The Probability Shift

The offer

Eugene Blake reclined in his wheelchair occupying the back of his limousine, the heavy curtains drawn to block out the cacophony of the city streets. His face, partially obscured by the shadows, betrayed a hint of impatience as the vehicle navigated the congested lanes.

Finally, the limousine pulled to a smooth halt, and Blake's aide opened the door, a special platform slowly delivered the wheelchair onto the cracked pavement of a rundown industrial district. A grimace flickered across Blake's features as he surveyed the dilapidated warehouses and graffiti-streaked walls surrounding them.

"Are you certain this is the correct location?" he demanded, his tone clipped.

The aide nodded deferentially. "Our sources indicate Dr. Craft has converted one of these abandoned facilities into a makeshift laboratory, sir."

Blake grunted in acknowledgment, steering himself as he approached a nondescript steel door set into the side of one building. His aide rapped his knuckles against the weathered surface, the hollow metallic clangs echoing into the shadowed interior.

After a tense moment, the door creaked open a few inches, revealing a sliver of Kevin Craft's haggard face.

"What do you want?" The scientist's voice was laced with wariness and fatigue. His eyes flickered when he recognized the businessman.

Blake offered a thin smile, refusing the man's disheveled appearance to deter him. "A proposition, Dr. Craft. One I believe will be mutually beneficial to us both."

Kevin's eyes narrowed, he could rush onto Blake and end his life right here... That would not bring Vanessa back, though. Instead he pulled the door open wider, allowing Blake to cross the threshold. The dim interior proved to be a veritable maze of salvaged electronics and makeshift equipment, the air thick with the tang of ozone and solder.

"I don't need your money, Blake," Kevin growled as he led the way deeper into the temporary lab. "Whatever you're peddling, I'm not interested."

"Oh, but I think you'll find my offer quite... intriguing," Blake countered smoothly. "Unlimited resources, Dr. Craft. State-of-the-art facilities, a team of the world's most brilliant minds at your disposal. All to continue your groundbreaking work with predictive modeling."

Kevin froze, his back stiffening almost imperceptibly. With the access to the UN super computers lost, he was in dire need of resources. Blake noted the reaction with an inward smile.

"You see, I recently became aware of your... professional difficulties with the United Nations," Blake continued, his tone carrying a hint of feigned sympathy. "A mind as exceptional as yours deserves better than to be shackled by bureaucratic short-sightedness."

Turning slowly, Kevin fixed Blake with a penetrating stare. "And what, exactly, would you want in return for this... generous patronage?"

The barest hint of a smirk played across Blake's lips. "Why, to reap the benefits of your research, of course. The potential to predict markets on an unprecedented scale is quite appealing for a man in my line of work."

For a long, weighted moment, Kevin remained utterly motionless, his expression unreadable. Blake felt a fleeting twinge of uncertainty—had he overplayed his hand?

Then, finally, Kevin spoke in a low, measured tone. "You want to use my work for insider trading. For market manipulation on a massive scale?"

His mind rapidly grasped the possibilities offered to him. Yes Blake was responsible for Vanessa's death, yes he would pervert his research for lucrative gain... But he had access to labs, experiments, prototypes and technologies that could mean finalizing his actual work and saving Vanessa.

Working for the devil himself, lying on his true intentions, playing and manipulating him? Kevin was not feeling it, not at all. How could he foil a deceptive business giant for whom cheating and lying was second nature, while he himself struggled with basic social interactions?

Blake opened his mouth to respond, but Kevin barreled on, his words clipped and laced with a simmering intensity.

"I'm listening... My work is too important to end with my employment." His voice sounded smug, a tinge arrogant.

Blake smiled, "I hoped you'll see it this way, Dr. Craft. I felt that behind your... moral inclinations, laid a man ready for everything to achieve his goals."

Kevin stared at theaide down to Blake, a cold, impassive and emotionless look. "Oh... Don't worry, Iintend to achieve my goals Mr. Blake, by any means necessary."