When Vic and Tamsin Consoli moved to Fermoy in 2025, it was a fairly quiet city mostly inhabited by Cork commuters who wanted to leave in a quiet place, just far enough from the frenetic lifestyle of the city.

Of course calling Cork frenetic wouldn’t really be fair to those folks living in cities like London, or New York, but for Ireland, Cork was the second busiest place you could live in, no doubt.

Tamsin had family over there. Her uncle Patrick and his wife Mary lived in a big independent house on the outskirts of Fermoy; a house Patrick mostly built himself over the years, so that they could live comfortably with their four kids. Of course, by the time he actually finished the place, all their kids had moved out. Not only out of the house, but rather out of the continent: three went to Australia (in different cities of course, just to make things more exciting), and the nearest went to France.

As a result, Patrick and Mary were always quite glad to put up Tamsin and Vic for a week or two, whenever they wanted to visit. And they did, from early 2000s onwards, once every two years, on average.

The last time they visited was in 2025, just a week before the Pulse. They went over there when Fae was five and Finn was still (barely!) in Tamsin’s belly. When the Pulse happened, everyone was stranded wherever they were: especially inter-continental travel became extremely impractical (if not impossible) for a good few years, so Tamsin and Vic ended up as de facto residents at Patrick and Mary’s.

Over the years, a few of Tamsin’s cousins did come to visit, an a few times Patrick and Mary embarked (literally) in long journey to meet them and their grandkids, but none of them manifested any interest in moving back to the family place in Fermoy. As a result, when Tamsin’s uncle and aunt eventually passed away, many years later, no one objected to Vic and Tamsin actually inheriting the place.

Much in a similar fashion as many years before, when the two actually inherited the big house for themselves, both Fae and Finn had moved out to rental flats in the city, with their respective roommates, Jenny and Matt. So once more, the big house at the outskirts of Fermoy had most of the bedrooms empty most of the time. Except when there was a family gathering, at Christmas, New Year’s, Easter, plus birthdays. Tamsin especially didn’t mind cooking and having people over, and any excuse was good to get someone to visit.

That Saturday, they were going to celebrate Fae’s 30th birthday, so it was kind of a big deal: it wasn’t every day that their little girl reached an important life milestone such as that. As parents do, Vic and Tamsin were of course hoping for grand kids at this point (they were both in their sixties), but their little girl seemed very focused on her job these days, and their little boy… well, he was possibly more promising in that department, in the sense that he was more focusing on girls than his job at least, but there was still no talks of anything serious, never mind kids.

Fae explicitly said to her parents she didn’t want a big thing: throughout her life they loved organizing parties with all her friends, but this time she strictly told them to just keep it to a minimum, and get only a few very close friends over. It was weird to think that they didn’t really have contacts with actual family members these days, but it was understandable, as there were only a few cousins of Tamsin’s left in Ireland, and they were mostly doing their own thing after most of their parents passed.

Anyhow, in the end there were going to be ten people for lunch that Saturday. The first to turn up were Keira and Duncan. Keira studied literature at UCC and she was originally going to pursue journalism like Fae, but when she met Duncan right after graduating she went for “the easy way” (as Fae put it) and decided to start teaching English at middle school. She was a nice and very Irish-looking redhead with green eyes and fair skin who used to turn a lot of heads back at uni (and still did especially now amongst both teachers and students) and she had just turned 30 a few months earlier. She had a pretty smile and enjoyed a wee bit of conversation as her more geeky Scottish husband Duncan used to say. The minute you got her started, there was no stopping her, whether you were talking about education, hurling, farm animals, or anything else really: her gift of the gab always came in handy, especially at parties and potentially awkward dinners.

Duncan, on the other hand, was completing her, being more of a quiet, introverted type. He had studied Electronic Engineering at MTU, took a master in EMP-resistant 8-bit CPUs with the idea of getting into hardware manufacturing in the private section, which became very promising in Cork area after the Pulse, but then decided to stay at MTU and became an associate professor. He looked the part as well: in his late 30s, long hair turning gray caught in a pony tail and a healthy beard to match, a small pair of glasses, not really a body builder frame, one could say… still, very charismatic in a post-Pulse digital hipster kind-of-way. Not really a conversationalist, except when you wanted to discuss 8-bit processors with resilient geometry, government-approved instruction sets, or maybe – although a rather niche subject – low level assembly programming for licensed devices, although that wasn’t really a conversation topic most of the time, and after the recent legislation not really something suitable for a university curriculum anymore.

“Congratulations, you are the first!” said Vic as he came out of the house as soon as he heard a rickshaw stopping as soon as it hit the gravel outside their place.

“Always like that: the farthest away are the first ones to show up. How long were you on the road, Duncan?”

“Between buses and the rickshaw just over two an a bit hours I think, can’t complain” said Duncan as Tamsin also came outside to greet them.

Just as the four were about to get into the house, thy heard the noise of an engine driving up the small lane and then turning left into the main gate. A fairly dirty but otherwise well-preserved white Suzuki Vitara that must have been from the early 1990s came through and very internationally skidded into the gravel while parking in front of the main door. Shortly afterwards, a well-dressed but rather eccentric-looking old man in his late 70s opened the door and walked around the front of the small SUV to open the door to an even more eccentric-looking old lady.

“Andy, Liz, good to see you” said Vic as the couple got out of the car.

“Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!” said Andy, as he started offloading a big golden box with a fancy red velvet ribbon. In all fairness, he was also wearing a very elaborate burgundy coat with ivory fur sleeves on, and a pair of matching trousers ending in black, perfectly-polished leather boots.

“Welcome back Santa! You are two months early, but I am sure we won’t mind!” commented Tamsin as she helped the couple into the house. Liz was a very slender and… “well-preserved” lady who was also wearing a long burgundy and gold-embellished maxi coat. The coat had a big hood that she immediately put on her head to protect herself (or rather, her elaborate hairdo) from the cold, even if she only had to walk a few meters with her long Victorian-looking walking cane.

Andy had been working as a tram driver for the last twenty or something years, but his family was well off, his father having built most of the estates in Blackrock area back in the 1990s. He basically worked because he felt like it for the good part of his life, not because he really needed it. Similarly, Liz, who was an American who moved to Ireland in her youth and met Andy when she was working as an au pair, worked an emergency operator for a while before retiring, but mainly to have some extra cash to spend on elaborate piece of clothing that she was so fond of.

“So! Some kids are here but the birthday girl isn’t yet!” said Andy alluding to Keira and Duncan while taking off his coat and adjusting his very wild but still very healthy white hair.

“Fae, Finn, and the other kids will probably be here in half an hour or so. They must have got the 11:42 bus from Cork. They leave bikes at the station, they won’t take long to get here from Fermoy bus station.” explained Tamsin “but please, you should make ourselves comfortable, have a cup of tea or something while we wait. I have a few things to take care of in the kitchen, but I will join your shortly. Go to the living room, Vic got a nice fire going.”

And sure enough, the kids turned up a few minutes before noon in their bikes, which they parked next to Andy’s Vitara.

The four “kids” took the same bus from the center of Cork to Fermoy, which gave Finn and Fae some time to catch up and Jenny and Matt some time to get more acquainted. The two had met a few times before, and they definitely felt that their two respective roommates were desperately trying to set them up together, but no proper spark happened yet.

Still, the two seems perfectly-matched. Matt was a fairly good-looking lad, with a generous head of black hair (unlike Finn, who unfortunately seemed to have inherited some of the Consoli genes which doomed every male member of the family to very gradual hair loss as they approached their thirties) and brown/black eyes. Despite being born and raised in Ireland, he wasn’t very Irish-looking, and his maternal grandmother’s Greek heritage definitely played a part in it. Jenny was actually quite similar-looking to Fae, as they both shared the same long, golden hair with gorgeous natural curls, and almost the same light blue eyes, except that Fae’s were a bit lighter and grayer. The only giveaway of Fae’s Italia heritage was her skin complexion, which was fractionally darker than the traditional Irish fair/pale white. Most of the time, the two young women were mistaken as sisters, since they first met when they became roommates a few years prior.

Anyhow, back to Matt and Jenny, another thing that played in their favor as far as matchmaking went, was their careers: he was a talented radiologist, and she was a nurse. Sadly, they worked in different hospitals, but they always had something to talk about between themselves whenever they met.

Within a few minutes, after a lot of handshakes and hugs, everyone was comfortably sitting at a big long table full of all sort of seasonal delicacies that Tamsin (and Vic, to an extent) had spent the day preparing. It was somewhat of a blend of Irish, Italian, and British dishes, but the one thing that Tamsin never liked about traditional Italian dining was serving multiple courses in sequence: she much preferred a more parallelized approach which involved bringing every single course to the table at once, and let people serve themselves.

For this special, “small” lunch with friends there was something for everyone: a tray of baked potatoes with butter and cheddar, a big pot of spicy tomato soup with freshly-baked soda bread with butter and garlic, a huge serving dish full of authentic (as much as they could be in 2050 post-Pulse Ireland) trofie al pesto, a big pot of brasato roasted meat, a huge bowl of fresh salad traditionally-dressed with balsamic vinegar, wine vinegar, extra virgin olive oil and salt, and plethora of other side dishes, nibbles of various kinds, and roasted vegetables. Vic was particularly proud of his homemade pesto sauce: he personally sourced some authentic Roman pecorino cheese, some pine nuts, some olive oil from Portugal and he actually managed to grow his own basil in his own greenhouse. Of course, he always complained that the flavor of the resulting pesto was a bit minty compared to what he was used to when he lived in Genoa, his home town and the birthplace of the popular green sauce, but it tasted exceptional to everyone else.

As usual, everyone had a great time. The food and the drink (mainly Italian red wine, again imported by Vic at great expense) definitely helped, but everyone knew one another already, so they spent hours and hours chatting about pretty much anything, ranging from where to get cheap diesel for agricultural use (and then repurpose it for private vehicles, which was essentially illegal), to the latest bluegrass festival in town, to make up and dressmaking (that’s when Liz and Tamsin basically had their own parallel conversation for nearly an hour), and more. Whe Tamsin brought in the desserts (there were three: trifle, brownies, and her legendary chocolate Guinness cake), everyone agreed that it was the right time to give the birthday girl her presents. Although she was now thirty, Fae had been spoiled as much as her parents could afford when it came to presents, although this year Liz and Andy really outdid themselves. They were, after all, Fae and Finn honorary uncle and aunt, and their godparents; plus they were most definitely very well off since they were both retired and basically lived off (very well) out of all the properties owned by Andy, and that were mostly rented out to families but also restaurants and pubs.

They made room on the big table for the big golden box that Andy had brought for her, and she reluctantly started to open it, amongst the cheers of everyone else – something that put Fae out of her comfort zone, as she had always been fairly shy when she was forced to be the center of attention. She needed help from Finn to lift the other big cardboard box that was inside, and as the two lifted it, it became clear what the present was: a brand-new, latest model of DigiTerm, fully manufactured in Ireland by Éireann Digital Systems.

“Wow guys, this must have set you back some pretty penny!” Tamsin said, as there was a mixture of different reactions to that kind of present. Fae was ecstatic but visibly embarrassed as that was a very expensive present and it would have meant that she didn’t have to spend nights in the office anymore and she could continue her research from home, Keira and Duncan cheered, as did Matt and Jenny, while Finn started quoting each single technical specification of the same machine that he was used to assemble and configure literally every working day. Vic remained suspiciously silent at that point, and just smiled politely.

“So… how many subscriptions do you need to use that thing these days?!” inquired Jenny who was wondering if the machine could actually be something she could use from time to time, as she lived together with Fae.

“Well… you would want the full productivity package on that, which would give you DigiText, DigiCalc, DigiDo, DigiCal, and DigiAddr. The you’d need DigiMail and of course a decent DigiNet plan… and for Fae’s job she’d probably want a DigiForum and DigiNews subscription too… I’d say you’d probably be looking around 8-10 pounds a month, assuming you get some of the bundles.”

“Which are of course paid for the next twelve months” Liz said. At which point Fae hugged the old couple and thanked them sincerely for the amazing present.

“Well… of course we can’t compete with the rich old geezers over there” interrupted Finn joking amicably “but Matt and I had a similar idea… and yes, mommy and daddy helped quite a bit as well… here!” and gave Fae a smaller box.

Fae opened it and revealed a brand new DigiBook. That little portable machine meant that she would have been to be connected and work on her articles from pretty much anywhere. It was the perfect complement for a home-bound DigiTerm really.

At that point Matt decided to timidly contribute with his own joke: “Y-you c-can pretend you are always online like in the 2010s now! You know, like y-your mom and dad…”

silence

The one bad thing about Matt was that he was a tiny bit socially awkward. Very much an introvert, he did try to join in, but his timing (and taste) wasn’t that great at the best of times. Like bringing up pre-Pulse lifestyle in the Consoli household was very much a no-no. Everyone knew that Vic and Tamsin got basically stranded in Ireland when the Pulse hit, and especially Vic didn’t really like to discuss technology anymore, despite him being a former programmer and cybersecurity professional.

So, naturally, when Matt spoke all eyes turned to Vic, who quite honestly had started losing interest in the conversation as soon as he saw the EDS logo on the DigiTerm box. As he suddenly noticed the silence and having only partially followed the conversation, he simply replied mechanically “well Fae, at least you won’t need to pull all-nighters at the Examiner anymore…”

Everyone was relieved, although Finn noticed that there was something that was on his father’s mind. Something he read in the paper probably, that he really didn’t feel like discussing there and then, perhaps. They continued to chat for a while longer, although anything related to the digital world was quickly dropped. Vic also put down the paper, and after a few minutes Finn decided to try figuring out why Vic suddenly became preoccupied. As he helped putting away the dishes and cutlery on the table, he grabbed the copy of the Examiner and brought it to the kitchen, where he could take a look at it properly. He quickly scanned through the first few pages trying to remember which page his father was reading, and then he unmistakably located the only article that could have caused such a reaction, in the foreign news section:

Digital terrorism surges in Northern Italy

House searches to be mandated in major cities to confiscate illegal equipment

Attacks and exploits to digital infrastructure rose 200% in the last month alone, the Italian Institute for Statistics (ISTAT) claims. Local governments in Milan, Turin, and Genoa are seriously considering house-by-house search aiming at confiscating of unlicensed and unauthorized digital equipment as a necessary measure to prevent further disruptions and attacks, in the next few months. […]