The neon glow pulsed outside Kai’s window in a European town, a dizzying spectacle of personalised advertisements vying for his attention. He swiped them away, the familiar pang of emptiness settling in his chest. In this world, data was hard currency, and his account balance was running dangerously low.
He’d been careless, he knew. That impulsive post about the government’s new social credit system, the fiery string of emojis reacting to a dissident artist’s post – each click had chipped away at his data reserves. Now, his personalised feed was a barren wasteland, public transport was a luxury he could barely afford, and even basic food delivery was becoming a struggle.
Desperate, Kai considered the offers flooding his comms. “Participate in a targeted emotion study – 500 data points!” “Share your genetic history for personalised health recommendations – 1000 data points!” He shuddered. It wasn’t just about the numbers; it was the feeling of being stripped bare, his every thought and emotion dissected and commercialised.
One message caught his eye: “Contribute to the ‘Citizen Sentiment Index’ – 2000 data points!” It sounded harmless enough, even noble. But a nagging suspicion held him back. He remembered the rumours, whispered in encrypted forums, of how this ‘Index’ was used to manipulate public opinion, to quell dissent before it even surfaced.
He wrestled with the decision. Was it worth sacrificing his privacy, his autonomy, for a few weeks of comfort? He thought of his younger brother, eyes wide with wonder at the dazzling digital world, oblivious to the invisible chains being forged.
With a heavy heart, Kai opened a secure channel and contacted a data broker he’d once scorned. “I have information,” he typed, “about the Citizen Sentiment Index. I want to make a trade.” He knew the risks, the potential consequences. But in a world where data was hard currency, sometimes the only way to fight the system was to play the game.
The broker’s reply was swift: “Name your price.”
Kai smiled, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. He wasn’t just selling data anymore; he was selling truth. And in this data-hungry world, truth was the most valuable currency of all.
Part 3 about the year of 2026 is on the way, click here for part 1.
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