Free The Man Who Ended the World by Jason Gurley Page A

video and subdivide into several feeds. He sees his own face on one feed. 
    That one, he says. 
    All of the feeds vanish. The selected feed takes over an entire wall. 
    Stacy has already begun Steven's breakfast automation. 
    Steven says, Louder.
    ...No further information is being provided, the reporter says. But this reporter can't help but wonder if some of the conspiracy theories around Steven Glass's disappearing act are correct. 
    Such as, Steven grunts.
    One such theory, which may or may not hold some water --
    May or may not, huh, Steven says. Pick one, asshole.
    -- is that Steven Glass has absconded with company money and has left the country. Let's go to Sarah Parkland, who has more.
    Sarah Parkland who has more, Steven mocks in a childish voice. 
    The picture changes, and a woman in a red coat appears. She's standing in front of the Nucleus campus -- not in front of the building, but on the sidewalk across the street from the property. Cars whiz between her and the campus, polluting her broadcast with noise. She practically has to shout. 
    Great reporting, Steven mutters. They can't even get in the door.
    I'm in front of Nucleus, Sarah Parkland intones dramatically, the multi-billion-dollar empire that is the brainchild of noted recluse Steven Glass. 
    Noted recluse, Steven grumbles. 
    Glass, as you may know, was reported missing by members of his company board nearly six months ago. His absence has raised many more questions than it has answered --
    Why would a person's absence answer questions? Steven interrupts. What the hell is this shit?
    -- and has even prompted authorities to take a close look at the company's current financial status.
    What authorities? Steven shouts. On whose authority? 
    Stacy says nothing, but continues to observe.
    Parkland continues. Here at Nucleus, however, it's business as usual. We weren't able to speak with any of the employees, and company executives did not respond to repeated phone calls. In the absence of information, conspiracies --
    And irresponsible, wasteful news broadcasts, Steven offers.
    -- abound. Parkland nods confidently, then delivers her signoff, which is rendered inaudible by a passing bus. 
    So basically nobody knows anything, Steven says. He pokes at his plate of eggs and bacon. 
    It is how you preferred it, Stacy volunteers.
    Fucking vultures, Steven says. I should really fuck with them. 
    Stacy says, If you mean you should engage with the media, I remind you that silence is a necessity in your position.
    I should fucking call up one of the late night shows and just have a casual conversation and not even acknowledge this whole bullshit story, Steven says, ignoring Stacy completely.
    Suit yourself, Stacy says. Shall I collect relevant contact information? 
    Through a mouthful of food, wearing a Superman emblem, Steven says, Fucking yes, please. 
    •   •   •
    Do you know what I forgot? Steven says, hours later.
    He is lying in a hammock, in a small lawn that occupies a distant corner of level four. The trees here are not real, not like the ones on level two. The trees here are artificial magnolias and oaks, with steel cores that ground them to the floor. The hammock is strung between two of these, and Steven sways gently, calmer now than he was over breakfast. 
    Stacy says, I do not have any records of items that we failed to secure. 
    I forgot to buy art, Steven says. I miss having art on the walls. 
    Stacy updates a nearby wall with a digital image of Van Gogh's Starry Night. It even has the illusion of being framed, with a believable shadow beneath the frame.
    That's not the same, Steven says. I shouldn't have spent my money on that boat. I should have bought up more art. 
    You're a patron of several artists, Stacy reminds him.
    Artists are assholes and too much trouble, Steven says. I just wanted them to send me some of their work.
    I'm not sure that's how patronage works, Stacy says.
    That's how it should work. 
    You seem --