TBoB - Book 3 - Chapter 49 - Stir Crazy

“Nyx, open this door right now!” I growled as I twisted the handle to the garage door as hard as I could. It didn’t budge.

“Working hours are between eight AM and six PM,” my AI replied. “You’ve already spent a full day inspecting the cleanup crews by the settling pool, you don’t need to check hydroponics.”

“But what if there’s a problem with the plants?” 

“Then the frogs would inform you, and I’d let you investigate. The operation has been running for several months now, with no significant issues, it doesn’t require you to do weekly inspections.”

“If I don’t do it, who will?” I asked. 

“The frogs,” Nyx replied, taking full control of the guard bear next to the door. They gently pulled my hand off the door and turned me back towards the kitchen. As soon as the kids had finished dinner they’d scampered to their rooms to do their homework. Jane was sitting at the table, tablet in hand, while Alan was sitting in the living room watching TV.

“You mind keeping it down a little? I can’t hear the news over you freaking out,” Alan called over his shoulder. 

“I’m not freaking out. I’m having a completely rational response to the fact that my friend and comrade has rebelled, and is preventing me from doing my job,” I muttered.

Jane sighed and put down her tablet. “I told you, this is for your own good. Sit down, read a book, relax already!” 

“I don’t wanna!” I pouted. “I’m too full of energy, I need to be doing something!”

“Go for a walk around the neighborhood then. Maybe browse the market,” Alan suggested.

“As a buyer, not to evaluate how healthy the neighborhood is,” Jane added.

“That’s significantly less interesting,” I mumbled as I stumbled over to the table and collapsed into a chair. 

“Why don’t you go hang out with Sharron, or Nora?” 

“They’re busy. Sharron’s out investigating reports of antithesis activity in the surrounding towns, with a couple of other samurai from The Family, and Nora has been busy teaching at her kickboxing gym.”

Alan shut off the TV, then turned around and stared at me over the back of the couch. “There’s antithesis activity outside the city? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about that?”

“Apparently it’s not uncommon for a handful of antithesis to wander into small towns every few months. They’re easily dispatched by the local security forces, but The Family likes to send investigation teams to make sure the antithesis haven’t set up a hive anywhere nearby,” I explained.

“You’re kidding…” Alan whispered.

“Nope. Despite all the satellite networks, and sensor nets, a couple antithesis always seem to squeak through.” I kicked my feet a couple times, and let them swing back and forth, trying to burn off my energy. It wasn’t working.

“Anyways,” I continued after letting that revelation hang for a minute. “Angeline is busy with family activities this week, but she’ll be bringing by Lulu next Monday, and Charlotte is planning a charity gala, so everyone’s super busy.”

“What about Hel?” Jane asked.

“She’s a bitch, and I never want to see her again,” I grumbled as I buried my face into my arm.

“Okay… first of all language,” Jane muttered under her breath. “What do you mean you never want to see her again? That came out of nowhere.”

“So did the needle full of sedatives she stuck in me,” I hissed. “Didn’t ask or anything, just drugged me up because she thought I was overreacting to something. So yeah, trust instantly broken. Don’t expect to see her around anytime soon.”

Jane and Alan both stared at me in shock for several seconds. 

“And you didn’t try to stab her?” Alan asked quietly. “You tried to stab Leah for just suggesting you take painkillers before.”

“Like I said, it was a sedative, it didn't knock me out, it just calmed me down. I was pissed once it wore off though.”

The others nodded wordlessly, they knew the story, I didn’t have to explain.

“So… you want to watch some TV?” Alan asked, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen over the table.

“Watching people fake being active? Pass,” I grunted.

“You could read a book, or have Sir Froggington set up some lessons for you,” Jane suggested.

“I already feel like I’m bouncing off the walls, pass,” I mumbled.

“In that case I have a list of sixteen thousand common hobbies that you can review,” Nyx said as they moved the security bear closer. “How would you like them organized? By popularity? Alphabetical? Or geopositional?”

“Sixteen thousand?” I hissed as I pulled away from the bear. “Did you want my new hobby to be reviewing the list? Pass!”

“Fine little miss cranky pants, don’t try anything new, but we’re still not letting you go out and work more,” Jane huffed before reaching down and grabbing her tablet again. Alan, likewise, turned back to the TV and started watching his show, leaving me head down on the table.

“I’m going out,” I grumbled after a couple seconds of being ignored. Slipping out of my chair I jogged over to the front door. 

“Have a good time!” Jane called as I stepped outside. 

The evening air was chilly, so I pulled up my hood as I stepped out onto the street. There were already dozens of vendors set up across the street, an eclectic collection of blankets, tables, and even the occasional cart. A couple months ago most of the people here would have been selling their gear out of a bag, so they could move at a moment’s notice, but now that they felt secure a couple of them started creating more long term setups. 

Most of the items being offered weren’t anything special, there was still a lot of salvaged junk or second hand clothing, but there were also plenty of newer goods. Things that would have only been available through the terminal six months ago. 

The top seller appeared to be, surprisingly, metal ingots. With the fabricators around, people could build pretty much all their essentials from scratch. Pure materials made that easier, so a couple enterprising individuals had taken to gathering the metals, and just breaking them down to usable materials and selling them to the non-scavengers. 

Rolls of fabric also seemed to be a big seller. I had no idea where people were getting them from. I thought the brokers were handling imports, but it seemed like there was way more material on the streets than they’d bring in. Perhaps some enterprising third party had found another source. 

As I wandered through the ‘stalls’ I stopped at one of the many clothing vendors. I ran my fingers down the rough stitching, and nodded to the girl behind the table. It wasn’t amazing quality, but it was better than the second hand shit we’d been living with before. 

The next table over had small plastic and plush toys. The plastic toys were crude, more blob than human shaped, the man was probably still trying to figure out the fabricator system, but they were better than what I’d seen last month. The stuffed toys were tiny, handheld balls, stitched together to vaguely resemble some sort of animal, with a cute face embroidered on the front. Since they were so uniform, they were probably practicing for one of the stuffy workshops that had popped up. 

I grabbed three of the better ones, paid the man in credits, and stuffed them into my hoodie. The kids probably wouldn’t want them… well, Issi might, but it didn’t hurt to support the locals. 

When I arrived at the end of the row I stretched out and checked the time. “Just ten minutes? How do people spend hours shopping? Are they insane?” I grumbled to myself. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with my time?”

You could go over the list, there are plenty of outdoor activities that you can still do in the undercity, Nyx suggested.

“I’ve never been much of a reader, and sitting down to read through a list feels like torture. I’ll tell you what, cut it down to the top hundred activities that I might actually do, and I’ll look at it tomorrow,” I replied under my breath.

I’m running simulations as we speak, you’ll have a perfect list tomorrow.

“Right, well, good,” I muttered, as I shifted from one foot to the other impatiently. I’d just started moving down the next group of stalls when I caught a whiff of a tantalizing aroma. Skipping past the next few stalls, I arrived at an older woman behind a small cart. She had a small pot of oil, and a basket full of chips. Unlike the ones I was familiar with, these ones were still hot, and smelled delicious.

“What are these?” I asked hesitantly.

“Vegetable chips, made with the local produce. Want some or not?” the grey haired woman huffed.

“With local produce? Sure, I guess?” I replied, suspiciously as I shot her a couple credits. She scooped a handful of the chips onto a piece of paper, passed them to me, then immediately shooed me away.

“Rude,” I grumbled before slipping one of the fragrant slices into my mouth. The flavor, enhanced by a little bit of salt, exploded outwards. “This is from the vegetables?”

And is extremely easy to produce. I’m a little surprised it took you this long to try the local fare, you were just obsessed with those bars. Jane did you a service by cutting you off.

“Extremely easy you say?” I asked between bites.

Cooking is number eight nine on the list. Would you like to hear my suggestions now?