by A.K. Meek
***
The reporter spoke excitedly about the Menagerie craze as he wound through the trees in the park. A little green snake coiled around his arm.
“This is Ned Falkner reporting from Evergreen Park in Palisades Tower Five, floor 100. For today, Charlie the snake is my producer.” He held up the little tree snake. It flicked its tongue at the camera.
“Charlie is a Menagerie. If you don’t know what that is, then you must’ve been on a deep space mission for the past six months. They’re the latest craze, born from the genius minds at Acme.
“You may think they’re virtua animals, but they’re not. They are true synthetic creations. Acme researchers spent the past several years studying archive videos and photo films to recreate extinct animals.
“No detail is too small, from the design of the smallest feather barb of a sparrow to the nocturnal rituals of a ferret during a full moon, nothing has escaped the meticulous eye of the Acme design team.
“But they’re not merely cosmetic. They link to you with a simple DNA input and become your partner in life. They’ll rewire you and inspire you. But don’t take my word for it, let’s talk to some fellow Corinthians.”
Ned turned and waved to a couple that sat on a small wooden bench surrounded by large sunflowers. They looked like they just finished a run through the park. The lean guy cradled a small rabbit in his arms.
The girl pulled a water bottle from the backpack that clung to her chest, squirted water onto her flushed cheeks, then feigned surprise when Ned acknowledged them. “Hello there. I’m sure you heard me talking about the latest Menagerie craze. Tell me, what’s your name?”
Lean guy started to stand. “My name is Na—”
“Hi, I’m Penny.” The girl leaped from her seat and stepped in front of her male friend so that she stood before the camera. Her pony tail of stringy flaxen hair swung like a metronome pendulum. “I live in Palisades Tower Four, but come here to run with Nate.” She pointed at Nate, who sat back on the bench behind her, stroking his hare. “We’re not dating or anything, he’s just my training partner. I’m running in the Palisades marathon in five months.”
“That’s great,” Ned said. “Your friend Nate told me you both have Menageries. Can you—”
“Tell you about them? Oh sure,” Penny said. She pulled a white and black spotted guinea pig from her backpack and held it aloft for the camera. “Isn’t Domingo the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? When I saw him in the store I knew he was meant for me. I just knew it.”
“How has Domingo helped you?”
“Let me tell you, he has really helped with my running. I know I said Nate is my training partner, but Domingo is really my partner.” She gave him a kiss on his little head. Long whiskers shook and his nose twitched. “He tells me things to motivate me when I don’t want to run. Not only that, but I tell him secret things... ” Penny blushed and she closed her mouth, as if she said something she didn’t expect.
Ned waited a few seconds as Penny finally appeared speechless. “You were saying you tell him other things, secret things?”
She stroked her guinea pig. “Sometimes he knows how I feel before I tell him,” she said. “I know that sounds magical, but it’s true. Maybe it’s the neuro stuff that links us. I tell him my bad thoughts. He tells me it’s okay to feel that way. He really is my best friend.”
“Well done, Penny,” Ned said. He smiled and waved to Nate who still sat on the bench. “Sorry Nate, we’ll have to catch you next time around.” He turned back to the camera.
“There you have it folks. Penny, one more Corinthian in our bustling city who cannot live without her Menagerie. Her forever friend is Domingo the guinea pig. If you haven’t done so already, go to your nearest Acme store to find your forever friend. This is Ned Falkner reporting for News Station Twelve. Cynthia, back to you.”
“LX off,” Tim said.
The two-dimensional floating screen lost opacity, then shimmered and melted into nothingness. The projection set shut off.
He looked at the box next to him on the couch with a toad inside. Maybe it was time to see what could be done with this thing.
Even though he wasn’t dressed in a business suit, the occasion warranted a hat. Going to his wall and looking over his collection of 74, he picked a grey brushed felt fedora with a dramatic pinched front.
Fedora firmly in place, Tim picked up the box mom brought earlier in the week and headed to the Acme store.
A ghostly croak echoed from the box.
The Angry Witch Mob
One, two years. Definitely two years. That was the last time he set foot on a surface street, outside the protective world of building clusters and transit tubes.
Corinthian storefronts wore their age. Discolored, crumbling bricks formed the boundaries of the asphalt and concrete streets. A few new vehicles wound alongside narrow, crowded streets. The majority of cars, though, still ran on outdated gas powered engines.
People littered the streets like refuse. Their clothing reflected a life not spent in the clean apartments and tubes of the towers. Their faces also carried the look. Hard lines gouged in leathery, weathered cheeks, eyes sunken in. Not a pleasant hat in sight. The street folk were dirty and gritty.
The air purifiers of the towers removed any trace of foreign odors, but there was no filtration for the streets of Old Corinth beyond the basic life sustaining oxygen generators. Car exhaust, sewer vents, and the sweat of humanity filled the nose.
Tim gasped, coughed and covered his mouth with his shirt collar. A tingly feeling started at the tip of his tongue, so he clamped his mouth tight, opening it ever so slightly to take in the minimal amount of air to keep breathing.
No wonder it had been two years. Mom said she stayed living on street level because it reminded her of the old days and times such as when she spent hours walking with him window shopping.
Tim pushed through these crowds on his way to the Acme store. Mom should have used a different Acme store, maybe the one in Palisades Tower Four, floor 53.
