---
layout:          post
title:           "MAGP 13 - Futures"
date:            2024-04-25 15:00:00 # in UTC = GMT = London time
episode_type:      episode
tags:            []
voiced:          []
categories:			"tmagp"
podcasts: ["tmagp"]
title_prefix:	"MAGP"
prev_categories: ["tmagp"]
prev_prefixes: ["MAGP"]
prev_episode:	['012']
prev_episode_num:		['012']
prev_episode_title:		["Getting Off"]
next_categories: ["tmagp"]
next_prefixes: ["MAGP"]
next_episode:	['014']
next_episode_num:		['014']
next_episode_title:		["Pet Project"]
episode_title:   'Futures'
episode_number:  '013'
summary:         "CAT3RB4622-17092023-14032024<br/>Gambling (application) -/- self-destruction [voicemail]"
content_flags:   ["Self-harm and self-sabotage", "Attempted suicide", "Obsession", "Financial problems", "Addiction (gambling)", "Mentions of: vehicle accidents", "SFX: insectoid"]
acast_url:      https://shows.acast.com/themagnusarchives/episodes/the-magnus-protocol-13-futures
formats:
    Official PDF: https://rustyquillcom.sharepoint.com/:f:/g/ElFMfJSzHzRMhhWGghFX8E8Bg27o0_Amiemvu0Hqq8D6Yg
official:        true
# notes:          ""
---

#### ANNOUNCER

This episode is dedicated to Odin Panek -- Hello everyone! It's Odin, your nerd named after a Norse god. I hope you enjoyed the episode. I also hope you have a wonderful day, evening or night whenever or wherever you are. 

##### [Intro Theme]

#### ANNOUNCER

Rusty Quill Presents: The Magnus Protocol.

Episode Thirteen -- Futures.

##### [Music]

------

##### [Dial-up tone]

##### [A different atmosphere than usual -- soft piano music accompanied with pleasant murmurs of conversation]

##### [Liquid sloshes in a cup]

#### SAM

So what are we thinking? 

#### CELIA

Mmmmm. On the one hand, this *technically* counts as breakfast so I should *probably* go with something light, but on the *other*... I'm in the mood for rich and cheesy. Choices, choices. 

#### SAM

Hmm. Yeah, I must admit, it is kinda weird waking up then immediately going out on a dinner date. 

#### CELIA

Yeah, working nights is taking some getting used to. 

#### SAM

You seem all right. 

#### CELIA

You're not too bad yourself. 

#### SAM

_(flustered)_ I, heh -- uh...

##### [Celia laughs. A waiter arrives.]

#### WAITER

Are we ready to order? 

#### CELIA

I'll have the baked camembert and he's... 

#### SAM

I'll have the same, thank you. 

#### WAITER

Very good.

##### [The waiter departs.] 

#### CELIA

_(teasing)_ Alice was right -- it *is* easy to make you blush. 

#### SAM

You just caught me unawares!

#### CELIA

_(smiling, unconvinced)_ Of course. 

#### SAM

So you asked her about me? 

#### CELIA

Just doing my due diligence. 

#### SAM

And what else did she say about me? 

#### CELIA

That you don't know how cute you are. 

#### SAM

_(surprised)_ Oh! _(pleased chuckle)_ Well... 

#### CELIA

...and that you're an overachiever, obsessive, a bit repressed...

#### SAM

Okay --

#### CELIA

-- nosey, *kind* of a recluse --

#### SAM

_("please stop")_ Thank you!

#### CELIA

-- and __*very*__ easy to wind up.

##### [Celia lets out an amused breath]

#### SAM

...Well, she's not wrong, I guess. So -- who do I talk to to get a complete list of your flaws? 

#### CELIA

_(airily)_ No-one. I'm mysterious. 

#### SAM

Hmmm. Well, jokes aside, we should probably just get all of our baggage out on the table now. It's risky enough dating at work without adding bombshell revelations to the mix. 

#### CELIA

You want to start with the big stuff? Okay then.

##### [CELIA settles herself:]

I have a baby. Jack. He's just over a year old now. 

#### SAM

Cool.

#### CELIA

And before you ask, no, there's no dad on the scene, not even sure who he is. I had a... couple of wild years after I moved here. It was a really weird time for me, but somehow I got lucky enough to come out of it all with him. 

#### SAM

Fair enough. Do I get to meet him? 

#### CELIA

That depends on *your* baggage. Dish. 

#### SAM

All right, mmmm... No kids of my own. Both my parents are still around. I haven't worked up the nerve to tell them that I bailed on my last job yet. 

#### CELIA

They'd care that much? 

#### SAM

I was tested as a kid and, erm... they said I was "gifted," so mum and dad got a bee in their bonnet and enrolled me in every "enrichment" program they could find --

#### CELIA

Like the Magnus Institute? 

#### SAM

No. They... were the first ones that *didn't* want me. 

#### CELIA

That why you're so hung up on them? 

#### SAM

I don't know. Maybe? That definitely feels like when it all started. 

#### CELIA

When what started? 

#### SAM

Well, after that it all just went downhill. Didn't get into Oxford, so I went to Nottingham. I graduated but I missed a first by one mark. Then I went to work at a legal firm. I was there for years, hoping they'd eventually sponsor me for a law degree. 

#### CELIA

And...

##### [Sam sighs.]

#### SAM

I had a breakdown. Stress. There was an... *incident* at work. I... freaked out during a presentation. After that they "encouraged" me to move on and I did. Six unemployed months later and I took a job at the O.I.A.R. 

#### CELIA

_(slightly cautious)_ Alice hooked you up?

#### SAM

_(noticing)_ Yeah. Full disclosure, we dated at uni and stayed in contact after. I did my best to help her though her parents' deaths, but... after that we pretty much dropped out of touch.

According to her, she dropped me a line about the job after "the most pathetic vague-post she had ever seen."

#### CELIA

And now? 

#### SAM

Now she's a friend. An insufferable, obnoxious, know-it-all friend, but, yeah, just a friend. 

#### CELIA

...All right then.

##### [Pause. They both drink.]

#### SAM

That everything, we think? 

#### CELIA

Yeah. I did want to ask you, though... 

#### SAM

_(bracing himself)_ All right... 

#### CELIA

The cases at work. Do you think they're real?

##### [Beat.]

#### SAM

Do you? 

#### CELIA

I asked you first.

#### SAM

I... don't know. I hope not.

You? 

#### CELIA

...

I'm pretty sure they're real.

##### [Awkward pause. Then Sam shifts:] 

#### SAM

More wine? 

#### CELIA

_(smiling)_ Please.

##### [SAM pours. The call ends abruptly.]

------

<!-- #### 2. INT. MANAGER'S OFFICE -- NIGHT, LIGHT RAIN (MANAGER'S LANDLINE) GWEN enters the office and stands silent and shaking. Lena looks up calmly.  -->

##### [A landline beeps]

##### [A pained breath somewhere further away]

#### LENA

Can I help you, Gwen? 

#### GWEN

...

Is it my fault? 

#### LENA

You'll have to be more specific. 

#### GWEN

Bonzo. One of the cases. Did it really happen? Was it because of me?

#### LENA

Yes. Whatever horrible case you read, it happened.

#### GWEN

And am I responsible? 

#### LENA

...To a degree.

#### GWEN

...

Tell me why.

#### LENA

Sit. 

#### GWEN

I don't want --

#### LENA

Sit.

##### [Gwen does so, unsteadily.]

#### LENA

_(speech-like:)_ The world is full of opposing forces. Some benevolent, most not. In order for the wheels to keep on turning, all these forces need to be monitored and balanced. That is where we come in. 

#### GWEN

_(shaking)_ That doesn't *mean anything.* 

#### LENA

And yet it is the only explanation you're going to get, for now. 

#### GWEN

So what? We're the bad guys? 

#### LENA

We are... managing the "bad guys."

There should be an email in your inbox. We have another external that needs assignment. It's quite urgent.

...

_(quieter)_ Gwen? 

#### GWEN

_(brokenly)_ I'll sort it. 

#### LENA

Hmph. _(back to business)_ See that you do. 

------

##### [Static as the scene transitions]

##### [Suddenly, upbeat phone music]

#### ANSWERPHONE

Welcome to the Zorrotrade customer support line. This call may be recorded for training and monitoring purposes. Please select from one of the following options:

For sales enquiries, press one.

For technical support, press two.

For complaints, press three.

##### [Beep]

##### [Pause in the music before it continues]

We're sorry that you are not completely satisfied with the Zorrotrade app. Unfortunately, all our operators are busy at the moment. Please leave a message, including your account number and an explanation of your complaint, and we will contact you as soon as possible. Thank you.

##### [Dial tone]

##### [Someone takes a deep breath, holds it shakily, then exhales.]

##### [The exhale turns into a shaky laugh:]

#### DARRIEN

_(fast, intense)_ Listen, you thieving bastards, I want my money.

I don't *care* about your "suspicious activity" bollocks, I have burnt my entire life to the ground for this stupid bloody app and now you owe me my goddamn money. So, you can either pay up or I drop a line to the Ombudsman and tell them all about your little "Projection" trading. See what *they* make of it.

You can't just take my money, lock me out of your app, and then expect me to roll over. _(inhales furiously)_ I've been a user for *years.* Hell, I've probably invested more via this poxy little program than everyone else put together and what do I have to show for it? Eh?

__You *owe* me.__

So either give me my money or -- or I'll -- I'll...

##### [Beat. A soft beeping -- a heartbeat monitor? -- can be heard in the background.]

##### [An exhale.]

Is this meant to be, like, punishment or something? I'm not a bad person, all right? Wanting to be rich doesn't make you a bad person. Sure, most rich people are dicks, but most of them started that way. Hell, most of them got to be rich *because* they were dicks.

You don't even know me. I mean, sure, I went to public school, but I got there on a *scholarship,* and I worked my ass off. I hid it from the other lads, of course I did, otherwise they'd have ripped the piss out of me. One time I even faked a broken leg just to get out of admitting I couldn't afford a skiing trip. *Classic.*

'Course mum and dad weren't happy, but they'd been dirt poor their whole lives, so what did they know?

I *earnt* everything I got. Most of the other lads went to uni, Oxbridge and that, but not me. *I* had "the plan." While the rest of them were stuck translating Plato or whatever, I would be out there earning *bank.*

I took my entire student loan out and got straight to shorting using your app. This was back when it had only just launched. I struggled through your first janky interface, your *weird* background checks, all those damn glitches, but I stuck with it because unlimited margins and deposits was pretty sweet. Made some quick cash shorting failing startups, then used that to broaden into crypto, leveraged some EM ETFS, scraped up a few pennies, then started to go long on a few obvious winners like Omni and Sparkhub for some hedging. Easy peasy.

It was good. It was working. I'd meet up with the lads and suddenly I was the one buying the good stuff. And sure, money can't buy you love, but you'd be amazed what personal trainers, high end surgery, and hair plugs can achieve on a speccy little finance nerd.

##### [A fond snicker.]

Life was good. Bloody expensive, but good. _(inhale)_ I had a couple of close calls, sure, but something always came along. God bless Bitcoin, amirite?

So, yeah, then I got cocky and I bet against the big man himself. I shorted Dantex hard in 2020. Stupid, really, but the whole Zurich thing had wiped a bunch out of my portfolio and I got a tipoff from one of the lads, so... I went all in.

And no, I don't blame Zorrotrade for that. But it was a bad time.

I remember I was sitting on the deck with Oli, watching the sun set in the Riviera, and I was ready to close up shop. I grabbed my phone and started messing with the settings, looking to settle up. *That* was when I noticed your new, _(sarcastically grand)_ "Personal Projection Short Selling" feature. It was disabled, buried under advanced lab settings and covered in disclaimers without *any* explanation, but it still grabbed me. I had no idea what it was and there was nothing about it online. Just that one slider with the warning: "These settings are experimental and may not function as intended. User discretion is advised."

##### [He laughs.]

You really think that is enough after what you've done to me?

But hey, screw it, I figured I was already basically broke, what did I have to lose. I flicked it on and a new dialogue window opened with two words: "Investment Amount." Bear in mind that at this point I barely had a pot to piss in. So I put in my last few grand. Why the hell not?

The phone pinged and a little approving tick appeared, and then it was gone. Nothing else. I carried on drinking and passed out around 4am.

Oli kicked me shoreside in "Le Brusc" the next evening. He wasn't too impressed with the mess I had made of his guest cabin, and, let's be honest, we didn't really get on anyway. He dumped me at the dock with nowhere to stay and told me he'd send me a bill for the TV.

I tried calling up one of the other lads, but no-one was picking up. _(long sigh)_ That was when I checked the group chat. Turns out I must have run my mouth the night before because now Oli had told everyone I was broke. Apparently, they always knew I'd "end up back in the gutter, eventually."

I was just writing a proper response when my phone died. I'd been borrowing Oli's charger.

##### [A beep on the call]

#### DARRIEN

Yeah, I know I'm going long with this, but tough. You can just shut up and __listen.__

So it turns out that stepping off a yacht, alone, in some pissant fishing dock in the arse-end of nowhere, in the middle of the night with a thousand-dollar case and a lost look on your face is a good way to get yourself mugged.

##### [A long breath]

They took everything. The case, my watch, my jacket, even my shoes. But not my phone. Dunno why, it's like they didn't even notice it. Kicked the hell out of me, though. Talk about rock bottom...

It took a while to convince anyone to let me borrow their charger and call the British embassy. Took me even longer to get through *to* the embassy. They told me to go online for an emergency travel permit, and it was as I was applying for it that I saw a new email ping up from my bank app. "Deposit received."

I opened it and got as far as "Remaining balance: One hundred thousand and eighty three pounds, twelve pence," before I was back on Zorrotrade reading a notification:

"Congratulations! In recognition of your change in circumstances, your Personal Projection Short Sell has now been paid in full. We hope you invest again soon!"

Somehow, when I was pissed out my __skull,__ I'd used the app to bet against *myself.* And come out ahead. It didn't make any sense, but when I checked with the bank there it all was. Every penny.

Obviously you hadn't worked the bugs out of this Projection thing yet, but that's *your* problem. Not mine. It's not like I hacked it or anything.

Still, I knew it was probably a fluke. Time to call it quits. _(heh)_ Only, that's the thing with money. It multiplies, especially when you're good at finding loopholes.

Maybe I should have focused on *how* it worked, but the wheels were already turning. If by some bizarre twist this really was shorting against, what, my own life? I could make bank. I just needed to nudge things in a bad direction and the payout would grow...

And, no, it wasn't fraud. I checked and there's no regulations about it or anything, so like I said: your app, your problem.

I started with a couple of small tests. Nothing huge. I bet a thousand quid, then picked a fight with the biggest stranger I could. Eh, it cost me a tooth, but... four hundred profit. A good return, but it didn't cover the dental bill to get it properly fixed.

I tried again, this time betting 10k before renting a car (with insurance) and crashing it into a tree at speed. That messed my leg up pretty badly and I got a faceful of glass but I also got *50k* profit. __That__ was more like it. I spent a few weeks breaking myself, and sabotaging my life, in various ways, and by the end I'd banked a cool mil.

It was just so liberating, so *addictive,* literally cashing in my misery into *cold, hard cash.* So as the sun set over the harbor I opened the app again and dug straight through to the Personal Projection Short Selling box. "Investment Amount: One million pounds." You only live once, right? Again, the little ping and the tick. And then it was time to go for a walk.

I'd picked out the spot the day before, a cliff about an hour and a half's walk uphill near some old monastery or whatever called Notre-Dam du Mai. It had a decent view if you're into that kind of thing, but more importantly, it was high. Just high enough to really hurt me. Not enough to kill me. Or so I hoped, heh.

On the way I made a few phone calls. First to my parents, telling them that I never loved them and hoped they died horribly. Next I was on the group chat with the lads telling each of them *just* how many times I slept with their partners, even when I hadn't. _(amused)_ Then it was on to my socials, publicly declaring my affiliation with every messed-up ideology and psychopath I could find. I ran out of time before I could confess to robbing orphanages to buy drugs, but I think I made my point.

Then I got to the cliff. It felt much taller standing at the top. There was a surprisingly chill wind blowing across the edge, driven upwards from the sea, and that coupled with the sheerness of the drop gave me a moment of vertigo.

I hesitated. Was this really worth it?

##### [Silence.]

I jumped.

I woke up here at l'hopital Jean-Marcel, two days later. *Apparently,* I was in a medically induced coma since they found me. One leg was amputated and the other is full of pins. Cracked spine in two places, ruptured spleen, six broken ribs and a cracked skull. Every second hurts.

But when I woke up, I couldn't be happier.

I was alive, sure, but more than that I was *rich,* properly rich, __untouchably__ rich. Everything was going to be okay.

Everyone crowded me when I woke up, but I just kept demanding my phone, until finally one of the nurses gave up and handed it over. I had about a thousand missed calls, but I skipped straight to Zorrotrader.

I braced myself, looked down and there it was. Almost *fifty* million. But... there was a tiny symbol to the left of the figure. A minus symbol. And then I saw your notice.

_(read in a tone of growing outrage)_ "Your payment has been *suspended* due to *suspicious account activity,* including potential *insider* trading. Official bodies have been notified. Please repay your *outstanding balance* or prepare for Personal Adjustment."

__That__ was twelve hours ago, and no matter what I do I can't seem to get through to anybody. So, yeah, I need my money. I didn't do anything *wrong,* I just... used a loophole, that's all. You can't blame *me* for playing the system. _(a disbelieving laugh)_ Besides, I've got nothing left. Nothing.

So just, give me my goddamn *money!*

##### [Beat.]

Oh, right. Darrien Laurel. Account number 428813. 

##### [Upbeat music starts up again]

#### ANSWERPHONE

Thank you. You are being transferred to our adjustments department.

##### [Click]

##### [The music stops]

##### [On the other end of the line: metallic insectoid chittering, growing louder] 

#### DARRIEN

H-hello?

##### [The chittering grows even louder]

##### [A drilling sound, and then another]

##### [Darrien drops the phone with a clatter]

#### DARRIEN

Oh god -- what!? Nurse! NURSE!

##### [Darrien screams]

##### [The call is cut off with a beep.]

------

<!-- #### 4. INT. O.I.A.R. OFFICE -- NIGHT, DRIZZLING (COMPUTER).

SAM is quietly working. He's a little faster than he was but still hardly "dynamic." ALICE approaches.  -->

##### [Sam is typing on his workstation while humming to himself happily]

##### [Footsteps approach:]

#### ALICE

Coffee? 

#### SAM

'fraid not. I'm still catching up. 

#### ALICE

Yeah, that'll happen when you turn up late and half-trollied. 

#### SAM

I don't know *what* you're talking about. 

#### ALICE

Those cheeks don't lie! Either you're reading a *particularly* saucy case or someone had a cheeky tipple before work. 

#### SAM

_(pleased huff)_ There may have been some wine. 

#### ALICE

Come on then, how was it? _(dramatically romantic)_ Did your eyes meet across a crowded McDonald's --

##### [Sam snorts]

#### ALICE

-- or was it more of a crate of Buckfast under a bridge sort of situation?

##### [She gives a sarcastic, wistful sigh]

#### SAM

It... was nice. 

#### ALICE

_(normal again)_ "Nice," he says. Is she at least going to make an honest woman out of you? 

#### SAM

Alice, look, I'm not really comfortable talking to you about this. 

#### ALICE

_(surprised)_ Since when? 

#### SAM

It's just... I get that you might not love the idea of me seeing Celia, but... I just think we should keep things a bit more -- professional, now. You know? 

#### ALICE

_(flat)_ Professional. 

#### SAM

Sorry, bad wording, but -- you know what I mean.

#### ALICE

...

_(hurt and failing to hide it)_ No, you're right. I should probably stop getting tattoos of your face and return all your kidnapped pets... 

#### SAM

Alice --

#### ALICE

It's fine! I get it. I'll just, find a way to soldier on somehow, despite this crushing blow.

##### [ALICE shifts to leave.]

#### SAM

Alice, wait. 

#### ALICE

What. 

#### SAM

I just don't want things to get weird... 

#### ALICE

_(bitterly)_ Then you're in the wrong line of work. 

#### SAM

Yeah.

...

I'm sorry. 

#### ALICE

_(immediately softening)_ Yeah. Look, I'm... _(she inhales)_ happy you're happy. 

#### SAM

Thanks.

#### ALICE

But if you ever ask me to be professional again, I'm going to have to take a shit on your desk. 

#### SAM

That seems completely fair and reasonable.

##### [Footsteps as Alice departs] 

#### SAM

Hey... 

##### [She stops]

#### ALICE

What?

#### SAM

_(sighing)_ We spent most of the time discussing if they're real. The cases. 

#### ALICE

Sounds romantic. 

#### SAM

Mmhm.

So what do you think? Are they? 

#### ALICE

Does it matter? 

#### SAM

Yeah, kind of! If we're working for the Men in Black or covering up ghosts or whatever, then shouldn't we go to the *press* or... 

#### ALICE

Okay -- _(she walks back to where he is)_ a\) you're drunk, b\) you can't prove anything, and c\) you signed the official secrets act in your onboarding. And I know all your school friends say treason's "bussin'" and "fire," but it won't look good on your CV. 

#### SAM

_(arguing back)_ Yeah, but --

#### ALICE

_(with emphasis)_ Look, Sam, you really want my opinion? Sober up and stop trying to make an impact. Just do the job and take your pay. 

#### SAM

And what, just ignore what's going on *right* under my nose? 

#### ALICE

_(heading off)_ Pretty much. Keep it... *professional.* 

#### SAM

_(incredulous)_ I'm sorry? 

#### ALICE

It's okay when I say it.

##### [SAM sighs and goes back to work]

##### [The O.I.A.R. computer winds down.]

------

##### [Music]

#### ANNOUNCER

The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share-alike 4.0 International License. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall, and directed by Alexander J Newall.

This episode was written by Alexander J Newall and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims, with vocal edits by Nico Vettese, soundscaping by Meg McKellar, and mastering by Catherine Rinella with music by Sam Jones.

It featured Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer, Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid, Anusia Battersby as Gwen Bouchard, Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley, Sarah Lambie as Lena Kelley.

The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander J Newall, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton, and Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d'Raven, and Megan Nice.

To subscribe, view associated materials, or join our Patreon, visit rustyquill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us @therustyquill, visit us on Facebook, or email us at mail@rustyquill.com.

Thanks for listening.