her body, then up again.
“You should know how to get around in case we’re separated. So, the ICT runs down and across on a North-East grid.” She pointed to a marked number on the corner. 56.12. “Take the East Line to block 56, then the North Line to block 12. Even you should be able to find your way back here.”
I was still thinking up a catty retort when Gale glided on ahead. I rushed after, of course. Not. Unfortunately, she was waiting for me at the next corner.
This street opened up into a flood of flashing neon advertisements.
2065 Memorabilia.
Instant chip insertions.
50% Discount on all Off-Planet Cruises.
“Please God,” I murmured in a daze, “tell me we haven’t colonized the universe.”
“We haven’t,” said Gale, her eyes zooming out on their springy extensions to scan in three different directions.
“I wasn’t asking you,” I said, finally getting my snub in, and almost got head butted by a lone eyeball for my effort. What I’d do for a ping pong bat right now.
But as I was jerking my head out of the way of a nasty bruising, I spied a potential Chris-like person disappearing into an entrance beneath the Off-Planet Cruises sign. “We’ll never find Chris in this crowd. We should split up.”
“Do you think so?” asked Gale doubtfully.
“Oh, yes, I really, really do,” I said eagerly. Too eagerly?
I was treated to a triple helping of suspicious stares coming at me from impossible angles.
But hey, I’m not the by product of a child psychiatrist and a High Court barrister for nothing. I’d sharpened my milk teeth on reverse psychology and subtle manipulation.
I put on a watery smile and shrugged. “Sorry, that was stupid of me. I thought you were used to going out and about on your own. You know, you come across as so independent, I just assumed... But you’re right, you shouldn’t be left to wander alone.”
“I- I can take of myself,” blubbered Gale, retracting her eyes with a snap.
“Of course you can,” I agreed kindly. “You certainly don’t need me to protect you. But just in case, you should stick close, even if it does take us longer to track Chris down. Don’t worry, I’ll look after—”
“We meet back here in a half hour,” croaked Gale. I think she meant to growl, or maybe hiss, but manufactured vocal chords have their limitations.
Hiding my smirk, I glanced over my shoulder to watch her fly off in a tizz of luminous puce. Ugh.
The Off-Planet Cruise place was called Tripod Travel. Personally, I thought their orange and green plastic décor a genius stroke of marketing. I’d only just stepped inside, and my feet were already itching to get away as far and fast as possible. Seriously, if I had £9,999 on hand, I’d have jumped the very next cruise out of here.
Which departed in just two hours and ten minutes, I saw from one of the endless advertising screens that teased and tantalized. Okay, so I’d probably be on that cruise with or without the itchy feet, but that didn’t change the fact that I had a fiver tucked into my pocket and not a penny more.
Which also meant I wouldn’t be boarding the Cupid Star Cruiser for a seven-day excursion to circle Venus, detouring past Mars on the way there and surfing the rings of Saturn on the way home.
A chill of envy started to tug at my mouth, then I remembered my sad, lonely non-expectations.
God, I could actually see myself, a forty-year old spinster huddled in a loveseat meant for two and set inside a viewing dome as we took a turn around Venus. Teary eyes glued to the glass ceiling as the beauteous planet of lurve mocked from above.
Or maybe that’s the aquarium I’m thinking of, and hungry looking sharks nose-butting the glass that suddenly looks a little fragile- but you get the picture.
I backed up against a pillar, below a screening of Lunar Leaping expeditions on the moon, and tried to think positive thoughts.
Hadn’t Chris said that seeing the future changes it? I mean, I wasn’t
“You should know how to get around in case we’re separated. So, the ICT runs down and across on a North-East grid.” She pointed to a marked number on the corner. 56.12. “Take the East Line to block 56, then the North Line to block 12. Even you should be able to find your way back here.”
I was still thinking up a catty retort when Gale glided on ahead. I rushed after, of course. Not. Unfortunately, she was waiting for me at the next corner.
This street opened up into a flood of flashing neon advertisements.
2065 Memorabilia.
Instant chip insertions.
50% Discount on all Off-Planet Cruises.
“Please God,” I murmured in a daze, “tell me we haven’t colonized the universe.”
“We haven’t,” said Gale, her eyes zooming out on their springy extensions to scan in three different directions.
“I wasn’t asking you,” I said, finally getting my snub in, and almost got head butted by a lone eyeball for my effort. What I’d do for a ping pong bat right now.
But as I was jerking my head out of the way of a nasty bruising, I spied a potential Chris-like person disappearing into an entrance beneath the Off-Planet Cruises sign. “We’ll never find Chris in this crowd. We should split up.”
“Do you think so?” asked Gale doubtfully.
“Oh, yes, I really, really do,” I said eagerly. Too eagerly?
I was treated to a triple helping of suspicious stares coming at me from impossible angles.
But hey, I’m not the by product of a child psychiatrist and a High Court barrister for nothing. I’d sharpened my milk teeth on reverse psychology and subtle manipulation.
I put on a watery smile and shrugged. “Sorry, that was stupid of me. I thought you were used to going out and about on your own. You know, you come across as so independent, I just assumed... But you’re right, you shouldn’t be left to wander alone.”
“I- I can take of myself,” blubbered Gale, retracting her eyes with a snap.
“Of course you can,” I agreed kindly. “You certainly don’t need me to protect you. But just in case, you should stick close, even if it does take us longer to track Chris down. Don’t worry, I’ll look after—”
“We meet back here in a half hour,” croaked Gale. I think she meant to growl, or maybe hiss, but manufactured vocal chords have their limitations.
Hiding my smirk, I glanced over my shoulder to watch her fly off in a tizz of luminous puce. Ugh.
The Off-Planet Cruise place was called Tripod Travel. Personally, I thought their orange and green plastic décor a genius stroke of marketing. I’d only just stepped inside, and my feet were already itching to get away as far and fast as possible. Seriously, if I had £9,999 on hand, I’d have jumped the very next cruise out of here.
Which departed in just two hours and ten minutes, I saw from one of the endless advertising screens that teased and tantalized. Okay, so I’d probably be on that cruise with or without the itchy feet, but that didn’t change the fact that I had a fiver tucked into my pocket and not a penny more.
Which also meant I wouldn’t be boarding the Cupid Star Cruiser for a seven-day excursion to circle Venus, detouring past Mars on the way there and surfing the rings of Saturn on the way home.
A chill of envy started to tug at my mouth, then I remembered my sad, lonely non-expectations.
God, I could actually see myself, a forty-year old spinster huddled in a loveseat meant for two and set inside a viewing dome as we took a turn around Venus. Teary eyes glued to the glass ceiling as the beauteous planet of lurve mocked from above.
Or maybe that’s the aquarium I’m thinking of, and hungry looking sharks nose-butting the glass that suddenly looks a little fragile- but you get the picture.
I backed up against a pillar, below a screening of Lunar Leaping expeditions on the moon, and tried to think positive thoughts.
Hadn’t Chris said that seeing the future changes it? I mean, I wasn’t
Similar Books
