System Tour: The Moon

by Edd

Cinderella’s castle in Lunar Disneyland is a latticework of thin metal rods with nanodots that cycle through a thousand color changes a day. Right now it’s purple near the base, shading into pink with white starbursts above.

Right now it’s all blue with an animated Tinkerbell swooping in and out the tower windows. That’s how fast it changes.

Park Hoppers are a constant nuisance, teens in spacesuits leaping over the fences. They carry resonating jammers that opens holes in our forcedome just big enough, just long enough, for them to pass through. The computer feels this and notifies me of their trajectory. Usually I’m there before they touch down, zipping through underground tunnels in my bullet car. I read them the riot act about loss of atmo, about endangering park guests, about paying their entrance fee. I tell them a fable about the kid who landed on the Matterhorn tracks and got run over by the bobsled. Then I have my robo-Pluto sniff their DNA and bill their families.
Everybody’s got a robo-Mickey, or robo-Donald, or robo-Goofy. Part tour guide, part guard, part shill, they ensure that no part of the park gets overcrowded. “Let’s go visit Main Street,” they’re always saying. That’s where most of the shops are.

Lunar Disneyland has the largest dome in the solar system. It’s visible from Earth, but of course there’s nobody down there to see it any more. From the outside it’s opaque: white to reflect the sun, cycling to black in the shade. Inside it’s all puffy clouds and flying horse-ladies. Pegasi with women’s torsos and heads. You know, from Fantasia.

Guests come from all over to visit the park. Spindly Martians, half-gaseous Venusians, bulky Uranians. They’re human inside, where it counts, and mouse ears come in all sizes.

Street People

by David

“Ow!” That hurt. The sun is just touching the façades on the west side of the street, and the crowds are still light. The first heel in the nose is the closest I’m gonna get to a cup of coffee this morning. Although I can hope someone will trip and spill some in my mouth.

“Excuse me. I didn’t notice you.” A high-pitched voice. Either a child or a woman.

“Are you blind?! The whole sidewalk is covered with us.” Okay, that may have been a little harsh, especially if I’m talking to a child. Yep, I hear sniffling. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just a little stressed. It’s been 13 years since I had any coffee.” Or anything else.

I guess the kid moved on. So now I’m feeling guilty, even as people walk all over me. Something light hits my cheek. A biscuit wrapper, from the scent. I can’t reach it with my tongue. Traffic’s picking up and more and more people step on me. I try not to make noise. Attention is usually bad. I eavesdrop. This is my only source of daytime amusement.

“I said ‘Honey, you don’t know.’ He really thought I would, on the first…”

“…bell peppers. That should do it. Don’t forget tonight…”

“…gonna eat all that? Cos if you’re full…”

Crumbs.

Smell, taste, hearing, pain. I believe they disable vision because that would give us too much pleasure. Some think it’s done out of kindness. Eyes are so vulnerable.

*

Night’s better. Sometimes a lonely person will stop to chat, even feed me. One time, a woman let me suck her nipple. I think she was a whore, but hey, I take what I can get. She didn’t come back.

Some of my night visitors are not so nice. They urinate in my mouth, smear dog poop on my nose, you get the idea. This kind of behavior is the reason we are put here. People are quite cruel, if not very inventive, and the State can pretend it doesn’t know.

*

Once a month or so my ex-wife comes by. She doesn’t feel sorry for me; she comes to abuse me. I didn’t know that girl was under age. Or that she had a weak heart. Anyway, I’ll be out in 12 years. Sharon may have moved several times by then, even changed her name, but I’ll find her.