‘Lo-Fi Pi’ by James Arkell
Godiva scowled at her reflection’s smudged eyeshadow as the spinner spun leisurely on the screen between them. Her chipped Mutant Vulture nail polish bludgeoned the mouse. The mouse ignored her talons. She regretted not asking for a simulator upgrade last birthday.
With a thunderous humph, that only her abandoned childhood toys could hear, she opened the CosmoVox interface…
Settings – Performance – Advanced – Resolution
…and set it to ultra-low. And she saw all that she had made, and it was very good. It looked kind of retro.
─── ❖ ─── ✦ ─── ❖ ───
A hurricane hurtled into Cheikh’s office, shaking the muggy Dakar air.
‘Yallah!’ Cheikh snorted into his hot touba as it splattered his pristine shirt. ‘Khady, look what you made me do!’
‘Sorry, but I’m far too excited to worry.’
Without explanation, Khady took her colleague by both hands and dragged him down the corridor to her office. ‘Move quicker, you won’t believe this.’
Khady swiftly scanned Cheikh’s sweaty brow and raspy breathing. Concerned, she slid a chair over. ‘You had better sit down for this.’
She pointed to her green screen.
Run #239 completed
pi = 3.142
‘Yes, we use that a lot here in the mathematics department. It’s called pi. It’s very handy for measuring circles.’ Cheikh’s sarcasm never failed to underwhelm Khady.
‘Funny boy.’ Khady crouched down and explained it like she would to her cat. ‘That’s it. The whole thing. It doesn’t go on forever. The other numbers are gone. Pi is rational.’
‘Nonsense. Run it again.’
Khady shrugged and pressed enter. Maybe run #240 was the charm.
Run #240 completed
pi = 3.142
‘What does it mean?’
‘That’s the exciting bit. I have no idea!’ Khady gesticulated wildly. ‘Objects can’t be round anymore. The universe might be pixelated. Just like in Minecraft. What I do know is that I’m telling everybody!’
─── ❖ ─── ✦ ─── ❖ ───
Khady heard Cheikh as he fumbled her door handle with open laptop in one hand and cup of touba in the other. She greeted his eventual triumph with a warm smile and a slow handclap.
He looked different. ‘Did your razor stop working when pi got smaller?’
Cheikh tutted and shook his head. He carefully placed his computer on her desk. ‘I thought you would be less annoying, now that you are famous.’
‘Famous?’
Her widening eyes focused on the screen. A grey man in a grey suit in front of a grey building was speaking.
‘We appreciate the basic statistical charting carried out by our satellite location in Senegal. However, we need to be realistic about how high-level theoretical breakthroughs occur. They require a level of logic and infrastructure only found in the top Western institutions.
‘We thank Miss Khady Diop…
Khady slammed her fist against the table. It stung. ‘That’s Professor Diop to you!’
‘…for her interest in this area and are delighted to announce a refocussing and consolidation of our facilities. A world-class Centre for Geometry will be created within our prestigious UK campus. This will be funded from cuts to our charitable outreach programmes, primarily in Dakar and Lahore.’
‘No.’ Khady slumped at her desk. ‘They can’t close us down.’
Cheikh checked his buzzing phone and ignored the message from his counterpart in Pakistan. He reached over awkwardly to pat Khady’s shoulder, ready for her gentle mocking. Nothing came.
A commotion in the courtyard drew them both towards the window.
Most of her faculty and students were there proudly hoisting flimsy white signs filled with strong black slogans.
DECOLONISE NOW!
REMOTE CONTROL: OFF
Khady rubbed the mist from the glass to get a clearer look. ‘How did they organise this?’
‘Bad news travels fast and we keep those placards handy. They come in more often than we would like.’
Cheikh shared a brief hug with Khady before they both ran down the stone steps to join their brave workmates.
They shared a banner and roared with all their hearts:
‘Keep your funding.
Keep your strings.
Galsen minds do better things!’
Cheikh allowed himself a little smile. Maybe it will be different this time.
─── ❖ ─── ✦ ─── ❖ ───
Godiva glanced at the screen with bored resignation. She had only let it run for half an hour. Sometimes she wished she had asked for a normal pet.
She shouted down to the kitchen, ‘I need a new simulator. This one is broken - they’ve gone racist again, Mum.’
Mum wasn’t a soft touch. ‘No, Goddie. You know we just bought a new car. We can’t afford any more of your games this year.’
With a portentous yawn, Godiva knew there was only one thing left to try. It was just like the dinosaurs all over again.
File – Exit – Apocalypse - …
Godiva considered her options.
… The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by
fire.
‘Yeah, that’ll do.’
[Click]
James Arkell wrote this story in response to the prompt The Things They Couldn’t Know, as part of September’s Just Write! short story competition.
