Sarsaparilla and Adalace:

About thirty two years after the Great Disruption, late afternoon:

Adalace sat in her home office, at her work desk, with a single curved computer screen stretching across half her visual field.

This screen was state of the art; its resolution was so fine you could not see the individual pixels even with a magnifying glass. The desk was solid wood, imported from Earth and made by an expert. Both were presents from various organizations Earthside that were grateful for her assistance in various things related to computers. And both had been meticulously entered into her Income Tax returns; with the constant oversight, she never had any chance to even worry about whether or not to declare gifts.

To the left was a bookcase. And pride of place was given to that VIC-20 computer from IronBark dome. When Adalace had finally worked out how to replicate the Artifact, and then remembered the VIC-20, the authorities were quite happy to find it and grant it to her.

Adalace had turned her comfy swivel chair and was currently gazing to the right of her desk. Where there was a floor to ceiling window, looking out over the Futures City Dome from a height of 400 metres. Their shared home was the highest in the rock face of the Dome; due to structural concerns the city engineers had declared cutting holes into the wall any higher might be somewhat unadvised. Since, after all, as the wall went up it also curved over and became the ceiling. And that ceiling was supporting one and a half kilometres of solid rock above it.

Both Adalace and Sarsaparilla were duly appreciative of the status of having the highest dwelling in the dome.

She idly watched a few dozen flyers flit around, plus someone in an ultra light glider making turns in the airspace a kilometre above the floor. She heard the front door of their shared apartment open and someone come in. So she got up and went out of her office, into their living area.

“Hello, dear.” Said Adalace, giving Sarsaparilla a little peck on her cheek, “Welcome home.”

Sarsaparilla greeted her back, then tossed the folder she was holding onto the coffee table. (Also an expensive gift.)

Adalace got two wine glasses and a wine bottle, and they both sat down on the sofa, facing the coffee table and also facing another picture window showing Futures City. They each helped themselves to half a glass of wine each, and sipped it appreciatively, while watching the lighting of the dome slowly transition to nighttime mode.

Both ladies looked fit and well and not all that much different from their teenage years. Those edited genes were certainly handy to have. Of course, they looked a lot more mature, and they acted a lot more mature. They even had a few lines on their faces, but not many. Modern day procedures did wonders in such regards. Naturally, there was not the slightest hint of faded or grey hairs. Whether or not this was due to more lucky genes, or the diligent application of stuff out of some bottle, was a question that neither one was going to betray to the outside word.

They watched the night-lights on the dome floor came on.

“What shall we have for dinner?” said Adalace.

“Well, nothing too complicated, remember we have Maggie’s fiftieth birthday bash tomorrow night.”

“Ah, that’s right. Let’s just make it sausages and veggies, OK?”

Adalace twitched out the codes, and the autochef began to construct the meal. This was yet another state of the art gift.

“So, how was your day, dear?” said Sarsaparilla, as she snuggled up next to Adalace.

“Not bad. I had a pleasant little time cracking the security of the latest AdaBlock program.”

“Oh, those poor developers! They never give up, do they?”

“Nope! I feel slightly evil for dashing their hopes, every single time.”

“But, still, you tell them, also every single time. So you’re not too evil!”

“That’s right! And how was your day?” said Adalace.

“Ah,” she said, pointing at the folder, “I’ve been preparing for a court case tomorrow. Some little shit decided to take the chance and kill someone. Very cleverly, I might add. It’s only circumstantial evidence and all of the clues have been thoroughly hidden or removed.”

“So, the authorities had no choice but to call you in, I take it?”

“Yes.”

“And?” said Adalace, with a pointed stare.

“Oh, well, let’s just say that my premonition tells me that it’s definitely going to be a Judgment with a capital J.”

Using the word ‘premonition’ was code for ‘a communication from Esmeralda’, one of the many little work arounds they had developed over the years to let them talk about such things without actually mentioning any names.

“Right, so you’re going to be doing your own little bit of evil tomorrow.”

They looked at each other, then raised their glasses and gently clinked them together.

“Yep, a little evil, but only the minimum required to prevent greater evil.” said Sarsaparilla.

Companionable silence for a while, until the autochef beeped and they got up to have dinner.