Outer Limits

“The edges of the North are always different than those in the South,” Nemo thinks to himself, as his Uber driver zips at 90 mph into the outer limits of Zeitville, past a decayed power line.

“You ever been here before?” the driver casually grumbles.

Nemo pauses before answering. The South: it’s always slower, more lush, even bucolic and inclusive.

In the past, the North has always been harder, wealthier, more industrial, insular—but in a post-2020 world, all shining avatars seem to have become shells of their former glory.

“Never been, no,” Nemo finally answers.

He’s headed to Klout Casino, where your payout can be in crypto.

He’s trying to get his TruthToken to become a payout option. OriginalSyn’s KnowCoin is on tap now, after their triple-digit valuation at the Aries Full Moon.

Nemo’s hoping that the casino’s acceptance will boost his coin’s price, even though that’s antithetical to his entire project’s ethos of curated quality over quantity.

“Welcome to Klout Casino,” the masked bouncer says out front.

Nemo freezes for a second. Wait, is this casino run by OriginalSyn—is that why their KnowCoin got accepted? Is that really who I’m meeting with?

“I’ll show you to our back offices,” the man says. It seems as if his voice is coming through the speakers of the screen around his head. Or is that his actual head? Nemo thinks to himself, shuddering.

Passing across the casino floor, Nemo notices beautiful women looking at him and talking excitedly.

“I hope you don’t mind, word got out that you’d be here,” the bouncer says. “Your presence is causing a stir, it seems. . .”

“Is that Nemo? The TruthToken guy?” one of the women says as Nemo gets close enough to smell her intoxicating perfume. “Can we get your picture?”

“Sorry, ma’m, we’re on business,” the bouncer replies.

Nemo is more than a bit high on the beauty and fame directed his way.

In the backroom are masked men in suits.

They introduce themselves as the owners of Klout Casino—and yes, they’re the primary stakeholders in OriginalSyn.

Nemo learns that these stakeholders pump up the price of KnowCoin. He also learns that part of their profits go into funding transhumanist “lifestyle enhancements,” like the “neuro-link Internet” all the box-headed staff enjoy here.

“Pumping is just business, you see,” one of them says. “And that’s why we’d like to buyout TruthToken. We merge our two blockchains—you take profits, we take profits, everyone’s happy.”

“Except the customers holding the bag,” one of the other men cackles.

Nemo is seriously conflicted. He’s never been so wined and dined. He suddenly sympathizes with Casey, who he’s been angry at for indulging in similar biz deals.

“How much do you want for it?” he asks.

“10,000 dollars,” one of the men says. Nemo breaks out laughing immediately—he can’t believe it’s real.

“10 thousand? This could be a 10 million dollar concept some day. . .”

One of the masked men procures a file from the desk and hands it to Nemo. Inside appear to be pics of Casey in various states of undress. It’s hard to tell in this light—they seem Photoshopped—but Nemo bites the bait.

“We think 10,000 is fair, Nemo, because a merger would also mean we don’t accidentally leak the director’s cut—surely you haven’t forgotten we have these,” the man laughs.

Ransomed—and coerced. Nemo feels the cold hand of the bouncer on his shoulder. It doesn’t seem like he has a choice to say “no” here.

Thinking quickly, he leans back in his chair, causing the bouncer to trip backwards—smashing his head into the wall and sending sparks everywhere. Nemo bolts for the door as one of the men pulls an alarm.

He stumbles past clusters of flustered customers, to an exit that opens onto dusk—the border between day and night.

He can hear footsteps after him but he keeps running, past an industrial reservoir, into wilderness. The casino recedes into the distance but he hears police sirens now.

As he’s running he feels Casey’s faux-gold chain come out of his pocket—she gave it to him for safe keeping when she left at the end of Bold and Gold Summer.

He turns to retrieve it but notices a cop step out of a car. Running on, he turns his head to see the cop picking up the necklace and pocketing it.

The loss pains him like nothing else. It pushes him on, further into the outer limits of his self, a foreign place yet strangely homelike, too. . .

To be continued.