“This is simply a question of right and wrong.”
“You can’t deny the prices, although. You preserve saying that only one extra 12 months of taxes will resolve—
“We’re not solving—we’re mitigating!”
“Then what’s the point?”
The shrill back-and-forth fills the kitchen, the place Xia is busy making breakfast, some form of terrible cricket-protein smoothie with kale. Tascha squeezes into the small house behind her, kisses her on the cheek.
“Can you maybe put that in your head?”
Xia doesn’t put it in her head, however she at the least lowers the amount with a click on of her tongue. ElectoPod’s unending shouting match turns into one thing extra akin to ocean noise, the place solely occasional offended waves splash by means of the kitchen.
Tascha digs by means of the fridge, searching for one thing that isn’t kale or crickets. Finds a BitterBucketBrew and cracks it open. The espresso comes from gengineered vegetation that may survive increased latitudes. Caffeine in heaps, plus a proprietary course of to filter out virtually all endocrine disruptors, phthalates, microplastics, arsenic, and lead. Xia says it isn’t pretty much as good as espresso grown from heirloom shares. It’s not pure, she says. Xia additionally says {that a} 99% filtration fee isn’t all that nice when hormone mimics are harmful in elements per trillion.
For a refugee, Xia will be awfully choosy.
“You should be paying attention to the election,” Xia says. “This is your country.”
Tascha sips her espresso. “That’s why I have you.”
“Why don’t you run for district carbon board?” Xia presses.
“Because then I’d have to deal with people. Anyway, I don’t have time. I’m trying to make bonus so we can get into Azalea.”
“If you don’t make time, someone stupid will. Gribaldi is running again. In Texas—”
“Don’t worry.” Tascha kisses Xia on the brow. “Even Gribaldi’s not as stupid as Texas.”
Xia makes a biting movement at Tascha, intentionally turning up the amount within the kitchen.
Is that passive-aggressive?
Or aggressive-aggressive?
Regardless, ElectoPod as soon as once more floods the kitchen with the newest miserable information. A brand new era of almost undetectable AI proxies are battling it out for mindshare as November approaches. An ocean of microtargeted content material is pouring into individuals’s feeds, custom-generated on-the-fly advertisements and leisure primarily based on mountains of monitoring information—all of it illegally obtained offshore, all of it tailor-made to sway public opinion—and nobody is aware of who or what’s producing it. It’s sufficient to make Tascha suppose she ought to have fought by means of her ADHD and gotten her programming diploma. Someone needs to be earning money off that.
Instead, Tascha clicks her tongue and activates her personal feed. Peace immediately envelops her, as ElectoMute smothers ElectoPod. Custom-tuned bone-conducted vibrations hum by means of her cranium, completely canceling out the sound waves of Xia’s obsession. ElectoMute is Tascha’s solely paid subscription. It’s not even sound, Xia complains each time she sees the month-to-month invoice. A symptom of Late-Stage Capitalism. Paying to make the noise of one other feed go away.
Tascha calls it the most effective $50 a month she’s ever spent.
Sometimes, it’s simply nicer to close issues out. If Tascha’s trustworthy, it’s all the time nicer to close issues out. Ever since she obtained her first bone implants on suggestion of the varsity counselor to assist her focus and calm herself, she’s been a fan of shutting issues out. People are each distracting and a trouble. Tascha continues to be form of amazed that Xia doesn’t get on her nerves extra. Sure, she additionally has one other—very secret—mute feed tuned to Xia’s voice … however doesn’t everybody put their relationship on mute generally?
Xia is pushing a smoothie throughout the desk at her. Her lips make noise shapes. “No smoothie?”
Tascha shuts off ElectoMute and XiaMute. “Did you know the plywood they’re using on the worksite is made of mushrooms?”
“So?”
“It’s like, mushroom-hemp composite. I could bring some back for your smoothies.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s carbon negative. You’d love it.”
Xia offers her a pointy look. “Don’t be cute. I’ll take it from the kid who lost her whole town to a tornado, not from you.”
Xia volunteers on the Georgia Displacement Authority. She doesn’t have a full work allow but, however she will be able to volunteer, so, after all, she does.
Xia, all the time looking for everybody.
Tascha nurses her smoothie. Her father says that relationships are about compromise. If the worst factor about Xia is kale-cricket smoothies, Tascha is aware of she’s a winner. She forces down the final of the smoothie and will get up from the desk.
“I’m late.”
Xia’s lips transfer once more, making extra mouth shapes.
Tascha tunes again in. “What?”
“I said, make sure your frigrig’s charged. It’s hot today.”
“It’s always charged. They charge them every shift.”
Xia is undeterred. “And swap out your mask filters. Canada’s burning up again.”