Good Transportation
Airlifts, escalators and moving walkways were free and all right for most day-to-day journeys, but any movement involving several levels meant resorting to The Weaver. This threaded its way between and around all the levels and offered fast access to every area of the entire Mall, at a price. A hydrox gas-powered Groble & Gribley masterpiece, the system had been interwoven with all the other support operations into the very fabric of the Mall. Its three-carriage trains were almost entirely hidden from view in a seemingly endless cylindrical tube that burrowed like a worm through the entire structure’s innards. No-one was sure anymore who’d first thought of calling it The Weaver but it had stuck in the popular imagination.
By the time Nat arrived at his nearest embarkation point, he’d long ago decided the expense of using The Weaver was well worthwhile. The only question was which class to travel in; precisely how much expense. There were three entrances at the station, each corresponding to a carriage and a class, each guarded by the familiar credit-extraction turnstiles and attendant mechanoids. Unlike the Night Entertainment Level’s pugilists, researchers, using the only relevant historical material available, had advised that this model should be dressed up as ‘Fat Controllers’. Buying a ticket involved punching the button on the key pad they held out to you that corresponded to the level you wanted to go to, then smacking your palm against their other hand to have the requisite credits extracted.
Nat hung back, dithering. The front carriage was the largest and cheapest. It was standing room only and always packed. In the middle carriage standing wasn’t allowed but the seats were hard and arranged for maximum density. The third carriage was for those interested in luxury: all thick upholstery and plump cushions, leg room to spare and curtaining that could be drawn back to reveal Virtual Reality screens displaying a stylised and idealised version of wherever The Weaver was passing at the time. The other two classes had advertising clips blaring constantly in place of the VR.
The options weren’t straightforward. Despite his naturally miserly inclinations, Nat didn’t want to stand; the day felt too special to risk being jammed in with some obnoxious oick for the whole journey. Going in real luxury was attractive – he’d only ever done it once before and it had made him feel good – but it wasn’t cheap. He looked up for help to the ad-vids playing above the mechanoids. They were surprisingly honest about the relative merits of the choices available. He concentrated hard on whether the all-inclusive luxury class services on offer looked like good value for money. The hosts and hostesses shown serving drinks looked rather fetching, all starched white and blue uniforms and pearly teeth. He checked himself. Today and forever more Melanie was the only one for him. The advert continued with its pictures and simplistic sub-titles, now extolling pampering yourself with a tourist trip around the entire Mall for a day, meals included. Nat thought he’d enjoy showing off for a while to some visitor from the satellite states and resolved to pay the price and be damned.
Just as he started to move towards first class, the adverts started on a different tack. ‘As used by the top-notch set’ ran the sub-title. One of the passengers shown sloshing a fancy drink around in a goblet was Phlascher. Nat stopped in his tracks. Until then, he hadn’t thought about Phlascher at all that day. Whim and Fancy, standing to one side watching him watch the ad, saw the colour drain from beneath the rouge on his cheeks. They exchanged glances and nodded. Without a word, they started moving towards the middle entry point. As they guessed, Nat too changed course; Phlascher was the last person he wanted to come across just now.
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