Print Your Own Paradise

The kid's just started telling you about the west wing of his mansion as the barge finally draws close enough to the city for you to make out the details of the green giant towering over the skyline. "...and that's where I'll print the pen for my pet shark," Mahmoud is saying. "Or maybe a whale. Can you print whales? Hey, Simulated Simon, you listening?" You nod, but you're not. You're staring at the colossus looming over Autonomous Floating District 34: it's Lady Liberty, alright. But this one's different from her East Coast twin, now stranded up to her waist in the risen Atlantic. Instead of a torch, her West Coast sister holds aloft a massive 3D printer nozzle, pointed skyward as if she's about to print the world a new sun. The barge pulls even with the dock, and the passengers surge towards the gangplank, eager to make their fortune in AFD-34. Seen up close, the floating metropolis is a psychedelic sprawl, a gigantic child's chaotic Lego plaything adrift on the edge of civilization. Structures of every shape and color jostle for space: towers, pyramids, and even what looks suspiciously like a full-sized pirate ship. It's all made of the same glossy polymer: plasticrete. Plasticrete, wonder of the Plastic Age: made from seawater, durable as diamond, stronger than steel and yet light enough to float in the bathtub. Or the Pacific Ocean. In the hazy distance, at the far end of the skyline, crawls a spider-like contraption as big as a building. That's the mother of it all: the Printer. A monster that extrudes entire city blocks from the house-sized nozzles danging from its belly. This whole place was supposed to be temporary. At least, that's what they told you in the briefing after they herded you onto the barge. AFD-34 started off as a facility to house refugees denied entry to the mainland, little more than a few floating habitats lashed together as a proof of concept. Then came the Printer with its advanced 3D printing technology, funded by the city's unknown "Sponsor." Now, AFD-34 has swollen into an anarchic city-state on the edge of international waters, a legal gray zone that attracts those seeking a fresh start—or a place to disappear. As the crush of bodies pushes onto the pier, reality sets in. This is it – the infamous "Plastic Paradise." A new beginning? A lawless frontier? A grand social experiment gone mad? Whatever it is, you're here now, and your first challenge is clear: figure out where the hell you're going to sleep tonight. Mahmoud tugs your sleeve again. "So, Simulated Simon, Can we print my mansion now? Where are we going first?"