Silicon Princess

I first saw her in person at the tech conference in a crisp white suit, her jet-black hair a stark contrast to the pale white of her skin. She moved across the stage like water, keeping everyone transfixed with her hypnotic voice as she unveiled each of her company’s new products. Each one more breathtaking than the last. I’ve since seen that face many times online. She’d built that company on her own in just two years. It had floundered for years under the leadership of her adopted father, never fulfilling its potential. After his health started to fail, she took up the role of CEO, and quickly turned things around, picking up funding and investment as she went. Unlike many of the companies in Silicon Valley, hers actually made good on their promises, justifying those investments with quick product releases and fast returns. Her face, shining like moonlight, always accompanying all corporate communication.

 

Like many, I was drawn to her. I had to learn her secrets. After seeing her in person, I followed all her channels, desperate to pick up anything I could apply to my own career or my life in general. It was there she issued her challenge. Five impossible tasks for five eager apprentices. The prize? Her mind, her future. An equal partnership in the company she’d built. I was chosen along with four others. My task? To create the ultimate unbreakable encryption.  

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“If you can devise an encryption I cannot break in 24 hours, the prize will be yours” 

 

Her voice was melodious, her face reminding me of the stars themselves. It still haunts my dreams. 

For months, I've done nothing but work on this encryption. My apartment is a cave of discarded energy drink cans and takeout containers. Whiteboards cover every wall, scrawled with algorithms and mathematical proofs. My computer hums constantly, running simulations and tests. Everything I send to her gets sent back to me, broken in hours. 

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I see her everywhere. On every whiteboard, in every blink of the cursor. Sometimes, I even swear she’s in the room with me. I catch subtle hints of cherry blossom in the air, the moonlight at night moves shadows around me like the dancing of her hair as she walks. 

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But the code eludes me. I've tried everything. Quantum key distribution, homomorphic encryption, even esoteric mathematical concepts that most cryptographers dismiss as fantasies. Nothing is good enough. Nothing is worthy of her. It all gets sent back. 

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The others have all failed their tasks already. The AI ethicist couldn't create a truly empathetic artificial intelligence. The geneticist couldn't splice aging out of human DNA. The physicist couldn't create a stable lab-based wormhole. The neuroscientist couldn't map every neural connection in the brain. 

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I'm the last one standing, but my time is running out. 

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Sometimes, in my more lucid moments, I wonder if this is what she wanted all along. Not a suitor, not a partner, but a catalyst. Helping her push the boundaries of science in our desperation to win her approval. 

But then I remember the way her eyes softened when she looked at me, the tremor in her voice when she explained my task. There was longing there, wasn't there? A hope that one of us would succeed where all others had failed? 

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Or perhaps I’m just projecting. 

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The truth is it doesn't matter. I'm in too deep now. My world has narrowed to this single point of focus – the perfect, unbreakable code. My impossible task. My key to Kaguya's heart. 

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I turn back to my computer, fingers poised over the keyboard. One more try. One more algorithm. One more chance to prove myself worthy of a woman who fell from the stars. 

 

The cursor blinks. I begin again.