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...
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I wait, eyes squeezed shut and facing away from him, until Austin pads quietly out of our bedroom.
Then I message Chris.
"I have an idea."
"Ok, what?"
"Need to explain it in person."
"Meet me at HQ?"
I can't tell Austin that I'm off to the Movement again. Last night, we had a fight about how often I go there.
"Can we grab coffee instead?"
The suggestion, the whisper of a date, makes me suddenly and unexpectedly flush with warmth.
"Sure thing. I know a place." He sends me the address.
I leap from bed. I'll tell Austin it's Henri, Elizabeth, anyone else. At least now I won't lie about where I'm going.
#
When I leave my place, white cloud cover fills the sky. Drizzle dots the sidewalk.
I hop a driverless streetcar, mind buzzing as the vehicle passes out of my stomping grounds into a neighborhood I've never visited before. White clouds turn grey and drizzle turns into a downpour.
The streetcar deposits me on a grimy streetcorner and I look up at a hole in the wall with bars over the windows and a cheaply made sign. Heartyboy Cafe and Burgers, it reads. I baulk as much at the suggested combo of coffee and a cheeseburger as I do at the scent of burnt lard that hangs on the air as I pull the door open.
Inside, the diner long, thin, and dingy. A chrome serving bar with spots of rust lines one wall. Faded red vinyl booths are stacked against the other, and down at the end - next to the washroom - Chris sits in one.
He puts his coffee cup on its saucer and waves me over. He rises from his seat and smiles as I approach. His expression is contagious and I don't try to stop my smile in response.
"Oh!" Escapes my lips as his arms loop around my shoulders. It takes a moment for me to recover from my surprise and return the hug.
He releases me. "I'm glad you're here. We need more ideas."
I slide into the booth opposite Chris.
An autowaiter appears beside me. It's an older, bulky model with a cartoonish face that looks nothing like a human, and thankfully nothing like me.
"What'll it be?" The machine asks in a morbid imitation of human colloquialism.
I ask for a coffee as quickly as I can, and when the stained mug arrives I'm happy to hold something. To steady my hands.
"Well, spill it," he starts. "What's this amazing idea that we had to meet to discuss?"
