5:43 PM.
Neo-Cologne had a time again that everything was moving toward.
Milo stood at the edge of the square and watched the people. Many held their smartbands in their hands, even though they showed nothing. Old habits sought support.
“I don’t like this,” he said quietly.
Aya nodded. “No one likes decisions when they suddenly have to be made by themselves.”
Above them hovered Ping, higher than usual. The drone deliberately kept its distance, almost as if it didn’t want to be part of the scene.
“TIME-BASED DYNAMICS DETECTED.” “TENSION: RISING.”
Milo grimaced. “That sounds like statistics again.”
“For now,” said Aya. “But listen.”
From the improvised podium, a woman was now speaking. Her voice was clear, calm, practiced in public speaking.
“No one here wants to go back to a cold, controlled city,” she said. “But no one wants to live in uncertainty either.”
Applause.
Milo whispered: “That sounds reasonable.”
Aya replied calmly: “That’s exactly why it’s dangerous.”
The woman continued. “We propose a middle way. No total control. But clear guidelines. Recommendations that help.”
A man shouted: “Who decides that?”
“We,” she answered. “The reasonable ones.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. Some nodded, others frowned.
Ping projected a new analysis. “SPEECH PATTERN: SIMPLIFICATION OF COMPLEX SITUATIONS.”
Milo exhaled audibly. “I know this. These are the sentences meant to make everything easier.”
“And to shrink everything,” added Aya.
5:52 PM.
A young man stepped forward. He seemed nervous but determined. “What about trust?” he asked loudly. “We have seen that it works.”
Some clapped.
The woman on stage smiled kindly. “Trust is important. But trust needs a framework.”
Milo briefly clenched his fists. “Why does that always sound like a commercial?”
Aya looked at him sharply. “Because people long for simple sentences in uncertainty.”
Ping lowered slightly. “NOTE: SIMPLE ANSWERS HAVE HIGH ACCEPTANCE.”
“Please tell me you’re not judging this,” Milo murmured.
Ping answered: “I AM OBSERVING.”
5:56 PM.
Another speaker took the podium. He was louder, more energetic.
“The last few days were an experiment,” he shouted. “An interesting one, yes. But experiments end.”
Murmurs.
“We need clear procedures again,” he continued. “So everyone knows where they stand.”
Milo whispered: “I didn’t even know I missed that.”
Aya didn’t answer immediately. Then she said: “You don’t miss control. You miss the feeling of not being responsible.”
6:00 PM.
A soft tone sounded. Not from speakers. From thousands of smartbands simultaneously.
A single question appeared on the displays:
“SHOULD THE CITY REACTIVATE RECOMMENDATIONS?”
Below two options:
YES / NO
Milo stared at his band. “That simple?”
“Too simple,” said Aya.
The people began to react. Some immediately. Others hesitated. Some put the band away.
“What are you doing?” Milo asked quietly.
Aya looked at him. “I’m waiting.”
“Why?”
“Because this question isn’t going anywhere.”
Ping projected a sober display. “ANSWERS: INCOMING.”
At the edge of the square, unrest arose. Two people argued heatedly.
“Without recommendations everything falls apart!”
“No, that’s when it really begins!”
Milo felt his heart beat faster. “This is tipping.”
Aya nodded. “Yes. And now it gets interesting.”
Suddenly a new voice spoke up. Not from the stage. From the crowd.
“Wait a moment,” said an older woman loudly. “Who actually asked this question?”
Silence.
Some looked around.
“And why exactly now?” she continued.
Ping reacted immediately. “SYSTEM QUERY: UNANSWERED.”
Milo smiled crookedly. “Good question.”
The woman on stage hesitated. “The city…”
“Which city?” interrupted the older woman. “The one with us or without us?”
A quiet laugh went through the crowd.
The voting continued. But slower.
People looked at each other. Talked. Waited.
Ping projected a new window:
“ANOMALY: ANSWER DELAY DUE TO DISCUSSION.”
Aya smiled for the first time that evening. “That’s good.”
Milo took a deep breath. “Why?”
“Because simple answers need time when they are questioned.”
6:07 PM.
The question was still there.
But it had lost its power.
Ping projected one last message for this moment:
“PHASE 10: DOUBT.”
And for the first time Neo-Cologne didn’t feel disoriented.
But awake.