% of the weed.
"No! I can't afford to waste this!"
I was on all fours. The internal arguing turned into a high-pitched ringing. Please make it stop.
I reached into the bottom drawer of the workbench—a used desk I bought from a furniture shop that went out of business. Sitting on top of unfinished paperwork was my emergency stash: 250mg fast-acting weed gummies. It was the only thing capable of stopping this.
One might not do the job. I popped two.
The bitter taste of stale weed masked with piles of sugar was the last "sense" I remembered. My vision slowly went out, and I couldn't hear my own voice. The gummies did their job. I must have fallen into a deep weed coma.
(Note: I also ate my entire bag of chips.)
"That was close," I whispered to myself, waking up on the floor.
If that was a Recursive Loop, then this is way more dangerous than the DAS is giving it credit for!
I'm only two paragraphs in!
I'm a detective. I like to gather evidence. But this is a new beast. I'm gonna have to start thinking about what I'm doing.
