Chapter Twenty-Two – Dress for Stress

Chapter Twenty-Two – Dress for Stress

“I’m not saying that counterfeiting should be punishable by death… but I’m not not saying that.”

–Bert McWeathers, Deputy Head of the Treasury Dept., Former United States of America, 2036

***

Pop-up stalls were a pretty common feature. A corpo would rent out some walking space in a busy part of the city, and overnight a stall would appear selling whatever. Those sorts were usually manned by some sort of android and would have out-priced stuff for sale.

It was pretty normal to see one appear in front of a competitor’s shop, just as a sort of insult, or as a way to drag customers away. It made for good artificial drama, and I remembered loving reading about two luxury brands being pissed at each other on social media.

That was before I grew old enough to realise that both brands were owned by the same megacorp.

In any case, pop-up stalls were kind of a neat way to switch things up in an area, but they had their limits. Lucy and I were heading to a corner of New Montreal that was known for its stalls. I’d never been there before, because it was the sort of place that was a bit too exclusive to let the likes of me in.

At least, that’s what I thought.

We circled a large building a few blocks over from the centre of the city. “Finding parking here’s gonna be tough,” Lucy said.

“Eh, I could park in the middle of the road,” I said.

Lucy laughed. “No, don’t! That’s just abusing your privilege.”

I didn’t comment on how I’d done it a few times already. Instead I circled around another time while connecting my augs to the nearest building’s parking system. It wanted me to download some parking app thing that’d let me check on availability and reserve a place in exchange for a mostly subscription thing.

Myalis seemed to take umbrage to that, and the system folded as she poked at it. My auto-pilot found a spot in the VIP section and I turned the bike in that direction.

Slipping into a parking garage and past its security, we drove up a ramp and into the reserved section, then right into a nice open spot. “Alright,” I said.

Lucy pressed herself closer to me as she swung her leg off the back, then she hopped off properly and wiggled her helmet off while I stood. Her hair came out in a big poof, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s racist,” she said.

“What? How?”

“You’re mocking my hair, just because it can’t handle hats,” she said before placing the helmet onto the bike’s bench. She ran her hands into her hair and tried to fix it, but the helmet had done a number on it.

“I think your hair’s fabulous,” I said.

Lucy sniffed haughtily, but I knew that look in her eyes. Lucy was a lot of things, and vain was certainly one of them. Not too much so, but she did enjoy a solid compliment. “So, what is this place?”

“I imagine you mean beyond the parking garage?” I asked, then ducked her swat. “It’s a clothes place. Myalis helped me find it. It’s basically an entire floor with nothing but pop-up stands and merchant stalls and stuff. It’s a bit exclusive.”

“Oh, sounds fancy,” Lucy said. “But you know, I’m not all about that fancy stuff, right? I do need new threads, but it doesn’t need to be something too chic. Those credits could be spent on something else.”

I reached out and pulled Lucy in for a hug. “I want to spend a lot of money to make you feel pretty,” I said.

Lucy returned the hug. “You’re an idiot,” she said. “And besides, feel pretty? What if I want to be pretty, hmm?”

“You’re already the prettiest,” I said.

Lucy laughed, light and chiming and very much pretty. Even after all this time it made my insides squirm. “You’re so cheesy, Cat.”

“Just a little,” I admitted. “Come on!”

It wasn’t too far from the parking garage to the rest of the building. We stayed close as we rode an elevator down, then made our way through a few corridors. The deeper we went, the more people were around. Eventually we rode a travelator along with some dozen other people to a sort of toll booth.

The booth was manned by a pair of androids checking people’s ID and charging a small fee for entrance. It was just a thousand credits, about what someone would pay for a half-dozen cans from a vending machine.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

It was probably just enough to keep vagrants out and to pay for the security itself. Lucy and I passed without issues, which was nice. Myalis spoofed the ID thing, and I transferred over the entrance cost since… well, money wasn’t as much of a concern, and while I could probably get in without paying, that seemed needlessly dickish. “Welcome to the Arcade,” the android said in a smooth, feminine voice.