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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Henri and I are the first ones to arrive at Queen's Park that morning, the June morning is so new that there's still dew on the grass. We blink sleepily as we look up at the mottled brown building. I've always liked the legislature's bubbly stone work and the regal way it stands out next to the glass box University buildings and the mass of concrete block research institutes.
It's been about a month since we spoke with the union. They were the last ones who could have stopped our protest, who could have persuade the members of parliament that the proposed bill to outlaw unions was a terrible idea. But they didn't stop it; all their resources couldn't compete with Newhouse. And today, the legislative assembly will vote on the bill.
So Henri and I fumble to set up a table at the entrance to the park before union members from across the province show up. The permits to protest here on the lawns of our legislative building bulge in my pocket.
"Austin didn't want me to come today," I tell him. I don't mention that my fiancee's request to stay home from the protest turned into a monumental argument between the two of us. Just one more of the many that have been clouding our mutual happiness of late.
"Yeah, neither did Russ." Henri replies. "He was really weird about it, like I was shipping off to war or something."
A few minutes later, Miriam and Elizabeth arrive. Elizabeth has dyed half her hair rainbow colors, as if she's going to a musical festival. Bill, Amit, Alexa show up soon after. They are followed by the other teachers, nurses and office administrators who helped us organize the protest.
We give out t-shirts in colors that correspond to different unions and check people's names off of our long virtual list of members. Soon the people arriving outnumber our supply of t-shirts. By nine o'clock in the morning, the lawn is crowded with tens of thousands of people. But there's no sign of Chris. Joe, Oz and Shari haven't shown up either.
"I've never seen such a crowd," Henri remarks. "How many you think? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand?"
"You'd think this was Woodstock 3 or something," Elizabeth refers to the massive festival she attended a few years back, when music festivals were an option for us. It feels like a lifetime ago, I remark as Elizabeth hands Henri a placard.
"Human Resources belongs to humans," he reads off the card and raises one eyebrow. "Really?"
"Hey, don't blame me," says Elizabeth, "I put Miriam in charge of coming up with slogans."
"Hey," Miriam whines. "I thought it was clever."
"Guys, look," I pull myself onto the empty table and stand carefully as it wobbles. I grab Elizabeth's arm and help her to stand on the table with me. It has a plastic top with fold-out legs barely thicker than wire. That doesn't seem to matter to Henri and Miriam, who follow us onto it.
