Chapter 2: That Time I Went Shopping in a Future City and Experienced a Very Stimulating Free Service
When I was told I'd be touring a future city, I expected to see one of two things:
1) A menacing, chrome-plated megalopolis with angular skyscrapers towering over a gritty, neon-splashed streetscape full of holographic advertisements for hookers;
OR
2) A gleaming white megalopolis with flying cars, gracefully soaring architecture, and tastefully integrated green spaces.
But when I step out of the lab this time, in the actual future, I don't see either of those things. In fact, I'm hardly sure that I've gone outside at all.
Just outside the door of the lab, there's a kind of covered corridor or arcade that seems to be connected to many other arcades. There is a vaulted ceiling high overhead, but the 'walls' are more like a series of open archways than solid structures. It reminds me of the gallery overlooking the cloister in a European monastery, or the raised walkways of a Zen temple. A cool breeze passes through the arcades, as if they're open to the outdoors, but all I can see through them are the next few walkways over on every side. There are no towers and no vehicles of any kind. Like the interior of the lab, the architecture is mainly curvy (which is always reassuring in a future landscape), but it isn't only white out here. Instead, the walls are a varied but harmonious patchwork of colours and textures. The arcade I'm in looks like it's made of cream-coloured marble with caramel-gold veining, but some of the other arcades I can see through the arches seem to be made of crystalline blue-green stone, or pale-yellow brick, or smooth weathered-grey wood, or glossy white ceramic. I can't see any kind of cityscape outside of the warren of tunnels, not even the horizon. Somehow, it all gives the impression of being comforting and manageable, rather than overwhelming. Yes, I recall thinking, I can handle this much future at once. Just some covered pedestrian streets. A little bit quirky, but human-scaled. That's ok.
Of course, as soon as I think that, I start to notice the people. A small group comes strolling casually through the next corridor over from mine, and then a few individuals pass by the opposite way. Based on the scientists' appearances, I figured everyone in the future must be good-looking, but this time my expectations are blown out of the water. These aren't just beautiful people with the kind of movie star/athlete/pop idol looks we're used to in 2021. They're sculptures in flesh, modified to heights of exaggerated idealization almost beyond what we would consider attractive today. Some have feathers for hair; others have metallic skin. Others have gone to such extremes in their genetic engineering or cosmetic surgery or whatever it is they're doing that they look almost like aliens to me. But the one thing they have in common is that all of them are completely naked, showing off their strange, wonderful, and most definitely enhanced breasts and cocks and other...things. And here I am, standing among them in my ripped jeans and my ratty old university hoodie, feeling very much aware of, oh, just every single physical imperfection I've ever noticed in myself since the age of 12.
But I guess there are always trends and subcultures in every society, and at least one group in the future cultivates the imperfect proportions and personable flaws that once made one look "human": the little crooked tooth, the off-centre smile, or the small round breasts and full hips and curvy belly of someone who's gone a bit pear-shaped, like me. So to my relief, my guides, when they show up, turn out be a pair of slightly mismatched but otherwise ordinary-looking twins. Both are dark-haired with blue-grey eyes. One of them is narrow-chested man and the other a narrow-hipped woman (or so I assume, maybe wrongly). They look almost exactly alike except for a few significant flaws. The nose on one curves slightly to the left and the nose on the other curves slightly to the right, but not quite like a mirror image. They've enhanced their subtle imperfections by their almost-not quite similarity to each other. Maybe it's supposed to look more natural, but the more I look at them the more I think it's even more unnatural than an ordinary set of identical twins would be.
"Hi," I say. "I'm Robyn Casey. One of the scientists in the Timesync research group said someone would be coming to show me the city. Are you my guides?"
The twins catch each others' eyes and break into slight giggles.
"Yes. We are your Guides to the Future!" Says the female-looking one. Something in her tone tells me she knows the line is cheesy and is relishing the cheese. "I'm Raine Maida, and this is Sunni."
"Raine Maida? Like the lead singer from Our Lady Peace?"
"Yes. I like the sound of his name, so I decided to call myself that for a while."
"And I went with Sunni because it balances Raine," the male one put in. "That's Sunni with an 'i,' not a 'y.' Hmm. I might change it if I have to explain that too many times."
I nod as if whimsically changing your name every day is normal.
"Well, Sunni and Raine, it's nice to meet you both. I'm Robyn with a 'y,' not an 'i.' I guess that kind of matches the nature theme you two have going on, so, uh, I hope we'll get along."
They smile enthusiastically and Sunni even claps his hands a little, saying,
"Cool! Let's go see the city!"
Together we stroll through the arcades. It's warm in this time, whether as a product of climate control or climate change I don't know. The air is soft, silken with humidity and warmth. Despite the cooling cross-breezes in the arcades it's hot enough to be uncomfortable for me, dressed the way I am. I start to sweat. Raine notices and asks,
"Aren't you hot? You should take off all of that, you know, clothing. You don't have to be ashamed now. Just look at us!"
They gesture to themselves and each other, pointing out their naked bodies (as if I hadn't noticed).
I should want this, I think. I've always said I'd love to go around topless in summer if I could do it without getting ogled or harassed. But now that I have the chance, I feel shy, unsure of myself in this new time and place. I don't know what this world is like yet, so I want to keep covered up a little longer, until I can adjust. Still, I can't deny that my outdoor clothes, suited for a cool Canadian spring day, are too heavy for the balmy weather.
I explain this to the twins and they oblige me by taking me to a shop where I can get clothing suitable for this era. The twins casually explain that many people in the future still want to run, play sports, or do physical labour in the city, and for that they need both support and protection. The shop they take me to, if I can call it a "shop," provides clothes for all kinds of purposes. But instead of being full of racks of mass-produced merchandise, like the stores I know, this place is almost like an art gallery where individual items are displayed as shimmering images hanging in the air. At first I think it's just a kind of visual catalogue that you order from, but when I reach out to touch an image of a top, I can feel the fabric under my fingertips. Pulling on the fabric lets me draw a physical copy of it out of the image, as if it was created from the hologram template on the spot. (Later, I'd learn that my first impression of material clothes being spontaneously generated out of pure energy wasn't far from the truth.) The twins explain how each image-template can be customized to my preferences in terms of colour, material, and fit. If I don't customize it I'll get what's displayed, and the city will fit the clothes to me as needed when it generates them.
