Zurich Meet Tomorrow by Alastair Reynolds - Book - Page 2
M E E T T O M O R R O W
It’s a warm morning in 2050, in the Makoko floating district of
Yaba, Lagos.
Amaka, interior designer to the stars, has just finished her
breakfast of Moi-Moi and spiced tea. She washes, makes
herself presentable, collects a new set of black garments,
stuffs yesterday’s cast-offs into a recycling bag, and drops it
on the doorstep, next to the blue-green ribbon of the urban
canal.
She hefts a ragged but serviceable canvas shoulder-bag.
It contains nearly all her worldly possessions, the most valued
of which are reams of handmade paper, six treasured brushes,
a tin of watercolours, a clutch of expensive Swiss pencils and
several bottled Chinese inks.
‘That’s it?’ Mitsu asks.
‘You know me by now,’ Amaka answers. ‘Travel lightly.’
‘There’s light ... and there’s that.’ Mitsu offers her a stern,
older-sisterly look. ‘You do remember who you’re meeting later
today – how much is at stake?’
‘It’s fine, Mitsu: between you and my mother, how could
I forget?”
‘We both have your best interests at heart. At least you
have your materials.’
Amaka reaches for her hat – judging by the pitter-patter
on the solar panels it’s still drizzling. ‘Close up the apartment,
please, Mitsu. And check all the cupboards and cabinets in
case I’ve left anything behind. Under the bed, too.’
‘I will.’
‘I’ll see you this evening in Accra. Wish me luck.’
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