He leaned back, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had just secured four million cubic feet of the stuff. Somewhere hundreds of miles away, massive automated valves groaned open, sending a rush of ancient, pressurized energy surging through the steel veins of the earth toward his home.
"Now," he grunted, slamming his thumb onto the biometric scanner. "Buy. Full allocation. Spot price." The screen whirred. Processing... Transaction Confirmed. buy natural gas
The year was 2042, and the "Great Transition" hadn’t been as smooth as the brochures promised. In the high-altitude colony of New Denver, survival still hummed to the tune of blue flames. He leaned back, his heart hammering against his ribs
He didn't celebrate. He just walked to the window and looked out at the darkening mountains. In a few hours, the Sector 4 heaters would click to life, a quiet blue roar ensuring that, for one more month, the cold stayed on the other side of the glass. "Now," he grunted, slamming his thumb onto the
Elias watched the flickering candle charts. Natural gas was a ghost in the wires now, rare and coveted. He had a budget of forty thousand credits—the collective savings of teachers, welders, and nurses. If he missed the dip, they’d be wearing parkas indoors by Tuesday. "Wait for it," Elias whispered.
Pip flashed a green checkmark. "Delivery scheduled for 04:00 hours. You saved them six thousand credits, Elias."
"Price is spiking," his AI, Pip, chirped. "The pipeline at the Nebraska junction just reported a pressure drop. Algorithms are panic-buying."