A Good Old-Fashioned Future by Bruce Sterling

killed anyone down in Ditheree so far,” Revel scoffed. “And come to think of it, one of my techs did check the first batch over with a Geiger counter. It ain’t radioactive, Tug. How could it be? We’re gonna use it to make toys!”
    “Toys? You’ve already got orders?”
    “I got a fella owns a chain of variety stores down in Orange County, wants ten thousand jellies to sell forswimming-pool toys. All shapes and sizes. I told him I’d send ’em out down the pipeline to his warehouse early tomorrow morning. He’s takin’ out ads in tomorrow’s papers.”
    “Heavens to Betsy!” exclaimed Tug. “How are we going to pull that off?”
    “I figure all you need to do is tap off Urschleim a bucketful at a time, and just dip one of your artificial jellyfish into each bucketful. The ur-snot will glom right on to the math and start acting like a jellyfish. You sell the slime jellyfish, and keep the plastic jellyfish to use as a seed again and again.”
    “We’re going to do that ten thousand times by tomorrow morning?”
    “Teach the damn robots to do it!”
    Just about then, Felix Quinonez showed up in his truck to try and find out what they’d just spilled out of tank four. Revel blustered at him until he went away, but not before Tug managed to set a dinner date for that evening.
    “Jesus, Tug,” snapped Revel. “What in hell you want to have supper with that old man for? I hope to God it ain’t because of—”
    “Hark,” sang Tug. “The love that dare not speak its name! Maybe I can get myself a Venus’s-girdle sintered up in time. I think it would be a stunning thing to wear. The Venus’s-girdle is a ctenophore native to the Mediterranean. If I can make mine come out anywhere near as gorgeous as the real thing, then we’ll sell
twenty
thousand of them to your man in Orange.”
    Revel nodded grimly. “Let’s git on in the garage and start workin’, son.”
    They tried to get the robots to help with making the ten thousand jellies, but the machines were slow and awkward at this task. Tug and Revel set to work making the jellies themselves—tapping off Urschleim, vivifying it with the magic touch of a plastic jellyfish, and throwing the Urschleim jellyfish into one of the aquaria for storage.They put nets over the storage aquaria to keep the creatures from floating off. Soon the nets bulged upward with a dizzying array of Urschleim coelenteroids.
    When dinnertime rolled around, Tug, to Revel’s displeasure, excused himself for his date with Felix Quinonez.
    “I’ll just work on through,” yelled Revel. “I
care
about business, Tug!”
    “I’ll check back with you around midnight.”
    “Fine!” Revel drew out his packet of white powder and inhaled deeply. “I can go all night, you lazy heifer!”
    “Don’t overwork yourself, Revel. If we don’t finish all the jellyfish tonight we can finish them early tomorrow morning. How many do we have done anyway?”
    “I’m counting about three thousand,” said Revel. “Damn but those robots are slow.”
    “Well, I’ll be back later to drive you back to the hotel. Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone.”
    “You’re the one who’s crazy, Tug!”
    Tug’s dinner with Felix Quinonez went very well, even though Tug hadn’t had time to sinter himself that Venus’s-girdle. After the meal they went back to Felix’s house and got to know each other better. The satiated Tug dropped off to sleep, and by the time he got back to the tank farm to pick up Revel, it was nearly dawn.
    A stiff breeze was blowing from the south, and a dying moon hung low in the west over the sea. Patches of fog swept northward across the moon’s low disk. The great tanks of Urschleim were creaking and shivering. Tug opened the garage door to find the whole interior space filled with Urschleim jellies. Crouched cackling at one side of the garage was the wasted Revel. Streaming out of five jury-rigged pipes next to Revel were unbreakable fresh Urschleim jellyfish,