Kristeen sank underwater again. The warm bathwater closed over her as she opened her eyes to the blurred lights of the bathroom. She needed something to distract her. She had to, until the effect of Judy’s pill kicked in. She had to, otherwise the emptiness that was closing in on her would swallow her, and she would collapse. She didn't want to collapse. She wouldn't allow herself to. Not that anyone would notice. However, as winter approached, it seemed as if she was finally climbing out of this seemingly endless pit. But the sudden, resounding success that had lifted her up for a few weeks was over, and now she was lower than before.

  She had known for a long time that Jonathan wouldn't renew their marriage contract, and she wasn't angry about it, nevertheless, when their daughter, Sveta, moved in with her boyfriend, it felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her. She knew it would happen, but it was one thing to know it and another to be home, alone. And as often happens at such times, world history was sweeping over her head.

  In the past few months, the first spacecraft designed to terraform a planet outside the solar system had been launched, only to be lost shortly after. Humanity's greatest project in the Age of Preparation. Success and failure had almost merged; the calm surface of society was stirred up by emotions, and the stillness before the change made everyone tense.

  Kristeen Darell taught literature and creative writing at the local high school. She had her students prepare a collection of short stories every year, same as this year. But this volume became an unexpected success. Not just among parents and grandparents, as usual, but in the entire city, and within a few hours after that, worldwide. Within a few days, countless translations in different sociolinguistic layers were made so that everyone interested could download and read or listen to it. Of course, she knew that a large part of the success was due to the algorithm, which, for some reason, gave the volume a high ranking. Nevertheless, the children’s happiness and pride were contagious. They gave interviews, appeared alongside celebrities, and were asked for their opinions on social issues. As always, she had put a lot of work into this book. Getting teenagers to create was almost impossible. It was good to finally reap so much recognition. Teaching had always given her daily joy, but basking in such an overwhelming success was like a trip to Mars. But now, with the interest fading, all that was left was an incomprehensible emptiness.

  This was compounded by the anger and apathy surrounding the loss of the Entanglement. The failure of the decades-long goal of conquering deep space had also swept her up, even though these things didn't really interest her. The loss of the spacecraft, along with the robots and biological agents piled on board, was a devastating blow to the existing peaceful world.

  The past decades had been about this moment. The great breakthrough everyone had been working for. When the spacecraft was launched, humanity was almost united in happiness. The achievement, this long-awaited milestone, was followed by euphoric celebrations. The celebration had barely ended when communication with the spacecraft was lost and could never be re-established. The Entanglement was lost. Humanity's dream was hurtling towards the unknown as a cold, lifeless piece of junk. There was no chance of catching up or fixing the error due to its ever-increasing speed and the distance it had already travelled.

  The momentary disbelief was quickly replaced by despair and the holding of the builders accountable.

  The meaningless and confused statements made by the engineers of Advanced Protection (AP), the software developers of Bhicoog and the executives, were constantly tagged with a truth-stamp in the dotted, blue bar, causing a general distrust of the two corporations.

  As is typical in such cases, cities and smaller political movements immediately sought to exploit the situation to make room for their own truths. Bhicoog and AP did not point fingers at each other this time. They knew they just had to survive the first few weeks, and then people would remember the events with a bitter grimace. Bhicoog’s recommendation algorithms flooded the media with contradictory theories and statements, and soon everyone grew tired of trying to find the truth. Free concerts and unexpected sports results provided more tangible topics of conversation. In the northern hemisphere, people immersed themselves in the slowly unfolding mild winter, while in the south, they took refuge within the walls of buildings to survive the relentless summer.

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  Kristeen, floating in the tub, slowly ran out of air and could no longer listen to the soothing silence of the water; she had to surface. The information panel indicated in green that someone had called her.

  "Judy, was that Sveta?" she asked her electronic assistant.

  She still had hope that her daughter would take the time to congratulate her or simply ask how she was. But the negative answer didn't surprise her. "Teenagers," she soothed herself. "I'll matter again once she’s had her fun, or when she runs out of units." Jonathan, at least, called her sometimes and, with his usual kindness, asked how she was doing. There was no anger, and not too much emotion left between them.

  The beginning of the winter break found Kristeen in the worst possible state.

  "Daan Bos wants a meeting," Judy’s silky voice said.

  Kristeen was surprised. Daan Bos was one of the richest people in the world. An arrogant jerk, he moved to a different continent every two years, at least that's how she remembered it. This must be a misunderstanding. Daan was mostly interested in bio-robots and New Humanity. Kristeen was interested in literature and education. She used to think about saving the world, but there was no overwhelming demand for it.

  "That pompous jerk Daan?" she asked cautiously.

  "The billionaire, robot biologist, and politician Daan. With an A-plus logical intelligence," Judy clarified. "There are 39 others within a 200 km radius, but 'pompous jerk' is not on any of their data sheets."

  "Assistants and association," Kristeen sighed. "Find a time slot for tomorrow, but I want at least ten hours of sleep and a leisurely breakfast."

  "Alright. Do you want me to turn on the association module? Jonathan asked me to turn it off."

  Kristeen sighed again. "Leave it, Judy. It's good if at least one person in a conversation can be understood. Did Daan say what he wanted?"

  "He did not indicate."

  "What's the latest news about him?"

  "What are you interested in? Quarterly corporate report, acquisitions, family, New Humanity statements, social engagement?"

  "Let's go with the last one. I don't think he wants a child from me."

  "Daan already has several adult offspring."

  "Thank you, then we've cleared that up."

  "His social engagement is related to New Humanity. He sharply criticizes how the truth-stamp is placed under everything. He believes this is making humanity stupid and that many people are forgetting how to think. In his opinion, the truth-stamp should be hidden on the Knowledge Network so that determining the truth becomes the task of people again. Because if it remains as it is, our species is going to wither away. You may have recently encountered his name in connection with the criticism of Bhicoog. He believes their knowledge monopoly led to the loss of the spacecraft. In addition, he is one of the biggest preservationists. He buys up every library, including the ones in your zone, and digitizes them. He then sells the books to collectors, usually at a huge profit. He encourages everyone to read and think."

  "That's good. So, there are a few things we agree on. Is that all?"

  "The rest of the data is not public. Daan uses a private network."

  "Of course, what was I thinking… I guess he has his own satellite too."

  "Several."

  "Okay, okay, I was just saying…"

  "So should I shut up now?"

  "Bingo!"

  Kristeen sank back into the tub. This was when her non-existent height came in handy. She could stretch out comfortably; her short, curly hair spread across the water.

  "Promising! Even if it doesn't solve my family crisis, at least something will happen."

  Then something else occurred to her. "Judy! How am I doing financially now?"

  "According to the network, you've rendered a great service to the future. It has uploaded eleven million and some change."

  "That's good! That's good!" joy shot through Kristeen. "I can travel anywhere. Maybe even to Mars." Then she dismissed the idea of travelling. Her old desires no longer brought her joy. "I might get one or two real books, though. If I can come to some agreement with this Daan, maybe I can buy them at a discount from him." The thought completely energized her. "Real paper books, their smell…" She became lost in thought. Her childhood room came to mind. Her bad mood disappeared for a moment. But then she thought of Sveta again, wondering what would make her happy. Sveta was still able to find joy in premium items. Kristeen had never been interested in them. "To leave a mark!" Leaving a mark on the world was the only thing that excited her. Everything else was a minor detail compared to that. She certainly wouldn't have spent a single unit on premium products.

  Kristeen began to feel sleepy. But at least she was in a better mood now. The pill, or the news of the inquiry—it didn't matter. She got out of the tub and went to bed.

  The next day, Judy woke her up on time.