That was the last bit of the before time. Now, we have the swarm, and it’s been very, very good to us. Sure, the stories closed, first the big boxes in the burbs, empty Targets and Walmarts in Yonkers and outside Newark. Then it was the big shops, mass-market fashion outlets and high-end staples. No one expected fashion to go indoors, but it did too, once a stream of delivery drones could carry every garment a person would ever want, right to their door, and then bring the panoramic mirrors, too. For the billionaires in penthouse suites, the ones we saw in their Oculus-cast VR-concerts, the drones were a stream of lights below, a moving robotic canvas for light projection. For us peasants below the swarm, it was a clattering buzzing ceiling, a bladed barrier to our ambitions, a robotic obstacle to the sky itself.