“It was those luddites,” Heldeb grumbled. “They’ve got themselves some new old-fashioned contraption. An impossibly loud one.”<\/p>\n
These remarks were directed toward a nebrium-plated breakfast droid, which, detecting Heldeb’s frustration, extended two shiny pseudopods to rub his temples.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“Gich is a forward-thinking planet,” Heldeb continued. “We have the greatest scientists in the Dabalrlaba Sector. Our technology is envied throughout outer space.” He stared into the breakfast droid’s optical sensor. “I heard a joke the other day: What does an unemployed Gicher get his grandmother for her 250th birthday?”<\/p>\n
The breakfast droid stared back.<\/p>\n
“A bathode co-deprocessor!”<\/p>\n
Heldeb forced a stifled chuckle. The droid did not react. Heldeb coughed, frowned, sighed.<\/p>\n
“I know, it’s an unfair stereotype. But the point is valid: There’s no place for luddites in Gicher culture. Those women would be happier on Hed, living in the jungle, hunting raptorshives for dinner. Down here they’re just a nuisance.”<\/p>\n
The breakfast droid, sensing that its duties would be somewhat protracted on this particular morning, began to extrude an additional sausage link.<\/p>\n
“I sound like an old fogey, don’t I? So quick to decry the luddism of youth. I’m sure I would have been as excited as they are about that antique robot when I was their age. Of course, when I was their age, that robot wouldn’t have been an antique.”<\/p>\n
Heldeb accepted the sausage and took a tiny bite. His distant look, his zestless chewing, the dilation of his pupils and his dual heartrates: The breakfast droid recorded all these data, analyzed and synthesized them, and concluded that it was necessary to brew 71% of a cup of coffee.<\/p>\n
“I guess…” Heldeb set his fork on the plate. His eyes lit up. The breakfast droid executed a quick recalculation. He gritted his teeth, picked up his fork. He sighed. He set his fork down again. The droid emitted an inaudible screech.<\/p>\n
“That’s what it is. Those girls just remind me of how old I am. They remind me of how lame I was, when I was their age. And they have each other.”<\/p>\n
Now Heldeb looked up, across the room, at a framed holocameo, covered with a black veil and draped by red Himmerian lilies. The lilies had been dusted with solid malgesite: They would never pale, never wilt. The holocameo would last forever, too, but in recent years Heldeb rarely lifted the black veil.<\/p>\n
The breakfast droid decided to print an extra coffee cup, just in case. Heldeb turned toward the window. The luddites’ habi-dome was a refracted congeries of shimmering shapes. It would be unrecognizable to anyone who didn’t have to look at it every day.<\/p>\n
“Maybe I’m the one who should move,” said Heldeb. “Maybe, if things were different, I could be a different person. Maybe I could be happier.”<\/p>\n
The breakfast droid absorbed these thoughts in silence. Heldeb sipped his coffee. It was perfect.<\/p>\n
“Thanks, breakfast droid,” he said.<\/p>\n
There was no need for the droid to respond, and it did not.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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