Excerpt

The little red shopping cart rumbled across the store, a lopsided wheel vibrating everything inside. Glass clinked against metal as I added another bottle of Three Credit Fred to the basket. Three red, three white, and that case of cheap beer I picked up at Food4Cheap would have to be enough. My wallet wouldn't stretch any farther.

"That register is opening." The voice was deep, with the faintest twinge of a drawl and a subtle rasp that sent a wave of warmth through my body. I turned, and a Hawaiian-shirted Thor smiled at me. Nearly two meters tall, longish blond hair tied back, a faint hint of stubble on his chiseled cheeks. Bright blue eyes and a dimpled smile. This man should be working as a model or actor, not a cashier at the Luna City Milo's Trading Post.

"Thanks." At least I tried to say thanks. My tongue stuck to my teeth, and it came out as an inarticulate mumble. He winked and moved away.

"Damn," I whispered. He must be new—I'd been shopping at that store for months and never seen him before. I'd have to come up with a clever line for the next time he checked me out. Surely, there'd be a next time? I'd been practicing good Karma my whole life—this would be an excellent time for payback.

I waved my NexUs cuff at the check-out screen, and the system registered my identity, deducted the amount of the groceries, and sent a receipt to my account. While the bot loaded the groceries into collapsible crates and stacked them in a drone, I peered around the store, trying to locate Thor. No luck. My Ncuff vibrated, and I confirmed the delivery address. With one last hopeful look and several grumpy glares from shoppers trying to get past me to the door, I gave up.

The L train dumped me in the lobby of my apartment building. I took the drop chute to the seventh floor and waved my Ncuff at the door plate. The door slid open.

"Welcome home, Katie. Did you have a good day?"

The house system still gave me the creeps. Its friendly voice and HumanChat feature were designed to make the user comfortable, but its inability to detect sarcasm reinforced its mechanical nature. I could have set it to use a more robot-like interface—which I infinitely preferred—but Harry liked "Hummy." And the low-end model in our apartment wasn't up to multiple, user-specific personalities.

"Who's coming to the party?" I went into my bedroom and changed clothes while Hummy reeled off a list of names. Half of my office and a bunch of gamer friends of Harry's. Plus a few college friends. I could count on some of them to bring booze and snacks to supplement my meager shopping trip.

"A delivery has arrived," Hummy said. "Shall I open the door?"

"Yes, please." I rolled my eyes at myself. Look at me being polite to the house bot—I refused to call it an AI because it wasn't. Intelligent, that is. Or at least it wasn't self-aware like in a movie. I met the drone in the living room.

The box slid into the room, using mag-lev tech to hover over the rails set in the floor. It stopped about a meter inside. The side wall opened. An arm unfolded from the top, pulled the crates of food and wine from the body of the drone, and deposited them on the floor. Music played, and a voice-over started. "Thank you for shopping at Milo's Trading Post. Please rate your visit on the YesPlease app and earn a code for a free single-serve ice cream. Some restrictions apply."

I lifted one crate and walked through the hologram of dancing dairy desserts to deposit the wine in the kitchen. Nicer places had mag-lev rails all the way to the kitchen, but we had to carry stuff from the door. Not that it was very far. Our "kitchen" was a sink and fridge in one corner of the living room. I stuck the wine into the cooler and retrieved the other crate.

While I unloaded chips and dips onto the counter, the music stopped, and the door opened and closed again. I finished putting away my purchases in blessed silence.

At the bottom of the second crate, I found a box of mints I hadn't bought. Milo's must have a surplus of the things—they'd been hawking them for the last few weeks. Now, apparently, they'd resorted to adding them to unsuspecting shoppers' orders. I tapped my Ncuff and scrolled through the receipt. "They charged me for it! Two credits for a box of mints I didn't want!"

I looked at the ingredients on the tin. Mostly chemicals—no wonder they couldn't sell the things. I stepped into the bedroom and stashed the mints on my dresser. I'd return them Monday—the store wasn't far from my office. And I'd write a blistering review on YesPlease. Adding unwanted items to a customer's order was not good for business.

"Yo, Katie!" Harry's voice echoed through the tiny apartment.

"Welcome home. How was your day?" Hummy said. According to the specs, the thing didn't differentiate between me and Harry, but it always sounded more sultry when it spoke to him.

"It was a day, Hummy." Harry stuck his head through my bedroom doorway. "You got all the goods?"

"Nice to see you, too. I got beer, wine, food. Do you have the music ready?"

He made finger guns at me. "You know it!"

"No magic tonight, right?" I followed him into the living room. "You promised!"

"But I have a new card trick!" He whipped a deck of cards out of his back pocket and fanned them out. "Pick a card—any card!"

"No." I crossed my arms and shook my head. "No magic. You picked the music, and the menu, and the games. You don't get to do any magic. That was the deal."

"If someone asks—" His smile held hope.

"If someone asks." They wouldn't. At least none of his friends would. And I warned all of mine.

"Rad."

"Where do you get this ancient slang? Been hanging out in the retirement pod?" I started pulling glasses out of the cupboard and arranging them on the tiny counter next to the sink.

Harry worked in the security department at a retirement center. "Those old dudes got it going on." He grabbed a bag of chips and ripped it open with his teeth.

"Did they teach you that, too?" I handed him the scissors. "No teeth—other people are eating those."

He grinned and hacked the ripped edge off the bag. "All hygienic." He dropped the torn scrap into the recycler and tossed the scissors on the coffee table.

"Get to work." I threw another bag of chips at him. "And dump those in a bowl."

He grabbed a bright red plastic bowl off the top shelf and poured the contents of the bag into it. "Right ritzy, we are."

Hummy chimed and announced our first guests. "Citizens Walsh and Zhaeng have arrived."

"Awesome." Harry tapped Hummy's screen and set the door control to open. Then he hooked his audio device to the speaker and music blared. "Let 'em in!"

Our apartment filled rapidly. Friends, neighbors, and coworkers deposited food and beverages on any horizontal surface they could find. The music thumped and people danced.

"How drunk am I?" My best friend, Marjatta, slouched against the wall near the door. "What did you put in that punch?"

"What punch?"

She raised an unsteady hand to point at the coffee table. The chips had disappeared, and the big red bowl now held dark liquid and a few chunks of ice. As we watched, a new arrival dumped the contents of an unlabeled bottle into the bowl, then scooped out a cup and wandered away.

"You might want to avoid the punch." I sipped my second glass of wine. I'd always been a bit of a lightweight, so I had a decent buzz going already. "Have some of Sariah's Skitchy bread. It's to die for." I held out my plate.

Marjatta grabbed a chunk of bread and dipped it into a puddle of dip.

"You might not want to mix those two—"

Too late. She pushed the gooey blob into her mouth and chewed. Within seconds, her eyes bugged out, and her face turned a sickly shade of green. She clamped a hand over her mouth and lunged toward the bathroom.

I bit my lip and shoved the plate into the recycler. As I straightened, I caught a glimpse of Hummy's screen. Harry had overridden the audio notifications, but she still posted guests' names as they arrived. The newest arrival flashed in big letters, filling the screen, then was added to the bottom of a pale gray list in the background. Later, we'd have a record of who attended, in case there were any issues or quarantines.

The newest name was one I didn't recognize. John Smith. An old-fashioned name—something I'd expect to be attached to one of the residents of Harry's old folks' home. I turned to scan the people by the door and spotted him.

Hawaiian Thor.