“I’ve already told you! He’s meeting us at Barry’s.” Rick seemed somewhat satisfied with that answer and mumbled a sort of acquiescence.
Gas mask, shoes, jacket and they were out the door. Rick said bye to Mom and followed Amy down the walkway. Their UberAIR was waiting on the street outside Rick’s. The AI pilot greeted them as Rick took his seat in the front. There was nobody in the driver seat, so he liked to sit there. It reminded him of the good old days when humans could actually drive those things. In Zero Cities the only vehicles Rick could drive manually were the mini cars. Those little electric vehicles that were basically the offspring of bumper cars and golf carts. They weren’t very fast, but quite fun. Everything else had to be operated by augmented people or AIs, for safety and whatnot.
Showbiz
Rick remembered the first flying cabs as UberAIR took off quietly. The giant octocopter-car-planes made a lot of noise and were not as safe or stable as people would've liked flying vehicles to be. None of that was a problem since scientists had cracked anti-gravity. Something about exotic matter. Made no sense to Rick. Very few things made sense to him. He just observed the results. Making things fly and float had become far easier.
The cab headed for the centre rings of Zero City 6 - 3, near what used to be Brighton. Zero City 6 encompassed much of what was London, Surrey, Kent and Sussex. The rest of England had been reclaimed by nature after being bombed to smithereens during the war. There were smaller Zero Cities in Scotland and Wales and a few pre-war villages and towns that survived. The rest was either barren or reclaimed by nature. The bombings had been thorough, but that only meant it had been more straightforward to build something better on top. And Zero Cities were marvels of science, technology, architecture and social engineering. Much better than anything made before. Rick did regret the monuments. Too few of the old world’s wonders were left. And though history taught that many of the great structures of the past were built by zealots and oppressors, they were still marvels to behold.
Rick had to admit that however great some monuments might have been their glory was diminished when the great Zero Cities sprouted from the minds of humans. His thoughts returned to the scenery as the cab zoomed towards their destination and the giant towers came into view. Like a spiked crown on a head. Rick squinted at the lush lands of the mid-zone between Zero City 6-2 and 6-3. He tried to catch a glimpse of racers looping around on the acrobatic tracks. It'd always been a dream of his to race there, but it was reserved for augmented drivers. Just another way in which he got shafted.
It took about twenty minutes for Rick to get from his place in 6-1 to Barry’s office in 6-3. Barry was set-up in a tower dedicated to entertainment. Thousands of levels filled with studios, sets and offices for those who worked in the entertainment industry.
Rick was fascinated by the mountain-sized conical towers that soared into the skies. They hadn’t started off that tall, but as materials science advanced, and architecture evolved, the towers grew ever taller. The towers’ shared bases spread beneath the entire city and deep underground, incorporating the Metro system and pits. Rick had little understanding of the science that went into building these behemoths, but he was suitably awed.
Towers were broken into sections and were filled with any activity the mind could conjure. People could get office space and do whatever the hell they wanted. Entire parks were built into the towers, some inside, some vertically on the outside and some open-air parks on platforms or in huge gaps. The building AIs, plants and smart materials all working together to make the towers pleasant, strong and stable. How nice.
The cab made its approach towards Tower 3, aiming for an empty landing pad a couple of levels above Barry’s office. People were lounging in a park near the landing pads. The UberAIR’s AI driver landed expertly, as always. Here we go. Rick put on his gas mask, jumped out the taxi and headed towards the stairs in the centre of the park. People immediately started to recognise him. Some smiled and waved from a respectable distance. Rick liked those people. Some ran at him screaming and demanding things. Things, like photos or videos or interviews for their blog. Fuck you pay me. He thought it but wished he could just say it. Though, he didn’t fancy another punch to the face so abstained. Also, Brock wasn’t here. Where is that fucker? Rick posed for a few photos, answered a few questions and said a few stupid things. He made a speedy exit before more bloodthirsty fans could find him.
Barry’s office was in one of the waterfall atrium sections of the tower. One of the nicest office spaces Rick had ever seen. Not that he’d seen many others. The centrepiece was a massive waterfall spanning hundreds of levels in this section alone. Water collected from air moisture and rain by an advanced water collection system fed into the waterworks. Rick had once tried following the waterfall down from its starting point. It flowed inside and out, like a gravity-defying river, winding up and down through parks and office space and down the sides of the building. Stopping occasionally to feed a pond in a garden or a fountain in a plaza. It ran through glass tubes and down great waterfalls all the way to an outdoor pool hundreds of floors below.
A big plaque in the lobby explained that the architects had been inspired by the fabled Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Rick had to admit the result was a breathtaking feat of engineering and a beautiful expression of nature and art. Animals, robotic for the most part, frolicked in every green area giving the whole thing a lively atmosphere. As workplaces went, this was a good one.
Rick’s office was in this tower. He didn’t spend much time there. He only came in for meetings, shoots and to hang out at the Soho House pool bar. He was banned from there now. Pit behaviour was only accepted in the pit. His visits to the tower had somewhat diminished since the ban. He still had to come in at least once a week for The Last Human TV Show. Nearing the end of season ten… Just thinking about it made Rick cringe. He’d have to be there in a few days to shoot yet another humiliating episode highlighting his shortcomings. Shoulda called the show Fail Much?
The studio was lower down in the tower. In a whole section dedicated to shooting movies and TV shows. Rick occasionally got offered movie parts. At best he was the comedy sidekick or victim but more often than not he was the idiot villain. Rick still took the roles because they were more fun than the TV show. Any day of the week.
The atrium was packed with people going to and fro. Working or pretending to work or not even pretending. People could get office space and just draw dicks on the walls all day, nobody would stop them, and some might also come in to watch and pay for the privilege. It happened. Dicksy did it. Rick had watched him work, they’d even had him on an episode. Turned out Rick wasn’t very good a drawing dicks either.
Rick often wondered on what he'd have done with his life had he not become the last human. He understood the basics of the society he lived in. At least how it worked for him. Everything else Amy could just remind him. He called that Just-In-Time knowledge. Rick had made good use of Universal Basic Income in his youth and understood very well that he'd keep getting that money every month. He knew his money was with the Universal Bank of Anonymous with everyone else’s money.
To this day Anonymous still maintained all banking, taxes and redistribution for services. Everybody just got theirs, and everybody seemed happy with the system. All transactions were recorded and quantified by the world’s AIs and fed to Anonymous. And that kept the Council in check. The Council was in charge of societal organisation, security, lawmaking and all that government stuff. Money and state were kept separate. The system was designed so that the gross corruption and injustices of the previous system could never return. Frank had ensured making money from money was no longer allowed. People had to occupy themselves differently than by working in financial institutions. Most work that needed doing was in education, the sciences, craftsmanship and artisan professions and all the arts. Inventing stuff and researching things were prevalent occupations for the mentally gifted, so, not Rick. Education was not his forte eit
her, and his skills as an artist were questionable if at all existent. Though had he not become the Last Human he'd've gotten cyberised like the rest.
Humanity had advanced into transhumanity very quickly. In its new form civilisation was efficient and costs had reached near zero for most things. People were smart and managed time so well they were happy to help each other out for free. It was like the free tutorial boom of ‘06. People just wanted to share their know-how with others, for free. Mental. Whatever was needed, all anyone had to do was ask. Help would come out of the woodwork. Not everything was free. Most of the things Rick liked were not free. Booze and food, as always, were the main expenditure for most people, that and luxuries, like spaceships and cyber implants. Cyber implants were a big industry. Not for Rick though, no Rick spent his money on the holy trinity of food, drugs, and the oldest profession.
Rick hurried down the corridor passing agents and celebrities of every grade rushing by or sitting and waiting. It was all very noisy, lots of shouting, and general loud-talking. Anything being written, sung or filmed in the British Isles was negotiated and planned in this section of this tower. If you were into entertainment, then Tower 3 in Zero City 6-3 was where you had to be. The 363, where stars were made, Rick liked it here, it was one of the few places where people didn’t gawk at him, they just passed him by, and ignored him. Bliss. A chair flew out of an office opening and down the atrium. It was accompanied by a stream of verbal abuse. A tractor beam shot out of nowhere and captured the chair before it could travel far. Never a dull day in the 363. Rick rubbed his hands. He couldn’t wait to ruin Barry’s day.
Barry’s office had a beautiful view of Brighton beach and the pier which had somehow survived the war. From this height, Rick could just about make out people on the ground, no bigger than ants. The walls in his office were lined with photos of his most successful clients and some less successful ones down in the corners. Rick was in the middle and more prominent than the others. He knew he was Barry’s best client. Their careers had grown together when The Last Human became a hit. He’d signed Rick up while he was doing his online show Party Like A Human. Rick had signed because Barry was the first to approach him. Now Barry had the best office on the floor, corner office with a view. He owed Rick. He’d better help.
Every office on his floor was occupied by agents, all independent. With super-intelligence had come super-independence. Companies and corporations had become a rare thing, many had been demonised during the purge and transhumans could do the work of many people. No more need for large inefficient organisations.
Barry split his time between his office here and his home office in Caliscadia’s New Hollywood on the outskirts of Zero City 10. Barry often told Rick he was the only reason he had to come down to this “fakakta” wet country. True enough Rick was Barry’s most famous client and true enough it rained a lot more in Britain. Rick had been to New Hollywood, and he’d shot some films in Caliscadia. He loved it there, but it was just too hot for him. And Rick didn’t mind the rain so much. It matched his general mood. Barry, on the other hand, did not like the rain.
“See that fucking rain yesterday!” Barry was also foul-mouthed. It’s probably what Rick liked most about him.
“Ssup jewbot” Rick walked in and saw Brock was already there. “Where were you this morning? I got mobbed when I arrived here.”
“You look fine to me fool.” Mr T answered, and Brock nodded his approval. Rick shrugged and walked over to an agitated Barry.
“Rick don’t call me that.” Barry embraced Rick and pointed to a chair.
“What? Jewbot? Why not? Wasn’t your mother Jewish? And aren’t you mostly a robot? And you say shit like putz and bubeleh. You’re a jewbot, own it. I think it’s cool.”
“Fuck you! So I use the best possible words to describe situations. Everybody speaks fucking Yiddish now! And every other language for that matter. But that’s beside the point I just don’t like it. Why do you always do this?” This wasn’t the first iteration of this conversation.
“Fine, such a pussy,” Rick mumbled the second bit.
“No, you’re the pussy.” Feisty today.
“Whatever do you mean? Pray tell.” Rick tried to play coy.
“Our good friend Brock here tells me you’ve been having thoughts of escape and contract breach. Why Rick? Don’t we have a good thing going? Haven’t these been ten of the most fucking amazing years of partying, pussy and madness? Why would you want to stop all this to go on the run? Hunted like a common criminal... Because you know that’s what awaits you. You know that right?” Rick stiffened. Alright. Barry was no fun today. Rick would try to be more serious.
“I want to be free.”
“What? Is that it? Nothing else to add? You fucking lunatic!” Barry was getting more agitated by the second.
“I gave them ten years of my life... Surely that’s enough? They can just do specials during the holidays. They can replay old episodes... Families can bond over the reminder of how stupid the human was.” Rick thought his idea was good and he ventured a smile.
“You’re insane if you think that will work. But I can’t stop you. Even if I think your idea is fucking stupid. If you really want out of your contract, you’re going to have to speak to the Agency. Because trying to escape will never work.”
“We have a meeting with them this afternoon.” Amy had booked the appointment without going through Barry.
“You what?” Barry seemed surprised and a little angry. Rick could guess the anger was due to the realisation that Barry didn’t have to, as he’d say, “shlep” it all the way to Europe. “Are you enabling him, Amy? This will end in tears.” Barry was pacing behind his desk now. “You are serious then. You really want to stop The Last Human?”
“I’m done, Barry. I want out.”
“Well, you can try. I was going to say get a meeting with DP and see what he says. But I’m guessing that’s what Amy’s done.” Barry was visibly disappointed. “I hope you understand I won’t be coming to the meeting. I don’t want to be eviscerated, and I don’t want to lose work for my other clients. The happy ones.” Rick understood, Amy less so.
“You’re a coward Barry!” Amy had floated right up to his face her display flashing the fuming face. Barry’s AI, Barbara, was squaring up to Amy now.
“No, he’s not! Barry’s job is to protect the interest of all his clients. Not just Rick. Who it seems wants to cease being a client.” Barb made a solid point.
“It’s fine, Amy drop it, I don’t need him there anyway. I’m just going to tell them I want out and we’ll work out a way to make it happen.” Rick believed that in earnest. It made Brock and Barry burst out laughing. And making Brock laugh required high calibre nonsense. Rick wasn’t so amused.
“It’s not going to be that simple Rick,” Barry said it, but they all knew it to be true. Rick knew Richard Prunce was a dick, not known for his friendliness or flexibility.
“What other choices do I have?” No answer from anyone.
There were no other realistic solutions. Rick would need to go the Agency HQ in Zero City 9 and tell them the truth about how he feels and hopefully they would come to an agreement that worked for everyone. Rick had actually hoped Barry would come and argue his case. But at this moment Rick realised the painful truth... He had no friends. Brock and Barry had both been hired by Dick Prunce; their salary was paid for by the Agency. And really they both had the same job... Keep Rick in line with the programme. Sure they had partied with him, shared women and secrets and so many drinks and laughs. But they were cyborgs, probably had some settings that enabled them to repress feelings of friendship and lie to his face without his knowing any better. Fuckers. At least he had Amy, she’d always be with him. Rick glanced in Amy’s direction. She’d moved back to his side, away from Barry. Rick glared at Brock and Barry. He was mad at them, but he still needed them, they would be crucial to his escape. He’d have to play nice with them, and everyone else, a little bit of hypocrisy could
go a long way.
“Well since this seems to be going nowhere how about we go grab some lunch?” Rick asked Amy the time. Not quite noon. Rick wasn’t hungry, but he was thirsty.
“Sure let’s grab a bite. We’ll go somewhere nice, give you one last taste of what you’re throwing away.” Barry looked relieved, and the tension in the room dropped.
“I could eat.” Brock could always eat. He had two augmented stomachs that could digest anything and a gigantic body that needed to maintain mass.
Food for Thought
Barry’s office was conveniently situated halfway between the restaurants and the studios. Rick followed as the group headed down the footbridge to the circular lift platform. The central opening was lined with maglevators. Behind the glass cars, the waterfall flowed mostly ignored by the bustling activity in the atrium. The ride up offered an astounding view and a close up of the waterfall. Rick tried to take in as much as he could on his way up. Last time coming here, hopefully. Rick was glued to the glass, eyes darting furiously as he tried to keep up. They disappeared into an elevator shaft and continued past closed-off sections. The glass lift took them all the way to the tower’s mid-level, the 1000th floor. A long ride.
Rick had become accustomed to the maglevators. Amy had told him a thousand times they were state of the art and very safe. After ten years Rick was about convinced. Like everything else that moved people, the maglevators included those anti-gravity inertia dampers, and neither cyborg nor mutant could survive a trip in there without them. Rick barely could with the inertia dampers. It felt like an invisible hand pulled on his brain as they accelerated. The problem lied in the fact that he couldn’t really understand how it all worked. Amy had explained it, but it meant nothing to him. All he heard was "gravity this" and "inertia that" and what he experienced were glass coffins that could reach speeds upwards of a hundred kilometres per hour. His human brain found it dizzying.
The Last Human Page 6
