THE QUANTUM INTELLIGENCER

The Burlington Rooms have seldom seen such agitation as last evening’s discreet salon on ‘Quantum Futures,’ where the patrician banker J—n V—n E—k was observed delivering, with the mildest of smiles, a most uncompromising ultimatum. Unless the venerable House of B—coin hastens to adopt the newly fashionable ‘quantum-proof’ armour before the season turns, its long-standing alliance with the V—n E—k coffers shall be severed—one might even say, annulled. Younger Houses Z—sh and P—o, already gowned in zero-knowledge lace, drew appreciative murmurs; meanwhile, the IBM-Cisco consortium hinted at a quantum telegraph capable of unpicking every discreet boudoir cipher by 2030. Arrivals included the buoyant Miss A—k I—st, fresh from adding thirty-nine million to her speculative trousseau, yet all eyes rested on the B—coin delegation, who departed pale but resolute. One hears a lattice-based chaperone has been commissioned, though society doubts it will arrive in time for the spring presentations. The matter is delicate; tongues flutter, yet no one quite names the potential scandal.—THE EDITOR —Ada H. Pemberley Dispatch from Trigger Phase E0