On my last day in Geneva I’m visiting the Mecca of Science, CERN. I book the ride via Uber app, from the hotel, and make a quick video call to my family. On the move, I doom scroll the news feed, catch up on email, and then back to doom scrolling.


After admission to the visitor’s centre, I plunge into the exhibits of the Large Hadron Collider, the Antimatter, and the Higgs boson for a couple of enlightened hours.


Then, a small black computer catches my eye. A keyboard leans against it and a mouse hangs at the front. A note, partially obscured at the edges as if someone had tried ripping it off but didn’t succeed, reads: ‘This machine is a server. DO NOT POWER DOWN!!’ Next to it, is a project proposal with a note scrawled in its top margin: ‘Vague but exciting …’


On a reflex, I reach out and touch the glass enclosure expecting an alarm to go off. What happens, instead, like a strong eddy, the room swirls, causing me to grab the exhibit’s pedestal.


Unknown many moments later, the churning stops. There are voices in the room, which itself has turned antiquated. I steady myself and look around to notice two men in conversation, unaware of my presence even as I approach and greet them. Spread on a circular table between them, among coffee cups, is the same document from the exhibit while the computer is on a desk behind one of them who has his back towards me. He is speaking with a British accent. The computer, a perfect cube, is brand new and I recognize it as NeXT, one of Jobs’ creations after he was fired from Apple.


“All I need, Mike” the Brit says, “are four software engineers and a programmer-”


“And fifty thousand dollars!” interrupts the other.


“Well, yes … but this will change everything. You wouldn’t have to ask where the documents for a project are, or chase who wrote this piece of code-”


“So, you do see why I scribbled ‘vague but exciting’ on your proposal, don’t you?”


“I’m glad you found it exciting” the British one jokes, “as for the vague part, let’s imagine every piece of information around the world, linked to each other like a mesh”


He locks his fingers in demonstration. His opponent crosses his arms instead. “Understood! I hope that shiny new computer will suffice” Mike points to NeXT.


“That will do, thanks!”


“Excellent. Send a requisition for the team you need for my approval. By the way, I hear you’re calling it ‘Enquire Within Upon Everything’? Isn’t that a book?”


The Englishman laughs. “Yes, the title evokes magic. For me, as a child, the book was a portal to a world of information-”


“Not catchy enough!” declares Mike.


“How about WorldWideWeb then?”


“Cheerio mate!”


Gobsmacked, I notice the calendar on the wall. It’s November 12th, 1990 and there’s no mistaking the creation of the internet by its father, Sir Timothy John Berners-Lee.