Future Imperfect
Flash Fiction from the Vault
A series of Flash Fiction stories.
Future Imperfect
A crowd gathered in the sprawling cityscape of Smith-Haven, overshadowed by monolithic tower blocks. Their voices formed a chorus of dissent outside the industrial units and blended with the grey, overcast sky above.
Captain Daniels waded through the throng with his team. A barrage of complaints about misnaming met them at once: “Man-he-Man,” “Man-She-Woman,” and “Woman-He-Man.” The terms belonged to current-speak, but the complainants accused others of misapplying them.
“We’re expected to record every speech violation. It’s a tool for petty revenge,” Daniels said.
Jenkins nodded. “We are peacekeepers, not arbitrators.”
Daniels pulled out his recording device, a trifecta of black boxes coupled in a club-like arrangement. “Let’s start logging these. This is a high-speed zone; everything’s monitored and uploaded here.”
A shadow passed over the crowd.
The shouting faded.
Daniels looked up.
A stone pyramid pierced the clouds above Smith-Haven, its surface ablaze, resembling a meteor. Fire streamed along its edges as it descended between the tower blocks.
“What on Earth...?” Daniels stared at the impossible structure.
“I don’t know,” Jenkins said. “Is it?”
People scattered through the streets. The monolithic edifice continued downward, arrowhead-first, aimed at the sole green space: Smith-Haven Park.
Daniels raised his recording device, but its screens flickered between static and an image of two pyramids joined at their bases.
The descent slowed at the last moment.
Its point touched the parkland.
The pyramid pierced the fabric of reality like a needle and slid into the earth, forcing soil, rock, and buried conduits aside.
The ground shook.
“Inside the Cluster!” Daniels shouted.
The emergency teams rushed towards the nearby collection of cylindrical pods—armoured data nodes, used for confidential reports. Police, firefighters, and paramedics sought sanctuary as the pyramid drove deeper, like a stake into the earth itself.
The massive displacement crushed underground power conduits, overloading hitherto secure circuits. Smoke filled the hardened capsules. Fire alarms blared.
“Get those doors open,” Daniels ordered.
Jenkins struck the emergency release. Explosive bolts fired.
Daniels and the others tumbled onto scorched dirt.
Not Smith-Haven, but somewhere else. A desert stretched beneath a strange copper sky. Dark ridges broke the horizon, and burnt-orange dust rolled across the plain.
Jenkins climbed to his feet. “Where are we?”
Daniels stopped and stared. “This makes no sense. We need to figure out what’s happening. Stay alert.”
Police, fire, and medical personnel formed an unlikely team in this strange terrain. Emma, a young paramedic, checked the survivors while Lee, a firefighter, examined the scorched ground.
In the distance, the last visible edge of the stone pyramid sank beneath the desert.
“Captain, did you see how it crashed?” Jenkins pointed towards it. “It buried itself point-first.”
Emma raised her hand. “Look.”
A mirror image emerged from the earth, formed from light and fire. It rose higher above the plain.
Lee stared at Daniels’s feed. “It’s like a reflection.”
“Why?” Jenkins asked. “What for?”
Daniels studied the fiery structure. Images shifted within its translucent faces: the alien desert, distant stars, then a momentary glimpse of Smith-Haven’s tower blocks. “This pyramid… a hologram maybe? It must connect realities. How, I don’t know.”
They approached the energetic construct with caution.
“It’s incredible,” Emma said. “It collided with our world—buried itself and pulled us here.”
Lee rubbed his eyes. “Like being in two different places at the same time. That’s particle physics, or something, isn’t it?”
Emma stared at the glowing pyramid. “Where else can we go? Could it be a door, a portal?”
Jenkins looked at the opening. “What if it is—but leads somewhere worse?”
Daniels glanced back at the desert. “Then we face it together.”
He stepped into the light—into the sound of traffic, alarms, and the distant clamour of Smith-Haven.
Emma followed. Then Jenkins, Lee, and the remaining emergency crews entered the pyramid after them.
Their steps carried them through the glowing structure into another world—and perhaps back home.
This was an exciting one!
The speech violations definitely felt relatable. Ha. Good action in this one. Maybe the pyramid will lead somewhere promising.