A Day's Work on the Moon

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I just knew I’d work on the Moon, but, like, I never figured on getting a job there before I finished high school. So totally prime! I wasn’t even bummed when it was only delivering pizza–it was on the Moon!

Really, Dad started it. I was playing a game, ignoring my room, all pink and frills, a ten-year-old girl’s dream of a woman’s world. I was almost thirteen and beyond that stuff. The game was a cool new one. I was slipping and sliding my way across a marsh, full of lizards, frogs, snails, and other threatened and endangered species. The idea was to avoid running over them while hunting the rogue robots that did. I got points for incapacitating the bad bots long enough for a repair crew to reach them and correct their programming. You lost points if you damaged the bots too badly. Totally ace.

“Good game, Nikki?” Dad asked.

I almost jumped out of my chair. “Great, Dad. Way cool sim. You can almost smell the flowers. Course, bummer, I don’t have a VR helmet,” I wheedled.

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