Isaac worked as a computer systems analyst. His prospects were good. He had learned his skills from a young age. When he was a child he had loved gaming and had begun programming. He had excelled at school and studied biochemistry at University but his real skill was programming. He had designed games for his own amusement. His job of restructuring business models was relatively simple. No fantastic graphics were required just good organisation and efficient process. It was not virtual reality. He worked for a large corporation who harvested information from social media to assess the likes and dislikes of their potential customers. Would they be inclined to buy the new Fizzoliscious. It seemed so. Ten million units were scheduled for production and a major advertising campaign launched. Distribution would commence in two weeks. He retreated to his game. Survival in the Kalahari desert could be difficult. Resources must be used carefully. Lessons learned from the indiginous San people were vital and unexpected attacks from cheetahs, hyenas, wild dogs and giant eagle owls could be fatal. His progress was good. He arrived at the oasis and drank. He relaxed. He was tired. It was late. He turned off the computer and decided to go to bed. Tomorrow he had a meeting. He would smile and be amenable. He was not a dynamic socialiser. He did not make or break deals. Well dressed executives in tailored suits would expound the vision and progress of the company. He would observe and take into account the expected and projected goals. He lay in bed till after nine as the meeting was in the afternoon and only a short tube journey away. He turned on the radio to catch the ten o’clock news. A car bomb had exploded in central London. Ten people had been killed. It was not a good day for a meeting. The stock market had crashed. He took a long hot shower, ate a light lunch and decided to cycle to Canary Wharf. Few people had arrived. Their chief representative opened the meeting by welcoming those who were able to attend and apologised that due to unforeseen disruptions not everybody was present. He was sure that with the continued input from Oxford Analysis the launch of Fizzoliscious would be an outstanding success. The chief representative of Fizzoliscious slowly rose to his feet. After a reflective pause he came to the point. Considering the recent economic downturn could Oxford Analysis still guarantee the projected sales upon which their fee was dependent? Did they have a contingency plan? The chief executive of Oxford Analysis turned to Isaac. Isaac did not have a plan. Terrorist attacks were not part of his economic forecasts. After a pregnant pause he gave an answer. He believed that the present model of information retrieval could be adjusted to positivise the situation. His chief executive had every faith in Isaac’s abilities and believed the current detriment could in fact be turned around to improve the competitive advantage of Fizzoliscious. Due to slim attendance the meeting came to an early finish. Isaac discretely slipped away. It had not been a good day. How could he provide structure to optimise sales to a nation in mourning? He arrived home and drank herbal tea. He retreated to his game. He drank clear water at the oasis. Refreshed and relaxed he decided to embark on a new mission. He must travel across the open desert to the bantu speaking tswana people. In the cool evening air he walked barefoot on the sand. His troubles drifted away on the gentle breeze. He forgot the dangerous predators. An eagle owl silently glided down and outstretched its talons to take a sideward swipe at Isaac’s neck. The sharp claws tore open his jugular vein. He collapsed to the ground. The crimson pool quickly darkened as the blood soaked into the sand. The image faded. Game over.