Future Continuous?
Flash Fiction, but not from the Vault...
A series of Flash Fiction stories.
Future Continuous?
Daniels stepped through the light into silence. Not simply antiseptic, but synthetic.
New Smith-Haven rose around him once more. Newer, different, starker. Towers of crystal, marble, and steel pierced a white sky. Regulated avenues crossed between polished buildings. The city resembled a mausoleum, quiet as the grave.
His own heartbeat, a drum, his very breath a cymbal in the perspicuity.
Child-sized figures moved with mechanical precision. Grey skin covered their featureless bodies. Faint seams glowed. Their heads turned, flocking like birds. No, Daniels self-corrected—drones. Black, lifeless eyes tracked Daniels in perfect unison.
A sequence of soft tones chimed from their throats.
Emma stopped beside him. “They aren’t wearing the system.”
Lee stared at the nearest citizen. “The system’s wearing them.”
Jenkins emerged.
Daniels wheeled. “Stay back! Keep the portal open. We’re not staying here a moment longer than we need to.”
“How?” Jenkins mouthed the word, his face a frown.
“Stand still, there, where you are.” Daniels pointed.
Jenkins froze, one foot in the new version of Smith-Haven, the other inside the dimensional gate. Behind him, the others huddled, pressing for a glimpse through.
The baton screamed, replaying the sound of the stone pyramid’s blazing arrival above Smith-Haven.
The citizens stopped. Every head tilted. “Non-compliant biology. Gender dimorphism. Unsanctioned speech.”
Fire traced four lines across the park, then climbed into a holographic monolith. The open portal shimmered. Jenkins flickered.
The nearest citizen reached for Daniels. He pivoted. “Move!”
Copper light swallowed them into dry heat’s embrace.
They emerged into burnt-orange sand beneath the alien sky. Dust rolled over the ground in low sheets. The desert again.
Figures appeared along the ridge. Weapons followed.
A woman descended towards them with a long rifle held across her chest. A scarf obscured the lower half of her face, and a cloak her body. She could have been Emma’s grandmother.
“Captain Daniels. Call me Mara.”
“I know you?”
“That’s another question. Please deactivate your baton.”
Daniels hesitated and powered it down. The portal closed.
“Let me start again. Hello Elias, it’s been a long time.” She gestured to her warriors. Younger faces, some familiar—most strange.
Daniels tightened his grip. “You came from Smith-Haven?”
“Yes. We all did, in our own way.”
Emma stared at Mara for a moment. “Do these places exist beside each other, or along one timeline?”
“Some here argue for alternate worlds, others for branches, dimensions—that each door creates the world beyond it.” Mara glanced at the buried pyramid, the base a perfect polished stony square. “What matters is that the portal between the realms is closed.”
“Why?” Jenkins asked.
“If we leave it open, Continuity can send people through.”
“Like those we encountered?” Emma’s frown deepened. “The Compliance Agents? Or the…”
“Drones?” Daniels hung his baton from his belt.
“Yes, and others who resemble you, or any of us.”
Daniels rubbed his chin, rasping stubble. Reminding him of the passage of time. “So how do you know I’m not a bad guy?”
“You’re becoming a better man, Elias, but you understand, deep down, that you strode the wrong path.”
Daniels baulked. Mara held up her hand. “I am sure. A Compliant Daniels would have kept the portal open to Neo Smith-Haven and let drones come through.” She tapped her weapon. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“And the pyramid?” Lee asked. “What is it?”
“The pyramidal meteor appears in every version of reality we know. It disrupts every instance of Continuity, but society—the machine—adapts. It learns. It contains what it cannot control behind invisible glass walls and beneath manicured lawns. It pretends the pyramid isn’t there, but Compliance can’t stop the truth. It can bury the way as though dead, but the way never stays dead.”
Wow, each installment gets even better!