Get ready for a thrilling ride into a future where robots and humans clash for control in RoboNomics, the updated and refreshed version of the 2013 sci-fi classic.
In Toronto, elementary school teacher Andrea Anderson's world crumbles when she's rep...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Elizabeth, dressed in the same lavender collared shirt and pale slacks she would have worn in her erstwhile classroom, sits next to me and gestures as though she's typing on the blond wood veneer of her desk. I'm mesmerized by the clack of her rainbow fingernails on the hard surface. Midday sunshine pours through the crisscrossed lead-paned windows and onto the concrete floor. People work quietly at mismatched desks, a few conferencing in low voices. Their chatter is muffled by the hum of the silver fridge on the back wall.
"Why don't we talk directly to the union?" I turn to Elizabeth and break the silence. "They must have something to announce by now. We could help them – act as liaisons between the reps and the public."
I managed to convince Elizabeth that this was the best way to use our skills: educating the public about the Reclaim our Future Movement. But even though our posts on news items regarding strikes and protests have increased the number of people following us within the iVerse, I can tell she's half empty. Watching the door, waiting to make her escape. Waiting to get back into a classroom.
"Don't they have people for that?" Elizabeth offers.
"Then why the hell haven't we heard anything?" I demand. "It's been months. Look, I think we just need to do something drastic. It doesn't have to be successful. Just anything to prove to people that we're taking action. That we're not just going to wait for the government or the courts to get involved."
Henri rips his eyes from something virtual he was examining and makes a face at us. I've seen that look before when he's about to reprimand someone. But just as he begins to speak, the elevator door slides open, grinding in its track. The noise fills the office, obliterating every other sound. Chris steps out beyond the green door of the elevator and rushes past clusters of Movement members towards the loft. Every head in the room turns to watch.
"Alexa, Bill, Amit, Anderson," he calls over his shoulder. "Follow me!"
The other three members file in behind Oz, Joe, and Shari. I watch them go. It's the first time I've seen Chris since he called me lightning. Since Austin lost his job.
"What are you waiting for?" Henri whispers to me.
Chris' head appears above the partition that separates his bedroom and meeting room from the rest of us below. "That means you too, Teach."
"Oh. Okay," I say quietly, realizing that he called my name, Anderson. My chair screeches across the floor as I abandon it and race to the stairs.
In the meeting room, everyone sits in the decrepit office chairs around the oblong table. Chris stands behind his chair. He leans his stout, muscular frame over the head of the table. He's wearing a blue cap emblazoned with the silver logo of some sports team I can't identify. His curls are tied back at the nape of his neck. His fair beard and mustache are shaggier than I remember. When I enter, he looks at me and scowls.
