It wasn¹t that Arcade didn¹t want a Black Hole, she just didn't automatically trust every new fashion that came along.  Sealing dangerous objects in carbonate crystal was no new idea - Arcade herself had a string of venom-beads and a Literally Lava Lamp - but Black Holes, even miniscule specks of Black Holes sealed in carbonate crystal, were an unknown quantity.

As it turned out, she was in a minority.  Everyone loved the Black Holes. After the jewellery came the paperweights, the ear-implants, the novelty shoes and the chew-toys.  Everyone was absolutely crazy about the new fad, and it showed no sign of vanishing overnight as most novelties did in these days of fleeting attention-spans.

Then Ltim asked her to sync with him.  A flattering offer - not a lifebond, but nobody lifebonded anymore.  To sync was to accept a contract of five years co-habitation.  She liked Ltim, he was good company.  The only twinge of doubt came when he presented her with her ceremonial sync-gift. It was a carbonate crystal ear-implant with a speck of Black Hole swirling within its
transparent depths.  Despite her misgivings, Arcade accepted it gracefully. After all, it was fashionable.

Months later, Arcade began to feel something was wrong.  Her weight had not changed, yet the feeling of lethargic heaviness became more and more obvious.  She knew she couldn¹t have conceived; accidental pregnancies were unheard of in these enlightened times.  It was difficult enough for a couple with a fertility license to conceive, and she and Ltim had not even
discussed applying for a license.

Gradually, Arcade began to realise that she was not the only one affected by this strange malaise.  Queues became longer, sky-trams were slower.  People walked around with puzzled expressions on their faces, and women¹s magazines
took on a vaguely desperate tone.  Everyone was feeling heavy.

The astounding news that the Sun was changing its trajectory was soon squashed, replaced with a much more concerning theory.  The Earth itself was changing its trajectory.  Gravity had perceptibly altered and everything was unbalanced.

Arcade never knew what made her suspicious of her glittering sync-gift, but she went to have it removed anyway.  Ltim was angry, perplexed by her irrational behavior, but she barely noticed.  This was far more important.

The effect was minimal, but Arcade did feel different.  Free of the weight which had dragged her down for so long, she began to think more clearly, see things with a fresh eye.  The Black Holes were responsible for making the planet heavy.

It was not long before the governments of the richer segments of the world were advised of much the same theory.  The planet was being dislodged from its orbit because of the Black Holes.  Something had to be done.

And something was done.  Something logical.  For, as the richer governments were quick to point out, it was only the rich, fashion-conscious countries which were unbalancing the planet with the extra weight unevenly distributed.  If the poorer countries had bought their share of Black Hole paraphernalia, there would be no problem.

A charitable campaign was launched.  New shipments of Black Hole crystals were brought in from off-world and shipped to the poorer, unfashionable continents and countries.  The key-rings and ear-implants and chew-toys were all carefully placed in this or that starving village at the expense of the richer governments of the world.  And so the world was balanced.

Arcade's own campaign, to completely rid the planet of Black Holes, received no government support.  The official response was that if this unpatriotic individual succeeded in shipping any carbonate crystals out of her area, the planet would be threatened by displacement again.  They could not support her terrorist acts.

When Arcade's Black Market Resistance did manage to ship significant quantities of the expensive, fashionable jewellery into deep space, the governments of the world retaliated by bringing in replacements. The planet must be balanced.

And so it was, for a while.  But as the carbonate crystal began to degrade (an inevitable risk with expensive jewellery), every speck of Black Hole seemed to grow even heavier.  Because of the strict balance ordained by the governments of the world, the weight had a different effect this time.  The orbit of the planet began to slow.  Only the loyal pattern of the moon reminded the people of how life used to be - with days and nights following each other swiftly.  Days and nights became weeks and then months long.  The seasons stretched on forever with a devastating winter followed by a tedious spring, barren summer and damp, dreadful autumn.

It must have been tolerable, for it was tolerated.  People got used to it. Millions of people died in the first winter, and few crops flourished in the harsh summer, but Nature soon began to adapt to the conditions.

Arcade was begining to despise Ltim, and he had long since ceased to try and understand her.  But they were locked together; their casual five-year sync a life sentence which they could not legally revoke.  They would be dead of old age before their 'five years' was spent.

There was no space travel now, no way of banishing the carbonate crystals with their deadly soft-centres.  The richer governments of the world had collapsed, as governments do when disaster strikes.  There were no power-bases, no heroes to rid the world of the ultra-fashionable influence of the Black Holes.

It was only a matter of time.  Carbonate crystal degrades eventually.  The planet would become heavier and slower as the carbonate crystal molecules slowly ebbed away.  And eventually, by no means soon, one carbonate crystal or another would degrade entirely and where once there had been a thriving, singularly fashionable trend-setting planet, there would be only depth.
 
 

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