AN EXCERPT FROM
A Story of the Future:
They waited in line for the auto. It slid silently to a stop and
the door opened. Tilan slid in first, folding his long legs. Rand went next as
Onedra sat across from them. It was roomier on the inside, but the windows were
small.
“Full view.” Tilan smirked a bit as he glanced at Rand.
Rand jumped as the walls and floors of the auto disappeared,
becoming invisible to show the whole of the city around and below them. The
auto began to move, and the frantic passing of the scenery made Rand’s stomach
turn.
“Visitor mode, please.” Onedra said after a moment, taking pity on
his grimace.
The auto slowed, allowing them to see the landscape more clearly
as they moved along.
Rand jumped when a dull voice came through speakers he could no
longer see.
INDICATE DESTINATION.
“Outer rim, fifth district.” Tilan rolled his eyes as the speakers
beeped in answer.
THAT AREA IS RESTRICTED.
“Passcode Alpha-Beta-Delta-Nine-Seven-Six.” He swiveled to catch
Rand’s eye. “Most people don’t have the clearance from the city leaders to go
this far, but we’re lucky that Farris likes our work. He’s influential enough
to make sure we can go where we need to go.”
“What do you do for him, anyway?” Rand asked, his eyes skimming
over building after building and street after street, each one identical and
all of them covered in the nickel silver coating.
“We procure things for him. Items he needs for experiments, or
tech that appears from the Tempus. The occasional eggiser if we get there
first.”
“You’re scavengers, then?”
Onedra stiffened. “We don’t steal, and we certainly don’t skin our
victims alive.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you do.” Rand crossed his arms. “You’re
telling me the scavengers are dangerous, then? That anyone who survived the
Tempus Motus might have been skinned alive?”
“Probably not.” Tilan raised a shoulder at Rand’s glare. “I’m just
being honest, Dr. Hazen. Scavengers have no use for the city or those that come
from it. They’re as likely to kill a wanderer as cook him for dinner. But the
travelers from the Tempus are important commodities.”
“Explain.”
“There are types of technology we no longer know how to produce,
despite what may appear to be our advancements. Things from ancient times that
scientists in this time would make a lot of money by re-creating.” Onedra’s
hand was firm on Rand’s knee. “People like you, Dr. Hazen, who have knowledge
of science and tech from the past, are very valuable.”
“So the scavengers might sell them to the highest bidder, then?”
Rand’s mouth was dry as the complex dangers of this new world were slowly
revealed to him. “Aren’t there laws? Police?”
“The gendarme have authority inside the city, but in the outer rim
there is no law. Scavenger tribes do as they please and are only hunted down if
they encroach on city property.”
“Is that why you’re trying to convince me that Farris is the
lesser of the evils in this place?” Rand looked to the city as the buildings
began to space farther apart, some crumbling and the protective coating peeling
away. The rust below was visible in some, and the streets below were layered
with the nickel-silver dust, gone dull as it fell. Some of it floated about in
the air, glinting like silver snowflakes in the desert sun.
“Auto, show map of the world, please. Indicate cities with red
dots. Scavenger tribes in blue.” Tilan pointed to a hologram that appeared
between them, suspended in mid air. A three dimensional map of the Earth was
formed, and then spread flat as a myriad of red and blue dots appeared.
“There are so few cities.” Rand saw perhaps a thousand, spread far
and wide over the world. The blue dots, indicating the scavenger tribes, were
far more prolific. “What happened here?” A large area in what had once been
Asia was empty of any dots at all.
“3015, China began geo-thermal fracking in an effort to survive
the energy crisis. In 3240 an earthquake measuring 8.8 decimated the area. The
destruction was so great that the fissures in the crust leaked lava. The
continent is still mostly uninhabitable.” Onedra pointed to another, smaller,
empty area on the map. “In the area once known as Mexico a deadly outbreak of a
virus decimated the population in 3330, requiring quarantine of most of the
country. The virus was contained, but the source was never determined. To reduce
the possibility of a world-wide threat several chemical weapons were deployed
over the contaminated area. The area is still off limits.”
“What is the total population now, then?” Rand asked. He thought
back to 2018, when their own energy crisis was just beginning, and the population
was peaking at 8.1 billion people.
“Three point seven billion.”
“So few. Are there procreation laws?” Rand had been present when
several such laws had been discussed in his own time.
“As I told you when we picked you up, there are no longer live
births from the womb. Instead, fetuses are carried in synthetic wombs, and
delivered to the appropriate family system.”
“Surely the scavenger tribes don’t adhere.” Rand could not imagine
the lawless tribes abiding by this type of procreation.
“Women of this time no longer have reproductive systems, Dr.
Hazen.”
Rand coughed, sputtering as Tilan slapped him on the back. “You
mean you actually can’t conceive
children?” he asked when he could speak. “How?”
“Long ago, I assure you. A genetic manipulation of an entire
generation that has become the dominant trait today.”
Rand did not miss the slight narrowing of Onedra’s eyes as if it
caused her some kind of pain. Women had biological drives to parent, he knew
this as well as he knew his own name. To be denied such joy as it could bring
to birth a child… he wasn’t sure he could understand it as a man, but he knew
it must hurt deeply.
“How do the scavenger tribes proliferate, then?”
Tilan answered, “They steal children, from time to time. Sometimes
they come into the city and take the orphans and the street rats, like the ones
we saw today. No one is turned away from procreation, no matter their
suitability for parenthood. There are the inevitable orphans, and the
scavengers adopt them as their own, so that the tribe doesn’t dwindle out.”
Rand sat in silence as the auto continued on, the city thinning as
the desert began to eat it up. He gathered his thoughts, compartmentalizing and
logging everything he’d learned, filing it away in his memory. He looked to
Tilan as the outer edge of the city began to show on the horizon. “What kinds
of ancient tech are the scientists after?”
“Whatever they can sell. I assume it was much the same in your
time.”
“Yeah.” Rand remembered the money race. The first to discover, the
race to be the first to get the grants and the recognition and the first to
change the world. No matter the cost in the end.
“Auto, slow.” Tilan leaned over Rand as the auto slowed, the
Drogher beginning to loop here back toward the city. This part of the beltway
was empty, theirs the only auto to be seen. He pointed below them to the span
of empty desert that butted up against what Rand could only describe as a
tenement. The buildings were one or two stories at most, made of baked adobe
and some metal, rusted and corroded from the elements. They leaned and some
even touched at the roof. Rand could see laundry hanging, and animals like dogs
lying below in the sandy pseudo-streets. Still, among the dull brown sand he
saw boxes of bright flowers on windowsills here and there. Finally, the color
he’d been longing to see.
“What is this?” he asked, staring down at what could have been a
scene from any major city in 2018. It seemed the fortunate and the less
fortunate would forever be separated, even three thousand years in the future.
“They choose to live out here, between the scavengers and the city
dwellers.” Onedra moved to sit next to Rand so she could see the area, too.
“Why?” he asked.
“When you are born to this world you have two choices, Dr. Hazen.
You can accept the life you have been born to, as most of the city dwellers do.
Grow, take a job, take a mate, procreate, and die, all while abiding by the
rules and expectations of the city in which you were born. Scavengers, too,
must choose to remain in their tribes and live by the rules of their people. Or
you can turn your back on all of it and choose to live life by your own rules,
as these people do. They are without the comforts of the city or the harsh
realities of the scavengers, but they are free.”
“Are the people in the cities slaves, then?”
She grinned. “Slaves to entitlement and expectation. Slaves to
comfort and blind faith, perhaps.”
“So there’s a revolution on, then?” Rand hated politics. He had
always let Lane handle the politics and he worried about the science. How had
he ended up in a future version of 17th century France, he wondered.
“A revolution?” Tilan laughed so long and so hard that he had to
take a moment to catch his breath.
“I said something humorous?”
“Only naïve, Dr.” Onedra’s smile was a bit apologetic. “To have
need of a revolution the city dwellers would have to care, and that is the
issue. Apathy. A great big bowl of not caring. They wake, they eat, they work,
they sleep. They return to it all again the next day. Alive but automatons,
never really aware of the world around them.”
“It’s called society.” Rand shook his head in exasperation. “It’s
been this way since the dawn of time. A few radicals want to shake things up
and take the world from a flock of sheep to productive humans. It couldn’t be
done in my time and I doubt it can be done in yours.”
“You didn’t have the Tempus Motus.” Tilan pointed to the mountains
that separated them from the wormhole. “It’s the key to changing everything.”
“And you think Dr. Farris is the one who can change it all? I
thought you said you’re only loyal to his money.”
Onedra laughed. “We may have exaggerated.”
“What’s so wrong with this world that you’d need to rip a hole in
space and time to fix it?”
“At last!” Tilan threw his hands into the air, “You’ve asked the
important question.”
“Well, answer it, then.”
“The answer, Dr. Hazen, is that this world is dying. Unless
something changes, and soon, Earth will be gone in less than one hundred
years.”
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