Page 5 of Tapeworld Induction

“That was close,” Dylan said into Talia’s coat. “You gotta be more careful.”

Her friend loosened her grip. “We’re fine. I’m sure the auto-car would have stopped.”

Dylan tsked. “Right… You really trust their algorithm?” She could feel it coming. Fucking hell. She’d just saved Talia, but her friend was still going to find a way to start a fight, however small it might end up being. Talia always hated losing.

“Goddess, no. Look, I’m grateful,” Talia said, brow furrowed. “I just don’t want you thinking you’re Superwoman. We were both lucky.”

“Lucky? That wasn’t luck, that was paying attention.” Dylan knew that if she hadn’t acted, Talia would have been burger meat. And meat was rare these days. No pun intended.

“Alright, alright,” Talia acquiesced with raised arms. “Just don’t let it go to your head. It’s not your responsibility to save the world.”

Ouch. That one hurt.

“You don’t have my parents,” Dylan told her. “I can’t help but try and look out for people. Is that so wrong?” Her eyes prickled, threatening tears, but she held it together. Don’t let it show. Don’t let them know.

One day you’re going to have to fight like we did.

Talia seemed to realise she had taken it a bit too far. “Of course it’s not wrong. I’m sorry, Dee. Speak your mind.” Her friend wrapped an arm around her as they continued slowly towards their destination.

“It’s just… everything is so fucked up.” Dylan took a deep breath before continuing. “Sure, those scientists bought Earth a few more decades, potentially centuries, though they don’t know for sure. That’s unsettling enough on its own, but everyone around us… Look. They’re just completely oblivious.”

The night was only just getting started. All around them down the street were city boys, business girlies, power folks, in business suits from their day jobs or dressed up and dolled up, all on their way to the various nightclubs and bars dotted through Shoreditch.

“They’re just trying to enjoy themselves,” Talia said. “Why worry about it?”

Dylan huffed. Not from the walk, which was fine after their near-miss with the auto-car, but from having to explain herself. She was grateful Talia was listening to her, but felt annoyed that she’d have to try and explain the same thing she’d been trying to get her to understand for some time now. Still, she tried again.

“When I’ve spoken to people my folks’ age or older, I get this funny feeling.” She eyed Talia, gauging her reaction. Nothing. “I can picture them going to the butcher’s, ordering a pound of cow flesh, then cooking it and serving it to their family. A living, feeling, intelligent being, mercilessly put down just because of how it tastes. People really used to eat animals. For pleasure! Can you believe that?” Angry or upset, she didn’t know which to feel.

Talia nodded, slowly loosening the arm she had around Dylan until she let go entirely.

Both kept walking, and Talia stayed silent.

“Can you?” Dylan prompted.

“It was wrong to do it. But is it really that bad? You know the First Men, in caves, what else could they do but kill to survive?”

Dylan grumbled. It was a typical counterpoint, and she didn’t have the energy to go through the argument right now.

“You don’t have my parents,” she said again.

Talia went silent.

The two kept walking down the busy road.

Some people still ate animals, of course. The law allowed it if you were born before a certain year, were used to a life of flesh-eating, or were somehow allergic to all non-animal sources of protein. And even those people were being canvassed for change. She would know – it was her day job.

She knew it was hard for everyone to live up to their parents. But it was even harder when they were Mr and Mrs Apocalypse Revolt and played a crucial hand in sequestering the planet from the hands of climate-change deniers. Dylan’s mum and dad were responsible for sparking a movement that meant nowadays most of the population was vegan, and the remaining fossil-fuel-powered vehicles in the world numbered in the mere thousands. It had taken a tremendous number of people like them to force the world’s governments to take action.

Her parents weren’t famous, though people might recognise their names. But Dylan knew what they’d done. How much they sacrificed. They did it for her; they told her so often.

It put so much pressure on her.

She hated it.

“Your parents are just perfectly nice, normal folks,” Dylan said. “Mine are…”

Talia only nodded.