Daryl fired up his time machine, after pocketing a wad of cash for a deposit—and jumped back to 1995 right before the dot-com boom.

  Daryl registered hundreds of domains before the digital oligarchies.

  On returning to the present, gigantic spire antennas reached to the sky, humanoid robots marched people, escorted by hovering, buzzing drones.

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  An all-seeing eye wavered on flag poles—no stars, no stripes.

  “Halt!” A robot scanned Daryl. “You’re unregistered.”

  The robot stuck Daryl in the neck with a probe—countless voices endlessly filled his mind with instantaneous access to all knowledge.

  “Welcome to the Public Domain.”