The Unexpected
Copyright© 2025 by Technocracy
Chapter 23
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 23 - "If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it; for it is hard to be sought out, and difficult." -- Heraclitus of Ephesus
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction Violence
Needham, Ma - 10:30 AM, 27 October 2007
Notices had been posted for several weeks at the front entrances to the bakery, barber shop, and the market. The ‘grand’ re-opening had been largely run by Miguel and the two workers he had hired. The news rapidly spread through the long-term members of the local community, or at least what remained after several years of gentrification. The locals were gathered to re-claim an important element of the neighborhood social life.
Miguel had spread a large banner over the awning, with Benny’s help, early in the morning. They figured that a few of the neighborhood would trickle in once the doors were opened. No one was prepared for the gathered crowd; Benny estimated the headcount of the early group to be over 50.
Benny had called the Needham police chief to give the local cops a heads up on the developing situation before the doors were opened, and to continue re-building his and SIG’s relationship with the various Norfolk County law enforcement agencies. The local gendarmes had returned to being receptive and supportive. But neither Harry, nor did Henry or Robert, hold any deep trust in the local police.
As Miguel opened the doors, Leo’s niece did the same for the barbershop. The people streamed in, anxious to have their local market and barbershop back, but also curious about the re-built interiors. Harry sat behind the new and larger meat counter and display, making commendable efforts to be useless, other than to sample the new local ales that Miguel has chosen to stock, mostly to target the new bourgeoisie.
As the day progressed, the changing customer demographic that streamed int and out, was noted by Harry.
“Ya see what’s going on, Benny?”
“What would be of any particular notice? People are coming in and buying stuff. We are back in business.”
“You’d make a lousy sociologist.”
“I will take that as a complement.”
“The Yuppies have finally figured out that you’re open. The natives have done their look-see and buying, now the carpet-baggers are staking their territorial claim. This is really tribal stuff, Benny.”
“Money is money, whether it comes from long-term locals, or the more recent residents. It is commerce; it is capitalism.”
“Geez, Benny. Remind me never to use you for a market analysis ... See that bunch over there? They’re the carpet baggers. Now look at them folk over there and just outside the store. They’re neighborhood originals. Watch how each type moves through the store and how the other group reacts.”
“I would prefer that you restrict your sermons to economic theory. Anthropology is ill suited to your commissioned talents.”
Harry acknowledged Benny’s recommendation by raising a salute to him with a partially-consumed bottle of ale, then draining the remainder. As Harry investigated the various alcohol brands in the cold storage display, Doris tapped him on the shoulder, anxiously getting his attention.
“Hey, babe. Ya decide to drop in and lend a little class to the joint?”
“Harry, look over there, talking to Miguel’s new kid. Is that who I think it is?”
A well-groomed mid-aged male stood next to the teenage employee, nodding his head, as the boy and the man exchanged unheard commentary. His balding head and greyed, partial beard gave the man an academically distinguished persona.
“Holeee mackerel! That’s freaking Taleb ... Nassim freaking Taleb. Is the man slumming or something? Ya know what? I’m gonna get my book signed and...”
Harry’s statement of plans were halted when Dr Taleb scanned across the store, then locked eyes with Harry. Harry stood, idiotically frozen, behind the meat display as Nassim Nicholas Taleb walked across the store, directly towards Harry and Doris.
“Doctor Spoons? I am...”
Harry interrupted the mid-eastern man’s self-intro, completing it for him, acting like a fan-boy amongst celebrity.
“You’re Doctor Nassim Taleb. I really liked ‘Fooled by Randomness’. It’s sorta been an inspiration for me.”
“I am honored, Doctor Spoons.”
“Geez, please, call me Harry. And this lovely lady is my wife, Doris. Uh, about your most recent book...”
“Ah yes, I see the reticence. Do not feel alone, Harry. Many a mathematician and economist has provided a critical review.”
“What was your objective with the ‘Swan’ book?”
“The specificity of uncommon events versus the general observation, and the shallowness of the human perception of such events as they occur. Or, as yourself and Doctor Harrison have indicated in your research papers, per the non-linear weighting assigned to unexpected statistical outliers. It is less technical than my ‘Randomness’ book. I did have to argue with my editors and publisher, as they, also, thought it somewhat macro, but I truly desired this book to be more approachable.”
“That does provide me insight into your rationale, sir.”
Dr Taleb looked around the store, not seeming to find what he was looking for.
“I was told that Doctor Harrison is also present.”
“Yep. He’s right over ... well he was. Wanna talk at him?”
“If it would be convenient, I would like to converse with both yourself and Benson Harrison. Could that be arranged?”
“Not a problem, sir. I’ll go and throw a rope around Benny.”
As Harry went in search of Benny, Dr Taleb gave a half-bow to Doris.
“It would seen that your husband did not complete our introduction, Mrs Spoons.”
“Please, call me Doris. To be clear, Doctor Taleb, my husband has followed your published works closely. I am certain that he will make a mad dash home to collect all of your books and papers for your autograph.”
“I am humbled, madame. Harry actually is quite the cowboy. I had always thought that MIT’s portrayal of Harry Spoons, as the ‘cowboy economist’, was marketing. Does he always wear that hat?”
“Yes, sir. To be honest, that is his better hat, in deference to our friend that owns this store. As for his cowboy imagery, that is an honest persona for Harry. He was born and raised on a south Texas cattle ranch.”
“Charming.”
“Some think that. But many of his economist colleagues have dismissed Harry as a country bumpkin slinging wild math.”
“Then they would be fools, Madame ... Ah, I see Harry has found Doctor Harrison, he is in front of the store.”
As Doris watched the animated conversation through the large plate-glass window, she became concerned, as it appeared that Benny was dismissive of Harry’s attempts to bring him inside.
The crowd had thinned out when Benny, Harry, Doris, Andrea, and Nassim Taleb sat at the tables in front of the small deli counter, as Harry pressed Taleb for more insights into his ‘Black Swan’ book. Taleb resigned himself to a revealing statement.
“Outside of the formalities of engineering and science, the consistency that you and Benson seek is a trap. And of course, it is true that a set of basic axioms works for mathematics, but not for the complex collections of edge cases that is formed of the human interaction. Thus, Black Swan is a not a research paper, it is a philosophy that attempts to examine human networks, path dependencies, path probabilities and the sources of corporate and political power.”
Taleb paused to hear Benny’s assertion as a question, one oft heard by Taleb, from practicing technologists and economists.
“Sir, do you believe that most people will read it as philosophy? The mass of humanity wants a deterministic treatment of this stuff. They want to know that their 401k will continue to increase. The want to find a decent index fund and let a third-party increase their net worth. They do not want to think about the mathematical eccentricities of equities and currencies. And I believe that most have read your last book are seeking these specific answers. They do not want Plato and Socrates.”
Harry, having always seen economics through both a mathematical and a historical lens, interjected his reply, as an ode to the obvious.
“But I don’t see how most readers can view that as the central thesis. Look at this in historical terms. Back in the days of commodity-based currency, demands for silver and gold were the principal delimiters for the era’s economic and transactional growth. Then, suddenly, as New World resources were exploited, they had a sudden, and really big, flow of precious metals coming into Europe. Then inflation kicked in. Similar situations happen throughout history. So, I’m gonna guess that we can infer that each mode of economic inflection, or change in the path of power, can be considered an edge case that is a ‘black swan’? Ya know, basic cause and effect stuff.”
Benny had not been goaded into any reply by Harry. He was waiting for Taleb’s response. So the esteemed statistical economist filled the momentary conversational void.
“That is true, Harry, but not the ‘black swan’ being referenced. To be precise, I believe that the primary driver of economic growth is the distribution of opportunity throughout society. But for that model, the society must be competent. Otherwise, a rentier will capture governance. Look at the Russian oligarchs, or in the United States where the technology giants have migrated to their insular bubble along the west coast. So what have we come to, at this point in western history? We have hedge funds, social mobility, and a concentration of competence that tends to limit the medium’s drive to improve one’s station in life. As a society, we will become greatly diminished, and the economy will further devolve into a zero-sum game.”
Harry, being a romantic, did not sit well with the zero-sum concept, thus voicing his alcohol-inspired dreams for an egalitarian economy that was not cruel.
“Ain’t gonna doubt you ‘bout the zero sum game, at least in terms of available paths for wealth distribution. My question is what will be the function of the ‘sum part’. So we got a society building all these technologies to ‘completion’, defined by when the utility of any new technology approaches zero. So we got nothing that can increase value? Nothing new to invent? That’s why we can’t do zero-sum.”
Nassim Taleb smiled at Harry’s vision of, or barriers to, equity. Taleb admired a man that could be coldly rational, yet still dream of a more just world. Thusly, he continued, throwing Harry a bone.
“A different argument is that as technology improves to infinity, wealth also becomes ubiquitous and potentially infinite. So even though no new technology is invented that is valuable, there is infinite wealth through abundance.”
Benny did not know if Taleb was trolling, or if he had read too much socialist science-fiction. To Taleb’s pleasant surprise, Benny sharply re-entered the conversation.
“And this would be the ‘Gene Roddenberry School of Economics’? The Star Trek humanist post-scarcity doctrine? ... Doctor Taleb, let’s look at the physics of computational limits. There will never be a transporter, or any device that directly transforms energy into an organized and useful item. Or any form of technology that provides an equal opportunity for the ‘average’ person. To extrapolate on that, our long-term future is extremely limited. As per se, I severely doubt that homo sapiens will ever leave the solar system. Thus, there can be none of your ‘infinite wealth’. In fact, your latest book contradicts any such human ability to evolve an economic utopia. We have lost, at the societal level, the ability to make logical and efficient decisions ... In fact, China may well be the last efficient economy that humans allow to develop, as it is against our tribal nature to let the more competent succeed. We have absolved ourselves to a ruling class of narcissists.”
The three academics were engrossed in their discussion, not noticing that the gathering of the locals around the table had continued to increase. The spectators remained quiet, keeping a respectful distance.
Taleb was somewhat taken back by Benny’s harsh visions of human capacities.
“But why would you say that, Benson? I am not talking of Adam Smith’s ‘invisible hand’. Is it not illogical to believe that a free society would not naturally seek an efficient market-place that benefits all?”
Benny could not determine if Taleb was conjuring pop-culture memes, or if he had chosen to ignore the realities of the human foibles per economics.
“That would take long term goals, sir ... Doctor Taleb, free countries do not have long-term consistent goals, almost by definition. They have elections instead, in which citizens indirectly determine the national goals and priorities for the next few years. Which, most likely, will change at each subsequent election.”
As Harry attempted an interjection, Benny waived him silent. He knew what his friend’s retort would be, and did not want to hear his views of a longer-term human reformation. Benny, with force, continued to state his premise.
“Now let us compare and contrast our ‘free society’; first to a general case, and second to the specific case of the PRC.”
Benny paused, noting the murmurs of those gathering around the discussion.
“In general, western society has evolved to serve the commercial interests of a few rather than the technical needs of many; indeed, as a people we are LeBonian cattle, not homo economicus, as predicted by the works of such writers as Rodenberry, or perhaps Arthur Clarke.”
Benny saw Taleb and Harry nodding heads in thought. Benny inwardly smiled, knowing that his assertions were being given due thought.
“For the specific case of China, we have a country ruled by engineers. Centrally controlled. Goal-oriented. Long-term planning. Maximum efficiency of designs for both production and resource exploitation. Intolerant of societal influences that would contradict their homogeneous culture and collective sense of purpose. Where purposeful actions of the individual are centrally directed to the betterment of the group. By your very definition, sir, China is humanity’s Black Swan.”
Benny, again pausing for effect, delivered his thesis statement.
“Whereas western economies are increasingly predictable and are easily manipulated. Marketplace efficiencies are designed to be acultural. The end-effect is that Western societies may no longer be capable of sowing the seeds for a Black Swan, or any other global market stimuli that would enable the next ‘big thing’.”
Harry was actually surprised. He had never considered a cultural-level ‘black swan’. He posited his question before Taleb could rebuke Benny’s dark outlooks.
“Whoa, ya saying that, because we did not foresee China’s rapid development, that makes it a black swan?”
“No, we did foresee this. We, and by ‘we’ I mean technologists, all saw it coming. But what did the American business and political leader see? Let us start at the beginning, with Nixon. Nixon only understood the extraordinary capacity waiting to be developed and directed for use by western capitalists. He thought that we could easily exploit China. Nixon, and neither did Kissinger, bother to make the effort to understand why Mao’s revolution had been so vast and complete. Nixon knew little of their society, and less of their culture. Nixon and Kissinger unwittingly enabled the development of a destructive and new global supply chain, with an unimaginable economic efficiency. This was all by the PRC central committee’s design. And to this day, very few western economists understand this logistical design. And neither do they understand China culture, at least not past any tourist’s edifice. That makes China the ultimate black swan. And, per Doctor Taleb’s last book, the only thing that humans can do about a black swan, is to assign a contrived cause and effect, long after the change has occurred.”
“Benson, I find your geopolitical views fascinating ... And, I have surmised that you have problems with my latest book.”
“I do not understand the psychology of philosophy, sir. I can only understand that which can be measured. I do take your premise, at least for human reactions and evaluations of supposed outliers, at face value. But this book, in contrast to your previous book, has no supporting data. It is rich in supposition and the verbiage of philosophy, but poor in any measurable, re-producible forms that could be used by technologists and economists.”
Henry squirmed, uncomfortable with Benny’s critique of Taleb.
“Tell me, Benson. How do your trading systems analyze, and use, these unique data subsets; that is, those that do not conform to a trajectory per the perceived norm, during turbulent trading periods?”
“Actually, sir, that is what our systems rely upon. Our systems must operate within a period of instability for maximum profit.”
“Exactly ... and precisely my point. Which is why my first investment firm did not fare well. We operated during a period of relative economic stability ... but that was then, it is not now. Yourself and Harry are not the only two that have recognized that the opportune moment is now. The western world has one more surprise remaining ... My distinguished colleagues, let us join our firms. The Black Swan of our lifetime is here.”
Benny, ignoring Taleb’s business proposal, made another assertion, wanting to force Taleb into objectively re-stating his thesis. Benny knew that it was a form of academic trolling, but this was a method of checks and balances for ideas.
“Your book indicated that most would not account for the outliers. But you are, at this moment, in recognition of the coming and sudden changes in economic conditions? Is there a balanced interval to be made from this?”
“My good Doctor Harrison. What is coming, in the short term, started almost five years ago. What is coming in the long term, started almost fifty years ago. There is no suddenness to these conditions. There is only the suddenness of human recognition and reactions to these conditions.”
Benny looked to Harry for his signatory sarcasm. Hearing nothing other than a curt nod in his direction, Benny had but one other question.
“Doctor Taleb, who sent you? You did not come of your own volition.”
“A rather grim military man directed my attentions to your company. He advised me to read all four of yours and Harry’s theses, and the associated undergraduate papers.”
“Colonel Stewart?”
“That would be the man. It can be assumed that you have made his acquaintance?”
“Harry and myself are familiar with the colonel. It could be said that we are much too well acquainted with Stewart.”
Needham, Ma - 4:15 PM, 31 October 2007
Benny looked to the place that Mrs O’Leary would normally sit, thinking that he would check up on her after he had done his best attempts at convoluting the quest at hand.
The D&D session was Lizzy’s first social outing since being sent home from work. Her anger still flashed and burned, but she had learned to be more self-aware. Her therapist had discouraged her punching-bag work-outs, while pointing her toward yoga and meditation. Although Lizzy did continue her daily sessions of beating the bag, she also embraced the mindfulness of meditation and the serenity of yoga.
Mike Frothers, Harry, Benny, Doris, Andrea, Lizzy, and for the first time, Jerri, had gathered for another D&D quest, made special by playing on the Day of the Dead. After almost four hours, the dungeon master, Benny, was making his diabolical intentions known. The disastrous end was nigh.
“ ... well, if that is your path, where are you going?”
Harry ignored Benny’s question, reaching for the large porcelain container containing someone’s diabetic disaster.
“Stay away from the Halloween-candy bowl ... You are burning twilight. Single die, Harry. We await your roll.”
The roll having been made, Benny raised a ‘Spock’ eyebrow to his friend before eviscerating Harry’s character. Andrea and Lizzy exchanged smirks per the resultant, regardless of the effects to the joint quest.
As Harry rolled the die again, a Needham Fire Department EMT truck rolled by, lights flashing. All members of the quest stood, following the path of the emergency vehicle. As Jerri tracked the vehicle, she pulled her radio and phone out of her pack, made a call, then issued commands to the group.
“It’s turning down the alley ... I need everybody back inside ... Now! Let’s go, people!”
Jerri herded the players into the market, locking the front doors. Talking into her phone, then relaying the a message into her radio as she re-seated the earpiece.
“What do we have, Jerri?”
“Someone called 911. Originated from Leo’s”
“The barbershop is closed. Makes no sense...”
As soon as Benny had made the declaration, he realized that the address for Leo’s shop was also the address for Mrs O’Leary’s apartment, as it sat directly above the building.
“ ... no ... it Mrs O’Leary. No...”
As Benny turned to make a quick exit through the rear door, Jerri raised her voice, commanding Benny.
“Doctor Harrison! Remain inside! The colonel is next door. Let him investigate.”
Saint Mary’s Cemetery, Needham, Ma - 03 November 2007
Benny found it ironic, almost comical, that a woman of jewish origin had been given the Catholic last rites. What was more ironic, was that she always made the motions, enjoying the ritualism, but had never held the faith. As the priest droned on, continuing the rote procedures that had started in the church building, Benny thought of the many evenings that Andrea and himself had enjoyed with the old lady. For some unfathomable, and illogical reason, Benny had convinced himself that Mrs O’Leary was going to live forever. Benny figured that 98 years was as close to forever as anything. It gave Benny, but a wan sense of comfort, that the woman had lived independently, on her own terms, to the very end.
As the priest droned on next to the freshly dug hole in the ground, Benny pulled Lizzy closer to his side with one arm, as he placed his other arm over Andrea’s chest. Andrea leaned back in her wheelchair, seeking closer contact with Benny. They stood behind the front row of Mrs O’Leary’s relatives, all looking disinterested.
The crowd that had gathered around the grave site was not small. Mrs O’Leary had developed a large network of admirers and friends, having been a neighborhood fixture for almost 60 years. Some faces were damp, but many were more sanguine, filled with their memories of a grande dame.