Lightning Fate
1. Lightning Strikes
Some things never change and some things always change, and some things are left to human hands. What would you do? A man by the name of Aristonicus native to the United Kingdom lived in squalor and had a lot of debt. Living in the city of Kingston in the south of the country, the year was 2029, Nigel Farage had been elected prime minister and the country was in a debt crisis. Poverty was high, many cities were in squalor and many more people were not living well. Immigrants had been blamed for the many problems and the previous labour party being about as popular as polio had made people react by voting what they deemed contrary opinions. Aristonicus was in debt, he had gambled away some money, borrowed some and invested in dodgy quick rich schemes; instead of wealth he had debt and no allies except a likewise hopeless rabble rouser who was also very broke. £500,000 in debt, and growing, the debt growing exponentially from some loan sharks who were not inclined to be merciful. Matho was a leftist, a libertarian possibilist by all accounts, a man who believed that government could be done away with; but that required consent, just like any government technically requires consent to govern, the opposite is also true, no one can do something away without first having the numbers to do it. Aristonicus listened to his friend, but he did not fully believe in it, in his mind he was more of a believer in government, the “world would be better off investing in science” a phrase he repeated many times to the agreement of Matho; but he had no resources to make the phrase come true. Matho critiqued hierarchies, and found them unnecessary if not outright damaging.
Both men had brown hair, although Matho was skinnier and Aristonicus had an almost bald cut. Aristonicus was a marginally shorter man, although both men were of medium height, not excessively short, but not particularly enormously tall, Aristonicus was 1.80, Matho was 1.83 metres tall. Despite bad financial situation, Matho ate relatively well, trying to maximise the amount of fruit and vegetables while Aristonicus attempted to copy his friend. Aristonicus had a greek nose, and particularly visible cheek bones, Matho had a more latin nose with Eastern European looking hair with a widow’s peak. Matho worked in a hotel, Aristonicus was currently out of work, searching for a job.
“You know you should find a job, if those loan sharks don’t get something back, they’ll kill you, you know!” Matho warned his friend, “I just have rent to pay and barely any savings, you? Well you have less than nothing.”
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“Thanks for the advice, I’ll be sure to take it,” Aristonicus said sardonically, “when I magically get a job because of all the deported immigrants, I will be sure to pay them back.”
“Don’t get me started on that conman.”
“Prime minister,” Aristonicus corrected with a sigh, “the man who helped make the economy shit now get’s elected… it’s too stupid.”
“And yet people voted for it,” Matho said, “first past the post.”
“Anyway, enough talking politics, it’s depressing.”
The news played in the background on Matho’s phone, the whole of Europe had turned into nationalist hell holes, blaming one particular problem: immigrants.
It was the 1st of January 2030, the UK labour party had been booted out having presided over a rather miserable 5 years, the previous 14 were equally terrible, but the country’s problems had been blamed on immigrants. The UK left the EU after a particularly divisive referendum where slightly more than half the voters chose to leave, the social democratic party of the UK the labour party went through some turbulence to put it mildly, and was then led by the greyest of grey characters ‘Keir Starmer.’ Taxing farmers, freezing pensioners, putting up tuition fees, letting energy prices rise, and then increasing indirect taxes turned out to be unpopular; but the mood against immigrants had been set a while back. Nigel Farage and his Reform Party swept into power with 35% of the vote due to skepticism of the Labour Party and Conservative parties’ abilities. The Reform Party had introduced various tax cuts for wealth people, while simultaneously trying to deport immigrants. Whatever faults the previous government had, they reduced the deficit to £80 billion from £130 billion at the cost of power and respectability, the current government did not give it, instead forking out £100 billion on tax cuts to attempt to appease the mega rich. It worked, somewhat.
Aristonicus was mega poor and walked from his apartment in Kingston (upon Thames) in London toward the supermarket near to him an Asda that was a 9 minute walk. It was night and it was England so the weather was naturally shitty, and upon stepping off the metal stairs and into the street, not thieves, hoodlums, police or even a bad driver that hit him, but lightning itself. No one was there to witness it, and Aristonicus was astonished at the event that transpired. He had heard of the lightning tattoos that befall anyone who gets struck by lightning, being singed or having boils on the skin, but instead there was nothing, nothing discernible at all. He rubbed off his tracksuit and checked for the money that Matho had just given him.
No one is going to believe me. No one.
He picked up his phone from his trousers, and his phone that was perennially out of battery was now on full charge. He grinned and laughed, but didn’t understand how it was possible. He didn’t quite realise it yet, but reality itself was about to change. He dusted himself off, and went to the Asda as promised. ‘Fifty shades of grey’ was a particularly apt metaphor for the nature of British residential life, of course there was green here and there, but the country had one cloud that seemed to dominate the sky, and badly constructed residential buildings that were to put it mildly uninspiring. The finances were bad, but Aristonicus was about to tweak his destiny.