About “The Cure For Everything”

The Cure For Everything is an idea I flirted with years ago. All I remembered was the first line, about a Tuesday in April. Sometimes, that’s all I need to go on. The novel I’m planning had its genesis in a single note that I scrawled while driving on I5: “Film noir detective in Antarctica.” How can you get more noir-ish than a night that lasts months?

This story clocks in at 2614 words, written in about 3.5 hours. So I overshot my target a bit, but I think the initial test came back positive: I can think up and physically type out the 2000 words I need, in one sitting, in a time period that could conceivably fit before work.

I welcome comments about the story on that story’s post. I don’t think it’s a particularly good story, but it served its purpose. I hope to do things more interestingly in the future. There may be some exploration of my Antarctic Noir, and maybe some stuff set in a friend’s RPG setting that I’m currently playing, and maybe some original mish-mash.

Onward!

The Cure For Everything

I remember it being a Tuesday morning in April when Dr. Yuki Dupree announced the cure for everything.

She was in Kyoto, and rumor was that she wanted the American stock markets to be closed because they were so overrun with robot traders. Vast server farms located on the same block as the NYSE so that the speed of light wouldn’t hinder the rapidity of their buying and selling. Dedicated fiber optic lines from traditional news sources and databases so that that packet-routing silliness that made the internet work wouldn’t impede their access to data. More servers than Twitter and Facebook combined, just to analyze the trending topics of social chatter on Twitter and Facebook.

All that automated moving of money made things volatile when the unexpected showed up. Markets were going to crash anyway, but if she could keep the humans involved then they might crash just a bit more gently. When she did this, healthcare services, pharmaceutical companies, massive insurance cartels, and all the politicians their lobbyists supported would all come crashing down to being near worthless overnight. She had dumped the plans for this dime-sized, 75¢ piece of gallium and silicon onto a dozen servers around the world, and with that she had cured… everything.

It was barely four days later that she regretted it, and six weeks before she became the first of the Healthy But Dead. Continue reading