Goldilocks

by L.R. Lam

“If we could make Cavendish our world entirely,” Valerie said, leaning forward, her face animated, “if we could build it from the ground up, set the rules for everyone, how would you want it to function?” “You’re asking us to build a utopia?” Naomi asked. “Sure. Thought exercise.” “No such thing as utopia,” Lebedeva said. “People mess it up.” “Or one person’s utopia usually means someone else’s dystopia,” Hart agreed. “Come on,” Valerie said. “Try, at least.” They thought about it as the fireworks kept up their slow dance. “Well, if the ground belongs to all of humanity, then there shouldn’t be borders,” Hixon said. “No nationalism getting in the way of things. Freedom of movement.” “Not sure we’ll be able to shift humanity’s penchant for tribalism so easily,” Hart said. “Can we throw rampant capitalism out the window? Not saying we need to go full communism, but the whole desperate reliance on growth and inflation, the bubbles and the pops of the economy—that can go.” Valerie held up her hands. “As an ardent capitalist myself, sure. Though most of my money’s gone now, anyway. Liquidated as we speak.”