Tag: future

SGS: The World of Tomorrow!

It’s time for another Seriously Geeky Sunday brought to you by the creative Heather at geeking-by.net!

Today’s prompt was so much fun to dig into because Retro Futurism is one of my all time favorite aesthetics. Kid me’s vision of 2020 would have looked like a mixture of this with flying cars:

June 28th – Technology

June 23rd is Alan Turing’s birthday, and Turing was a British computer scientist who developed the Enigma machine during World War II. His work in computer science was groundbreaking and he theorised about artificial intelligence. Today we’re thinking about technology in fictional worlds:

What is the weirdest fictional technology item you’ve seen?

The stove pipe reporter’s hat from Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

What is the most disastrous technological innovation?

Single use plastics like packaging, beer pong cups, and shampoo containers. I feel like they’ve made us lazy, and when we’re done with them, we just throw them away without a second thought. They’re piling up with no end in sight.

I hope they come up with a biodegradable alternative soon, I mean the year is 2020, but then again the year is 2020

The other disastrous innovation(s) is weapons of mass destruction. I don’t need to go too deep into that one for obvious reasons. 

Who is your favourite robot/droid?

Data – Not only is he a walking computer with all the intelligence the universe has to offer, but he is kind, friendly, and has a deeply human side. It made me so happy when Q gave him the gift of laughter for saving his life. 

What fictional futuristic item do you think will become real one day?

Starships – SpaceX is developing one this very moment! 

What futuristic vehicle would you love to take for a ride?

A flying car.

I’ve been fascinated with them ever since I can remember. I used to hope that the year 2000 would bring us flying cars, but it’s 2020, and I don’t see it happening anytime soon. 

I am pleased that they are working on self driving cars! I’ll settle for that. 

If you could have any character/celebrity be the personality for a supercomputer, who would it be?

Data from TNG because he wouldn’t play pranks or get snarky (let’s just say that the supercomputer would be smashed to bits if it played pranks on me or got an attitude….lol).

Yester Year: The Eternal Summer

Yester Year
The Eternal Summer
A ficlet by mlc

I drew a deep breath, my steps haggard and limp, as I walked through the jagged ruins of Yester Year. Sweat dripped down my back, making my shirt feel like a second layer of skin. I sat down on one of the charred blocks and looked at the parcel in my trembling hands.

The sun was starting to dip into the West, a sure fire sign that I needed to hurry up. Wheezing, I leaned over and closed my eyes. Just a quick break, I told myself. Then it was another sprint, but I’d be home, and Nana would get her medication.

My eyes fluttered open when a sudden gust of wind brushed my back. It chilled the sweat for a brief moment, and I watched it rip a dead plant from its roost. The light brown thing tumbled around the ruins without a care in the world.

My eyes followed it until it hit the side of a block twice the size as the one I was sitting on. That one had imprints on it. That one was proof that Nana’s crazy stories had actually happened. I didn’t like going near it.

Yester Year. I clutched my side when it started to cramp. The wind tore something white from the old foundation, hurling it my way. I reached my foot out and stepped on it.

“One more minute,” I whispered as I stretched my arm out to grab it. Sometimes you found some good shit from Yester Year, but most of the time it was garbage. I lifted my sandal, and sure enough, it was a tattered cup.

“How did you manage to survive out here all these years?” I plucked it from the ground and inspected the faded wording on it. Nana might like it, I decided, so I stuffed it into my satchel.

I frowned when I looked at her parcel. I don’t know how we’re going to get the next batch. Getting this one was hard enough as it was. We were running out of scrap medal. Minute up. I clutched the precious bundle against my chest and broke into a sprint.

I needed to get the hell home before curfew.

The ground was already rumbling with their monolithic monsters—I could feel it in my feet. It was time to pump my legs as hard as I could. Pain throbbed everywhere my body could feel it. No pain, no gain. 

My neighborhood appeared in the horizon a few moments later. Its shabby roofs quelled the rising fear brewing within. The old trees, vacant husks that clawed up at the brown sky like silent horrors, mocked my half crazed sprint. This stupid drought, I thought. It’s making them lash out. 

On the flip side, they had to give us more rations whenever things got bad. Where and how they got those rice cakes jammed packed with calories, I would never know or understand. Nothing grew in these parts. Nothing.

***

“Please stop wasting your resources on me,” Nana rasped, her voice wavering with each word. She stared at her lap as my dad dropped two pills into her palm.

Closing my eyes, I started counting. Thirst was beginning to scrape its way through my veins to the point of no return. My throat felt parched and scratchy, like a wool blanket.

“You are almost out of copper, Ryan,” she said. “This is the last trade on my behalf. I’m eighty years old. You and Karla have many years left in you.”

“You’re my mother!” Dad placed a hand on my shoulder, jarring me from my trance. I moved out of the way to watch him kneel before her. He took her hand and kissed it.

“You protected us,” he murmured. “I was ten, but I remember. I remember how you sheltered me and Mike, how you hid us when the Black Shirts kept bombing us.”

I walked away. I hated it when they got like this. Those two never learned to just shut the hell up about the past. No one thought about the second civil war anymore. No one cared. As long as the Feds kept bringing us those sweet rice cakes and water, it didn’t matter.

No one cared about some orange weirdo dictator from fifty years ago. Not a damn person. Dad was just a baby back then! I stopped at my room and rubbed my temples. It was the thirst. Oh please let us get an extra bottle of water tonight. Please. 

I walked into my room and picked up my tablet, well it used to be Nana’s, but I liked to pretend I was the fucking shit with it sometimes. I walked over to her old desk and sat down.

“Oh yes, Ma’am. Numbers are in your favor. Your scrap yard has tripled.” The words sounded stale and echoed off the walls. With a sigh, I set the relic down and turned on the old radio we had salvaged five years ago.

Trumpets and drums thundered a strong, masculine tune. I closed my eyes. For what it was worth, the Feds were good story tellers when they weren’t busy kicking down doors.

“Good evening citizens, your regularly scheduled program will air momentarily. We have some breaking news.” I sat up straight. They never interrupted Curfew Nights. Never.

“It is with great pleasure to let you hear it from the Marshal himself!” The Marshal’s military jingle rang throughout the room. I held my breath. The Marshal!? He was going to speak!? My heart raced. We had an old picture of him stashed away in Dad’s closet. Nana refused to go near it or eat in its vicinity. We only pulled it out when the Feds delivered our rations.

“My fellow Citizens of the Federated States,” his voice boomed. It was loud, strong, and manly. I felt my cheeks flush. No one knew how old he was or where he came from. He was just there. There to save us all.

“We’ve done it. We’ve found a way to reverse eternal summer, but it requires teamwork like we haven’t seen since the days of old, and by old, I mean before the selfish gene took our ancestors of Yester Year prisoner,” he paused. I leaned closer to the radio, my ears craving every last bit of him.

“Citizens between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five are officially a part of The Marshal’s taskforce and will be conscripted into service immediately. Your families will receive extra rations and water tonight as a salute to service. Only together, can we end this perpetual nightmare that has burned our world.”

What? Conscripted? I bit my lower lip. No. there was no way I wanted to be a Fed. Never.

“My young friends will be taken to my solar facilities to begin manufacturing equipment needed to end this hell.”

Wait.

Work. Manufacturing and building shit. That didn’t sound like driving tanks and kicking doors down to me.

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled.

“Your families will continue receiving extra rations, water, and medical care until the deed is done, and when it is done, there will be no need to scrimp and scrounge just to make ends meet. Your children and grandchildren will have Falls, Winters, and Springs! Together, the Federated States will prevail!”

Trumpets blared as a canned applause poured through the little radio. I looked at my watch. What perfect bloody timing.

7:59.

I grabbed my diary and one of Nana’s dolls from Yester Year.

8:00.

Bang, bang, bang! 

“IT’S THE FEDS, OPEN UP! RATIONS, WATER, AND WE’RE HERE FOR KARLA WALTERS. OPEN UP.”

It was time to go.

2116 – Flash Fiction

This writing short is for my fellow females. Enjoy! 🙂

2116 

The aerial tram zipped past columns of sky gardens, their iridescent domes glimmering in the sunlight as we sped away. I winced when a sudden wave of pain stung my abdomen. I bit my lower lip, fighting off the urge to curl into the fetal position.

A perpetual anger tingled my senses, burning every last ounce of blood within me. I closed my eyes and thought of 2016. Here I was exactly one hundred years in the future—that is another story in itself.

It won’t be long, I told myself. And I’ll never have to suffer through the monthly b.s. that comes with being female ever again. There was no way they didn’t have remedies that actually worked. Hell, maybe they even had some sort of cure for the entire business—maybe one simple operation, and my body would release its damned eggs some other way.

At that thought, I tried to smile, but pain exploded in my abdomen as the tram slowed to a stop. I looked up. This was my stop.

I swallowed back the urge to cry out and staggered to the door, following the other passengers out. A glass bridge extended from the tram station’s platform. Well, it probably wasn’t glass, but it was clear and made my insides churn. I followed the line of passengers to the buildings on the other end.

They were sky scrapers of old, but everyone knew that the prime time real-estate was on the top floors. The best doctors were here. I immediately spotted MedTerraX’s bright blue windows and their neon “Welcome!” sign and headed for it.

A receptionist in a royal blue dress greeted me with a warm smile. A tablet hovered between her slander hands.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Greene. The nurse practitioner will be right with you as scheduled.” She led me into an office. I frowned. Where was the creepy bed with the stiff paper coverings? Where was the sterile smell?

It was just a single room with two chairs at the very center of it. A framed oil portrait of the CEO of GlobalTerraX hung on the opposite wall. Various self help medical posters hung below it. The door opened behind me, and in waltzed a tall man with grey hair. He wore a smart, pin-striped suit tailored to fit his muscular form. He smiled and motioned me to sit down. A tablet hovered behind him, trailing him like a loyal dog. He waved his right hand, and it flew into it.

“Okay, Ms. Greene, this won’t take long. I’m Nurse @kins. Not to worry, this is just a simple case of menstrual pain. I’m transmitting your prescription to your phone as I speak,” he said, tapping his finger on his slender tablet. The lines around his face graced his appearance, making him appear kindly. I nodded.

So the mighty cure was a pill. Fine. As long as it got rid of the constant anger and the pain. I was sick to death of having to pretend to be normal during this time of the month! I had to admit that going to the doctor in the 22nd century was a lot more efficient than in my own time.

Nurse @kins glanced up as if reading my thoughts. He smiled.

“I saw you on the news last month. So tell me, how was your experience here today? Has healthcare improved in the past century?”

“This fifteen minute trip would have been at least two hours in my day,” I said with a sheepish smile. It was true. It didn’t matter if you  showed up for your appointment on time, you still had to wait.

“All righty! I am glad to hear it. Once you get your prescription from the pharmacy, you’ll be emailed a survey that rates your experience here at MedTerraX. Please rate us. Five is excellent, and well, we won’t talk about one!” He started laughing. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out. An icon of a yellow pill bottle was blinking on the screen. I tapped it.

500 mg ibuprofen (20 count)
3 bars of chocolate
1 box of chamomile tea

My September Sunday

Day 14 of my Post-A-Day challenge! Today’s prompt is a repeat of the workout prompt, so I’m just going to ramble about my day.

There was an early morning meeting at work, but it was okay because today was Jersey Day. The bountiful supply of donuts and coffee was a plus too. Now that football season is finally here, Sundays are my favorite day of the week.

For one, if we donate a dollar to the charity of the month, we get to wear our jerseys. Two? Football tends to clear the place out. When you have a backend job like I do, this is like finding treasure. That treasure? Time!

Remember my not-so-secret-anymore goal I posted about on–was that yesterday!? It feels like a week ago. Okay, let’s start over. Remember my not-so-secret-anymore goal I posted about in Animate Me! (yesterday)?

Here is the what I hope will soon be that goal! This is Elly in a futuristic outfit gazing down at a tiny version of the portal that brought her to Y.E. 0422. The scene inside of it is in Chapter One (when she is walking around the Deserts of Athena just before Braxton shows up).

…And now comes the hard part: doing the digital version. Other artists are different, but digital versions take me 1,000,000 light-years longer to do than art on traditional mediums. >.<