Malltown

And these same companies, and the state governments, wouldn’t allow people to get paid for sending solar power back into the grid. The grid we had paid for. We should pay the companies for our free energy.

  The state governments and the big energy companies didn’t allow anyone to leave the grid either—not in settled neighborhoods. And so, comes a storm, the people with solar panels—their power went down with everyone else's. Even though they could have made their own power off the grid and not had a problem. Instead, their power didn’t come back until everyone got their power back. That’s essentially, what they paid for month to month—to lose their power during a storm.

  After that people got wise, demanded the laws change, went illegal, went off the grid. They formed neighborhood collectives and the jig was, essentially, up. It went that way with everything, power, commerce. People got wise. That and the robots taking all the jobs—trying to make people pay for what was free to make, when no one had a job to pay for anything because they didn’t need any workers. What with all the robots. To make us pay even after the cost of labor, raw materials, energy, transport, all went down to nil.

  So that was the Bottleneck—a lot of protests and the mass waves of voting everyone read about in their Elementary School Rovers. The cities remained, dinosaurs of commerce. Relics of Capitalism.

  Peggy could still hear the voice of her KnowTown PlushBody GroupTeacher Robot in Elementary School, “Money is a social institution and a measure. A measure against which everything else can be measured. Hence the social pressure. The universal measurement of who’s better than who is a… what children?”

  “Is a lie!” Peggy and the other children shouted. And then start laughing and running around again. Then the PlushBody Robot would sing a nursery tune.

  Toward the end of the walkway, a manmade earth mound created a steep rise. Peggy put her legs into it, enjoying the tension in her calves.

  Having reached the door to Hydroponics Bay 5, Peggy passed through a puff of tension—similar to those on field doors. Peggy stepped into a dim warmness and a dark green smell of vegetation. Peggy ramped up almost immediately, onto an observation deck on Second Level, Hydroponics Bay 5. From here the entire operation could be viewed.

  The vast domed room spread out before Peggy. She’d visited hydroponics on a school trip once, but never in person. Still, she remembered the dark green smell. Peggy’s eyes adjusted to the strange pattern of light produced by the huge batches of plants growing in the hanging rectangular bins.

  Beds of lettuces and herbs hung in orderly rows from the ceiling, growing in their nutrition gel. Each bed encapsulated its own LED grow wall, creating a pattern of bright and green, bright and green throughout the large, domed enclosure. The gel beds’ embedded sensors detected when individual greens matured, and, for ease of robot harvest, the gel beds attached individually to a conveyer.

  Far below sat conveyers for cruciferous vegetables. Growing cabbages and broccoli lay in horizontal gel beds. From Peggy’s vantage point above the floor, it appeared as though only a single layer of vegetables grew, but she knew there might be a dozen or more layers beneath. Peggy studied the robots down below, looking for signs of a human. Peggy gripped the rail of the metal observation deck and looked across Hydroponics Bay 5. The observation deck circled the entire center. She could walk its length and never see a human face.

  But there was one. Floating in the dark across the hydroponics bay. A grim, weathered face under dark hair. He gripped the rail with both fists, lifting his broad, well muscled shoulders around his thick neck and ears. He didn’t wear coveralls—she could tell, even from this distance—that he wore a form fitting skirt, tight, and a red tube top. Probably sandaled feet, Peggy thought, not wanting to think about his feet.

  His dark eyes glared across at Peggy and she re-remembered how much younger he was compared to Petunia-Glass and Sandy-Grass. A physical presence. “Who are you?” he asked. He called across the dark, large space, “Wait a minute. I’ll come over there.”

  “Or I can come over there!” Peggy called back. She headed around to meet him. They made their way to meeting in the middle. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Peggy said, putting her hand out for a shake.

  He frowned and reached a meaty hand, his grip firm and moist. Looks like a poisoner, Peggy thought, surprised at herself. Not the physical kind, despite the bodyworks.

  Dark hair glossy—Peggy guessed at a #9 vending machine cut, the Short and Sassy. Dark brown eyes smoldered under Rocco-Vertuccio’s Short and Sassy—and a deep frown.

  “Why are you here? No one comes here.” Rocco-Vertuccio’s dark eyes held Peggy’s.

  “Why did you take up this task Rocco-Vertuccio? Why become a Factor in Sector 4 & 5’s food supply?”

  Rocco-Vertuccio’s thin brows slid down over his eyes, “What are you implying?”

  “I’m asking you why you chose this area rather than a bay closer to Sector 9, where you’re from? If nothing else, a horticultural bay near Sector 9 would have greater convenience to you.”

  Rocco-Vertuccio said nothing. His mouth turned up a fraction. “Who sent you?”

  Peggy shook her head. “No one sent me.”

  “But you’re a Factor, right? I can smell it on you. A Grippy, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “For who?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re on a Burble, am I right? For who? Who sent you here?”

  “Can’t you guess? Or are there more than two names you’d be required to say?”

  Rocco-Vertuccio smiled. He looked away. “Mind if I smoke?” He took out an old fashioned looking joint from a solid pack of fifty. “They’ve started selling these in a kiosk in Sector 9. You should come over and try some.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  He shook the pack until a point of a joint emerged. “Want one?”

  Peggy looked at the pack. Should she? In her Grippy Factor capacity? “Yes, thank you,” she reached out her hand. Her fingertips gripped the joint and she pulled it out.

  “I got this at the same kiosk,” he held out an old looking lighter. “They specialize in the ‘90s craze.” He lit her up.

  Peggy inhaled. “Doesn’t everybody,” said Peggy in a tight voice, holding her breath. She exhaled a long stream of smoke. “For a week.”

  “Yeah, right, I know.” Rocco-Vertuccio scoffed. He took a hit off his joint, eyes scrunching tight.

  Peggy took another deep toke. They were silent for a bit. “So, why the task?” asked Peggy.

  “The Factor? That’s to get in here.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes got hard. “I like the quiet.”

  Peggy exhaled. “Listen, we need to cut the bullshit here. You’ve got two seniors upset. I don’t know why—” Peggy waved her joint in a circle, “I don’t know this whole love triangle thing you’ve got going with them, but whatever they did to hurt you, that’s no reason to take it out on their hobbies, know what I mean?”

  Rocco-Vertuccio nodded, “I know, I know,” he said. “Now, whatever you’re claiming I did, I can tell you I didn’t do it. But I assume you’re referring to Petunia-Glass and Sandy-Grass.”

  “You know I am,” said Peggy. “We don’t have to fool around over this.” She took a long toke. She was getting well-baked. For sure.

  Rocco-Vertuccio shrugged his shoulders, “You got no proof,” lifted a meaty hand to his mouth and toked the joint.

  “Oh but I do,” said Peggy.

  Rocco-Vertuccio’s head snapped around to have a look in her face. “You do, do you?” He took a step toward Peggy.

  Peggy held her ground. “Indeed.”

  “You know, I could throw you off this walkway. Do you know what it’s like to hit a cement floor from this height?”

  Peggy felt a trickle of sweat down her back. “No. Do you?”

  “No. But I’ve seen it before.”

  “Oh, when?”

  “Three weeks ago.”

  “Three w
eeks ago?”

  “Three weeks ago, Petunia-Glass and Sandy-Grass threw my melons off the walkway of Horticultural bay 8, Sector 9. They stood right here, giggling, after having gotten stoned off a pack of joints just like this one.” He came forward.

  Peggy stepped back and found herself pinned to the railing of the walkway. Cement floor far below. “That’s impossible.”

  “Is it?” asked Rocco-Vertuccio. “They’d walked through my garden together. With that sheep. Letting the sheep eat my watercress. Then they gathered my melons with their robots and went up to the second platform of horticultural bay 8 and threw my melons.” Rocco-Vertuccio got too close. Face to face. “Those melons cracked like heads. Like heads!”

  Peggy inhaled. “That’s impossible. Petunia-Glass and Sandy-Grass aren’t on speaking terms.”

  “That’s what they say, do they?”

  “Sandy-Grass never even saw the sheep!” Peggy pushed Rocco-Vertuccio. On the shoulder. She pushed in an attempt to step past him. Rocco-Vertuccio gripped the railing on either side of her. Peggy leaned back to get out of his face. What a jerk! Peggy thought. She’d have to do one of her moves.

  Out of the corner of her eye Peggy saw a form hurrying up the walkway. The form had entered through the same door she had entered from. The form had three smooth white orbs, glowing dully in the strange blue-black shadows of the horticultural bay. The form wheeled swiftly forward. “Grippy Peggy!” The Pwamster Robot shouted. The Pwamster Robot raced forward, “Grippy Peggy!” As it got closer Peggy could see that the Pwamster Robot’s mid-globe was open and 55,555 rested on the seat. The Pwamster Robot had her thin, metallic hands over 55,555’s middle, pressing 55,555 into the seat. “Grippy Peggy!”

  Rocco-Vertuccio’s head turned in surprise.

  Peggy used the moment to perform her move.

  Peggy’s leg swung out. She hooked her foot around the back of Rocco-Vertuccio’s knee and tugged, behind his knees. Peggy then took his hand and bent it backward, as far as his hand would go and then farther.

  Rocco-Vertuccio cried out.

  The Pwamster Learner Robot raced up to Peggy and Rocco-Vertuccio “Grippy Peggy!”

  “I’m alright,” said Peggy. “I’ve subdued the culprit. We’ve got to take him into custody and check his homepod for a Shyster. Confiscate his Factor Rover and check for any contact he’s had with known VR tinkerers.” Come to think of it, Peggy had never had to take a culprit into custody before. Where would she put Rocco-Vertuccio? There wasn’t a place for that sort of thing in Malltown. Should she alert her fellow Grippy Factors about the Burble? She’d never consulted anyone before over her actions.

  Rocco-Vertuccio struggled to get up. Peggy pushed his wrist back and stopped, knowing if she went any further she’d hear a pop.

  Two fresh forms appeared on the walkway. Peggy looked over to see Petunia-Glass and Sandy-Grass speeding forward in their robots’ seats. They came to a sharp halt in front of Peggy, The Pwamster Learner Robot, 55,555, and Rocco-Vertuccio who kneeled on the walkway while Peggy held his wrist.

  “Oh let him go, Peggy! This has gone too far,” said Petunia-Glass.

  “Yes, do! Peggy, let him go before you hurt him!”

  “Excuse me?” said Peggy.

  “We didn’t mean it, honest we didn’t!” said Sandy-Grass.

  Petunia-Glass said, “It was all in fun. Rocco-Vertuccio was only helping!”

  Peggy let her grip lessen on Rocco-Vertuccio’s hand. “What—what are you talking about?”

  Sandy-Grass and Petunia-Glass looked to one another, frowning, then looked to Rocco-Vertuccio who was slowly getting up.

  Rocco-Vertuccio rubbed his wrist. “How’d I do?” he asked.

  Peggy looked around at the four of them. “What is going on?” Peggy looked at her Pwamster Learner Robot.

  Her Pwamster Learner Robot shut off her eyes.

  Peggy felt her eyes open wider. “You did this! This is a set-up! Isn’t it!”

  Sandy-Grass touched Peggy’s arm. “Can’t we go talk about it?”

  Peggy pulled her arm away. “No we can’t go talk about it! What was this? Some sort of joke?”

  Petunia-Glass spoke up, “It was a game—no one was meant to be hurt. Your Pwamster Robot—”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” said Peggy. She stepped past the group. The Pwamster Robot swiveled to face Peggy.

  “Don’t come home!” she yelled at the Pwamster. And left.

  :::SECTION BREAK:::

  It had all been a lie. All of it. A joke. None of it was true. There had been no urgent Burble. No need for a Grippy Factor. “The attack?”

  “Staged. Rocco-Vertuccio really does have a private Shyster from the city, unregistered in Malltown.”

  “And the fire in Sandy-Grass’ knitware museum?”

  “Fake too.”

  “And you knew about this?”

  Roxy nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am your friend, and you needed this. Something to get your mind off things. You’ve been miserable lately. And don’t you think your Robot feels it? You’re not alone in that room, you know. She’s there too. Frankly, I’m going to be honest with you, you made that Pwamster Robot feel rotten every day. Like it was doing something wrong, or rather, like it couldn’t do anything right. That isn’t fair. So when the Pwamster came to me and said she wanted to do this, I said yes. I’d help her. So I helped her find the right people and got it going. Peggy, haven’t you seen all the hats she’s been wearing to impress you?”

  “Those were to impress me?”

  “Yes! Peggy, open your eyes. She’s really very fond of you. And you haven’t given her a chance.” She paused. “Peggy, Gretchen is gone. Accept it and move on.” She wiped the counter, “And take it as a compliment. Franny 2-9’s never gone to such trouble for me. I’d be thrilled if she did.”

  “You think you would but it’s humiliating.”

  “Is it? Or was it the most fun you’ve had in weeks?”

  Peggy frowned. Maybe… maybe not… Then again maybe.

  :::SECTION BREAK:::

  Peggy arrived home to find the Pwamster Learner Robot waiting in the center of her homepod’s main room. The Pwamster Robot held a small amount of dark material hanging from metal fingers. “I came to retrieve 55,555’s VR suit. Petunia-Glass has offered to house me.”

  “Were you waiting for me?”

  “Yes,” said the Pwamster Learner Robot.

  “Was there something you wanted to say?”

  “That I only wished for you to—like me. And—”

  “And?”

  “And to not look so sad.”

  Peggy nodded. She felt herself frown.

  The Pwamster Robot wheeled forward to the main door. The main door whooshed open.

  “Wait,” said Peggy.

  The Pwamster Robot turned around.

  Peggy looked away. “I guess I haven’t been treating you fairly.”

  The Pwamster Learner Robot said nothing.

  “But I missed… I missed—”

  “I know,” said the Pwamster Robot.

  Peggy looked away. She rubbed her lips together, exhaled. Looked back. “Maybe we can start over.”

  The Pwamster Robot’s eyes flashed. Once. Twice. “Do you mean it?”

  Peggy nodded.

  The Pwamster Robot turned, then turned, then turned.

  Peggy laughed. She wiped her nose.

  “I’ve got to return 55,555’s VR suit to Petunia-Glass. But I shall return.”

  “You mean you won’t stay for a club sandwich?”

  “No! No,” The Pwamster Robot wheeled around, “I shall be back.”

  When the Pwamster Learner Robot returned, Peggy asked her to print a piece of nutrient dense chocolate cake and while the Pwamster Robot waited by the printer she said, “Peggy, I’ve decided on my name.”

  “You have?” asked Peggy, standing by the field door.

&nbs
p; The printer beeped and the Pwamster Learner Robot removed the cake. The Pwamster Robot wheeled it over to a table. “Yes, I have.” She added a plastic fork to the table.

  “Tell me. Don’t keep me in suspense,” said Peggy.

  “I’ve decided to call myself Franny 1-8.”

  Peggy chewed over the name. “It sounds nice. Franny 2-9 will be flattered.”

  “Do you think so?” asked the Pwamster Learner Robot.

  “Oh yes. I know she will.” Peggy glanced out the field door. The chickens raced by.

  THE END

  GLOSSARY

  Malltown: Malltown is a large, domed enclosure not to be mistaken for a city. Malltown is to be considered a suburb, with appropriate population numbers. Malltown houses over 100,000 residents. There is an Eastern End and a Western End of Malltown.

  The Cities: These are the traditional cities everyone knows. Capitalist enclaves where goods are initially sold before they are, after five years of ‘early adopter’ use, given away free to the Towns—it’s the law. The cities maintain large populations and have all the glamour and danger a modern city should.

  Mainway: Conduit that travels the entire length of Malltown. Also called a Corridor (informal). There are two mainways in Malltown, the Left Mainway and the Right Mainway. The two mainways are divided by the bimpercars and the central kiosks.

  Sector: Malltown is divided into Sectors. Each homepod address includes a Sector number. There are 9 Sectors.

  Homepod: Units of living quarters in Malltown. Each homepod is replaceable.

  Grippy: Peggy is a Grippy, a type of Factor that entails taking care of minor complaints, arguments, and crime—although murder is virtually unknown within Malltown. Theft is rare. Break-ins into homes considered virtually impossible. There is the occasional theft of city goods left unattended in public, but again, that’s rare, because everyone can get everything, more or less.

  Burble: a crime or incident that requires a Grippy Factor’s immediate attention.

  Factor: Those who choose to perform tasks in Malltown, and therefore become a ‘factor’ within the community.