Unnaturals Read Online Free PDF Page B

the bright light, once there.
    She pedaled, and pedaled, and didn't send a single message, which was stupid. Mom sent thirty-eight messages, each more worried.
    Well, what is she worrying about? What can happen to me that is not fixable? She is overdoing it! She can live without me for a few hours!
    Her friends sent messages, too—but if she didn't reply, they would just forget her. Mom wouldn't. In this, Mom herself was unnatural. She hadn't forgotten Dad yet.
    Mel sighed.
    Everything is fine, Mom. I saw a new friend of mine have a mate chosen for him. I am going to the home of another friend now.
    She was, though she hadn't known it a moment ago. She pedaled on. There would be rain soon. She got a broadcast from Annabella's official city feed that one was scheduled in five minutes. She got the broadcast again several times, once every minute before the rain itself.
    Mel didn't seek shelter. She pedaled on, faster, harder, the warm gentle drops that would have normally caressed her hair and face slashing hard against her.
    On, on, faster. By the time the rain was over, she was wet also from her own sweat. The following scheduled gentle warmth dried her wetness—yet, for some reason, Mel was shivering.
    Onwards.
    She stopped to eat at a FastNutritiousDelicious, Inc. place when she didn't have the strength to pedal any more. This must be hunger, she knew, though she'd never felt it before. It was a bit like a great experience from the mall. The food serving device gave her warm, nutritious soup, and she was halfway through it already, yet she was still shivering.
    The device poured her more soup and added a huge plate of potatoes with meat and cream, as well as bread. It also poured her tea. It must have decided that she needed serious nutrition. She remembered the time, years ago, when human employees would ask you what you wanted and enter this into the serving machine. The machine would apply its sensors to you only once a day to check what you actually needed.
    Everyone must eat well. Everyone must be healthy. These days, the humans in the food places only met you, greeted you, gave you their interweb address if you didn't have it already, then did their own things while the machine took care of you. The machine didn't ask you what you wanted any more.
    "I want ice cream," Meliora said, and pushed the soup away so hard that it splattered on the table.
    The machine changed the tablecloth and brought the ice cream. Meliora stared at it for some time, shivering, then asked for soup.
    ***
    She took the train to Nicolas' home. She didn't feel like hurrying any longer. No, she wanted to postpone the moment of truth—the moment when she would finally, certainly, know that he wasn't there. She wanted to postpone it as much as she could.
    But, though the trains were slow, they did arrive at their destinations eventually.
    His family had a private home. Like hers, then. This had been somewhat odd even when Meliora was a small child. Now, it was close to unnatural. Who needed physical walls between themselves and their friends? People ate together, slept together, messaged together, watched advertisements together, shopped together. Only mates slept in private rooms, away from other people. It was connected to being mates, to doing things that you would do with your mate and no one else. But you didn't need a whole home for privacy.
    Private homes were for unnaturals, and so were personal, unshared medstats and other stats.
    So, Mel expected unnaturals while the elevator gently lifted her to the seventieth floor of the home-building. She could have taken the stairs, but the welcoming device had determined that she'd had more exercise today than needed, and this time she decided to listen to a machine that knew better than her.
    She watched the people in the shared homes through the elevator's doors. Many slept, for it was still softlights time, but many played together, messaged together, laughed together. There was a couple of