Negative Energy

Popcorn Popper

The Venus flytrap orchid was thriving under Matt's attentive care. He felt a special connection to it, an inner warmth coupled with a gentle urge to caress its leaves. Its labellum was supple and slightly oily, much like how Ina's lips had felt against his cheek. By contrast, the Mickey popcorn popper seemed tacky and artificial. What had he been thinking? Ina had given him a one-of-a-kind genetic marvel, and all he had to offer in return was plastic nostalgia. His misgivings were getting the upper hand when he stumbled upon a new feature of his Nex, the ability to mote—call up courage on demand. Why not approach Ina anyway? In a world where novel experiences could be ordered up on demand, maybe some tangible nostalgia would be a refreshing change. Besides, what did he have to lose?

Ina's apartment was just down the hallway. He knocked quickly before he lost his nerve. When was the last time he had asked a woman out? Not since his freshman year of college, which felt fitting given his freshman body.

Ina cracked open the door. Music was playing inside, something loud and Latin. Matt caught a glimpse of a festive street scene. Was she having a party in there? "Hi," she greeted, "what have you got there?"

"It's a wem," Matt said.

"A what?"

It had sounded cleverer when he rehearsed it. "W-E-M, as in Well Engineered Machine. You put oil and popcorn kernels in the base, then it heats them up and pops them out Mickey's nose. Don't quest it. This type of advanced technology can only be operated by an experienced professional. I brought the oil and kernels." He held up the pressure-sealed baggies.

Ina laughed. "Now this I have to see. Just give me a minute to tidy up. I wasn't expecting company." True to her word, she returned after a short while and invited him in. The layout of the apartment was the same as his but with different ambience and a lot more clutter. Half of the living room was taken up by polymat crates brimming with colorful fabrics and other craft materials. "Excuse the mess," she said. "I'm in the middle of a big project."

The hall had been transformed from street party into dense tropical rainforest. Festooned with lianas, mast-like trees soared skyward to spread their tattered clouds of leaves. Spears of sunlight slashed through the gaps, turning patches of moss into green velvet and silvering the blades of jungle ferns. Here and there was the orange fountain of a bird of paradise in bloom.

"This way, Dr. Livingstone." Ina led him into the sunroom where trays of young sprouts were suspended from the ceiling by liana-like cords. There were at least a hundred of them, all about a couple inches high. "Watch your head on those low ones. They're not holograms."

"More of your GeMs?" Matt asked, wondering if there was an atom tax on plants.

She nodded. "Specially adapted for heat tolerance and high particulate levels. I'll give you the full lecture sometime." She scanned the room, settling on a corner of the counter farthest from any plants. "You can put your wem thingy over there."

"It's not dangerous," Matt said. "It's even rated safe for children."

"Look at it from the orchids' point of view. It's a machine for exploding seeds."

"Fair point. Say, these plants aren't carnivorous, are they?"

"Don't worry. I just fed them. Did you design this masterpiece of engineering yourself?"

"I can only aspire to such greatness. This is an original, dreamed up by an underpaid Disney imagineer a hundred years ahead of his time."

"An original, huh?" She stroked Mickey's ear with reverence. Then she reached up and gave Matt's ear a playful tug. "Which is more than I can say for you. Where did you find it? You can't just order up relics like this in your pickup box."