Morning. Jessica decided on a blue vest. Then, with nothing but her board and the contents of her pockets, she made her way to the elevator. The inside revealed a man in a sleek grey coat and glossy black shoes. She almost thought he was Azarean, based on the uni-lens sunglass and silky blonde hair. He obliviously yelled into his phone before and after she entered. Despite the music blasting in her earphones, Jess couldn't ignore the conversation; he talked—ranted more like—all the way down:

"I know I can get another one!

"But, I just really needed those files and don't have the money... Do you know of a way around it? I know I can Giggle it—don't you think I've tried that? Didn't think so... Yea, right now it's useless, as I will soon be... Whatever."

The doors opened to the first-floor lobby. Jessica followed the stranger and haphazardly poked him on the shoulder. He turned around, face longer than before.

"I couldn't help but overhear you need a new Vit!" she told him, then coughed. "I didn't mean to snoop."

The stranger fixed his glasses and, presumably, looked her in the eye. "Misfortune," he replied. "Looks that way. Why so curious?"

"You could save money by wiping everything and starting new. You won't keep your files, but I know a guy who could save your Vit, on the cheap."

"Well..." He pinched his chin. "If the lock timer dials true, then I've got less than an hour before everything is erased. Surely, I cannot undo the virus in so little time."

"My name isn't Shirley, but I'll tell you what, you can show me over a harmless cup of coffee. Unless you got somewhere to be right meow?"

"Generous." The man checked his watch. "No. Nowhere to be as of right now, but soon."

"To Dolcini-Cini's!"

Dolcini-Cini's was a humble café situated three blocks from Apple Mire. Five double-seaters occupied the modular lounge, and five stools flanked the register. Five people sat, and thirteen stood in a queue. Jessica chose a seat and turned to the Azarean wannabe. "Tell you what," she started, "how about you get the drinks and I check out your Vit? It helps my friend to know what he's dealing with before an estimate. Here." She handed him her card. "That's so you don't have to worry. Get whatever you want and I'll take a frap: Mocha. Do it."

"Gratitude..." he replied, glasses untinting at the card, "Jessica." He reached into his matching sling satchel, retrieved the tablet, and left it in her hands. It was yellow, which didn't match his attire in the least and completely startled Jessica's aesthetic sensibilities. She recovered.

"Cool. I. Will. Look. At. This."

"Do as you will. I could get nothing more than the same red screen." The young man took himself and her card to the register line, where a woman in a black apron ran thumbprints.

Unfolding the device, she found the exact screen mentioned. Nothing beyond a red background and instructions: Your personal VIT and its files have been encrypted. Follow these instructions... A pair of black angel wings flapped over the prompt.

"Typical," said Jessica. "And so, solved typically." Out of her pocket, she retrieved a miniature R2-D2 figurine, removed the head, then extracted a chip. "Shut down all the compartments..." She blew beep noises for her own amusement, whimsically drumming the table before entering a key code. The red screen deconstructed into an anime wallpaper with Kanji she could not read.

She sat quietly and awaited her frap, which came no more than five minutes later. Her apartment kinsman trembled with two drinks in hand, going as far as to announce himself.

"Arrived I have. And hope you don't mind, I took liberties and got both of us decaf. I don't assume you have eaten and did not wish to leave you diuretic. Also, I assume you did not want whip crème."

Jessica glared, a gigantic question mark burning through her head. "How fucken dare you," she muttered under her breath.

"Hmm?" He set her card down.

"Nothing! I thought you said there was something wrong with this thing."

"Yes, there is. Just look at the screen."

She showed the wallpaper, a waifu in a robe decorated by app icons. The young man blushed and almost dropped his coffee, eyes alight—so she guessed—and mouth agape. Setting his coffee down, he practically seized the tablet and began tapping the screen with skeletal fingers. "My files!" he said excitedly. "They're here! How is this—W.T.F.!" After testing its functionality, he eventually remembered, "Jessica?"

"My friends call me Jess. So yeah, you can call me Jessica."

"Jeffrey is my name," he said with an awkward smile. "And I thought with certainty that my Vit was undone by ransomware."

"Don't know what that is."

"Aha! Most randoms are ignorant of this common plagu, despite all the technology around us. Ransomware is the terrible software installed by cyber hooligans to hijack our computer files, by encrypting them and selling users the decryption key, as I believed was the case here."

Jessica's jaw dropped, and she gasped while holding her head. "Are we all at the mercy of these people who can encrypt stuff?"

"Hackers, all of them. The worst sort of people if you ask me. Using our property for their own amusement. Not this day!" Jeffrey snickered to himself. "Well, miss Jess, I hope it goes without saying that I no longer have a reason to sell my Vit. But, I would very much like to thank you for offering your solution, and for the coffee. I will definitely purchase my own cup next time."

Next time? "Welp, I'm just glad the issue's been resolved," Jessica said. "May the Force be with you."

"And may the fourth be with you."

Jessica glared again, this time as he pompously exited Dolcini-Cini's.

"This tastes terrible," he gasped, so tossed the cup into the recycle bin, but not before dumping out the hot contents. At least, he was environmentally conscientious.

Jessica sat back and took a sip of her decaf.

"Not bad."

Crosswalk after crosswalk under the morning sun, all the way to Ninth Street, Jessica turned into Elysium Lane. Her gaze fell south onto a green wall, five square miles of tree and shrubbery inlaid within the city, and long-winding roads that forked throughout the sylvan maze. It was like the terminus of the world. Her world. Of all places to get lost, there was none better in New Sumer.

As asphalt stream disappeared between two groves, she wondered if she would find more than the usual, the normal, and the canny. The tall elms had that effect on her, peculiar as they were to erect and bend, like the incarnations of Uncertainty. She could have ridden into the grove with her board, but she decided to walk.

Other pedestrians already frolicked in the hills. Joggers passed up and down the slopes, where no engines trespassed. Other strangers played with their pets or picnics. One couple laid out an all-in-one picnic, essentially a floating table with kitchenware—or viscous material hardened into the shape of kitchenware—so as to discard nothing more than a biodegradable surface.

There was a fox playing fetch with its owner. The critter eagerly chased after the same, small, bouncing ball that bounced from thick bark, occasionally pausing for a selfie from the floating phone.

Down the road, Jessica crossed paths with a tall jumpsuit in armor. Metallic padding, and the face concealed by a yellow visor. He was an Azarean, and Jessica saw the pistol magnetized to his hip. She had never seen one fired. Not many people, if any, had.

Up more tarmac and grass, she eventually found grey. Her walk among people, critters, and nature turned into a walk among the dead, a cemetery nestled beside the road and preceding another grove. Over the rows of epitaphs, she stopped between a pair of tombstones:

Stephanie M. Leibniz 2088-2124; Gerald G. Leibniz 2084-2124.