The sun burned immensely at the horizon, touching everything with crimson and orange; a minute later, it had fallen beneath the skyline of the city and the neon roar prevailed.

From her top-story office at the AETHER building, Devon Bloom sat, watching the night come to life. Her office, spherical in shape, protruded horizontally from the top edge of the building. One half of the sphere—the outward-facing half—was constructed of a smooth transparent material; due to the flawless transparency of the material, it appeared as though she, her chair, and her desk, were supernaturally suspended above the city. 

Devon sank into the thick padding of her chair and sighed exhaustedly. She raised a cup of coffee to her lips and made a face. It was tepid. She put the cup on her desk and went back to staring at the frenzy of lights across the city. She wondered how many of those people, if any, had a clue as to what the morning would bring.

A warm tone indicated that someone was at the door to her office.

“Come,” she said.

A lanky anthropomorphic shape entered, walked casually to Lexa’s desk, and placed a thin rectangular object in front of her.

“What’s this?” Her tone was impatient and tired.

“The projected numbers for the next ten hours,” intoned the shape.

“I already have those.”

“No,” insisted the shape. “These are the updated numbers.”

Devon tapped a screen on her desk and the transparent half of her office became opaque. She tapped at the screen a few more times, waited, watched the screen, then spoke. “Tell me what I need to know.”

“Perhaps,” said the shape, in its androgynous tone, “if you played the tab first, it would be easier for us to discuss.”

Devon eyed the small rectangle for a moment before picking it up and plugging it into a slot on the top of her desk; it stood like a tiny monolith. After a few seconds, it began to glow faintly, and a series of charts and figures were projected above the desk. Devon studied them. “This can’t be correct,” she said, a quaver in her voice.

“These figures are certainly more accurate than the earlier estimates,” the shape intoned. “For obvious reasons, The Cloud has not released these new numbers into circulation.”

*This is an excerpt from a collection of sci-fi short stories I’m currently working on.