AnyWeather

by Fabian Stenzel

Anna woke up at 9:30am. Not to the call of a rooster, nor the relentless burden of farmwork, but to the gentle ping of the Haus. Stretching, she tapped the bedside table to hear the message. 

“Your request has been superseded by another AnyWeather subscriber.” 


She rubbed her face, not quite awake, and definitely not ready for that information. She slowly swung her legs out of bed. Oh how she missed sleeping on her back, but the doctor said it wasn’t good for the baby. So every night, she tossed and turned, switching from one side to the other — always chasing a few more minutes of sleep.


Standing up slowly, bracing her lower back and rolling her neck, Anna called out “Juri! What is the Haus talking about? …Juri?” Her feet pressed against the cool stone of their bedroom, and she could see out her window a bright sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. Anna scowled at that, wrapping herself in her robe, and swaying side to side on a slow journey to find Juri.


Wandering into the main room, everything was as it should be. The kitchen was so clean it gleamed, the guitar and bodhrán had been carefully moved to their hangars on the wall after last night’s dinner party, and … there was Juri, huffing away on their exercise bike. He waved animatedly, and flexed his arm, which made Anna laugh. She walked over to him, and motioned for him to take the halo off. He removed it, and she could see a recording of an AR race from decades before.


“Are you okay? What do you need?” asked a smiling, endorphin-filled Juri.


“What is Haus talking about? Why was our weather request superseded?” asked Anna.


Juri’s bike slowed to a stop, sensing he was done for today.


“I have no idea. I turned notifications off for the ride.” said Juri, “Let's find out.”


He swept his hands out, pulling up the Haus screen in front of them. A flurry of information jumped out — news vids, social feeds, and the weather report for today.


“Didn’t you submit the request to AnyWeather?” asked a worried Juri.


“Of course I did, you can see it right there,” said Anna, starting to get annoyed. And worried. “It was submitted at least two weeks ago, when we knew the soya would be sprouting. It was so early that we received a discount for thinking ahead.” 


“Hm.” Juri was now flicking through the AnyWeather app settings, to make sure everything was in order. 


“Wait!” said Anna, and she gestured to herself and the screen floated over. 


“Hey! What—” said a surprised Juri.


Anna pointed at something in the corner of the screen. “There. What’s that?” She tapped the blinking sunshine icon and a notification opened.


“AnyWeather regrets to inform you that your request for our ‘Spring Rains service’ conflicts with an earlier request by *Mueller, Tom* that supersedes your own. We apologize for any inconvenience. Note that your account has been credited a full refund. For any further questions, please click here for more information.”


Juri’s mouth was open in surprise, and Anna clicked the screen for more information. 


“Tom? Why does he need sunshine? Can we out-bid him?” asked Anna. “What about the new PremiumRain option?”


Juri looked unsure “It will cost a lot, but…” and Juri trailed off, looking out their window toward their fields, and he continued, “...we do need it. And now I’m curious.” Juri tapped the screen indicating they would pay for the PremierRain service.


Rather than the happy rain cloud animation that usually responded to a request, a long document explaining AnyWeather’s conditions unfurled on the screen in front of them, and a holo chat popped up with a perky invitation to discuss their issues with the program. Anna sighed, flicking the screen back to Juri. “Looks like a job for the lawyer,” she said with a grin. “I’m going to make some tea.”


Juri, in his element, sat down with the screen. He stared carefully, with a furrowed brow, gesturing to advance the text.


Anna, requested a mug of chamomile from the Haus, as she thought “This will be disastrous for the DuraSoy crop if we don’t get rain in the next 48 hours. What would that mean if this harvest fails?” 


As the Haus chimed the warm mug of chamomile, Anna looked out the window at the field descending down the hill from their home. She remembered back to her grandmother telling her about what farming used to be like in this part of Germany. Mostly barley and wheat. Since then, shifting precipitation patterns had led to several global food crises, and large scale irrigation systems were in high demand. Those systems were complex and expensive. Their home, atop this hill, had never had access to a large stream or groundwater anyway. Waiting for rain had always been the only option. For Anna’s parents and now her own family, rising temperatures and higher CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere, plus genetically modified drought tolerant varieties, had opened up new crops that hadn’t ever been possible in this part of Europe. But they still needed rain.


She gently massaged her belly, sipping her tea and thinking back to the news alert three growing seasons ago. It had been a clear and warm day. She had just jumped down from repairing a broken network up-link on one of her agro-bots, and Juri had been browsing for new software tools. The name “AnyWeather” had caught his attention. It was advertised with “Pay for your desired weather!”. It had not been cheap, but the first request was free, so Anna and Juri gave it a go and asked for light rain. A few minutes later, they had seen a swarm of tiny drones flying over the area. In the next half hour, clouds emerged slowly. And about an hour after the request, the first droplets began to fall. Anna and Juri had been using AnyWeather regularly since then and the increase in yield made up for the costs. So far, their requests for precipitation were always granted. 


Until now. 


She looked back at Juri who was now deep in a conversation with the holochat, regarding the Terms and Conditions of the AnyWeather agreement. She walked out onto their porch, and could see over to the adjacent hilltop, where their neighbor Tom was hosting what looked like a small herd of children in his backyard. She waved over to them, but nobody saw her. She turned back toward her own fields, falling away down the hillside, and frowned. It had not rained for three weeks and the soil needed water to help the soya sprout. 


Then — Anna could see the tell-tale glint of drones high up in the sky. Rather than moving in a specific direction, or delivering something, they appeared to be hovering directly over their neighbor Tom’s hillside.


She went to walk back in the house, ready to tell Juri about the drones, when he came outside.


“It looks like Tom’s request for nice weather superseded our own.” Juri said. He showed Anna the flickering screen, which Juri had brought outside with him. The Haus’ network allowed the virtual screen to go everywhere in the house, but it was a little glitchy on the porch for some reason.


“Yes, I know. Now.” said Anna. And she pointed to the glint of drones high in the sky atop Tom’s hillside. “They’re keeping it sunny up there. I’m sure of it. Tom apparently is hosting what looks like a reunion for his entire brood over there.”


“Ah,” said Juri. “Well, I found the explanation buried on page 42: If there are conflicting wishes for a given area, the price increases by 50% for each new request, but the person issuing their request first can hold their request indefinitely. PremierRain subscribers supersede our baseline BestRain service. EliteRain subscribers may supersede a prior PremierRain request, by paying a fee 10x the original price for the AnyWeather service.”


Anna — dizzy from the incomprehensible tiers of rain services — and frustrated that their fate is somehow decided by the legal terms of AnyWeather, started marching down the hill.


“What are you doing?!” Juri shouted.


“I’m going to go talk to our neighbor. Like a normal human. We can sort this out.” said Anna.


She had to balance carefully on the cobble stairs, but Juri sprang down to hold her arm as they crossed the valley to go speak to Tom. As they walked, the hillside shimmered in the bright spring sunlight, the white flecks of fertilizer laying atop the fields giving the slope a speckled shine. But they needed rainclouds — and soon.


After slowly making their way up the stairs, Anna brushed a sweaty strand of hair behind her ear, and she waved to their neighbor Tom.


“Tom! Good to see you!” Anna said. Juri gave her an encouraging smile to keep going.


“Ahoy. Hello, Anna. Hello, Juri.” said Tom.


“Listen, Tom, I don’t want to keep you from your family. But,” and she gestured at her hillside and the fields waiting to sprout. “We need the rain. Otherwise our seeds won’t sprout. We need this harvest.” Anna nonchalantly patted her belly for emphasis, that ‘we’ did not only mean Juri and Anna.


Tom, seeing this, frowned. But he said, “My family is here for the first time in years. We want some sunshine to enjoy while they’re here. Doesn’t my wish count as much as yours?” 


Juri went to interject, but Anna interrupted with a compromise, “All we need is a good rain in the next 48 hours. That’s all. A good spring downpour should set things right for us.”


Tom still grimaced. 


Then Juri said, “What about during the night? That won’t affect your time with your family, and we can get some much-needed rain.”


Tom shook his head, “No. We are planning to golf. The rain will make the course soggy. I need something for these kids to do outside, and…”


“Our tractor!” said Anna. “While the sun dries out your golf course, Juri will take all the kids on a fun ride with the tractor around the whole valley.” Anna pitched her voice so that the kids heard this last part, and they all cheered, starting to chant “Tractor!”


Tom scowled, at being outmaneuvered. 


Juri went to complain to Anna — he didn’t want to host a bunch of kids on the tractor — but, Anna turned toward him, pointed to her belly smiling, and whispered the words “It's practice.” She grinned conspiratorially at him. Juri shook his head, but grinned, too.


Tom nodded, and said “Okay fine, you can have your rain on Thursday night, but Juri better be ready for them.” Tom gestured at the kids, now wrestling on the ground. Juri looked a bit frightened.


Anna laughed, reached over the fence and shook hands with Tom. “Thank you, Tom”, said Anna.


But then, both Tom and Anna looked down seeing their wristbands buzz. An update from AnyWeather.


“An overriding offer from our EliteTier has been placed. We apologize for any inconvenience.”  


Anna and Tom looked up, confused, at the sky and it was as if they could already feel a freezing wind coming from the East.