In the preview pane on the monitor, the sky glowed a dusty rose color, before flaring into blazing pink. Colorful shapes began to rise from the horizon in all directions—blue and purple and green, lines and triangles and arabesques—then converged above Goldwalk, shifting and snaking around one another before coming together to form an abstract image. Abstract, but lovely; so many images and subtexts could be parsed from it, Niola was sure, each differing with experience, context and mood.
"So, what do you think?" Farrah said, letting the preview fade to black. "I call it 'Perspectives Through Time.' It encapsulates how our ideas and conceptions change over time and with experience. They grow, they merge, they...evolve."
"It's a beautiful piece," Niola replied, still looking at the monitor as if expecting something more. "How long does it run?"
"About an hour, give or take. I'll be drawing some extra images live."
"I'd err on the side of 'take,' if I were you. The Administrators have insisted that the new quarter start precisely on the second."
"Why do you let them push you around? Every quarter, the solstice festivities take place in Goldwalk, and every quarter, you organize most of them. If you want the new quarter to start mid-performance, you should be able to demand so."
"And give them an excuse to take the festivities elsewhere?" She shook her head. "No, Goldwalk is the perfect venue, because it is welcoming to everybody. If they move it to Highrise, they make it less accessible to the working class. If it moves to Sunset, it will be for no one but the elite."
"You have a point." Farrah laid one of her gloves on the table before her, flipped up the jewel on the back of it to reveal a port, and connected it to the monitor. "I admire your dedication to the neighborhood, and to the people of Cloudbank."
"Thank you. I feel such a deep connection to Goldwalk. I remember walking through the plaza with my family when I was young, astonished at the diversity of people, voices, art, and food that converged here." She sighed. "Things seemed more vibrant then, people more adventurous, more playful. They used their voices to express their individuality, not to fall into step with one another."
"Now that you mention it, Cloudbank has become painfully predictable, of late. Which makes our jobs even more important. You bring the people, Niola, and I'll remind them what beauty and passion look like."
"And that they remain accessible, right?"
"Right! We all have the power to create beauty. The sky looks blue only 'cause we want it to. We could have a different color every day of the week, of the year!" She finished calibrating her glove, then looked at the sensors on the fingertips. "It's up to us to remind them."
Smiling, Niola placed her hand on Farrah's and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For listening to me. For understanding."