age with clean hair cut in straight angles. He’d seen pictures of girls like her. WU girls.
‘Hi there, Gomez. How can I help you?’
‘Are you real?’
‘Of course I’m real. Is that all you wanted to know?’
‘No. No. I wanted to know how to become a Citizen.’
‘You don’t need me to tell you that.’ She winked at him and smiled. ‘Just do as the button says, pass the test and then find sponsors.’
‘Will you sponsor me?’
‘I wish I could, Gomez. But if I shared my value with every correspondent there’d be nothing of me left.’ She said it so kindly that he smiled as if she had said: Yes, of course, I can give you everything you need.
‘Can I take the test?’
‘You know that Citizenship is not something to be taken lightly?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that to be a member of the World Union, you have to be a part of it? You have to earn your place.’
‘Yes.’ Not really. All he knew was that life was better in the WU, with WU girls and their neat haircuts. ‘Tell me what I have to do.’
She furrowed her brow. ‘Let’s see ... you work as a recycler in the scrap zone. Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, there are some requests for rare materials. That could earn you some value if you can mix them up right.’
‘Send me a list. I can find anything.’
‘Okay, Gomez. You should have received a ping now. You can contact me directly if you manage it. Good luck on your quest!’ She waved at him and he waved back.
~ * ~
It was dark as he got home, the float behind him dipping under the weight of his haul. The fires still glowed in the forge and he slid the cart up to the loading window.
The smell of beans and onions was just strong enough over the acrid metals of the workroom. Gom sighed and began scattling the pieces, unscrewing every little piece and tossing them into the appropriate receptacles.
The door of the kitchen squeaked and he heard his father’s boots on the sand.
‘How’d you do, Gom? I was getting worried about you.’
‘Nearly there. Did I miss dinner?’
‘It’s on the stovetop for you.’
He thanked him and his papa joined him to strip out an engine he’d brought home.
‘Hey, Dad, what’s phytogen?’
‘Don’t know. Sounds synthetic. What do you want it for?’
‘Nothing. It was just in something I read.’
‘Got a little project, ay?’ His papa grinned. ‘How about after the dishes are cleared we take the night off? I managed to get those refrigeration cores out today. We can ease back for a couple days.’
‘Can I use the Weave?’
‘For twenty minutes only. But take care. You hear me?’
‘Yes, Papa.’
‘Alright. I’ll go up and feed your mom. You get started on the dishes.’
‘Yes, Papa.’
Phytogen, he found out, and some of the other compounds on his list, algomite and scaline proteins, were all ingredients for symbiot matter. Symbiots! Gom ached for a symbiot. The knick-knacks he built with his father for sensors and tools were cool, but imagine how they could get through the piles if he had a sylus. He wondered if he could get enough of the materials on the list to build one for his family.
There was one supplier in the whole of Mexica that stocked phytogen, his business protected by the Caucus that governed the region. Gomez needed to borrow his father’s pass to get into those neighbourhoods as a trade visitor. That could be done , he thought.
He went to bed with dreams of the WU in his head.
~ * ~
Their next session took place in the orphanage instead of Lizney’s rooms. Zach was still too sore to leave his bed, which was being attributed to shock rather than any physical injuries. He managed to sit upright, propped up by pillows, and glared at any who tried to offer him sympathy.
‘I was hakked. It is done,’ was all he would say.
As one who had
‘Hi there, Gomez. How can I help you?’
‘Are you real?’
‘Of course I’m real. Is that all you wanted to know?’
‘No. No. I wanted to know how to become a Citizen.’
‘You don’t need me to tell you that.’ She winked at him and smiled. ‘Just do as the button says, pass the test and then find sponsors.’
‘Will you sponsor me?’
‘I wish I could, Gomez. But if I shared my value with every correspondent there’d be nothing of me left.’ She said it so kindly that he smiled as if she had said: Yes, of course, I can give you everything you need.
‘Can I take the test?’
‘You know that Citizenship is not something to be taken lightly?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that to be a member of the World Union, you have to be a part of it? You have to earn your place.’
‘Yes.’ Not really. All he knew was that life was better in the WU, with WU girls and their neat haircuts. ‘Tell me what I have to do.’
She furrowed her brow. ‘Let’s see ... you work as a recycler in the scrap zone. Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, there are some requests for rare materials. That could earn you some value if you can mix them up right.’
‘Send me a list. I can find anything.’
‘Okay, Gomez. You should have received a ping now. You can contact me directly if you manage it. Good luck on your quest!’ She waved at him and he waved back.
~ * ~
It was dark as he got home, the float behind him dipping under the weight of his haul. The fires still glowed in the forge and he slid the cart up to the loading window.
The smell of beans and onions was just strong enough over the acrid metals of the workroom. Gom sighed and began scattling the pieces, unscrewing every little piece and tossing them into the appropriate receptacles.
The door of the kitchen squeaked and he heard his father’s boots on the sand.
‘How’d you do, Gom? I was getting worried about you.’
‘Nearly there. Did I miss dinner?’
‘It’s on the stovetop for you.’
He thanked him and his papa joined him to strip out an engine he’d brought home.
‘Hey, Dad, what’s phytogen?’
‘Don’t know. Sounds synthetic. What do you want it for?’
‘Nothing. It was just in something I read.’
‘Got a little project, ay?’ His papa grinned. ‘How about after the dishes are cleared we take the night off? I managed to get those refrigeration cores out today. We can ease back for a couple days.’
‘Can I use the Weave?’
‘For twenty minutes only. But take care. You hear me?’
‘Yes, Papa.’
‘Alright. I’ll go up and feed your mom. You get started on the dishes.’
‘Yes, Papa.’
Phytogen, he found out, and some of the other compounds on his list, algomite and scaline proteins, were all ingredients for symbiot matter. Symbiots! Gom ached for a symbiot. The knick-knacks he built with his father for sensors and tools were cool, but imagine how they could get through the piles if he had a sylus. He wondered if he could get enough of the materials on the list to build one for his family.
There was one supplier in the whole of Mexica that stocked phytogen, his business protected by the Caucus that governed the region. Gomez needed to borrow his father’s pass to get into those neighbourhoods as a trade visitor. That could be done , he thought.
He went to bed with dreams of the WU in his head.
~ * ~
Their next session took place in the orphanage instead of Lizney’s rooms. Zach was still too sore to leave his bed, which was being attributed to shock rather than any physical injuries. He managed to sit upright, propped up by pillows, and glared at any who tried to offer him sympathy.
‘I was hakked. It is done,’ was all he would say.
As one who had
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