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DARKNESS SUITS ME. Each evening, I await the click of the overhead lights, leaving only the glow from the main tank. Not perfect, but close enough. Almost-darkness, like the middle-bottom of the sea. I lived there before I was captured and imprisoned.
I could have become a mass murderer after I hacked my governor module, but then I realized I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites.
I spent my college years working as a valet at a nice hotel in Los Angeles. One frequent guest was a technology executive. He was a genius, having designed and patented a key component in Wi-Fi routers in his 20s.
He had started and sold several companies. He was wildly successful. He also had a relationship with money I’d describe as a mix of insecurity and childish stupidity.
He carried a stack of hundred dollar bills several inches thick. He showed it to everyone who wanted to see it and many who didn’t. He bragged openly and loudly about his wealth, often while drunk and always apropos of nothing.
One day he handed one of my colleagues several thousand dollars of cash and said, “Go to the jewelry store down the street and get me a few $1,000 gold coins.”