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"We know how to manage chaos, we have its full source codes."
Damien sat at his desk, eyes glued to the computer monitor and fingers typing quickly at the keyboard. He was so close. He could feel it.
All his life he was consumed by chaos. It was everywhere. But he knew that there had to be some sort of logic that explained all the random events in his life. Something that explained why he knew 7 people whose favorite color was blue and knew 2 people whose favorite number was 7. It couldn’t be just coincidence. He hoped it wouldn’t be just a coincidence.
Damien’s alarm clock started beeping and he realized he had stayed at the computer all night again. It was the fourth night in a row and tiredness would start taking over very soon. He considered going to sleep for a few hours so he could come back with a fresh perspective but he knew there was no time to waste. It’s almost as if he was approaching his deadline but Damien wasn’t completely sure what deadline that was. All he knew is that the sooner he unraveled all the hidden strings connecting everything in the world, the sooner he would be able to understand. That’s all he ever wanted – knowledge.
All Damien had to do was create a system that could predict chaos and seemingly random events using logic. Damien had always been fascinated by the way logic worked and how it seemed to explain everything. Well, almost everything. There were still things he couldn’t explain and things he couldn’t predict and it drove him crazy. So much that he would spend his days creating computer systems that would logically explain certain events. That task was proving to be much more difficult than he thought at first. Even though he was able to create systems that could predict little, isolated things; he hadn’t been able to come up with a way of connecting everything.
When he looked out of his window he could imagine every tree, every person, every car, every cloud as a stream of 0’s and 1’s organized in what could look like a random fashion to the untrained eye, but for him it was a language as natural as his mother tongue. He could almost imagine all the tight lines that connected the fabric that was space and time – almost. There was something missing. Even though he could sort of visualize it, he couldn’t really incorporate it in his system. Therefore it remained useless.
Damien sat down at his desk chair again, after finishing making another cup of the blackest, strongest coffee he could find. He had to keep working. He had to turn those hazy, blurry lines in logic strings that connected everything together. He looked at his monitor but it kept getting out of focus, no matter how much he tried. His thoughts would stop making sense and weren’t connected with reality anymore. He was falling asleep. The deeper he would let himself go into his subconscious, the more vivid the images and thoughts would become.
He could see spirals, lots of them. Big ones, small ones. Some were moving, others were stopped but they all had something in common: they were all golden. After he was done falling through that vortex of golden spirals he landed on a beach. The sand felt warm on his toes and he noticed he was barefoot. The air had that fresh ocean scent mixed with something sweet that Damien was having troubles identifying – something floral, it seemed. He kept walking and he stepped on something hard and cold. Damien looked down and whatever it was, it glistened with the sunlight. He picked up and inspected it. It was a nautilus shell. He had read something about them before but he couldn’t quite remember it right now. Damien dropped the shell and looked around. For some reason everything was golden tinted.
"Why is everything so golden?" he thought as he continued to look around, shielding his eyes from the spiral-shaped sun.
In that moment he woke up, the dream still fresh in his mind with all the spirals, the shells and that golden light. Damien knew there was a connection there somewhere. And then he remembered – the golden ratio, of course. That simple pattern which kept repeating itself in nature around him, that was the connection.
He downed his cup of coffee, its bitterness waking him up instantaneously and went back to working on his computer. Once again his eyes were glued to the monitor as numbers flew in front of him, the connection now seeming almost obvious. Everything was logical now. Damien could almost see the spiraling thread that connected everything in the world. Everything had a purpose. There weren’t really coincidences. It was just mathematics.
It was finished. Finally he had created a system that could predict all the outcomes. A system that could explain everything that ever happened and everything that was ever going to happen.
Damien was now posed with an important question: what was he going to do with his new creation? In the wrong hands his system had the power to bring down nations. But it also had the power to predict natural disasters and, therefore, prevent thousands of casualties. He could even become a millionaire. But he wasn’t too interested in that. Damien had always thought that money was what corrupted our world in the first place and he wasn’t going to willingly help spreading the fire.
He didn’t know what he was going to do yet, but when he got up and looked outside his window again he felt at peace. Everything was connected.