Malcolm stared out the simulated window as it made its descent through Shorai City. The window cycled through various camera views showing different shots of the city below and around them. He had to admit that the view was pretty amazing.
The large airliner slowly hovered through the jungle of mile high skyscrapers, twinkling in iridescent hues of moving lights and holographic advertisements. Roboto Corp featured heavily, showcasing models of home helper bots, industrial bots, and sleek client facing retail service bots. Vehicles darted around the city, flying in unseen lanes at multiple elevations, flowing through the city like water around the curves of the buildings. Balloons, gliders, and other gently bobbing unrecognizable things floated at seemingly random spots. People, robots, and other creatures walked across crystalline walkways arching out from building to building, some even higher than the plane was now. It was honestly a bit overwhelming for Malcolm, but this was the world he was going to be stepping into.
While the airliner had flown at an incredible altitude all the way from the East Coast to this island in the middle of the North Pacific, the sense of height never really struck Malcolm until it dipped into and among the towering skyscrapers of Shorai City. The perspective of being among buildings while still seeing miles down to the street surface was a sight to behold. It was only made more impressive with his knowledge that the city actually continued underground for miles yet, into ancient catacombs of a long forgotten civilization. Or at least that’s what the brochure sitting on his tray table said.
“That’s my new job right there!” Malcolm’s mom Zoe shouted, a little loudly over her earbuds. “That building right there, that looks like a pyramid with a long neck sticking out the top!!” She paused the view so it stopped cycling on an impressive structure that somehow stood out in an impossible city.
“It kind of looks like a boxy toilet plunger!” Malcolm said, matching her volume even though he didn’t need to. Zoe squinted at the view.
“Now, I’m never going to be able to not see that. I hope you’re happy!” she said, pulling her earbuds out and putting them away. She looked at Malcolm while he seemingly read through the brochure. “Are you? Happy that is? Are you okay with this?” A hint of worry crept into her voice.
“Yeah, Mom,” Malcolm said comfortingly, looking up and placing his hand on her wrist. She layered her hand over his. “It’s an exciting change, we’re kind of closer to dad,” he said, slightly stuttering over that last point, “and I hear this place is pretty crazy. But like fun crazy! Not like Uncle Bob who swears he was abducted by reptillians and forced to marry their queen, crazy. Although there might be Reptillian queens here. I heard things about the Overgrowth. Still if there is such a thing as Reptillian queens, why would she marry Uncle Bob, ya know? Like you’d think she might aim higher than a pasty squat mailman with a combover in his early 50s.”
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She knew her son too well, and could tell that this was the brave act of a boy who felt he had to be her pillar. A boy who shouldn’t have had to take on the responsibilities that he did, but did so anyway with a smile on his face. “Be nice to Uncle Bob, he doesn’t realize people think his comb over is ridiculous.”
Malcolm shrugged unapologetically.
“What do you think you’re going to miss most?” she asked.
“Probably the bagels. I’ve heard things about bagels from outside of Jersey. Not good things.”
Zoe nodded gravely, “It’s true. The pizza is likely to be terrible as well, just as a warning.”
The airliner's engines tilted further up, as it slowed its forward momentum even further. It was approaching the landing pad at a large building emblazoned with the words “VTOL Depot” over each platform. The platforms themselves wrapped around the tower, giving it the appearance from the outside of a corncob missing its kernels.
“School lunches are going to be the worst.”
“Hey, speaking of school,” Zoe started innocuously, “You know. As we travel from Jersey, to a seemingly foreign world on the west coast, if you happened to have difficulty at school, and then come across an Asian handyman that teaches you his martial arts forms while under the guise of getting things done around the building, and you eventually find yourself in a martial arts competition, where you take on an entire dojo of bullies…” she trailed off for a second, “Well I wouldn’t be upset with you.”
Malcolm gave her his patented dead pan expression. “First off, we’re far past the west coast, and secondly, this is another eighties thing isn’t it. You’re referencing something from the eighties or nineties again, aren’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, mock affronted. “I pulled that scenario whole cloth from my mind.”
“Moooom…” he groaned, extending the “o” into all its pitches. “Stop being so weird! It’s bad enough you keep trying to convince me to listen to your turn of the century music…”
“Green Day is not turn of the century music!” she shouted, this time a touch less “mock” in her affrontedness. “It’s… it’s…”
“Ma’am,” a stewardess said, interrupting while leaning in. “We’ll be landing shortly. Please turn off all your devices, buckle in, and possibly refrain from burdening your son with your nostalgia rock,” she finished with a smile, giving Malcolm a wink. He nodded back in solidarity.
“It’s alternative rock,” she grumbled while trying to fasten her belt. “Not like you’d know cultural touch...” she continued, fading out into huffs and exasperated noises, while Malcolm shook his head.
“Can’t take you anywhere.”
The engines flared as the plane touched down on the large outcropping platform, locking into place. The feeling of mild weightlessness they’d experienced mid flight finally fully dissipated as his weight seemed to settle back in. An overhead panel swooshed through its graphic as an overhead voice stated in a slightly clipped automated tone, “Welcome! You have arrived at Shorai City.”
