OGENUS EARTH 🌎 🌊 {Dystopian Sci-Fi Adventure}

Corazon

"You're looking a bit dingy there, old friend." Arturo's smile pulled at his skin, crinkling tributaries of fine lines around his kind eyes.

"I both resent and resemble that remark," MAX chirped in its distinctly synthesized voice.

MAX rolled up to its maker for his morning scan. "Your glucose levels are low and it appears that the muscles surrounding your lower back are still inflamed, you may experience some mild discomfort today."

"So, you're saying I'm an old rust-bucket too?" Arturo chuckled.

"Now, you're just making it personal," MAX replied, nestling up to the side of the bed to assist Arturo in standing.

"I can't smell burned toast." Arturo sniffed as he shuffled across the faux wood grain tiles towards his robe. "What's Midge making for breakfast?"

"Porridge," MAX answered, drifting behind Arturo at a cautious speed. "Better for your heart, she's adding raisins to make it a treat."

"Ah, well, my heart's had plenty of good years," he grumbled. "Let me enjoy my remaining few and give me a doughnut."

"I think I speak for everyone when I say that we'd like you to be around much longer than that." MAX piped as the bot rolled silently out the door ahead of Arturo. "By my calculations, you have at least ten years of full cognitive capacity before you start to experience any decline, and with my..."

MAX continued to chatter as it led its maker down the short hall to the kitchen. Arturo had tuned the bot out.

What's the fun of full cognitive function if I'm wearing a diaper? He mused. MAX wouldn't appreciate the dark humor behind that question. 

Midge's pudgy figure was hard at work over the smart stove, stirring a gloppy substance in a silver pot. Over her shoulder, a helper drone hovered with its extinguisher pump pointed in her direction. There had been a few unfortunate mishaps from Midge's cooking in the past.

"Do I at least get coffee in this hostage situation?" Arturo cracked, thankful for a human ear to bounce his jokes off of.

"Decaf." Midge giggled, turning to grin at her long-time friend standing at the bar top of their kitchen counter. "Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it." Arturo sighed, relieving his bones and folding his body into a modern-looking wooden chair at the table. "Black, please."

The rich panels of lumber and massive planes of glass on this side of his corner apartment made for spectacular views any time of day. Natural light flooded the angular furniture and beveled surfaces reflecting the glory of the city below.

"I don't know how you can drink this stuff straight up." Midge laughed, bringing him a piping hot mug of steaming liquid. "Too bitter for me."

Midge carefully wedged herself into her own seat across from Arturo trying not to spill the hot stuff she probably should have put down first.

"I'm not too bitter for you, am I?" Arturo smiled, clasping his hands around his cup.

"Not yet," MAX said from its charging pad by the front door.

"He was only a second faster than me!" Midge hooted adding a touch of almond creamer to her mug from a carafe on the table. 

Between them, the helper drone was portioning out two bowls of food.

They stared at the gelatinous stuff that always tasted like reheated paste, neither very willing to dig in. 

Midge couldn't help but think that the raisins looked like the bloated corpses of tiny flies bobbing around her food. She used her spoon to bury them beneath the lumps she couldn't ever seem to avoid in her cooking.