Outside the Oasis: Part 1

Mason knew he was running late. He was late more often than he was on time. His ear implant began to repeat the instructions that it had given him and Mason turned the last corner before his destination. He smiled as he saw the large sign hanging above the pathway. It was a wooden sign with a large slice of pizza taking up the majority of it. It looked warm and delicious, and most of all, it made him hungry.

Normally, Mason would look through the window as he walked by so he could watch the automated machines making pizza, however, today he didn’t dare slow himself down long enough to enjoy it. Approaching the service door at the side of the pizza shop, he held his phone up to the control panel. Both the door and his device turned green and gave a happy chirp followed by a loud click as the door unlocked.

He sheepishly entered the restaurant and closed the door quietly behind him. Mason ran his fingers through the curls in his hair and removed any sweat off of his brow with his shirt. Every fiber in him hoped that Claire was miraculously later than he was. As he tip-toed into the kitchen, his shoulders fell as he was greeted by a woman typing on her laptop.

Claire sat on one of the many metal countertops in the kitchen. Her wavy light blonde hair was behind her shoulders and her sunglasses acted as a headband to keep any stray hairs in their place. She wore a bright and floral, sleeveless sun dress that depicted all sorts of watercolor flowers. Her legs were pressed together tightly to form a suitable location for her laptop, and sleek white sneakers kicked back and forth as she typed quickly. When Mason entered the room she looked up from her screen and smiled coyly.

“You’re late,” Claire’s light green eyes glared at him before softening into a friendly gaze, “per usual.”

Mason rubbed his shoulder with guilt. It was amazing that they were friends. Mason was never on time, yet Claire had a way of arriving anywhere punctually. “I was late for a good reason.”

Claire lifted a thin eyebrow and looked at him up and down. “Well I don’t see a box of doughnuts in your hands, so I doubt it’s that good,” Claire playfully jabbed.

Pulling out his device, Mason approached the counter and placed his phone next to her, tapping it a couple of times so that it displayed an official-looking file. To save Claire the hassle of reading, Mason read allowed:

“We are delighted to notify you that your Internal Combustion Engine, or I.C.E., Permit has been processed and approved,” Mason stated proudly.

Claire closed her laptop with excitement and hopped down from the counter to wrap her arms around him, “Oh my God! Congratulations! I know how much that means to you, and I’m so excited for you!”

Mason tried to remain cool and collected, but he couldn’t contain his excitement, “I’ve been on the waiting list for so long! I never thought I would actually be accepted.”

“I always knew you would,” Claire separated from Mason and grabbed his phone to read the rest of the file, and when she was done she looked up at her friend, “That’s good news and all, but we do still have a task.”

“Right, right,” Mason nodded, “Follow me.”

Both Mason and Claire began to walk around the kitchen. While there were no humans inside besides the two of them, the place still hummed with life. Five automated machines were busy at work. Mason always found tranquility in the sound of stepper motors and servos buzzing, clicking, and humming. They weaved around each machine before coming to a stop at one of the stations.

“That’s my boy, right there,” Mason pointed at a machine that had been stashed in the corner. Its arms were slumped to its side like a wilted house plant. The robot had a bulbous center and five arms extended from it. One arm had a nozzle to dispense marinara sauce, and the other arms acted as claws and slicers for various toppings. Mason looked back at Claire, “Doesn’t it look sad?”.

Claire giggled, “Well hopefully you find someone to fix it.”

“I thought that’s what you were doing,” Mason gave Claire a quizzical look.

“Fixing it?” Claire put a dainty hand to her chest, “Heavens no. I’m a computer engineer, not a mechanical one. I’m taking a look so you can know what’s wrong with it. I’m saving you a diagnostic fee.”

“Oh,” Mason said with sad realization, “So I’m still going to have to find a person to fix it?”

“Yes, stupid,” Claire joked as she put her laptop somewhere safe. She reached into her small leather bag and pulled out a multitool. After inspecting each tool she engaged the flathead screwdriver and began to use it as a prybar on the underside of Mason’s machine.

Mason wasn’t sure what to do. He tried putting his hands in his pocket, but that felt too relaxed. He tried folding his arms, but that seemed too bossy. Eventually, he just started patting a rhythm on his stomach.

Once Claire pried the service panel off of the machine it fell to the floor with a metallic clatter and immediately a dark liquid began to drip from the machine. Claire continued to poke around, careful not to touch the liquid. As she inspected, she rubbed a finger on the device that wrapped around the top of her ear, and as she did a flashlight turned on.

Claire bit her lip in concentration before looking back at Mason, “It looks like your hydraulics controller is leaking.”

“And is that something a computer nerd like you could fix?” Mason asked hopefully.

Claire rubbed her ear implant again to turn off the light, “How many of these machines do you own now?”

Mason straightened his back proudly, “This one is my seventh,”

Claire grunted to herself, “Well it wouldn’t kill you to do some research on your own and become a mechanic yourself.”

“I know,” Mason sighed, “It’s just so much easier to pay people to do it.”

“You don’t pay me,” Claire replied as she looked for something to wipe up the liquid.

“I thought I was getting the ‘friends and family’ discount!”

“Well, you’re about to get the ‘frequent customer’ upcharge,” Claire laughed as she stood up and wiped the dust off of her knees.

Mason looked at his watch. The screen glowed to show the time, date, weather, and upcoming schedule. A soft vibration reminded Mason that he had to be home for dinner in a couple of minutes. “Look, I have to get home for dinner. Maybe afterward we meet back here and we figure it out together?”

Claire contemplated the offer. Her eyes traveled between her laptop, the wilted machine, and Mason’s childish smile. “Are you going to be late again?”

“Not any later than I normally am!” Mason said with a cheery grin.

After hesitating once more, Claire shrugged, “Ah, what the hell. If I learn mechanical engineering I can start actually getting paid.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mason cheered, “Of course, we will discuss your payment later. I gotta run, and I’ll see you here in an hour-ish.”

Claire waved at Mason as she hopped back up on a counter, fixed her dress, and opened her laptop again. As she concentrated on the screen she pressed a finger against her nose.

--=|=--

Mason walked down the hallway of the seventy-third floor of Red Wood Tower until he saw decorations that looked very familiar. His mother always went to lengths to decorate the area around their front door so that it looked different from all of the other apartments nearby. Mason pressed his personal device against the keypad and with a sudden release of pressurized air, the door slid open and revealed his home. Once Mason stepped through the doorway, the door closed with equal speed.

The comforting scents of home wafted into his nose. Mason swore silently as he heard the clinking of silverware in the next room, signaling that he was late once again. Chatter from the next room piqued Mason’s interest and he began to follow the sound of voices to the dining room. The table was set with the plates his mother deemed “the fancy ones”, and a quick scan of the people sitting at the table confirmed that there were guests in his home.

His mother greeted him with a smile before continuing her conversation. It was less of a “welcome home” smile and more of a “be on your best behavior” smile. Mason’s father waved his hand for his son to sit next to him. As Mason sat down, he began to assemble a plate of food while silently inspecting the newcomers.

Two women and a man sat in the chairs that usually were empty. One of the women was deeply invested in the conversation between Mason’s mother and her. She was thin and wore a colorful dress that stopped just above her knees. Her long black hair flowed down her back in a very uniform manner, and its smooth and glossy texture seemed to reflect the light around it. Her face showed signs of aging and her body language was very proper. While she spoke to Mason’s mother she cut her husband’s steak with precise knife strokes.

Mason’s gaze moved to the next stranger at the table. The man sat patiently as he watched his wife cut the food in front of him. He was thin, but his skin stretched tightly across the muscles on his arms and legs. His face had deeper wrinkles than his wife, along with grey stubble and dirt stains on his jaw and cheeks.

As Mason looked at the stranger up and down, he realized that the stranger was missing his right arm. When his wife finished cutting his steak, he picked up a fork with his left hand and began to eat slowly. The man watched the conversation more than he participated in it. His worn jeans and wrinkly oil-stained shirt were a complete contrast to the woman who had cut his food.

By the time Mason’s eye of judgment fell on the young woman that sat with them, he was startled to see that she was already looking at him. Her eyes scanned him up and down, making Mason feel extremely uncomfortable. Mason felt like an animal in a cage as she studied him with narrowed eyes.

The young woman looked Mason’s age. Her hair was the spitting image of her mother’s hair: long, dark, and shiny. Her shirt had a couple of stains on it as well, and she wore tattered jeans. Her demeanor was quiet like her father, but vicious like an apex predator’s.

“Mason, these are the Forthrites,” his mother’s voice broke Mason’s staring contest, “they have just recently moved into the great city and have purchased a house on the floor above us.” She gestured towards the newcomers at the table, “This is John and Melissa, and their daughter Taylor.”

“Congratulations on the move!” Mason looked at the two new adults at the table, “I hope you enjoy the city.”

The woman placed both hands on her chest, “I absolutely love it here in Solar Oasis. There is so much green here and the buildings are so tall!”

Mason chuckled to himself. He always found it amusing to see newcomers become starstruck about the city he had grown up in.

Between bites, the man spoke to no one in particular, “Is it true that all the cars here are electric?”

Mason’s mother began to speak up, but Mason beat her to it, “The only cars you can buy within the city limits are electric, but you can apply for a permit to own a gas vehicle. My application was just granted today,” Mason announced proudly.

Glaring eyes from Mason’s mother drilled into the back of his neck and gave Mason a cold sweat. This was the first time Mason’s parents were hearing of his application. They had fought with him against applying for an I.C.E. permit, but Mason had chosen to apply anyways. His mother softened her expression and returned to the warm smile of a host.

John smiled at Mason’s comment, “Keeping the lifestyle alive, right boy? Do you have a car already?”

“I have my eyes on a couple, and I’ve saved up a lot of money,” Mason replied while ignoring the heated glances from his parents.

“What good would a car do?” Melissa spoke up, “Sorry for interrupting, but I don’t see any roads outside. It’s all walkways for pedestrians.”

Mason’s mother quickly assumed her tour guide persona, “All of our roads are below ground and our sidewalks are placed above ground. We haven’t had a pedestrian casualty in years!”

“That is so interesting!” Melissa said with excitement as she looked out the window wall in the living room.

Since Mason’s family lived on the seventy-third floor, their windows were above the trees that peppered the walkways below. From their window, they could see hundreds of people moving around like ants. Most followed the main pathways, but a few would follow the ornamental pathways that butted up against gardens and fountains. Melissa pointed at an art gallery of statues that stood proudly in the dark green grass below. Mason’s mother was more than eager to explain each one. Mason finished his food quickly and stood up to leave.

“Mason,” his mother pounced on him quickly, “Where are you going?”

“Claire is waiting for me at one of my machines. We are trying to fix it, and I’m late,” Mason said quickly, hoping that his vague reason was enough to be excused.

“Fix it?” John perked up, “What type of machine are we talking about?”

Mason loved talking about the machines he was invested in and was quick to reply, “It’s a sauce and topping machine at Cheesy Slice. It’s a pizza place down the road.”

“If you’re looking for someone to fix a machine, my daughter is the best for the job,” John gestured his hand to his daughter who sunk deeper into her chair. “If she can fix a big rig, she can fix a pizza machine.”

“Oh, Mason. Do take Taylor and show her around the city,” Mason’s mother joined in.

Melissa whirled with a smile, “That is a fantastic idea! Taylor, go with this lovely young man.”

Both Mason and Taylor gave the same annoyed expression to their parents and both parents returned the same look of authority. Mason flashed a half smile and waved his hand for Taylor to follow him. Taylor rolled her eyes and resisted at first, but was lifted from her seat by her father.

“Come on,” Mason said with lackluster enthusiasm, “Let me show you around.”