Supercute Futures

by Martin Millar

Genres: Dystopian; Dark Fantasy; Humorous Fantasy

Synopsis

'Undeniably brilliant' - Guardian 'The funniest writer in Britain today' - GQ 'A Hello Kitty-type brand dominating the global economy and bringing governments to heel feels chillingly plausible' Herald Scotland Mox and Mitsu are Supercute. They founded the global business Supercute Enterprises as teenagers, armed only with a phone, a collection of their favourite cuddly toys and a love of all things kawaii. Thanks to them, the Supercute aesthetic is now a way of life. In a world dominated by massive conglomerates, Supercute has continued to grow bigger and more powerful, morphing from an entertainment company to a ruthless organisation fighting for their right to the world's water. Now Mox and Mitsu face a choice. In a world that is tearing itself apart, who will win in the battle for ultimate control - and where will Supercute draw the line . . . Readers LOVE Martin Millar: 'A bit like falling into Bladerunner via a manga cartoon. Like everything by Martin Millar it's both funny and sad.' Amazon review, verified purchase 'One of the funniest books ever written' Amazon review, verified purchase 'Oh my goodness, how I WISH it were real! Amazing, easy to read piece of fiction which will stay with me for a long time ' Twitter user 'Superb, hilarious, heartwarming, brilliant. A work of genius' Amazon review, verified purchase ' I strongly recommend this book to anyone interested in Cyberpunk ' Goodreads review 'Sex, drugs and anarchy reign - definitely not your average fairy tale! ' Amazon review, verified purchase ' A very British strain of understated comedy . . . a finely honed sense of absurdist whims . . . delightful ' Amazon review, verified purchase ' As always, Millar aligns himself with life's eccentrics, misfits and innocents in the struggle against politicians, military leaders, financiers and other idiots' Amazon review, verified purchase 'Had me laughing out loud on the tube' Amazon review, verified purchase 'Five Star Fab! Buy it, borrow it, steal it - but DO read it' Twitter user

Release date: August 27, 2019

Publisher: Piatkus

Print pages: 240

Sample

Mitsu liked her therapist. He was comforting. He assured her it wasn’t her fault that Budapest had been so badly damaged.

‘As I understand it, C19 had no choice but to let it happen.’

‘Not really. Not after what happened to Volgograd. Can’t do that to a Russian city and not suffer any consequences.’

It had taken a long time to find a therapist she really liked. She’d tried many different models. Mox had to like him too because they were always sharing therapists. They’d tried having one each but it had never worked out. Each of them would be too curious about the other’s so they’d end up going to both. Really, they preferred sharing. They’d been like that since they were three years old, when they’d first met at the advanced nursery school.

‘I just wish I hadn’t been involved. There were a lot of casualties.’

‘It could have been much worse if C19 had allowed retaliation.’

Their therapist was so well-spoken. They’d adjusted his accent, pushed it back to a type of cultured English rarely heard these days. Almost as cultured as Mox, and she’d modelled her accent on the previous Queen.

‘You might say your actions saved lives. No reprisals brought hostilities to an end.’

Mitsu looked down at her legs. Soft pink slippers, bright pink stockings ending four centimetres below her small silver shorts. Her hair swung in front of her eyes. It was silver, yellow, purple, pink and blue. Here in Supercute space it was controlled by Big Colour Super V-Hair; outside it was biologically enhanced. In either it could be any length, any thickness, any combination of colours.

‘You could say it saved lives. But when we started Supercute, we never thought we’d end up discussing which military action might or might not be supported.’

‘I’d say you’ve both coped very well with all the changes you’ve seen.’

He was so reassuring. Grey-haired, well-dressed, well-spoken. Mitsu liked her therapist. He always made her feel better. She remembered back to the time when artificial intelligence hadn’t advanced far enough for truly effective psychology. Both she and Mox had been obliged to visit human therapists. They’d never been as good.

The show would be starting soon. She touched a button on her wrist and the therapy room faded away.

 

Morioka Sachi, director, brought on Presenter Bear. It was almost time for the Supercute Show, flagship of the gigantic global corporation that was Supercute Enterprises, founded a long time ago by two young teenage girls in a bedroom in London, with only an iPhone and a collection of their favourite cuddly toys.

In their dressing room, Mox and Mitsu reclined patiently in their make-up chairs as four tiny drones hovered in front of them, applying the finishing touches to their cosmetics and the final tweaks to their hair. They’d designed the colouring program themselves, writing their own code when the best commercial programs didn’t give them quite the extravagantly cute results they were looking for, and their multi-coloured hair was now imitated by their millions of youthful fans around the world.

Two of the tiny drones withdrew, allowing others to take their places, these drones being responsible for attaching the tiny hearts and stars to Mox and Mitsu’s faces so that a colourful array of pink, blue and red shapes ran down their cheeks. Next came the sticking plaster over their noses, pink with a picture of Small Cute Presenter, a stylised kitten which was a fan favourite and a big seller.

Sachi’s voice sounded in the dressing room. ‘Three minutes, ladies.’

On stage, Presenter Bear strode out to welcome the audience, those watching around the world and those here in Supercute space. Presenter Bear was another popular character, an endearing fluffy brown bear whose image could currently be seen projecting from cereal packets all around the world.

‘Is everyone ready for the Supercute girls?’

The audience screamed that yes, they were.

Mox and Mitsu stood up. Mitsu looked down at her feet. She was wearing a delicate pair of embroidered slippers. She spoke one word.

‘Platform.’

Her slippers transformed, the thin soles extending by twelve centimetres, the uppers stretching up over her ankles, till she wore the platforms favoured by Supercute. They were striking, distinctive, and rather impractical, unless, like Mox and Mitsu, you’d had a lot of practice. Mox did the same, transforming her shoes. ‘Reflections,’ said Mitsu. A holographic duplicate of each girl popped into existence in front of them, rotating slowly. They studied their appearances, checking for any minute detail that might be wrong. Supercute never let down their audience. Mox examined the hem of her lavender skirt, beneath which showed four centimetres of her thighs, in accordance with the Supercute Style Manual, the rest of her legs being covered by matching lavender stockings.

‘You look fantastic, Mitsu.’

‘So do you!’

They smiled at each other. Like their friendship, their love of cute and colourful clothes had never worn thin. They heard the sound of their theme tune, ‘Destination Supercute’. It was loud, raucous, more so than might have been expected from their appearance. But they were idiosyncratic in that way and always had been. The Supercute Show had not developed from the judgements, opinions and marketing requirements of a corporate board; it had developed from the two girls’ individual tastes and their brilliance at relating to their audience.

A new screen opened in front of them. Ms Gibbs, production assistant, smiled at them. ‘It’s time.’

‘We’re on our way.’

They left the dressing room. Outside, two uniformed security guards escorted them towards the set. Mox and Mitsu strode along purposefully but when they neared the stage, their gait changed, so as they appeared in front of their audience there was a hint of fragility about them, a slight impression of delicacy which made you think they might need protection from the harsh world outside. In reality they were both so comprehensively enhanced with the most advanced biotech available, they’d have been unlikely to come to harm if a truck crashed into them, but that wasn’t the image they wanted to project. Their voices changed subtly too, so that they both sounded younger. Mox and Mitsu spoke sixteen languages and they could produce this effect in all of them.

 

Presenter Bear ambled around the stage. He appeared solid and moved realistically, just the way he would have if he were real, if there could have been such a thing as a real, human-sized anthropomorphised brown bear with large brown eyes and a winning smile.

‘We’re the world’s number one show, from London to Rio, from Paris to Tokyo! Here they are, Mox and Mitsu, the Supercute girls!’

Mox and Mitsu walked onto a stage that was colourful, cheerful, chaotic, noisy, and above everything else, cute. Colours were bright but never garish, the spectrum selected with infinite care so that nothing clashed. Everywhere you looked there were characters not met in the real world: tiny chibi figures scampering about, laughing and playing; smiling cupcakes and friendly strawberries sliding down miniature rainbows into comforting bento boxes. Sleepy kittens lay on plump pink cushions. Stars floated overhead, pink and blue like those on Mox and Mitsu’s faces.

A stream of fans from all around the world appeared momentarily on stage, laughing and waving to the audience before fading out of the space which merged with the real-life performers. Supercute elements were everywhere, in clothing and stage design. Bears were a prevailing theme but there were other animals too, kittens and rabbits and pandas and robins, and the plump dinosaur, Blue Bronto, a firm favourite, which had sold more copies around the world than any other soft toy.

The music increased in volume and for thirty seconds or so the musicians were visible, all dressed in tartan and black, a stylized version of a school band. Talented musicians, they’d become famous through their association with Supercute. They made a thunderous noise, again not quite the sound that might have been expected from the surroundings. The Supercute Show had always featured rock music and pop music from Europe and Japan, never once playing anything American.

Mox smiled broadly and waved. ‘Hello Europe! Hello what’s left of Asia and America!’

Mitsu waved too. ‘Hello Australia, hello Africa!’

In the control room, Morioka Sachi deftly manipulated the transparent screens in front of her before selecting some suitable-looking fans to bring on stage.

Six Nigerians, aged twelve or thirteen, appeared beside Mox and Mitsu, all dressed in their Supercute fan clothes, a great wave of bright pastels, short skirts, colourful T-shirts with slogans, tiny lavender cardigans layered over pink blouses, platform shoes, some wearing the popular Supercute medical masks in pink, light blue and white. Everyone entering Supercute space seemed to have extraordinary long, thick, brightly coloured hair in multiple shades. Most used the Supercute Big Colour Super V-Hair package that was an essential item for all Supercute fans. While they might not be able to have, in real life, extraordinary hair like Mox and Mitsu, they could in all the Fun Worlds created by Supercute.

Some of the cute and colourful clothes were real, worn at home and translated into Supercute space. Others existed only in that space. Many of them had been bought from MitsuMox Global Merchandise, but there were other outfits which were either homemade or adapted from older items. Mox and Mitsu never insisted on their fans wearing Supercute brands. In fact, they encouraged people to make their own. (Despite this, their own brands sold in huge numbers around the world.)

The fans danced and waved to everyone before Sachi faded them out again. Mox and Mitsu walked through the mass of cheerful characters, laughing as tiny chibis bounced around on their shoulders before jumping back to their companions. A miniature pink tornado tousled their hair then vanished. As they approached the front of the stage, the main camera angle focused very briefly, as if accidentally, on their slender bodies, before moving upwards to their beautiful, smiling faces. The show was aimed at pre-teens and teens, and presented as suitable for all ages, but for some teens, and older viewers, Mox and Mitsu provided an additional element of sex. They were well aware of this. It was never stressed but nor was it ever absent.

Mox waved. ‘Always nice to see our friends from Nigeria. Keep hanging in there! What have we got on the show tonight, Mitsu?’

‘All our favourites! There’s a new episode of Supercute Space Warriors and we’ll be talking to Shanina right afterwards.’

Shanina Space Warrior was a tremendously popular character. She led her crew through all kinds of adventures in the galaxy, displaying intelligence, bravery and a liking for Supercute outfits second only to Mox and Mitsu themselves. Despite being a fictional character she was often interviewed on the show. Many viewers had long ago forgotten that she wasn’t actually real.

‘Then we have the Supercute Fashion Show, a roundup of every new design in the new SuperGlam SuperNails pack, a report from the Supercute relief mission in Jayapura – our valocopter pilots have been busy – then we’ll be giving some tips for how to get through level six of Supercute Space Warriors nine, still top of the gaming charts after thirty-six weeks. We’ve got some fabulous new wings for Supercute Fairy Realm, and after that —’

As if from nowhere, a small shower of water sprayed through the air, touching the girls. They laughed as if it were a cheerful surprise.

‘What’s that?’ Mox looked round.

‘It’s De-Sal Dim Dim!’ cried Mitsu.

There was cheering from the audience as De-Sal Dim Dim bounced into view. De-Sal Dim Dim, the very cute logo of Supercute Greenfield, was another popular character. He appeared on stage as a smiling green figure about one metre tall. His face was already familiar in most countries in the world, visual representative of the huge desalinisation and environmental restoration business owned by Supercute. Since the multitude of natural disasters that had made the purification of sea water vitally important in every region, Supercute Greenfield had become one of the world’s largest companies. Their desalinisation plants could be seen on coastlines everywhere.

De-Sal Dim Dim spread his arms and sang.

 

‘De-Sal Dim Dim cleans your water

Make it safe for your son and daughter!

Nice clean water from the sea

Yummy goodness for you and me!’

De-Sal sprayed more computer-generated water around and the crowd on stage shrieked and laughed. Mitsu leaned over to talk to him. ‘How’s life in the world of desalinisation, De-Sal?’

‘Wonderful! I’ve purified so much water in Portugal they’ve managed to grow some trees!’

Trees appeared on stage, to fantastic applause. Mox seemed very impressed. ‘That’s great news, De-Sal!’

De-Sal Dim Dim burst into song again.

 

‘There’s a little problem in Mexico

They’ve got no water and the plants won’t grow

But I’m going there to help them out

Oh Mexico, I’ll end your drought!’

Ms Mason, Chief Executive Officer of RX Enviro, sat in her boardroom with senior vice presidents Mr Hernandez and Mr Schulze, watching the Supercute Show. Mr Hernandez grunted in annoyance. ‘These Supercute bitches are not getting their hands on Mexico’s water rights.’

Ms Mason showed no emotion as she replied, though it was a serious matter. ‘They already have. Once ZanZan signs the contract for attack drones, the deal’s done.’

A large representation of the ongoing Supercute Show floated in front of them. Ms Mason watched dispassionately; Mr Hernandez with interest, as he knew his children loved Mox and Mitsu; Mr Schulze showed irritation. If Ms Mason insisted on holding board meetings in RX Enviro space, he wished she wouldn’t fill it with nature. Business, in his opinion, should not be done with the stars above and a waterfall behind. Adding to his ire, he loathed Supercute.

‘The Central American Recovery Body should never have allowed Supercute ZanZan to expand into their territory.’

‘They couldn’t stop them,’ said Ms Mason. ‘Supercute would have rolled the appropriation committee over. They own all these people.’

‘Supercute and ZanZan Defence. A match made in hell. Why did C19 let them get together?’

‘C19 remains neutral as long as no one rocks the boat too much.’

Mr Hernandez shook his head. ‘If no one rocks the boat in our favour, RX Enviro is heading down the indexes and straight into history.

RX Enviro were a huge operator in the fields of desalinisation and environmental repair. For the past five years they’d been losing out to Supercute Greenfield and the situation was becoming critical.

‘If we lose all the Mexican desalinisation contracts to Supercute we’re finished.’

Above them the stars shone in a brilliant array. Mr Schulze frowned. When he’d first joined the company, you attended meetings by walking into a room and sitting at the table. He didn’t see that these gatherings in RX Enviro space were any great improvement. A discreet buzzer sounded, from an unseen secretary.

‘Ms Mason, it’s almost time for your call with Moe Bennie at Lark 3 Media.’

A small transparent screen appeared in front of Ms Mason. She touched it. Moe Bennie’s data file appeared, his profile rotating on screen and financial figures running below. Moe Bennie was, from his appearance at least, a nineteen-year-old youth with a taste in clothes not dissimilar to Supercute. He had long, light blue hair, rather large blue eyes, and wore a long pink coat over a dark blue shirt, or possibly blouse.

Mr Shultz shuddered. ‘Not another of these cutesy freaks.’ He had few points of reference to make sense of Moe Bennie’s appearance. Mr Hernandez did because he’d seen people like Moe Bennie in his children’s games. He looked like one of those characters his daughter liked who fought aliens with his magic space sword. Something like that anyway. Mr Hernandez hadn’t paid that close attention.

‘He has an interesting proposition,’ said Ms Mason, calmly.

 

Mox and Mitsu took a break after their dance segment, letting Plumpy Panda lead viewers through the piece on Supercute’s current relief mission. Supercute space was suddenly full of pink and white valocopters taking supplies to the trapped and starving population of Jayapura. Anyone connected to Supercute space was able to get on board and watch as aid was delivered by the Supercute female pilots, themselves celebrities, all dressed in the well-known Supercute camouflage. This was four shades of pink and had been fashioned by Mox and Mitsu themselves, basing it on a Danish army design which had long since disappeared from the world.

Mox and Mitsu sat backstage, sipping green tea, resting after their dance. They’d put a lot of effort into it as they always did, enough to tire even their enhanced bodies. These days they were brilliant dancers though neither of them had been especially gifted when young. They’d always been enthusiastic and confident enough to spend time on dance floors in London nightclubs when they were teenagers, but it hadn’t featured on their show in the beginning. They’d added dancing skills to their repertoire later, studying the art quite meticulously, the same way they’d studied mathematics and languages at school, physics and computer sciences at university. When they began to earn money from their show they’d hired instructors, learned their favourite moves from J-pop and K-pop, wide. . .