‘What'd you do, Sal?’ he asked her, mildly perplexed. He strung the fishing line and cast it into the rivulets made by the lapping water at the dock.
‘I just planted some seeds. In their minds.’ She looked at their little guy, nestled next to her.
‘What’s with the scuba helmet?’ Johnny asked her, looking at their son.
‘Just in case, we're on the docks, what if-?’
He grinned. ‘Okay, anyway, these seeds?’ he furthered her, reeling in the empty fishing line.
‘I'm sick of it, Johnny, everyone bitchin’ about skin color, ancestry, whose ancestors got here first. So I left some bait.’
‘Yea, like what Sal?’
‘Like…like bloodworms,’ she grinned, watching him rehook the empty line. ‘Just enough to scare everyone. I switched up their records. Now they don't know who’s related to who, who's got here first, who got adopted by who, what vaccine inserts they got, who changed their name a few generations ago.’
‘That's kooky, Sal.’
‘Nah, it'll be fine - AI got safeguards in, makin’ sure no one’s dating a family member or nothin’, but Johnny - their bellyachin.’ So annoying. Now they're all just cosplayin’ as each other.’ She smiled.
‘How soon do you think they'll figure it out?’
‘I dunno,’ she smiled. ‘Maybe by the time you catch that fish.’ She pointed to the sign next to the dock. No fishing. Lake to be restocked next Spring.