About The Laws Of Space

Post 168:

The Laws of Space

Episode Nine

Chapter Five Begins

Chapter 5: The Hydroponic Blues

            Clement Pope woke up the next day feeling strained. He rose from his hypoallergenic bed and set his pale manicured feet upon antibacterial stained marble. His legs didn’t seem to want to move. It was stress, had to be stress. His left palm wasn’t recommending any inhibitors or enhancers, so it had to be a creation of the mind. Pope leaned forward and steered his way down a small set of stairs to an elevator. He hit the button for the second floor, home to his kitchen and workout facility. Breakfast will set me right, he thought, still enfeebled.

            Fresh fruit and toast were waiting for him when he arrived; hot coffee already poured. The room’s Worldview came on as he sat down at the table—another sterile, safe environment. Like all Spacers, Pope’s chores, cooking, cleaning, gardening, etc., were all done by special Mechs. Everything he needed in his home, a fifty-acre sphere constructed out of impenetrable glass panels, was simply requested via the System and delivered within twenty-four hours. All it took was a scan of the left palm. Credits were deducted for every purchase, but that was no worry to a man of his value. Of course, anything coming into the sphere was first decontaminated in a clean room that separated him from the outside world. Some Spacers preferred to have a house and adjoining grounds where they could go traipsing about, but Clement felt no need for that sort of nonsense. When he was elected as Administrator, the first thing he did was completely encase himself in the fifty acres of Space the Office allowed. The dome was set upon a hill overlooking City Five to the east—it could be seen by everyone. He’d even heard reports of his Shangri-La being spotted at night by City Four, forty miles southwest.

            Safety and vistas weren’t buoying his mood at present. The last thing he wanted was to see that infernal city or for it to see him. “Set to private,” he groaned, picking a cereal flake from his teeth. On command, the entire massive structure turned black, fully tinted to the outside world. The sunlight too was kept out, but the artificials were synched to come on at the same command. “She won’t be pissed,” he said, admitting the problem and denying it in a single statement.

            Finished with breakfast, the Administrator decided to dress and ride down to the first floor. Among other things, it was the level where all the fresh produce he enjoyed was farmed. Pope liked to check on the tomatoes, to see how they were coming in. No Regular could ever hope to see a tomato; even for a Spacer they were a dalliance. Pope enjoyed that, even more than he enjoyed eating them.