“Yes,” Merl says, sitting back in his chair. “Because the people on the other side feel just as strongly about their position. Your refusal to accept other people’s perspectives is what keeps us all trapped in our own—you don’t have to agree with it in order to accept it.”
Dan is watching our byplay like a tennis match, his gaze flicking back and forth. “But why not just do away with the concept of money?” he asks.
Merl and I both turn to him. “What?” Merl asks, echoing my own thoughts.
“Look.” Dan adjusts in his bed, shifting to sit up a little straighter. “There is a movement that is trying to undo the damage of money.”
“Money is inert,” I say. “That’s like accusing all those prison buildings for high incarceration rates.”
Dan’s head dips from side to side. “But let me ask you a question: if we didn’t have so many prisons, would we lock up less people?”
“I guess, but would the world be safer?”
“That’s not the question,” Dan says. “Without prisons, we wouldn’t have prisoners. So without money, we wouldn’t have wealth disparity.”
“But how would we exchange goods and services of different value?” I ask. “How would Joyful Justice operate without our investments that create income? Can you really get rid of money?”
“Maybe,” Dan says. “I’ve been invited to a meeting to try to figure that out.”
“What?” Merl again speaks my thoughts aloud.
Dan sighs again, as if he is trying to explain fire to a caveman. “You know the hacking group Anonymous?”
“Yeah,” I say. “You’ve worked with them on projects before.”
Dan smiles like I’m cute and naive, again. “Yeah, I’ve worked with them.” He makes it sound like he’s done more than that.
“You’re a member,” I guess.
“No duh, Sydney.”
“You don’t have to be rude,” I say, teasing in my voice.
Dan laughs. “I’m involved in the community,” he says, a big smile on his face. “And I’m also involved in crypto and blockchain technologies—I’m an architect of several coins and technology in that realm. My main concern being the environmental impact.”
“Right,” Merl says. “That makes sense.”
“Not to me,” I say, feeling like a kindergartener at the college lecture. “Come on, guys, you know I’m deeply confused about the internet and how it works. The image in my mind is like a bunch of pneumatic tubes all sending information around.”
Dan laughs. “I mean, you’re not totally wrong…while also being completely incorrect.”
“I’m going to say that’s a state I am often in.”
We all laugh at how much I do not know about the world and how information travels through it.
“I think you should come with me,” Dan says. “To the meeting. Hear what these folks have to say.”
“Okay, when is it?” I ask.
“About a month.” Dan gestures to his cast. “This thing should be gone by then.”
“Where is it?” I ask.
“Not sure yet.”
Dan turns to Merl. “Do you want to come?”
“Let me think about it.”
“Okay.”
A knock at the suite door draws our attention. “Come in,” Dan calls. His second-in-command, Rebecca, enters the room. She’s wearing a collared T-shirt and board shorts, a bandanna around her neck. Her short hair is spikey with salt water. “Hey, Rebecca,” Dan says. “Have you met Merl?”
Merl stands. “Not in person,” he says.
“Great to meet you,” Rebecca says, taking his proffered hand. “Sorry to break up this party, but I think there is something you need to see,” she says to Dan. He turns to his screens. “It’s in the Panther Discord.” His mouse clicks as he navigates.
Dan’s eyes scan as he reads. Then they rise to mine. “Sydney,” he clears his throat. “Do you have any idea why Robert Maxim would be buying up cryptocurrency?”
I shake my head. “Dan, I hardly even know what cryptocurrency is…”
Sensing Rebecca’s gaze, I turn to her. She is looking at me like I just said I didn’t really understand what that big burning ball in the sky is. She blinks, recovering.
“He is doing something big and hiding it pretty damn well…”
“Well, someone figured it out,” I say. “It’s on whatever Discord is.”
“It’s a private chat app where you can join threads on different topics hosted by individuals—sort of like a Facebook group.”
