Get ready for a thrilling ride into a future where robots and humans clash for control in RoboNomics, the updated and refreshed version of the 2013 sci-fi classic.
In Toronto, elementary school teacher Andrea Anderson's world crumbles when she's rep...
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"Andrea, we've got to go," Austin calls to me, forcing me to turn away from the sight of my friends fleeing.
He grabs my hand and we fly over the pavement, our footfall echoing in the now empty square.
But then I skid to a stop, pulling on his hand.
"Wait," I say.
"Andrea, we –"
"Just one second. I have an idea."
I retrace my steps for ten paces or so, and then shimmy through a crack in the tent, a seam. There they are, just as expected: piles and piles of plain, white boxes that belie their contents: ration packs, some toppled.
I grab two, and pause. I should grab more, but I won't be able to carry them. I tell myself that we'll come back. I rationalize the decisions by assuming that they'll be plenty of time to come back and grab more, even as I know that's not true. I turn away, legs pumping at top speed to catch up to Austin, whose already off and running again.
We don't slow for blocks.
"Come on," he says, urging me on. "I know where we can go."
When we arrive at Trinity Square, I see the wisdom of his choice. It's a tiny park between towering white office buildings and a church. We didn't have to run far or long to get to this hidden place, and it looks like we're not the only ones who the same idea.
The park is littered with people catching their breath against the tall, thin trees that line a central square of grass, on stairs, and on stone ledges. The grass is covered in a modest tent city, so I can't even see the central stone I recall is there, encircled by boxwood hedges.
Many who mill around crack open ration packs, and I catch snippets of conversation about the incident in Dundas Square to those who avoided it altogether.
Austin and I find a set of stairs apart from the crowd. I collapse onto it, feeling my racing pulse immediately slow and my breath gradually deepen. Only then do I hand the second ration pack to Austin as he sits down beside me.
Inside is more food than we've seen in days, and my stomach clutches painfully at the sight. There are two sandwiches, an apple, a piece of cheese, and a pack of carrots. I spot cardboard-looking cookies that I'll relish nevertheless, with dip for the carrots, a pudding cup, and bag of chips. There's also a bottle of water and a carton of juice.
I don't wait on ceremony. I tear the plastic wrap off the first sandwich and shove half of it in my mouth, allowing the flavours of roast chicken, tomato, and cheese to meld with the bun that surrounds it.
When the sandwich is gone and I've disappeared one of the cookies, my hunger finally begins to feel satiated. I glance over at Austin for the first time and see that he's farther along than I am, having downed a sandwich, cookies, and chips.
