Jin gazed into the quivering turquoise depths of the pool and sipped his sweetened coffee in silence.
His residence was a penthouse on the forty-two thousand, seven hundred and eighteenth level of a celestial city, afloat in the stratosphere of Uranus.
On a gas giant, a planet bereft of a solid surface, a dwelling was by definition a floating pavilion.
Beyond the terrace, the lingering twilight of the Uranian sky unfurled. The rarefied sunlight receded, and the world slowly precipitated into a deep cobalt.
Jin reclined in a deck chair evocative of a summer resort, but, sensing a deficit of sweetness upon his palate, he reached for the side table. There, in a crystal glass bowl, lay a mound of transparent cuboids, each faceted like a gemstone.
Diamond Sugar.
He picked up a single grain and dropped it into his coffee. He took no milk, but sugar was indispensable.
The fortune dissolved in the time it took for that single grain to melt into the black liquid would suffice to purchase an entire terrestrial planet in a remote star system. Yet, to Jin, this was a matter of little consequence. Even on Uranus, this residential star of the affluent, he was counted among the wealthiest.
The nature of the duties he performed to acquire his vast fortune was a matter of the strictest secrecy—a secret kept, remarkably, even from Jin himself.
This, however, was not the result of some primitive, inefficient error of the old human brain, such as amnesia or a dissociative identity disorder. In an age where the very concept of the individual had dissolved, where the phenomenon of existence itself had been dispersed across multiple loci, the "Jin" who now savored his coffee was but a single facet of a colossal iceberg, emerged into view.
His true corpus, a computational domain, lay in a place beyond the reach of his own consciousness, where it flawlessly and perpetually processed tasks unknown to him. He was, one might say, but a single cross-section of a multifaceted existence arranged in a geometric matrix.
True to his configured appearance of a seventeen-year-old, his features were youthful.
His lithe form was draped in loungewear woven from a blend of soft silk and high-performance fibers. Though minimalist in design, shorn of all superfluous ornamentation, the elegant drape of the fabric with his every movement spoke eloquently of its fine tailoring and quality.
His field of vision was dominated by a stark and polished architectural beauty.
The terrace, composed of pale, monochromatic tones, was imbued with a serenity that made one feel as if they had stepped into a work of modern art. It was a space where the cold, industrial quality of artificial materials coexisted with a calculated warmth. Broad-leafed foliage plants, placed with care, added an organic accent to the minimalist landscape.
Against the canvas of the cobalt sky, the rectilinear structure of the mansion cast a bold and open silhouette.
And Jin was simply there, a silent component of this perfected world.
The pool, filled to the brim with turquoise-blue water, was utterly still, without a single ripple.
It was less a body of liquid than a polished sheet of blue glass. Jin gazed at its perfectly planar surface, his attention unwavering.
He had long resided in this mansion, yet not once had he disturbed that surface. The physical diversion of swimming held no interest for him. To Jin, this poolside was synonymous with a masterpiece in his collection—a mere object for contemplation.
He preferred the electrochemical fulfillment derived from inputting its perfect tranquility and color as data through his optical sensors to the physical pleasure of immersing his body in water. Such was his way.
In time, the humanoid robot himself, with the handsome features of a seventeen-year-old, gazing motionless at the scenery, assimilated into the tranquil tableau.
But even this seemingly eternal moment of appreciation had its maintenance costs.
To keep his thought circuits running required a regular supply of sugar and caffeine. The coffee at his side was not a magical, inexhaustible spring.
"Satoko."
Jin summoned his caretaker, a domestic humanoid robot.
From beyond the glass separating the terrace from the interior, an almost laughably archaic electronic beep sounded. *Pip.*