He took the time to dial up an opiate surge and a norepinephrine chaser. He shuddered as the bliss hit his body, then stretched out his arms and legs as far as he could inside the car, arching his back and craning his neck, savoring those few perfect moments of pleasure coursing through every nerve fiber of his body.

I should always feel like this. Always.

The car brought him back around the block, parked itself in the garage.

There was something in the back of his head as he walked into the kitchen. Something Nakamura had reminded him of. It was on the tip of recall...

Then Anne greeted him with a kiss, and it was gone.

Anne had the final presidential debate playing live on the screen.

Senator Kim was speaking as Holtzmann entered. “…acknowledge that there are two very different ways Nexus is used, one bad, one good. We shouldn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.”

The audience applauded. Audience sentiment analysis numbers swerved towards the left along the side of the screen. Kim’s share price rose on the real-time market scrolling below the debate, and with it his projected odds of victory. Eight per cent. Nine per cent. Rising. For a moment Holtzmann felt a tiny bit of hope.

Stockton spoke after a pause. “Senator Kim’s right. Nexus is used in two different ways. First, as an addictive drug that damages the brains of children. And second, as a deadly weapon of terror.” Stockton paused. “Ladies and gentlemen, in my second term we’re going to stop both of those uses.”

This time the applause was thunderous, with hoots of approval. The sentiment line swung back hard to the right. Kim’s share price cratered as Holtzmann watched, his odds of winning dropping into the gutter. In the corner of the screen, the real-time electoral map turned even more red.

Holtzmann’s heart sank.

“Idiot.” Anne clicked the screen off.

“Which one?” Holtzmann asked.

“Both of them.”

His heart was heavy as they crawled into bed. The world seemed leached of possibility. He couldn’t imagine a happy future any more. He could barely imagine getting through this week. He lay there, his skin hot and his body cold and his stomach in knots until Anne’s breathing told him she’d fallen asleep.

And then he gave himself just a little more of that opiate surge. He felt something from it, some little bit of pleasure, but not enough. So he hit the mental button a second time. A wave of euphoria swept through his limbs and his chest and every corner of his mind, and for a little while his universe contracted to the deep sense of bliss he felt inside.