Technological innovation is omnipresent, enabling us to meet environmental challenges like never before. Sponsors are green brands, equipment is recycled, and performance and energy efficiency standards are very high. Unfortunately, the scarcity of resources and the cost of these new technologies are preventing many countries from taking part in the games.
While his team is pedaling, his coach is stamping impatiently, and the statistics are running wild, Imrân is savoring his last moments aboard the Airlander, a state-of-the-art airship. For the past decade, the French team has favored these luxurious, low-emission aircraft for their athletes, offering spacious interiors, quiet environments, gyms, and every comfort to ensure optimal preparation.
A voice echoes in the cabin: "Attention, imminent landing." On the tarmac, Rose, his coach, waits with growing frustration. The Airlander is late, and every minute lost feels like a missed training opportunity. For Rose, 2048 is a pivotal year. Imrân, the prodigious triathlete, is about to compete in a team relay for the first time. When the individual triathlon was removed from the Olympic program, Imrân was devastated, unsure if he’d ever recover. To help him bounce back, Rose took a gamble by introducing him to the mixed relay team—a more dynamic and spectator-friendly format that draws in massive audiences, funding, and investments in cutting-edge, eco-friendly equipment. The challenge was clear: train her star athlete to excel in a team setting. Tonight, they’ll see if the gamble pays off.
As soon as he steps outside, Imrân rushes into the car. It’s 9 a.m. in Athens, and the temperature is already nearing 50°C. Without wasting a second, Rose starts the engine, activates the control screen, and shares the latest predictions. Data from his performance aboard the Airlander, combined with his teammates’ results, places them in second position. Imrân usually trusts the computer’s projections, but today is different. For the first time, he feels victory in his gut. He wants to believe that the adrenaline, determination, and spirit of the Games can surpass the cold calculations.
Through the car window, the Olympic district—a rehabilitated commercial zone—comes into view. Imrân is awestruck. This futuristic sports complex, a seamless fusion of nature and technology, now hosts all major international competitions as a tribute to the original Games.
The city unfolds before him, its sleek white roads reflecting the sunlight to lower temperatures. Towering green buildings with solar-paneled roofs rise around him, and silent drones patrol the area to ensure security. Everything about the place exudes innovation and sustainability.
With a final turn, the car enters a garage that opens onto a vast biological pool. In the water, Imrân spots his teammates—Lola, Killian, and Kim—waving at him. His excitement fades when he notices the teams from Qatar and the USA, their fiercest rivals. The relentless competition for top-tier equipment has excluded many less-developed nations from the Games. Those unable to invest in advanced recycling and manufacturing technologies have long since fallen behind—a bitter but accepted reality in this resource-scarce era. At 22, Imrân has only known this version of the world.
Donning his wetsuit, modeled after the now-extinct swordfish, he dives into the pool to join his team. Sensors embedded in the suit immediately begin transmitting data: speed, heart rate, and hydrodynamics.
Rose’s voice crackles through his earpiece, delivering sharp instructions: "Lola, regulate your breathing!" "Killian, you’re overexerting your legs!" These real-time adjustments, aided by the Games’ AI, Sora, make training both efficient and effective.
Suddenly, Rose’s watch vibrates—a call from their sponsor, GreenBike. "Yes, Rose, it’s me. I just got Sora’s stats. What’s the team still doing in the water? Losing tonight is one thing, but they *must* excel on the bike. We’ve invested too much in this to fail. We need to prove that our recycled materials don’t compromise performance." Rose, frustrated by the corporate pressure, hangs up without a word.
An hour before the race, Imrân is energized. The state-of-the-art treatment center offers advanced therapies, meditation spaces, and relaxation pods designed to help athletes achieve peak focus. Sitting in a sensory isolation capsule, he visualizes the course: a 300m swim, a 6.8km ride, and a 2km run, repeated in relay by each teammate. As the lead-off athlete, Imrân shoulders the responsibility of setting the tone.
He briefly thinks of his girlfriend, who couldn’t attend due to the prohibitive costs of flights and tickets. Determined, he resolves to win for her.
The stadium buzzes with electricity. Caleb Sullivan’s concert has just ended, and the crowd is roaring with anticipation. Anti-waste bread beer flows freely as Imrân, Lola, Killian, and Kim enter the arena. The audience erupts. Rose, in her office away from the noise, monitors the race via data streams, ready to guide her team remotely.
Imrân dives into the water, kicking off an hour and a half of intense spectacle. He dominates both the swimming and running segments, feeling unstoppable. The stadium lights respond to the leading athlete’s energy output, glowing brighter as he surges ahead, further energizing the crowd.
"Conserve your energy," Rose urges through the earpiece. "You’re burning too many calories." But Imrân is laser-focused on victory. "Sora recommends using your 40-watt bonus. GreenBike would love the PR boost."
The athletes are permitted 10 seconds of electric assistance for dramatic effect. But Imrân refuses. He wants to win on his own terms, without "mechanical doping." Ignoring Rose’s increasingly urgent pleas, he pushes himself to the limit.
The track rushes beneath his wheels like a treadmill as he sprints toward the finish. But he forgets one critical element: his team. His relentless pace destabilizes Sora, the AI falters, and Rose is left scrambling. Disoriented, his teammates—Lola, Killian, and Kim—make critical errors, squandering their lead. They finish second.
Imrân is left to confront a harsh truth: sometimes, the computer is always right.
Text written with the pen of Jeanne Pelisson and scenarios illustrated with the pencil of Solen Selleslagh.