Library, Midnight, Human Brain

The librarian was not even human. She… no, it, was merely a human brain in a vat of chemicals with wires leading into the ceiling at least 100 feet above. It was the newest invention and creation of Amalgamated Brainpower: a cybernetic brain for database searches, particular useful to this last remaining library in the country. In any instant, it could find any book a user was asking about, even with the vaguest sense of what the user was searching for. No one honestly believed the stated intentions, though. No one believed that this government subsidized library really even needed such advanced technology. There was little interest in the National Library, and there stood in the middle of the main lobby a consciousness directly connected to a mere collection of books that none desired to have. Suspicions of its purpose have ranged from simply wasting money to a deliberate effort for subverting the validity of non-cyborgs. Janie did not believe either theory. She knew that the nature of Amalgamated Brainpower, a subsidiary of Cybernetic Technologies, was too closely involved with the previous decades cyber-internet war, too closely involved with the digital annihilation of online communities. All Janie had to do was break in at midnight, right when the brain performs its daily scheduled auto-maintenance. Her hammer was ready in hand, ready to use her technological knowledge to discover the true nature of this project.

School, Morning, Bird

“Stop looking at the bird and look at the board” was all Kyle’s teacher would ever say when he looked out the window. The teacher just couldn’t stand that a bird would be more interesting than her lesson plan. Kyle was only 9, so Ms. Kudosky simply told herself she was older and wiser, thus she had the authority over any student, the authority to claim that she was equivalent to an otherworldly being. 33 years old versus 9, how could such a difference be worth respecting a child’s desires? How could superior knowledge ever allow a temporarily ignorant child to begin to come to false conclusions based on assumptions no more advanced than a caveperson?

Ms. Kudosky had to educate her students, to teach them the truth rather than personal and subjective feelings that are the strongest in the young. Kyle was the student most at risk, he refused to pay attention. It was Ms. Kudosky’s duty to prevent the production of an ignorant citizen of society. Birds being more interesting was simply unacceptable, the important facts to be learned on this Monday morning were those of ancient Greek society and the collapse of Athens. Kyle had to focus, lest he became one of those thousands of kids in college who cannot locate Mongolia on the map. Ms. Kudosky knew that she was the superior in the room, nothing going on in Kyle’s mind could be anything other than distraction. The teacher saw herself as a sheepherder, teaching her flock what was valuable important. Any egoistic desire would only end in overall harm towards all these little future citizens value to society. “Adults always knew best”, Ms. Kudosky told herself, reprimanding didn’t have to scare her sensitivity towards negating the values of a lost child.

Ski Slope, Morning, Tree

The superski slope was a straight and steep downhill course, unlike the usual pulsing-wave shape of most courses. Each season had been more intense than the last, but it was more than just a step up for the 2032 season. The final tournament run would the pinnacle of achievement. Mark was preparing for his turn as the first athlete to ride the new Cliffdrop course. Controlling the skis would be next to impossible, given the initial vertical drop of about 30 feet. The course flattened slightly and curved leftward at the base, eventually leading to one more drop covered by trees. Mark did not think anyone would be able to complete it, but it had to be done. There was no other option, he prepared for hours upon hours, minutes ticking past as though counting down until the world would finally decide to notice him. The Cliffdrop was the end of that countdown, the time when everyone, the sports enthusiasts and regular citizens of the world, would decide if he was worth accolades. Turning back would be to acknowledge that he was worth nothing. He couldn’t bear to accept that fact. The slope had a lethal amount of trees; Mark believed there had to be a limit of what one is willing to accept, and this was it. He decided to turn around, regardless of any label of coward. Regardless of what anyone thought it may mean to back down from the challenge ahead of him, he did not want to be the first death of the superski league.

Mountaintop, Twilight, Energy Sworrd

The entire enemy force was running up the mountain, through the only crevice that was traversable on the entire peak. The moon was low in the sky, illuminating only Garion at the middle of the passage and everything behind him. It was as though he were the only one alive, the only one guarding the life of the entire planet behind him. The soldiers in front of him were in complete darkness, as though Garion had eclipsed the moon with his determined passion. The Jikud soldiers, with their tanned skin and dark hair, were seen as actual demons, set to destroy all that is standing in a glowing, holy aura.

Garrion, however, represented all that was unholy on the continent. Everything the Jikud’s represented, he stood against. He believed in the technology made of the effort of one’s mind and body, technology made without the help of Ukon, the creator of all the Jikud knew. He believed in living for the purpose of himself, not the unknowable. Slashing the energy sword created after his years of research, study and development, Garrion stood his ground, the bright yellow glow illuminating him as if he were a true immortal god that not even Ukon was equal to. Garrion had to protect his mountain-top home and his hard-earned way of life. He could not, for the sake of his own life, let the Jikud’s claim his property in the name of the holy Ukon.

Bookstore, Evening, Yoyo

“Put that away, it’s a disruption and you might hit someone” said the cashier.

“I don’t want to,” Maureen said indifferently.

Maureen was playing with her yoyo, but she had no purpose to be in the bookstore. She precisely wanted to annoy the cashier, make a disruption, disobey for the sake of disobeying.

“You need to stop swinging that in front of the doorway.”

“Make me.”

Maureen continued, bouncing the yoyo up and down. She didn’t care if she was being childish, even if she was 19 years old. On a Friday evening, contrary to popular belief about youth culture of the times, there was nothing to do.

“I’ll call the cops.”

“You go do that.”

The cashier reached for the phone, but stopped. She wasn’t willing to make a big deal about such an incident.

“Exactly, you don’t care do you? Well thanks for the fun.”

Maureen walked out. Nothing to do, it really is the worst feeling in the world. No school to go to, they all taught the same things. Everyone knew they taught regurgitated facts, not the thinking process. No jobs, they expected everyone to have gone through the intellectually empty schools. Enthusiasm and ability to think were never the important skillsets. Maureen didn’t have a thing to really live for, she was operating on an apathetic autopilot. At least it was fun to anger authority. She fidgeted with the yoyo, just like she fidgeted with her fleeting, short-term goals.

Park, Night, Knife

He threw the knife onto the ground. It was useless as expected. Harry was trying to defend himself from the Humanity League, completely without lethal weapons. They were wearing thick, bulbous armor, rounded enough that it seemed to be only fit for the obese and overweight. The red at the joins of the suit glowed brightly despite the darkness of the night. The moonlight illuminated the barely human and faceless forms in a manner that made the League look like robots from thousands of years in the future. Always anti-physical violence, none of the three League members before Harry had weapons. They just wanted to stop Harry from patrolling the dangerous park so late at night, with the marrowhawks in the skies above ready to dive at anything with the slightest bit of meat. “Citizen, you are not in trouble, you don’t need to attack us. Please come with us for protection,” they repeated. But Harry didn’t want to listen, he didn’t want to spend another day in the boring city. Everyone was forced to stay in their homes, partly in fear of the mutated skeletal monsters, partly by law as decreed by the Humanity League. Harry wanted to run away, at least the intense need to survive would reinvigorate him. But it was useless now, the League caught him. Their pneumatic, mechanical limbs were beyond normal human strength. Within moments, Harry was in the grasp of these heartless souls, being carried back home.

Mercury's North Pole, 6am, Railgun

It was 6am and a heat so great that Yarid’ heat reading instruments had malfunctioned several hours ago. The sun was close enough that it seemed like it was within arm’s reach; so bright that his blackout glasses barely served their purpose. Being a bounty hunter was an intense job, but the payment for any interplanetary job was always a huge payout, enough to reserve land the size of France on one of the Artificial Moons of Earth produced by Creation Industrialists. There could only be a life of extreme vanity ahead of Yaris, and he was excited of future prospects.

There were more pressing matters though. Janus was somewhere on this northern pole of Mercury, fleeing from his countless charges of arson on the Venusian city of New Chicago. The hottest planet of the system was a fitting place for any fire-lover. He was one of the most wanted people for the Inner Planet Police Force. After all, he burned down the Aphrodite Tower, the most costly skyscraper built in at least 200 years. However, the Force was too reluctant to take the risk of sending any of its officers to Mercury. They needed a bounty hunter like Yaris.

Mercury had few settlements, but Yaris knew of several outposts. Janus had to be there. Yaris increased the speed of his electrobike, bringing the 5 wheels together along the long base into a single straight row. The electric charge flowing across all the tires began glowing, in the same manner Yarid’s status as the most well known bounty hunter glowed in front of all who looked. Mounting his railgun carefully into the gun slot in front of the low handlebars, Yarid was prepared. He was combat-ready to kill Janus.

Mars, 10pm, Lincoln Memorial

It is a very strange thing. Ever since The Meltdown a few months ago, the entire population of the Earth had to evacuate the planet. The radiation was just too much. I thought I’d be able to stay at my home for my entire life, but now here I am on the US colony on Mars. My entire life has just become an oddity. I have to check my watch to even know if it’s night or day. It looks like it is 10pm, but for all I know it’s actually 1pm. The sun always looks the same. My home is just a bubble, like everyone else, in a long series of tubes for living in. I’m watching the entire set of monuments which just arrived from Washington D.C. – everything from the Lincoln Memorial to the Washingnton monument – being spacelifted into position. I certainly won’t think I’m back in America though. Sure I recognize all the stuff, but it is as though I’m in a snowglobe. I’m under complete control of outside forces, absent of a former sense of self. There’s just my bubble and the vast expanse of redness outside.

I don’t even know how I’m going to survive very long, there isn’t any infrastructure. The Meltdown was so sudden, it simply happened. One moment nothing, the next an entire nuclear arsenal exploded. Well, maybe it’s time for a new start, with a new population that won’t stand for the horrible events of Earth’s history to happen on Mars too. Just the good events will happen…

Texas, 2pm, Bottle

Driving down the highway towards Texas the Texas border, James threw the bottle of beer he was drinking from behind him. There was no regard towards anyone driving around him. He was too tired to care and did not want to be caught for kidnapping. The border would certainly be clear enough for James to get by without being noticed. As long as he was ahead of the cops, he was home free. It would be at least another hour until Kylie’s friend Melissa would check the house back in Houston, like every day at 2pm. She’d certainly notice that there was a struggle, with all the entire bookshelf knocked over and a broken table. All James cared about was that he’d become famous. Kidnapping Kylie would be the crime of the year. After all, she was in the movie Freestyled. Everyone knew the movie. Everyone knew Kylie. Now everyone would know James. The fact that Kylie’s mansion was so weak on security seemed like fate for James. The mechanic barely functioning on a meager minimum-wage salary would soon achieve notoriety even greater than that of Kylie. Even though James had done nothing of significance in years, he would at least become known for something. His life would have at least the slightest amount of meaning.

Antarctica, 3am, Cola

With my half frozen hands, I open my last can of Coca-Cola. The last drink I’ll be able to get for a long time. It’s about as poetic as an American’s life can be. The final drink is that of the epitome of consumerism.

The airplane I was riding in crash landed into Antarctica on my way to New Zealand. I think it was just a malfunction in the engines, but everyone else thought it was a terrorist’s rocket. Unless the penguins of Antarctica can wield rockets, there is no way there could have been any intent involved. The plane hit the ground on the opposite end where I sat. Most people on my side survived the initial impact, but sudden depressurization shredded the plane in half. We hit a large mound of snow, which crushed everyone in the rows in front of me. The plane fell off balance, ending up lopsided facing downwards, causing the tail end to snap. I was barely able to grab onto the edge of my seat. Everyone else fell, ending up being completely stuck between the ice and the plane’s tail.

It’s not like that matters anymore, I’m going to die any hour now. I'll certainly completely freeze to death by 3 in the morning. I was the single survivor, thanks to getting one of the worst seats on the plane. I guess I was lucky to be the only survivor, even though it barely made a difference in the end.

The American death: Coca-cola and bad seats in coach.