Future
Favre, 2077 by Abha Bhole
The afternoon sun blazed in the sky, bathing Paris in its golden glow. The view from my window would have been beautiful, were it not for the bombing. The Avenue des Champs-Élysées was littered with marble. Some pieces were the size of pebbles; others were larger than houses. The acrid stench of smoke still lingered in the air. Explosives. Ancient technology. It was no secret that the rebels were underfunded but this was an entirely new level, even for them. The screen flashed image after image of anarchy and destruction. Favre. The name was repeated everywhere. Every emotion, from outrage and indignation to disappointment and scorn was attached to it. I remembered standing in the rubble, blinking as cameras flashed in my eyes. Voices shouted all around, demanding, questioning, complaining. Humans never stay still for long. We always want an answer; we always want someone to blame. A shock wave had rippled through France. For now, the whole country was in silence, but it wouldn’t last long. The fallout from this would be immense. Another year of interviews, reporters and accusations. Everyone was accustomed to the attacks by now, but this was the first time the rebels had targeted something of cultural significance. This was their way of showing that they were serious, that they would do anything
it took to have their Republic back, even if it meant destroying history. I estimated at most another day before I was swarmed by the media. I had grown up in a world of cameras and microphones, hardly surprising considering that I was in charge of the country. After the Government of the French Republic had collapsed during the Climate Crisis, the entire democratic system was reshaped, and the position of ‘President’ was replaced with ‘Governor’. Only last year, I had been elected and the bombings had begun during my term. I wore my mask constantly, trying to reassure the people that it would not be long before this was over. The rebels would tire themselves out and our military would swoop in to finish them off. In truth, I could see that it was only a matter of time before the country fell into civil war. The rebellion was enabled through complacency. Nobody took them seriously at first, brushing them off as fanatics. They were ignored even when civilians suffered in the scuffles. Riots were covered up; shootings were suppressed. Most of France only realised there was a problem after the first bombing. That false sense of security cost us our hard-won peace. It is said that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
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