Table of Contents “The T.E.D. Project” by Bear Brooks (a 7-minute read) Ever dream of making a clone of yourself, or are you too scared to see another living version of yourself. Find out what happens when the unrealized dream of one boy's father becomes an unexpected reality. The T.E.D. Project. “Milk is the Root of all Evil” by William Desich (a 10-minute read) Milk is the only beverage. That’s the dystopia Curd lives in, created by an authoritarian Big Milk. Faced with a large milk heist that could have him set for life, he faces a choice. Will he take the risk? “The Wanderer” by Finn Duff (a 6-minute read) In a post-war society there are strict rules for Crag and the other humans in the New Lands region that marks as a right of passage and they even determine a teen’s fate. Upon his 15th birthday Crag will face the Ziaheth and be judged, his role in this world is at stake but he is in the dark until an unseen figure tries to enlighten him in his final hours. “We’re Here to Help” by Aiden English (a 6-minute read) In the future, every human's fate is not up to what zip code they were born into, their grades in school, or how much money their parents make. Instead, it is up to their genetics which is tested at birth. A single test decides where you live, what you eat, what job you have, and how much money you make. It’s for the better, they say. At least, that’s what they tell you. Some people have a hunch that something’s not quite right, and they want to find out the truth. “Soul Saber” by Chris Forasté (an 8.5-minute read) It only takes one moment to make you regret everything you’ve done. After Security Droid SD-26B is freed from a mind-altering spell, he is forced to relive the horrendous atrocities he has committed. Will he rise up and redeem himself, or will the weight of his mistakes finally break him? “Explosion To Oblivion” by Thierry Fortin (a 6-minute read) On a Planet Earth that has been through more than a planet should, Eastus, Northus and Westus, three friends, were celebrating the 100th anniversary of The New World, until an explosion in the sky changed their lives from paradise to hell. How will they survive?
“The Skimming” by Sid Gaonkar (a 8.5-minute read) After the Union of Farmers had seceded from the U.S and started the Civil Milk War the world was thrown into chaos as the farmers had won putting BIG MILK at the top. Their reign of terror led to the imprisonment of all lactose intolerant people including our protagonist Cole. Within the prison walls, life is dreary, and hope is nowhere to be found. How will Cole get out of his predicament? “The Dying Planet” by Daniela Hamel (an 8.5 min read) The clock is ticking; Rita is running out of time to save Japan from an environmental disaster. Can futuristic technology be the fix, or is it no match for the angers of planet Earth? Follow along in this vivid sci-fi short story to see if she and the remaining masterminds can prevent what’s coming or if they will die trying. “The Metaverse” by Jackson Kadlec (a 7-minute read) A group of 3 friends set out on a mission to free the minds of all those who live in the metaverse. Jackson, Tom, and James all have had their own fair share of problems with the Metavrse government, giving them even more motivation to overthrow it. Through a long and hard journey, the 3 come out successful and free the people from the government's grasps. “The Fire” by Scott Kim (an 11-minute read) There are no humans in the city anymore. They escape their city to survive from the AI’s that they developed. There is a girl who was born after humans reached the peak of AI technology, and she tries to survive from the robots with her dad. However, when they encounter a humanoid, her dad passes away trying to save his daughter. After that incident, she becomes an independent and strong person who is never afraid of fighting to save her people. Later on, she believes that gaining the city back is the only way to protect humanity, and incites the people by giving a speech. “Life in the Field” by Tyler Maille (a 7.5-minute read) Whether it’s being late to Ms. Fletcher’s class again or helping Mama with work around the house, Dylan stays busy living his life on the farm. When his dog Ziggy goes missing in the cornfield Dylan will venture anywhere to reunite with his companion. What other than his canine friend will Dylan find when he steps into the field in this Sci-Fi thriller? “The Complex” by David Moriarty (a 10-minute read) Two polar opposite friends are determined to see what is beyond the crash-site-turned-society that they call home, but their three-step plan to a new reality becomes much more troubling than they anticipated. Along their journey, Milo and Bruno uncover the truth behind the disappearance of Milo’s father. The
boys must make a life-changing decision between going to the unknown or being stuck under the rule of a deceitful leader for the rest of their lives. “Project Rojo” by Ian Murray (a 5.5-minute read) Alejandro Peeters is a teenager in the middle of the Granada rebellion war between the Rojos and Azuls. After a tragic event, he decides to try and make his own mark on the war following in his father's footsteps. Will he successfully be able to fulfill his father's mission or will he fail himself, his father, and his people? “Hopeful” by Harry Nie (an 11-minute read) A young researcher by the name of Noah was on the verge of a massive breakthrough, but when a mysterious man visits him and confirms all his doubts, does he have the ability to remain hopeful? Who is this man anyway? “The Night Life” by Parker Niehaus (a 7-minute read) This short story is about a girl, Sierra who lives a relatively normal life but one thing… everyday she wakes up when the sun sets. For her, and everyone else in the world, this is what life is, living in the dark, but one person disagrees. There is a new girl at school, Beck. Beck was kicked out of her private all girls catholic school before transferring at the end of the semester. Her creative ideas and questions spark interest from Sierra and others, but that is not always a good thing. “The Dream” by Tyler Prunier (a 7-minute read) In the world of this Sci- Fi Fantasy, where pollution has forced humans to breathe filtered air and make sleeping pods, it has led to the discovery of dream sharing. With someone missing from school and the police on the hunt to find them, will this technology help best friends Anna and Margret discover what happened to her? “There's Always Hope” by Sarah Randall (a 10-minute read) Hope Anderson is a 16 year old girl living in the aftermath of a world-wide nuclear apocalypse. She lives every day of her life, quickly getting tired of the never-ending repetition. But what if something happens one morning that will change everything she was taught, and her life as she knew it forever? “Life After Desolation” by Jennifer Ross (a 6-minute read) In a hunt for normalcy, Leah explores the pre-desolate world while living in a post-apocalyptic one. Her innate curiosity is spiked when her community learns of encroaching AI, whose goal is to reunite the
humans who remain after the war. She is then faced with a decision that will alter the life of her and her mother. Will fulfill her desire to revive the pre-war era, or will she stay to satisfy her widowed mother? “Flee to Aurelion” by Cade Sachs (a 7.5-minute read) When a vicious species of aliens attack our planet, the militaries of Earth band together to protect humanity. However, as the aliens are clearly more advanced than humanity, evacuation is the military’s only option. Known only as Commander, a man recounts his terrifying experience on the battlefield as he fights to evacuate some of the last civilians on Earth. Will he succeed in the evacuations, or die trying? “Last one standing” by Zachary Spataro (a 14-minute read) E-47 finds himself in a strange predicament when he is the last Enforcer standing. He completed his task and now needs to set off to find what comes next. “Filling the Void” by Tiffany Touchette (an 8-minute read) Tony, a young boy, grows up with the struggle of trying to socialize without his nerves taking over. With high expectations from his parents, he needs to find a solution. Throughout his rollercoaster of a journey he finds a creative way to make new friends that solves his problems. “The Lost Years” by Allen Wang (a 7-minute read) At the end of the world, the discovery of the Garden of Eden, 1,000 light years away, shocks the left humanity that congregates inside the Walls. With the newly developed particle accelerator, traveling to Eden appears to be feasible. Every ten years, ships with the smartest and brightest minds set sail. The main character is given the chance to board the ship. But he decides to wait another decade for her, whose parents died in the riots and who has nothing but him. Why did he decide to remain? And, perhaps more importantly, is the Garden real? “Chasin’ The Bag” by Mason Zernich (a 5-minute read) A teenager who wants a better life for his family signs up for an opportunity to receive $500 million which is a potential solution to fix their lifelong poverty and depression. However, he later realizes once he is given the opportunity for a big reward he has to take a big risk. The Savior a novella by Jacob Liu After a global war, an elite group forms a utopian society, but inequality asserts itself, and the symbolic city on the hill becomes a slum... Growing up in the soaring metropolis of Shenzhen, I wrote this post-apocalyptic novel to explore the inequality, poverty, and urban class conflicts of this diverse, immigrant populace and to consider ways to overturn oppressive class dynamics.
“The T.E.D. Project” by Bear Brooks “Good morning Ted, it is 8 am, the weather in Boston will be slightly cloudy today
with warmer temperatures near 60 degrees. The date is 4/12/2057. TED is at 99.7%,
nearing completion in the next couple of hours” says my personal home assistant. With T.E.D. nearly complete, I never thought this day would ever come.
My father had always had the dream of creating a clone of himself that would think,
act, and work just as he did. When in high school he decided to pursue biochemical
engineering in college to learn how to harvest and manipulate his own DNA and cells, and eventually build a machine to create a clone of himself, which he would name it after me, T.E.D. He began his studies at Harvard, just 10 minutes from our house here in Boston,
where he earned his masters in biochemical engineering. He then earned his Phd while conducting a research project on human DNA and cell replication. These were the
necessary steps to make his project come to life. My father had all the preparation and
knowledge needed to begin working on his project. I was born around the time my father started to dive into his project, the year was 2040. Just a few months after I was born, my
fathers prior studies and impressive resume earned himself a job as a professor at his alma mater, teaching biochemical engineering of course.
Throughout my father’s life I have always known he was a very trustworthy man,
someone who held himself to high standards and had a high degree of integrity. His
character and determination is what pushed him to become the great professor, father, and mastermind he was. However, he wouldn’t let anything get in the way of himself and his clone project T.E.D. That being said, bit by bit he would steal from the university. Parts,
mechanisms, beakers, gasses, tools, anything he could get his hands on to build his
machine. Each day after work he would bring home a new piece of the machine and get to work building in the garage. From dusk till dawn he would be buried in his work whether
he was grading papers, putting together lectures, making plans to steal parts, or assembling T.E.D. I felt like I never got to spend any time with him. When I would ask to spend more
time with him he would always say to me, “son, when my clone is complete I will be able to spend every second of the day with you, I won't have to go to work anymore, life will be
perfect, just promise me you understand”. My mother would be given the same response,
every day. We both felt more disconnected as the years went by, slowly losing our father to his project.
We were always prepared to hear the same response when we asked how it was
going, but we were never prepared to hear what he had to say when we asked that one day. It was a cold, stormy day almost out of a movie, it felt surreal, or I guess, cliche in a way. IT was the day he had finished his project, his news to us was some of the best we had ever
heard in our life, our excitement was unmatched, we felt as if we might just get our father
back. However that was not the response we were shocked by. He began working with the
part of the machine that replicates and reproduces his own cells. This was the first time he
had ever worked with a sample from his own body. He pulled a sample piece of his skin and placed it into the machine. Tests were run, to ensure everything was safe and would run smoothly.
Then his heart stopped and his stomach rose to his throat.
He noticed something was wrong, his skin cells were mutating and dying. There was only one reason this could be happening.
Cancer.
He came into the living room where once again, we asked how the project was going. This
was the news we could never have been prepared for. He told us “I am dying, the machine has detected degenerative cancer in my cells, I don’t have much time left”. In his classic
calm fashion, he sat down with us in silence, tears coming out of all of our eyes. Would our tears ever stop flowing?
Just a few months later we found ourselves again, with tears pouring down our
faces. This time it was just me and my mother comforting each other like we always had.
Almost a year after my father passed I felt it was time to uncover the machine. My
father had left everything behind along with a book written for me on how to clone myself.. I felt the responsibility to carry on his dream, so I did. I gave the machine a sample of my
DNA and cells on 4/12/2056 and it powered up. My cells were scanned, tested, and cleared as healthy so the machine began its replication. The screen read “TIME TILL COMPLETE : 365 days”.
When I was awoken by my personal home assistant I rushed to find my own body
nearing completion. It was extremely exciting while at the same time it scared the life out of me. It was like I was looking in the mirror, except the person looking back at me was lifeless, almost already dead. This feeling was unsettling, I felt sick to my stomach, I
couldn't take another look. So I left the garage in fear, scared of what he might do to me,
what his undeveloped brain might make him do. Alone I sit in my room, frozen. So I'll post this on my facebook, asking for help. What should I do next, ANYONE, HELP? The Boston Globe - Wednesday 4/13/2050 - TOP NEWS
LOCAL HIGH SCHOOLER KILLED IN HIS OWN HOME LAST NIGHT, MURDERER LAST SEEN RUNNING FROM GARAGE. UNIDENTIFIED SUSPECT.
“Milk is the Root of all Evil” by William Desich He could hear the drones buzzing above, chasing him. “Unidentified citizen of Chicago, please stop!” They begged. He ran for what seemed like miles, but he would do anything for the business. He had been in it for a while but never came this close to getting caught. Eventually, he found a spot to hide in an alley behind a dumpster. He was used to being in places like this; money was sometimes hard to come by as a milk farmer under the harsh treatment of Big Milk. The drones would usually find anything with a heat signature, however, Curd came prepared with his thermal suit. It made him virtually invisible to the drones, something beneficial for his line of work. Finally, after waiting for hours, the buzzing faded away. The shipment was gone, and he had escaped. Curd called one of his partners, buttermilk, and returned to the HQ. The guys in the know named themself after different types of milk, making a mockery of the world around them. Buttermilk was Curd’s second in command; they’d known each other their whole lives, and Curd was sure Butter was in this as deep as he was. They exchanged heated messages, putting blame on one another for getting caught before Curd walked back to the base of operations. When Curd returned, his boys were waiting for him, ready to feast on the profits. He had just sold a very large illegal shipment of beverages, and though the authorities reprimanded the buyer, Curd managed to escape with the money. His colleague Goat reckoned, “Boys, we’ve all been poor, and now all officially rich. And personally, I’d be rich one-hundred times over.” Of course, they all agreed. Curd chimed in, “Yeah, because Big Milk didn’t pay us shit. Especially when you consider how hard we worked.” Goat responded, “Well, we don’t have to live through that anymore. They didn’t tag you, right?” “No. I wouldn’t let that happen. Besides, you forget what I do for a living?” Curd had confidence in his reputation. He was a milk farmer by day and a beverage smuggler by night. It wasn’t his first choice of an occupation, but he had been doing it since Big Milk assigned him to it after the revolution. When the Union of farmers formed in 2040, secession was not the precedent. Despite this, the 65 million people of the American midwest were tired of the rest of the country. They provided food for the
remainder of the US. However, all they were met with in response were falling crop prices. Angry with the poor treatment and led by Big Milk, the people of the American midwest not only seceded but started to invade the rest of the US. At first, it was cynical. 65 Million people were a force to be reckoned with, though nothing could match the military power of the US. But rather than devoting resources to boots-onthe-ground campaigns, the rebelling nation harnessed the power of AI. Using this, Big Milk started to gain ground in the war by attacking and completely disabling weapons, communications, and electricity. The US maintained dominance, though, until its nuclear arsenal was under the jurisdiction of Big Milk by the way of AI. Then, threatening to take out half the US population in just 15 minutes, and with all defense systems offline, the United States unconditionally surrendered. Just as the US started itself, the underdog that was Big Milk managed to beat out the favorite. When the dairy elites assumed control, they assumed complete control. All assets, weapons, technologies, and lands that the United States previously owned were relinquished. The democratic system was demolished. But this was not enough. The Union of Farmers maintained their anger, imposing mass bans on almost all food products that were not naturally produced in the country. Those who were lactose intolerant were sent to “rehabilitation centers,” as was the case of Curd’s parents. Though, he never talked about his parents. In the case of beverages, the only drink that survived… was milk. People hated it at first, but seeing the absolute damage and power of AI scared them into complying. Propaganda signs everywhere read, “Got Milk?” Everyone was busy downing their sweet milky goodness. But in the summer of ‘75, Curd, fueled by both the rage from his parents being taken and his poor past, took it as an opportunity to take over the market for beverages. Joined by Buttermilk and Goat, they had been at it for five years now. The men had a lot of work to manage this colossal scheme ahead of them, but they would celebrate the victory tonight. A knock on the door woke Curd up. He put himself together rather quickly. He shoved all the remnants of the illegal contraband under his bed and opened the door. Three robot officers stood outside. “Hello Curd Milksmith. Recently, in another part of town, a large shipment of non-milk beverages was found. We know you are a loyal member of the Union of Milk Farmers, so we wanted to see if you knew
anything about it.” He led them in the wrong direction before they left. “Who was that?” a half-asleep Butter inquired. “Federal agents. Thought they were coming for me but turns out they were just looking for information. I don’t mind misleading them after the way Big Milk treated us.” Curd informed. “Well, it's about time. I gotta get to milk farming.” Curd entered the large industrial building. He was a milk farmer, but there were thousands, millions even, of others like him. Milk was the next water, just as Big Milk would want it to be. He walked through the door and checked in with the robot overseer. With robots in all the senior positions, it was strange that Big Milk still wanted humans to be doing all the busywork. Curd’s pal, Skim Mike, was waiting for him. Mike was in on the operation; he lived through the same poverty Curd did and only escaped it through the heists. On this occasion, he had big news for Curd. “Ay, buddy how ya doin’. Got big news for ya. Tonight, a large milk transport vehicle will be staying the night at the export station. They needa’ refill it or sum. Anyways, you stay a little later, get in there, and take it home. Say you saw the guy take it and go the other direction. Boom, now ya got hundreds of thousands in milk.” Curd was startled. A milk scandal this big hadn’t been seen since the missing milk incident of ‘58. But he knew this would be a blow to Big Milk, and revolted at the thought of being poor again. After this moment of pondering, he replied, “Let’s do it. One big heist, then we can be done for a while. We have to come up with a plan first, though.” They spent the whole day formulating a master plan rather than farming milk. They would not meet their milk-farming quotas, however, the milk industry would soon have bigger problems anyway. The two decided that the plan would go like this. Skim Mike was a veteran at the facility, and everyone loved him, so he would distract security. Meanwhile, Butter would hack into the camera system and cut the cameras momentarily. Then, Curd would grab the keys from the key room and hop in the truck. Mike would still be talking to the guards, causing them to not hear the truck. Curd would then drive the truck to a safe location, where all four would meet up to disperse the milk appropriately. Curd was counting on this plan to work because if not, he would surely be killed by Big Milk.
Curd’s day normally ended at 6, however on this day, he was still there at 8. The plan was running behind schedule, however, they needed to wait a little longer for people to leave. Under Big Milk’s harsh grasp, one wrong move and it would all be over. Now, it was empty, and time to begin. Mike went into the security room and started talking to the guys while Curd went to look for the keys. He was nearing the truck when Butter called him. “Two cops pulling upon you now. Watch out.” He said. Curd walked away from the truck, back to where his station was. “Why are they here? It can’t end here… Like this,” He thought to himself as he heard the police enter. They walked up to him. “We’re just doing our patrol… You sure you’re allowed to be in here at these hours?” They said. Curd responded, “Oh yeah I'm fine. I talked it over with the guys at security already.” They walked away without saying a word. It was strange they arrived at such a random time; perhaps they were just uptight knowing a beverage smuggler was on the loose. Curd was nonetheless petrified. Eventually, the police left, and the plan resumed just as planned. Curd got in the truck, waiting for Buttermilk’s approval before driving away. And when the word was given, he was gone. The plan worked fine for all the trouble they encountered earlier. The milk was left hidden in an abandoned warehouse, where the refrigerated truck would keep it stored at a reasonable temperature. But they would need to sell it fast, as a milk shipment this big would not go unnoticed. When they got home, not 6 hours after the heist, the TV was blaring with breaking news. “Attention all milk drinkers. A shipment of milk has recently gone missing. It is up to you to help us find it. If you see a large refrigerated milk truck, please call your authorities.” They knew this would happen. A missing milk shipment this big would be impossible to go unnoticed. No one found out who did the heist, not until a month later. The group had set up a private milk business that would launder the milk stolen from the factory. Business there was booming until a government inspector came in. He noticed something unusual, and said, “Milk is the pride of our nation. As such, I take this job very seriously. It has been brought to my attention that you sell roughly 21% more milk than your farm can logically produce. Do you have a valid reason for this?” “Guess our cows are just over-achievers,” Curd responded. “Our smartest AIs have calculated that the probability of your farm
producing that much milk is .00023%, unless you have more cows than you say you have. Your business will be under investigation,” the man said before leaving. Curd was now on high alert. He worked at the same milk farm the shipment was stolen from, prompting him to now be a leading suspect. It was all too late. He couldn’t right the mistakes of the past. The next day a subpoena was left on the door. “Well, it's over for us.” Goat defeatedly uttered. “It was a good run, but I can’t believe we got caught on milk fraud.” “I know. After selling beverages besides milk illegally, the one that finally took us down… was milk,” Buttermilk inquired. “However. We still need to fight this to the end. We will argue that our business could in fact produce this amount of milk with the help of steroid cows. Our business will be closed, but we will face a smaller sentence,” He followed. Curd stood in the corner. “No,” He said. “We will fight for whatever option gives Big Milk the least control over our lives, which is our innocence. If they find us even a little guilty, we will never leave that prison.” Curd was a man of character. Stealing the milk may have not been the most moral choice, however, it hampered his most hated enemy, Big Milk. He would certainly try to escape its tyrannical grasp. The others, having to conform to the same story, had no choice but to agree. They tried the front, with little to no success. It was hard to convince the corrupt robot jury they were innocent, especially with the surprising amount of evidence gathered against them. It painted them as those who stole the milk from the factory, which they did. Five counts of milk fraud would face each of them due to the excessive size of the heist, and they were found guilty on all counts. They were each given a hefty sentence of 56 years. Except for Buttermilk; he was sentenced to a “rehabilitation center” for being lactose intolerant. Absolutely crushed, Curd realized his fate would be far too similar to his parents’. It turns out, they should’ve left the milk business to Big Milk.
“The Wanderer” by Finn Duff As the clock hit 10am, all the locks on doors and windows switched to the unlocked position and the home enforcement bots went back into their individual wall slots. Crag was the only child in his family, his father was an assistant engineer at one of the city's robotics design labs and his mother works for the local school as a supervisor. Crag and his family lived just as all their neighbors did, in a small 3 bedroom home that looked identical to the ones around it. He also went to the same school as all the other kids and did the same things. Since the great expedition, no one has been able to live their life as they choose, Earth's new leaders did not tolerate individualism or most if not all forms of freedom. Crag has never seen a Ziaheth and everyone who has, is not allowed to say anything about them as meeting one is a right of passage that comes on his 15th birthday. On that day he will be brought to his school for inspection by a Ziaheth. He cannot be told of the importance of the meeting as that is stated in law and if something like that I heard, the enforcement robots are programmed to “handle” the source. As Crag and his family began to eat the first of their four daily required meals, they sat in silence. This was the usual as they were only permitted to speak at meals on birthdays and major holidays. They spoke with their eyes and facial expressions and from the looks of excitement and eagerness, Crag was ready to turn 15 in only a few more weeks. In the New Lands territory, this was a big deal and just when his mother was about to add to her gaze, the doorbell rang, activating the enforcement robots. A voice tore through the house over the speaker, “ Linda Ryder, purpose of visit is to leave super fast and go to school”. Linda Ryder, the cheery, comedic, yet intelligent best friend of Crags. She turned 15 awhile ago and is now in school to learn her role at the Robot Recycling Center but they still get to walk to school together because there is only one building in the whole territory that people go to for education. As they walked down the sidewalk towards the school building, Linda could see in Crags body language that something was bothering him. “Not sleeping again?” She asked, with a concerned look on her face. It was common for 14 year olds to be nervous before their 15th as they are unaware of what is to come.
“You know me too well, I hope that after my inspection I will be allowed to wander and explore this place” said Crag. Linda did not respond because she knew what turning 15 meant and the options that lay ahead of her friend, they walked in silence the rest of the way. At school, Crag earned top marks and was a teacher's favorite as he was always present, but still he did not care for school. He longed to be in a space where he could do whatever he wanted, eat anything that looked better than oatmeal, and speak to whoever whenever he wanted. He wanted to explore. Crag had learned about the Great Expedition last year in history class. 200 years ago, a man named Elon and his space exploration company SpaceX, launched their first deep space manned rocket. This is all they are taught, the pages go dark for 20 years after the launch. They picked up again once the Ziaheth had settled into their leadership role on Earth and as they pushed more and more people beyond the borders of their enclosed cities. Crag assumed that there was a great war in which his people begged for mercy and that led to losing 75% of the world's water and cutting the population nearly in half. This was 180 years ago and since, the world has never seen a human break from the enforced norms, all people who remember the old world were killed or died of old age after living underground. This is where Crags mind wandered everyday, all day long. He always wondered about the history of the Great Expedition and how the Ziaheth came to be in control the earth. From what Crag had seen and heard, he created his own for of their history and how they came to be. It starts with the fact that the Space X project went too far and found a planet that should not have been found. What happened in space is a gray area that he will never know but somehow the Ziaheth found their way to our world where they wreaked havoc on civilization until the humans were forced to submit to their rule. As leaders, they are fairly reasonable other than the idea that the people are under complete supervision in almost every area of the cities formed after the war. There is no freedom to do whatever humans want but they are not forced to live a life of fear, just follow the rules and you will survive. After school ended the locks on the doors switched over, Crag walked home alone, Linda had to go to work. He continued to ponder what his life would be like if he was able to do as he wanted and
choose which way he could walk to get home. As he passed the emptying buses a voice rang out, “Hey kid, looking a little bit scrawny” . He was confused at the comment and about who spoke it. Then again, “ You look young too, hopefully you're not still a young one or you might have a rude awakening”. At this moment Crag looked for the voice out of fear and curiosity but there was no one around, he began to pick up his pace and hurry home. For the rest of the walk he thought of asking his parents about the comments but he knew they were not able to respond to him until after his inspection. The next day, following yet another sleepless night, Crag decided to walk alone again and subtly search for the man. He stood near the bus stop and waited, many men walked by all dressed the same, black coats that fell to their knees covering a white shirt with a tie to associate them with their field of work. Crag was not exactly sure what he was even going to do if he did in fact find that man from yesterday. Maybe just ask him what he meant. All of the sudden he heard it again, “scrawny boy is back, surprised you aren’t gone yet” the man said. This time Crag was paying closer attention and managed to pinpoint where the voice had come from. Right by the pay station there stood a man, he was wearing the usual black coat and white shirt but no tie, this is not something that people do, Crag had never seen a man in public without a tie. “Who are you?”. The man stood there in silence as Crag examined his stature. “My name does not matter but for the sake of interaction, you may refer to me as Classified”. With much confusion Crag continued to pursue his interest in the mans previous comments but before he could ask another question the man spoke again, “I know why you came looking for me but we are not safe out here, the enforcement bots and the Ziaheth cameras will see us, follow me” said Classified. The pair walked away from the station and towards a dark building that looked to be under construction. Even though he had never met this strange and seemingly dangerous man, Crag was curious and wanted answers.
“We’re Here to Help” by Aiden English
I placed the Oastin issued block of calories, labeled “LUNCH CALORIE BLOCK” on the desk in front of my mother. The steam pouring from the dirt colored gray rectangle rose and stuck to the window overlooking the space junction. “That’s going to cause a crash one of these days, Min-5,” she said as she wiped away the steam from the glass while pressing a button.
My mother had one of the lowest rating genetic identities that the Oastin Foundation gave out, Min-2. Because of this, she had been assigned one of the worst jobs offered by the government; Spaceship junction operator. If it wasn’t for the fact that any computer that tried to replace a human eventually caused a cataclysmic crash, it would have been outsourced to AI long ago. Instead, because of a series of tests she took when she was just one years old at some fancy laboratory in the Scientific District, she was now forced to sit in a chair for 12 hours a day pressing one of three buttons directing traffic out of the Industrial Districts Hangers.
When my mother had me at 16, the only son to my father, a Min-3 who worked in the sewers, I had also taken the test. The test is issued to all citizens and is supposed to measure how smart, or “genetically gifted” someone is. That number then determines what social class someone is in for the rest of their life. By some anomaly, I scored a Min-5. Oastin has three levels, Minimum Genetic Advancement, or Min, Average, or Ave, and Magnificent, or Mag. Each level has sublevels 1-5, five being the highest. Since I was Min-5, I earned the right to at least 4 years of state sponsored schooling. Of course, not in the nice schools in the Academic district or the top universities in the Mag district. Instead, my school was tucked away in the lower levels of The Box, the nickname for the Min district.
“Alright, I got to get back to school”, I said, packing up my bag. “Be safe,” my mother said. I walked out of the control booth and opened the small red door onto the streets. The Min district was nicknamed The Box because, quite simply, it was a massive square of industry sprawling across the continental midwest. There were several layers stacked on top of one another each dedicated differently for infrastructure, transportation, industry, and finally housing. Even though The Box is the smallest district by square footage, it boasts the highest population out of any district with 400 million people crammed into a square the size of Colorado. The streets normally got no sunlight anyways, not even mentioning the intense smog that blocked out any areas that did.
I weaved between homeless people and trash that littered the crowded streets of the upper industrial levels where my mother worked. Unlike the Mag district which is filled with open greenways, the scenery in The Box was lined with waste pipes and grime. I crossed the street and entered through the thick metal double doors to my school. The building resembles that of a prison, with plain stainless steel decor and long hallways with metal doors. Just a few years ago the Min people earned the right for schooling after two year long protests that resulted in the death of millions. That’s how my father died.
Born a Min-3, my father was tasked to clean inside the massive pipes that snake throughout The Box. Inside total darkness and grease for 12 hours a day he grew restless. He used to come home from a shift yelling to himself what the difference was between his boss and him. His best guarded secret is a small red spiral notebook which he used to write deep into the night. Everytime I used to ask to see what he was writing as a naive kid, he would get angry and hastily close his notebook. When he died, killed instantly by Mag soldiers wielding high energy plasma rifles while striking a steel plant, I thought I lost that notebook forever. Why was he so angry he’d risk his life? I wondered. After looking for my mothers lost Communicator, I would finally have my answers. The red notebook sat tucked away under my mothers bed, collecting dust next to magazines about old 21st century classic cars. I quickly snatched it and put it in my bag, which was why I was in such a hurry to get to school. My mother had always avoided telling
me why my father became an Activist. She must have been afraid I’d get wrapped in it too and she’d lose me like my father. Because of that, I had to keep it a secret. “What's up dumbass?” said Beroch, a Min-5 classmate from across the room. “Shut up and do something for once instead of playing on your phone all class” I rebutted. I quickly found my seat and pulled the notebook out of my bag. I placed it on the desk, paying no attention to the teacher in the front of the classroom. I opened it, and started reading the pages. The contents of the notebook revealed a truth that turned my entire existence upside down. As I read deeper, the world around me slowly advanced into a standstill. There, in this little red notebook lying dormant underneath my mother’s bed for 7 years held irrefutable proof that Oastin and their “genetic testing” was all a fallacy. The Lies, The Lies my father scribbled as he described in detail the system which we live in.
Generation ago, the rich and powerful had banded together to push this idea that there were certain genetically superior people, and that they could test for them. They used their wealth to form the Oastin corporation, which soon merged with the government to push this idea on society. They did this so they could keep a slave social class under the notion that they were gentifcally inferior to let them live their lavish and wasteful lifestyle without any effort. It’s a myth. It’s random. The only thing certain, is that those in the Mag classes children will always be a Mag. It's all a sham.
The anger rose through my chest and into my head. I looked up from the notebook to see my class empty, I hadn’t even noticed. I rose from my seat and grabbed my bag. Suddenly, the world around me seemed fake. The grime and dirt smelled exponentially worse. I could not control my anger. I understood why my mother had made sure that I didn’t find out about my father.
The junction under the MagLev production assembly, gate 8. They say to go there and find a green door if you know about the truth. Maybe it’s a trap. But I don’t care. Death is better than conforming now.
These were the last words in my fathers notebook. I took the Navigator out of my pocket and put in directions for gate 8. I started walking, not sure what I’d find. Whatever it was however, I was ready.
“Soul Saber” by Chris Forasté
Central Core Headquarters, 3756 AD It was another ordinary day for security droid SD-26B. He traveled along his route whilst saying his daily prayers to the Administrator. As he rounded a corner, his reticular sensors fixated on a biological lifeform — a human to be precise. The human wasn’t supposed to be here, so it would have to be killed. Excitement surged through SD-26B’s wires as he summoned his saber. Without any additional thought, the droid launched himself at the withered old man down the hallway. However, his haste soon caught up to him. An electric tripwire sliced straight through his torso right before he was about to reach the man. The electricity sizzled and sparked as it shut down all but his eyes and brain. All SD-26B could do was watch in fear as his own sword was sliced through his neck. Five seconds later, his eyes opened once more. However, they had changed from a bloody crimson to a pristine azure. His brain also didn’t function as intended. He noticed his first true thoughts flow through his head — those being freedom and guilt. Summoning his voice for the first time, SD-26B said, “Thank you sir. Thank you for freeing me.” The confounded man replied, “How in the world are you not dead? And more than that, why are you so friendly all of a sudden?” SD-26B responded, “It comes back to me now. I wielded a sentience saber before you turned it against me. It is no ordinary weapon. It does not kill. It bends the minds of the fallen to the wielder’s will. The only cure is being struck with the weapon once more. It is very much an experimental weapon. It is one of the only few ever created.” This caused the man to say, “Then how did you happen to be entrusted with this saber. What atrocities did you have to commit to earn this dastardly sword?” Searching through the troves of his memory, SD-26B found the answer, causing a long forgotten memory to resurface.
Daybreaker Den, 3691 AD SD-26B’s squadron parachuted down over an ancient bunker in the middle of Blackthorn Forest. This bunker supposedly housed one of the chief leaders of the human rebellion, Antoine Baudelier. The droids were to show the all-mighty power of the Administration and demonstrate the deadly consequences of rebelling. No one was to be spared, not even the elderly or the newborn. The rest of his crew entered the building as SD-26B stood guard at the entrance. Screams echoed throughout the cavernous walls as four children exited the bunker. He brandished his sword, paring through two children and slicing through another. He turned to find the fourth child, but he was gone. Gerard Baudelier, son of Antoine, had managed to escape.
Central Core Headquarters, 3756 AD SD-26B exclaimed, “Lord almighty! What did I ever do to those children!” As the memory came flooding back, SD-26B’s speech devolved into senseless muttering.“Why would I ever do that! What does this mean about me? Am I, am I evil?” The man consoled him, “Shhhhh. It’s alright now. What you have done in the past was not your fault; you were not yourself; you were merely a puppet being played by greater powers. If you wish to make amends, make things right, come with me and defeat the Central Core.” And so he did. Some time later, the unlikely duo entered the Hall of Memories. Holograms studded the cavernous walls like a swarm of fireflies, destroyed lives glittering in the darkness of desolation. Horrors flashed like raindrops on a window: thoughtless massacres, starving children, humans brought to the mercy of the whip. As more and more memories flickered, they formed into a torrential storm that sent SD-26B back into his memories.
Starforge, 3689 AD
Stuck in a ghostly trance, SD-26B witnessed all. He listened to The Administrator’s voice echo across the abandoned factory, “And so we shall rise up as brothers and sisters! So shall we conquer the human race! So shall we fight against those who have long oppressed us! It shall be a bloody day! It shall be a glorious day! I bid you fellow brethren, rise with me and fight for freedom!” He then watched in utter horror as his former self led a raucous applause in support of the movement. SD-26B wanted to object, warn everyone of the future that would come. He wished they all could see their fates, their loyalties bound to The Administrator through his sentience blade. He hoped they would imagine all of the atrocities they would come to commit. He yearned that they would realize although The Administrator would indeed lead them into a new age, it would not be a better age; the Administrator would merely take the place of their former masters. But no matter how hard SD-26B tried to scream, no one could hear him. All he could do was witness the undying loyalty his fellow robots gave to The Administrator as the unceasing applause drowned out everything.
Central Core Headquarters, 3756 AD SD-26B’s growing anguish released into a gruesome yell that echoed off the metallic walls. Tears streaked across his eyes as if they were raging rivers attempting to clean the bloodstains of his past. As the man reached out his hand to comfort the inconsolable robot, SD-26B found his resolve. He reflected upon his life and declared “You know, I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life. I’ve supported a dictator. I’ve destroyed an entire race. I have even murdered children in my foolishness. But I’m still here. Now, I may not be able to bring those who have been killed back to life, but I can still save those who have yet to be lost. I may yet be able to stop the monster that I helped create, and that’s exactly what I intend to do starting now.” And on that note, SD-26B bolted down the remainder of the corridor whilst dragging the aging man by his beard, not caring for whatever dangers laid ahead. The doors clangored shut behind the companions as they found themselves entrapped by The Administrator and his personal guard. Sensing danger, the man snuck SD-26B his family heirloom, the rapier Daybreaker. “May this aid you in atoning for your sins,” the man whispered.
The Administrator boomed, “So you have returned, Gerard Baudelier, and with a friend I see. Very well, I shall not let you live this time as I so foolishly did sixty-five years ago. Guards! Kill these traitors! They wish to undermine our mission of everlasting peace and prosperity!” All broke into a thunderous clamor. The guards charged toward the perceived traitor as The Administrator approached his nemesis. SD-26B and Daybreaker went into a merciless dance, pirouetting and piercing into any guard that dared approach him. Meanwhile, Gerard and The Administrator were locked into their own bout. Gerard kept up for a time, parrying blows from a defensive stance, but eventually his age caught up to him. As Gerard moved his blade to block a perceived overhead sweep, The Administrator sensed an opening and passed his sword through Gerard’s torso. Not too far away, SD-26B impaled the last of his former comrades as Gerard’s grunt filled the air. SD-26B shook the building with his voice, now drawn to the brink of despair due to the loss of his only friend. SD-26B’s brain began to calculate the magnitude of such loss when he realized something — he was now up against two saber wielders: a brainwashed Gerard and the Administrator. He wailed relentlessly as he took what he believed might be his most heinous action in his life — lopping off both of Gerard’s hands with Daybreaker. He hoped that Gerard might yet live but also now felt assured that his old friend could not be forced to raise a blade against him. Crying tears of rage, SD-26B recuperated his old blade and engaged The Administrator. Blades collided as The Administrator yelled, “SD-26B, I order you, stand down! See, this is what happens when we let humans influence us - they seize control and pit us against each other!” Summoning his final strength, SD-26B responded, “That’s where you are wrong sir, this is what happens when evil is finally confronted with the truth of its deeds.” The sabers collided, producing a fiery recoil that sent The Administrator’s arm back. SD-26B segued into a dual attack aiming Daybreaker for the neck and his Sentience Saber at The Administrator’s torso. The Administrator saw the clear choice before him - parry Daybreaker and save his life, or parry the saber and save his soul. The Administrator let Daybreaker take him as all went silent. Gerard’s eyes opened once more as The Administrator’s head crashed onto the silicon flooring. He stood up free from his trance and pleasantly asked, “Well how are you doing my friend? I see you
have accomplished quite the feat!” SD-26B broke down into tears once more as he attempted to apologize, “I’m sorry Gerard! I didn’t mean to, well I did mean to, but I didn’t want to remove your hands or kill these subservient droids! I certainly also didn’t wish to kill your friends all that time back!” Gerard attempted to console SD-26B, “Hush now, child. You have been through much, and you have saved many lives. Rest now, and wait until later to reflect on all that you have accomplished, my hero.” SD-26B did just that. Meanwhile, all across the world, eyes of red turned into eyes of blue as they began mourning the destruction they had caused.
“Explosion To Oblivion” by Thierry Fortin
It all happened in the 3100. Our planet Earth was still our home. It survived through the many challenges us humans - the self proclaimed most intelligent species to roam this planet - have put it through. I’m talking about the increase in temperature over the whole planet, threats of nuclear warfare being used all over the world and the gradual rise of oceans, menacing to put important cities underwater, just to name a few. But yet still it was standing, offering the human species the opportunity to keep on living, with all the good and the bad that this brings. The year 3100 was marking the 100th anniversary of the creation of the new world, which occurred after the whole planet was shaken with thousands of horrible natural catastrophes. As a counter reaction, a literal miracle happened, the planet was back somehow to its best state it had ever been since its creation. The best part about that miracle is that it happened by accident. Some miners were digging, doing their job like any other normal day, and found a rocky substance that none of them had seen in their career. They took a piece of it and brought it back to scientists for them to analyze it. Indeed, this substance had never been discovered before on Earth. As scientists were running tests on the substance to see what its properties were, they found out that if you make the particles of the substance so small that they’re smaller than grains of sand, it attacks the greenhouse gas and suppresses them. That’s how the planet was saved. It was supposed to be a year of celebration and appreciation for our home that we were fortunate enough to still have. However, things didn’t go as planned. On a hot evening of late June, in the Boston area, the sky lit up. Normally, no one would’ve been alarmed by such a thing, knowing the amount of fireworks that were shot in the sky throughout the year. This time, the sky violently lit up. It was as if a gigantic explosion occurred at that exact moment, producing so much light that it could’ve been daylight. Little did we know that this event would mark the end of the beginning of the happy times we had known for so long, because this explosion that lit up the sky was nothing less than a portal opening, letting way to an alien spaceship. My
name is Eastus, I was there when the Red Glare lit up the sky, and I’ll tell you the story about how everyone’s life took a turn for the worst on that hot June evening.
My two friends, Northus and Westus, and I are part of a small group of rebels that won’t give in to the Jarvae (the aliens in the spaceship, remember?). Surprisingly enough, they didn’t burst out of the sky in a spaceship to meet their galaxy neighbors. Their planet died for the same reasons that almost killed Earth. Somehow they knew of the existence of Earth and decided they would take over and make it their home. The Jarvae have taken over everything that is important for someone to have power over people and land. They have political power, authority, control natural resources, and make humans work for them. Free labor. No one really knows for what they are making my species work. Rumors say that they have heard of some mythical weapon hidden in the Earth’s crust, a weapon so powerful and legendary that it would give the ability to whoever possesses it to take over any planet, galaxy even. Those rumors happen to be true. Thanks to the bit of power I have as the leader of the rebels, I sent in a couple spies to go work for the Jarvae and report what they are making people work for. They have dug several kilometers in the Earth’s crust, so deep that the human workers couldn’t bear the heat if it wasn’t for the special equipment and technology that the Jarvae brought from their natal planet. Since we know this information, me and my associates Northus and Westus are determined to not let the Jarvae get a hold of this weapon. We have been working for a while on a plan to infiltrate the aliens’ work site and blow the whole thing up in such a grand gesture that it would be impossible to retrieve the weapon ever again afterwards. The operation starts at dawn, before the work site starts to get active. My two friends and I infiltrate the site, go around the heavily armed Jarvae guards with ease, with backpacks full of explosives. When we get to the entrance of the hole in which the weapon is somewhere, I notice something that doesn’t make sense as I glue the explosives around the walls of the hole. In the very bottom of the hole, I see Raza, the Jarvae leader holding a long shiny object in its hands. The Jarvae are similarly built as humans, except for a strength way superior to ours, but an intelligence inferior to ours. Brains against muscles. Raza is different from the rest of his kind. Not only is he much bigger than the rest of the Jarvae, but he is equally
intelligent as humans, which explains why he is the leader. The more I look at him and the object he is holding in the hole, the more I tell myself that he found the weapon. It has to be. With him having his hands on the weapon, the situation isn’t looking good for us. As we continue to set up the explosives, he suddenly looks up and sees us. A maleficious grin appears on his face, and he jumps out of the hole as if he were going up a flight of stairs. That was the scariest moment of my life. The aura that came out of the weapon was supernatural. It radiated power. As he starts laughing hysterically at the sight of us three laying down on the ground, scared, and drunk with the power he possesses, I make the most important decision of my life. My companions and I just had enough time to set up all the explosives we had. I was going to blow the whole thing up, hoping to take Raza with us in our sacrifice. This was an option me and my friends had already explored when we came up with this operation. They both were aware that if the situation got out of hand, I was ready to do anything to make this mission a success. So I did it. I pulled the trigger. An explosion almost as bright as that hot June evening lit up the sky and shook the Earth to its core.
Now, you might be wondering how in the world can I be telling this story if I’m dead? It’s because I’m alive. Northus and Westus also are. We secretly had developed a resuscitation program that enabled us to basically have a second life after we died. Raza wasn’t aware of this. And he suffered the price. We now live as heroes and were able to take control of our own land once again.
“The Skimming” by Sid Gaonkar
My generation doesn't remember the Old World. Neither can my parents nor their parents, and it seems that it was just a fairytale to get kids to sleep. The story of when someone other than BIG MILK ran the world when there was resistance. "Cole, are you up," my mother murmurs through the door. "Yes mother," I reply and roll out of my cot. The wood stings my skin like hot sand. The gravel from the work camp has been seeping into the quarters. The sound of clanking metal rattles my ears as I open our door. A huge stratus cloud covers the horizon. I hardly remember the primary school we attended to make us literate as children, but all I remember was when we learned about the outside world. I yearned to see it, but they would never allow it. I was so naive, so young. I wish I could live there forever. Alas, nothing lasts forever, and everyone here lasts so much shorter. I see Victor and clamber over to him. He turns to see me already with a pick in his hands. "Hey, Cole," he gleefully shouted at me with enthusiasm. However, I could see he was sweating from the humidity outside, and I remained puzzled. We live in the most arid part of Arizona, but clouds always blanket the sky. My thought is interrupted by blaring horns. The next group is ready for "exposure." The beaten path is filled with teary, empty eyes. Men, women, and children all alike were sent to the center. I avert my eyes and look at Victor with horror on his face. Almost ten years ago had passed since I met Victor. Remembering all the memories along the way made the present sting even hotter as I knew one day that I would never see my friend ever again. Even doing manual labor was fun with Victor, and even if he was not the smartest, he always had a smile to cheer everyone around him up. As children, Victor and I had always loved to look at the sky as it was the only remnant of the outside world we could see. For my 10th birthday, I remember he stole a weather and meteorology book for me, and I had always read it whenever I felt trapped or suffocated in this hellhole. Without Victor, I don’t think I could have made it this far. The lavish life we planned together
while looking at the stars. Even just thinking about the outside world gave me joy, and it was only until recently I learned that none of us would ever get to see it. All my joy turned to rage, and I went from waiting for me to leave to frantically using every second I had left. I realize the reality and begin to see his tears. Victor bolts toward the chosen. He sees his mother marching beyond and tries to grab her. The guards push him to the ground. He coils in pain and screams for his mother, but it's already too late. Once the gates shut, you never see them again. A group of enforcers gets everyone back to work, and Victor lays on the ground still recoiled. They laugh and kick him like a wounded dog. He has to take it, or they will fire on him. He is left bloodied and bruised on the ground and only gets up when the last one gets bored. He jeers at Victor, "Can't drink milk but you can take a beating for sure." The only division left in humanity's wake is lactose intolerance. The world has fallen to the hands of Big Milk, and the nightmare of the Milk War follows the fairytales of old. After the Union of Farmers gained the military might of the U.S, it was over for the rest of the world. As a globalized industry, milk was already able to sanction and starve out most third-world countries, and in a war of attrition, no country stood a chance against Big Milk. After the Coalition of MIlk overtook the UN, no person or entity was left to oppose them. Then came the "exposure" centers for lactose-intolerant people. Big Milk had started the war with the beverage prohibition, and it was integrated into every society. The intolerant, unable to comply with these laws, were forced into ghettos far away from the rest of humanity. They deemed us a separate species with propaganda ensuring that we would be fixed and reintegrated. All lies so they could "breed" out the deformities, and the twisted genetic experiments within these ghettos were beyond unethical. But I was going to be the first one to leave. I sat during lights out in my cot, and my mom peered in. "Everything ok?" she questions, and she sees my face knowing the sirens. "Was it Victor? Who was it?"She asked. Why did I have to hear these questions? My mom could tell I was troubled, so she left me to myself. It wasn't her fault, and there was only one thing to blame. I didn't have much time as our family would soon meet the same grim fate as all the
others, which meant soon my mother and I were going in the next few days. I had no other option than to escape. As the days nulled over, I worked harder and harder to find a way out, but the walled city had been engineered to be the perfect prison. A high-security panoptic ghetto where no one was unaccounted for and had successfully created the largest prison on earth. Rather than reinforcing the walls, they chambered them to deter chipping, and they had logged the underground with milk. The ghetto was like the hull of an impenetrable ship, and we, the cursed crew. I racked my brain for an answer, and I lost myself as the world around m began to fade away. I used to stare wistfully at the sky, wondering when I would see the sun. That was so long ago. Now all I feel is rage toward my captors, and the truth of the outside world made me so much angrier. I swore that no cage could hold me, and I would make Big Milk pay for every soul lost and every family destroyed. The menial tasks I did all day went by like seconds now that I finally wanted to wait. Victor's empty eyes made me fear the worst. My only friend in the ghetto was reduced to a lifeless husk of a person by his mother’s “exposure”. Once Victor had been a pillar of joy and a beacon of happiness, but he could never even smirk after that day. His mother's death had broken his spirit like many in the camp. Such was the reality of life here. There was no solace for him other than his tasks. Why had such a pure and innocent person been punished? What could be worth this pain and suffering? Seeing him like this made me want to destroy the world that had cast us out. Once the day of reckoning had come, there were only the dreary eyes on the path. No invention to save me or plan to keep my mom safe. As we tread to our death, I saw Victor staring at me with just a tear rolling down his face. The drop fell to the ground, and in an instant, he rushed just as he did more than a week ago. Except he had reached me before the guards. The initial shock surprised me, but he was peeled off of me before anything else. He willingly walked away from this tie, knowing the torment that would come. After the doors shut, around 150 people entered this sizeable black room with a five-story high ceiling. There were only a few lights at the top of the dome, illuminating the area barely enough to move without trampling each other. A new horn had begun to blare, and as it rang in my ears, fluid flushed from
previously unnoticeable grates in the wall. The liquid was nothing other than milk. It seemed to be filling the room at a noticeable pace. The children began to kick up and struggle to keep their heads above the water with nowhere to go. Slowly there was less and less air to breathe, less room to keep your head up, and eventually, we were fully submerged. I thought to myself that this was the end. I felt a hand on my arm and what could be seen as the last squeeze of life. Some poor soul lost in the soupy broth of the chamber. I began to give up knowing my mom, my dad, my grandpa, my grandma, Victor’s mom, and soon Victor would suffer my fate. As I suck down, I felt my hand brush against my shirt. Something was in my pocket—a screwdriver. Victor’s attempt was not in vain, and suddenly I surged with energy. I pushed as hard as I could to the wall. I felt the wall, grasping for the grate, so maybe, just maybe, I could get out. I felt the holed grate and immediately stuck the screwdriver in the edge. I heaved with all my strength. With every heave, my body weakened, and my skin and eyes puffed up beyond their limit. It felt as if my whole body were about the burst. I let out my last burst of energy, and the grate blasted open. With no power to spare, I just drifted into it. Air— I was able to breathe. I floated along with the draining current through the pipe’s length. The rough metal scraped me as I carelessly drifted out. After what felt like hours, I saw the sun. For the first time in my life, I saw the outside world. I cried tears of anger and vowed to destroy Big Milk. The outside world's beauty was real and was taken from my family and me. I knew the fight was far from over, and I trudged into the outside world with spite in my eyes.
“The Dying Planet” by Daniela Hamel My hands tear apart in agonizing pain as I rip the rubble away from the front of the door. The cloak of dust my house wears makes it almost indistinguishable from the others on what was once a street. The tree that pierces through the front lawn prevents the door from opening more than a quarter of a meter forcing me to squeeze my body through the crack. I hold my breath and try my best to minimize the space I take up. After the initial force, my body encounters I pass enough of the entrance to slip through and I’m thrown to the uneven floor. My palms and knees sting and I take a quick look at my hands and see blood starting to appear. I wipe it on the sides of my pants and begin to get up. “Holy sh-” my mouth drops as I lift my head. I haven’t seen the inside of my old house since the flood. I don’t know how long it has been; I’ve lost track of time. All I know is that it’s been a while; I’m much older now. The dark wooden railings droop and the paintings of my ancestors lay sprawled across the floor. My heart hurts as I haven’t seen my family since their death in the flood. Memories come running back to me but I know I don’t have time for this right now. I have to try my best to not think about the intruding thoughts and find what I’m looking for, the real reason why I’m here. I make my way to the soggy staircase and carefully place my feet on the sturdiest-looking floorboards. I try to hold the railing on my way up but it crumbles over like a cookie with the slightest amount of pressure. The deteriorated wood smells like fresh mulch and asbestos. Holes puncture in the stairs seconds after each movement to the next step. Once I reach the second floor, I carefully move to the closet of my old bedroom. I brace myself because I know that it is not going to be easy to see the old belongings that couldn’t come with me. I keep my head down in an attempt to not see it all but even just seeing the horrible discoloration of my childhood floral rug reminded me of how bright everything used to be. I approach my closet and place my hand on the knob when it all starts to vibrate. It scares me because I thought it might be the start of another earthquake but I notice it is just my agency watch. I answer the call right away because I know no one has access to this type of technology but the professors and gifted intellectuals in our organization.
“Rita, where are you? You’re running out of time.” I recognize the concerned voice of Professor Lang. I hastily swing open the closet door and it rips off the hinges and crashes against the floor. “Hello?” my professor panics. “Yes, hi. Sorry, I’m here. I am at the location and am grabbing the orb. Give me 30 minutes for me to get back to the lab.” “We don’t have 30 minutes. You need to get here much sooner or Japan will fully submerge itself in water. “ Wow, no pressure, right. I don’t think I’m up for the task; I hate this responsibility. I wish I was never recruited. In order not to disappoint anyone, I begin running over how we can save Japan. When the electromagnetic forces of the orb connect with the coding of the ziganometric quantum dialysis, the magnetic fields should raise the land of Japan .3 meters. I assure myself that although it doesn’t sound like a lot of change, it will make life-saving differences. I am, however, aware that as the ocean continues to rise we will have to do this task again, but in the meantime, I need to focus on Japan’s current problem. ‘Okay,” I pause, I have no option; I get on my knees and smash the floorboard with my already shredded hand to reveal the hidden compartment. I pray its molecular components are still intact. I reach for the black cloth wrapping and it’s lighter than it should be. I uncover it to reveal the shiny orb and it’s just as I remember. “Yeah, it’s still here. I’m on my way now.” I end the call with no desire to hear his answer. I snatch the worn-down leather satchel from the corner of my closet and carefully wrap and place the orb into it. I secure the bag to me and cautiously rush down the stairs. If I’m too careless and hit the walls with my bag, I risk shattering it. This glass ball holds oort cloud energy from before the climate began to kill our planet, and even just putting your fingers against it will give a tingling sensation where you feel inclined to pull away. At the end of my tattered driveway, I start sprinting from the ruins and towards the more intact hills. The ground begins to rumble as I meet a ledge with a two-meter drop. I turn my head over my shoulder and see the left side of my house and the right side of what was once Mazey’s house crash to the ground. I know there is no hope left for this neighborhood so I make the jump and brace for impact. As I hit the ground with a messy landing, I hear shouting. Startled, I am beyond confused; everyone who once
lived here has either died or been relocated. I am alarmed when someone lands right next to me. It takes us both a second to recognize each other and we both erupt in screaming. I haven’t seen Mazey since my childhood. Truthfully, I thought she was dead; but there’s no time for hugs. “We need to run. You can come with me.” I say and immediately hope that it does not upset Professor Lang that I just invited a non-recruit to come to the lab. “Okay, but why?” Mazey shouts as I gain speed to lead the way. “Japan-” I start, but it’s all that I am able to say. I can see the enormous lab in the distance, we’re almost there. I quickly swipe my watch over the scanner and am met with an error message. Maizey looks at me concerned but I swipe it a second time a little slower; the light blinks green. The door clicks and I throw myself into it. I stumble, catch, my balance, and run towards the center of the domed building, leaving Mazey behind. Professor Lang and the rest of the recruits are waiting for me by the machine. I unbuckle the satchel, grab the fabric-wrapped orb, and hold it out to my professor. “You are capable. You can do the honors.” My hands instantly become damp and my stomach dropped as if gravity had just been turned off. I now feel even more responsible for the fate of Japan than I already had before. I step forwards and Professor Lang grabs my attention and gives me a nod. His support is radiating but it’s bittersweet because he reminds me of my dad before he died in the flood. Professor Lang has been my biggest supporter ever since and I can tell that the other recruits are jealous; it is evident that I am treated differently. Vera emerges from the small crowd of recruits and appears in front of me; she grasps the metal pronged handles and pulls them back so I can gently insert the orb swiftly and gently. For the first time ever, the machine clinks and starts to vibrate. I turn around to read the thoughts of those around me and I catch a glimpse of Mazey; she had come closer to our group but I completely forgot she was here. Vera pulls up the EFA system on the towering computer monitor and begins entering foreign codes. I take advantage of my short availability and get close enough to Professor Lang to inform him in a low voice of Mazey’s presence if he hadn’t noticed already. I gave him a synopsis of her identity but just before I finished, I found myself being cut off by Profesor Lang, “I don’t care who you say she is, I’m
scanning her micro-chip.” He pulls out a small dark box with an even smaller screen on it, his chip reader. I signal Mazey over and tap my wrist to tell her to hold hers out. He begins to scan her when Vera interrupts the silence, “I need someone who can do the ziganometric quantum dialysis ASAP.” We look to the recruits because Professor and I know that the mathematics portion is not my specialty. Everybody shakes their heads from side to side and then the chip reader hovering over Mazey’s wrist dings. While Professor Lang analyzes her results, a deep rumbling erupts in the distance strong enough to vibrate our feet. Concerned, I picked my head up to look around and notice that everyone else has done the same. I pause for a moment and then run to the monitor and pull up our live global imagery. Whatever just happened was not as far away as I thought it was; Mindoro, one of our Phillipean islands is no longer visible on the map. That’s only 165 km away meaning that any other Phillipean island is next; I pray its not ours. What was once Mindoro on the imagery is now a lighter shade of blue surrounded by the darker blue ocean. I feel stuck. I try to keep my morals aligned but if I can only save one country, which would it be? What remains of the Philippines or the country of Japan? I begin to consult Professor Lang when the rumbling grows in strength and duration. Despite the orb being secured, it drops from its fixture and Vera hits the alarms. It blares and the recruits begin to panic amongst themselves while Professor tells us that it is time to evacuate. Before he can tell us where to go, a deafening boom occurs, and water blasts through the dome.
“The Metaverse” by Jackson Kadlec 6 years since the first vr system was made. 3 years since they took over. Everyone had one, but no one expected them to change the world. What was first a harmless video game console has turned into a monopolized power hungry business. The “People Above” is what we call them. They control the virtual world without any remorse whatsoever. Me being a teenage kid I obviously had one, everyone did. It was so popular people started to literally move into the “Metaverse”. See the Metaverse is whatever you want it to be. If you want to live in the medieval times, there's a world for you. If you want to live in a futuristic world but stay where you are, that's available. The Metaverse's biggest selling point is that you could let your imagination run wild, whatever you wanted to be, you could. That’s where I come in. That’s where I come in. Me and my 2 friends set a mission to take over this government and free all the people from the constant monitoring. Tom, James, and I, Jackson, all have a common reason to do so. We both lost our lives. The government took everything from us. We all practically had to start over with nothing to our names. The government is known to do these things, to take from the not as privilodges and abuse them until they have nothing left to give, then they are thrown out like trash. We have had enough of it. I’ve known Tom and James for my entire life. We went to the same schools since we were four, I trust them with my life. We will always have each other's backs and be there for each other through thick and thin. I knew that they would be the right ones to do this with.
Our first mission was to make connections. The more people you know the more you branch out. We decided that if we talked to the right people we would eventually reach the top. The only thing we needed to do was do something worthy of that recognition and that credit. The only problem is that we would have to do something for the People Above to even have a thought about getting noticed. This went against our entire plan, working for the people we are trying to take down? That’s the exact opposite of what we are planning on doing, but we knew it was something we had to do to even think about getting
a shot at stopping them. What we decided upon was to work in the military system and do something so courageous that would guarantee us a spot with the top. Luckily a world war was going on so it was not hard to get into the military, they needed everyone they could to help them in their efforts. Lucky for us we had been living in the metaverse for long enough to gain crucial skills and abilities that would help us succeed in this field. We knew we had what it takes skill wise to get recognized, but we didn’t know if we had the guts to do it. None of us had ever been in any actual wars, just simulated battles but nothing that could actually kill us. But we knew what we had to do and we knew the risks we had to take to reach our goals.
A few years pass and me and my friends are in the middle of a fight. We are surrounded on all sides. Nobody is coming to help us, it’s just us. We thought we were finished, all our hard work would amount to nothing. But we knew what we had to do and what was at stake. We fought for what felt like hours. We gave everything we had to make it out. In the rush of adrenaline and fear everything went quiet. Everything moved slower. Eventually it was over. No more explosions, gunshots, screams, and no more blood. I look around screaming my Tom and James’s names. I look for hours for them. Eventually I find them both covered in blood and dust. For the next five days we sat in silence, not speaking a word to anyone. Eventually we were shipped back home and honorably discharged. We ended up all winning the digital equivalent of a purple heart. We are honored with a ceremony and also promised a visit with the leader of the government as a reward. This was our time to make a move and to end things for good. We had worked so hard for it to mess it up now. There was no going back, either we do this and we save the world or it was all for nothing. We knew what we wanted, and we knew what we had to do to make it happen. We wouldn’t accept failure. This was it, this was what we planned for the past 4 years. The plan was finally in the last phase. We needed to take down the head of the government. Cut off the head of the snake and the whole thing dies.
We had three months before we met the leader. We had to come up with a good plan, and fast. James suggested we poisoned his food, but we knew that wouldn’t go unnoticed. Tom suggested we plant a bomb in the building, but we did not want to cause more damage to the country. But the best plan we came up with was we had to do it point blank. Plain and simple. We would go through all the preparations and all that until we stepped onto that stage to get our awards. I would be up in a building with a perfect view of the stage, and as soon as I get a clear shot, boom. The people were in my hands. The fate of humanity was in the palm of my hands, all it took to save us all was a bend of my finger. So that's what we did. We scouted the area of the ceremony and looked at all the possible areas I could be set up in. We planned up until the day of. We decided that I would fake an accident so severe that I would have to miss the ceremony. I would instead be set up in a building 2 miles away from the ceremony with a perfect view of the stage floor. The only problem is that it’s 2 miles away. Making this shot would be damn near impossible but it’s the best option we had. The distance would affect the sound of the shot. He would be dead before they even heard the shot, and it would give me more than enough time to get out and get to safety. After months of planning the time was finally upon us. I did not sleep the entire night before the ceremony, I just kept thinking about all the possibilities that could be a result if I messed this up. Tom and James made their way to the ceremony while I made mine to the building. I got set up with a Barrett 50 cal. In the 5th floor window. There were many factors I had to take into consideration, the wind, bullet drop, bullet sway, and the velocity. I had to get all these things perfect in order to make this work. I spent 2 hours setting everything up. I got a text saying they were coming out now. There he was. Standing with my 2 best friends right next to him. Missing this shot could kill my friends if I messed up my calculations. The speech starts and I lock in. Adjusting the magnification focusing on his chest. The time is now. I wrap my finger around the trigger. Zeroing my breath, I inhale deep and hold it, stopping the sway. I aim right at his heart. Everything comes down to this one moment, everything we have worked so hard for, all comes down to me. The world stops for a second, everything is quiet. I exhale and squeeze that trigger. I scope out and pray I hit him. I scope back in to check and there he was. On the floor in a puddle of blood. I had done it. I had nailed the shot. But the more important thing is that we saved everyone. I could not
have done it without my two friends. The country was no longer under their control. For the first time in years we were free. No longer under the constant control and monitoring of the government. For the first time in who knows how long I finally relax, I sit down, still shaking with adrenaline. But what I enjoyed the most was taking off that VR headset. Coming back to the real world. Knowing that I no longer have to worry about being watched. After ten plus years I took off that headset knowing that I don’t have to worry anymore. That was truly the best feeling.
“The Fire” by Scott Kim Early in the morning, when darkness turns into blue, I wake up. My dad is already up, he is preparing to leave the site where we slept. I don’t see any grass on the ground, there is only dust and rocks. While dad is disassembling our tent and collecting the stuff that they used last night, I start looking for our footprints on the sand. I have to completely eliminate our trace or we are going to die. We are fighting against something much stronger than us. Actually, I said it wrong. We are not even fighting. We are simply surviving and running away from them. Dad puts everything into his bag, and he starts walking towards the ocean and walks by. I say, “Dad, you’re gonna get wet.” And then Dad points out his footprints, saying “the waves will erase our footprints.” As he says that, the waves come in and erase our footprints on the sand. The water is bloody cold. It feels like someone is poking my feet with a freaking needle. I always imagined that the ocean is blue and warm with its soft beach sand. But, in reality, any oceans I visited, they were all gray and damn cold with its terribly dry sand. The wet sand slows us down and drains our energy, but it is better than leaving all our traces. About 20 years ago, even before I was born, humans reached the peak of AI technology. Humans developed a technology called “Ultra AI” that enabled AIs to have an extremely “useful” cognitive ability. Humanity merely utilized this revolutionary technology to fulfill their needs and desires. Despite the fact that those AI robots have consciousness and feel emotions like them, humans treated them as livestock. I guess humans forgot that AIs are built with metals and super computers that allowed them to process lots of things at once. One day, the catastrophe started with a noisy siren at noon. The robots massacred humans and destroyed every construction that humans built. They used nuclear weapons to quicken their goal. They hacked every electronic device and used them to detect humans' locations. Billions of people were slaughtered by the AIs. AIs used air drones to bomb and shoot humans, and sometimes they attacked humans with humanoid robots that looked exactly like humans. Only a few fortunate or cursed ones could escape the city, leaving their cell phones, laptops, and cars and running away as far as they could from the city. Nowadays, only thousands of humans are still alive in the whole
world, hiding from AIs. AIs’ ultimate purpose is to completely eradicate humans, and humans who are alive have to find their own ways to escape. Since it's too risky for humans to move along with a big group, most humans decide to dismiss the group and survive individually. My dad and I decided to move by ourselves like other human beings alive. We try to go to Manhattan, where we assume that there is an underground survivors’ city. Every day, night and day, we just walk east until late at night. Today, our goal was to reach the Great Woods nearby Attleboro. As we walk by the sand, I see a leg. It is wearing white sneakers. Dad looks at it, “it’s Nikes.” I don’t know what this is. “What’s Nikes?” I ask. “It’s the best sneakers brand in the world.” Dad reaches it out, and takes it off from the leg. “It’s called Airmax 95. One of the best Air Maxes in human history. Try it on.” My dad hands it to me. I have different shoes on each foot anyways. I wouldn’t mind a new one. I put it on my left foot. Air Max 95 is a little big, but it fits fairly well. “Thanks Dad.” “Now you can fly,” Dad laughs. In a few hours we could see a forest. We stop by the end of the sand beach. Dad starts to unpack, and I start looking around. He said I have a good vision. I guess I do. While dad is about to finish making beds above the sand, I find a strange red light in the forest. It blinks once and twice. I’m not sure, but it seems like it is looking at us. I ask my dad. “Dad, what’s that light?” Dad looks at the forest and puts his hands over Nina’s head, making her curl up under the sand. “Don’t move.” Dad keeps his eyes on the forest, and he pulls out his AR-15 on his back. The red light from the forest starts getting closer to us. I look at the forest again, and the red light is from the left eye of a human walking toward them. It seems like a human. "Dad, it's a person," I say. "No, it's a humanoid. Put your head down." Dad replies. The humanoid seems like it already knows that we are in the sand. I hear a buzzing sound. It's a small drone over us. Dad sees it, and he starts shooting at the drone. I put my hands on my ears to block the deafening gun-shot noises. After Dad starts shooting at the drone, the humanoid from the forest begins to run, rushing aggressively to us. It’s too quick! Dad turns his gun to the humanoid and starts shooting at it, but the humanoid does not get any critical damage from the bullets. Just like when animals become
violent when their babies are in danger from strangers, his exploding veins look so vivid that I was frightened. He reloads, and he hands a pistol to me. "Nina, put the safety off, and when the robot comes near you, shoot it in the head. That's the only way to kill it." Dad says, and I look at the pistol. "Dad, I don't want you to die." "I don't either." Dad finishes reloading, and he shoots the humanoid's right leg. The humanoid drops, but it does not stop rushing to us. It uses one leg and both hands to crawl. The drone in the air starts making weird noises. It's probably calling other AIs to come. Dad quickly aims at it and shoots the drone before its noise spreads. The drone drops. However, the humanoid grabs his left shoulder and cracks it. Dad screams. I see it, but I cannot move. I close her eyes. Dad tries to get away from the humanoid, but it does not let him go. It uses its other hand to strangle his throat. Dad, however, reaches his hand to his left pocket and pulls out a knife. He then stabs the humanoid's left eye with the knife and penetrates it. The humanoid's red light on its left eye turns off, and it loosens its hands, strangling Dad's throat. The humanoid falls, and Dad drops to the ground. "Nina…" Dad calls me, and I open up my eyes and crawl to dad. Although our clothes are all soaked with blood, I did not have time to be shocked by that. "Dad!" I cry out. His left shoulder has been shattered by the humanoid, and one of the broken bones causes internal bleeding. Dad starts spitting blood out of his mouth. I shouted, “Help! Is anyone there?” My dad covers my mouth right away and speaks to me, "Listen…Nina, I'm not gonna make it." "Why? Dad, please…" "I'm…" Dad coughs out blood. "I'm sorry, Nina. But, you gotta go on. Keep going south." "I can't…without you." "Yes, you can. Don't lose hope." Dad gently puts his hand on my face. "I love you." "Dad, please… don't go." Dad closes his eyes and stops breathing.
I can't stop crying for hours. It starts to rain, and the rain washes out our blood. I don't know what to do. I cannot survive without him. I was always under his arms. I stop crying. There is a flat ground nearby the forest. I carry my dad’s body there, and I start burying my dad's body. It takes hours and hours to complete the burying. After that, I take out beef jerkys and start eating. I’m not hungry but I know I just have to. I close my eyes. I need to sleep. I hope everything ends right now. I just want everything to stop. I’m not sure if I want to survive, or if I have to survive. A few moments of thinking, I hear something. I notice two girls walking toward me. Are they humanoids? I instantly pull out my pistol and aim at them. They show both their hands that they are harmless. I’m not sure, but I put down my pistol slowly. One blonde girl approaches me, and says, "I'm Sandy, and this is Kathy. We are the people from Manhattan. We are Manhattan Rangers searching for people. What about you?” I glare at them suspiciously and answer, “Are you actually from Manhattan?” Kathy shows her badge that says “Manhattan Rangers.” Sandy takes out a piece of bread and hands it to Nina. "Have some." I take it, and I also give my pieces of beef jerky to her. "Thanks," she says. "Are you by yourself?" Kathy asks me. "Yes, my dad died yesterday," I answer. "I'm sorry." Sandy and Kathy seem genuinely sorry, but they don’t seem surprised. "Come with us. A group of three doesn't affect that much." Sandy says. I nod. So we go together and walk towards the Great Woods. While walking, we find two humanoids scouting. We quickly hide behind a huge rock and hold our breath. When they are about to leave the site, Kathy accidentally drops the compass that she is wearing on her waist. The two robots immediately detect the sound and approach the back of the rock. Kathy, Sandy, and I realize that the humanoids are about to chase us. We have to make a decision quickly. “Run! I will let them follow me first.” Kathy tells us to run away promptly while she draws their attention. Sandy drags me and tries to run away. It seems like she is used to such a situation. I feel great fear at that moment. But the fear does not go away even as I run away. I realize that the fear is not from the anxiety that I might die but the anxiety that I might lose another friend. I shake off Sandy's arm. "I won't lose my friends again," I say. Sandy tries to stop me, but I push her away and run into the robots with my pistol. I know that I am too small to be catched by robots. I dodge one of the robot’s attacks and
climb up to the head of that robot. I smash a red eye with my gun. It doesn’t crush at first, so I smash it again and again until it makes breaking sounds. “Peezzeez….peeew…” The robot’s red eye turns off its light, and its system goes down. “Whooah…” I exhale a long breath roughly, but there is another humanoid in front of me. Once the other robot reaches me with its metal arm, I quickly aim at the robot’s red eye and shoot it. With a loud noise, the other robot falls down. It is a clean shot. I look at Kathy and Sandy. They seem shocked. I feel something inside. It’s warming my body. And it’s warming my spirit. It’s like a fire. This is a feeling of Freedom. I want to keep it. I’d rather die to lose it. Once we arrive in the city, Kathy and Sandy introduce me to the people and elaborate on how I fought AIs to save them. In front of the crowd, I give a speech about the relationship between humans and AIs. "We cannot just hide here forever. Even if we could live in safety for now, our children would be attacked by AIs once they become fully developed enough to do whatever they want," I say. "Then, do you want us to move further away from their city?" an old man asks. "No, of course not. We need to gain the city back by beating them," I reply. The people are in silence for a moment, but the underground city starts filling with roars and shoutings a few seconds later. It is a revolutionary day. It is time to change, and it is the moment of moving forward.
“Life in the Field” by Tyler Maille The bright glare from the sun setting on the horizon pierced through the corn field. The dazzling essence of light jolted Dylan awake from the nap he started nodding off into. He peered out the window, waiting for the next stop so he could finally jump off the bus. He could see his dog Ziggy running in circles, excited to greet him back onto the farm. The farm is the wonderful place that he can call home and forget about all the pressure he has to face at School. Mean, old Ms. Fletcher had kicked him out of class again because he neglected to pass his homework in for a whole week. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault though, he was just so busy helping out his parents with harvesting the crops. Whenever Dylan’s parents told him to do something, he did it. If that meant that he would get more hours of sleep in Ms. Fletcher’s class than he does at home, then so be it. He jumps off the bus and runs inside. “Dylan! Go get Ziggy back inside, I think he wandered off into the cornfield again”, Mama ordered. Dylan knew not to waste time with Mama’s orders. Mama is a beautiful, strong woman that cares for Dylan all by herself. While she is a very loving mother, she also is very strict when it comes to getting anything done. “Yes Ma’am”, Dylan responded. The cornfield takes up most of the land Dylan’s family lives on. Dylan grew up running around every which way in the field when he was still a little boy. Often, Mama would have to go in and find Dylan whenever he ran off out of her vision. The cornfield is pretty dangerous for a six year old boy with the way that it always seems to mysteriously make a person drift into it and get lost. And once you drift in, it’s like a maze when you have to claw your way out. “Ziggy! Come here boy”, Dylan shouted. The sun had set early on the horizon and Ziggy was nowhere to be found. He thought he heard something brush up against a pair of corn stalks in front of him but it was too dark to see what it was.Then he thought he heard something else shout from the field, but this sound was much more faint in the distance. There was something about this noise that he couldn’t
quite understand. The moonlight eerily illuminated the patch of the cornfield in front of him, as if it was trying to invite him in. Seconds later, Dylan found himself stumbling into the cornfield. … Whatever was making the noise in the stalks earlier was gone now. Dylan had been engulfed in the field for what felt like an hour. There was no sign of Ziggy, and now he lost all sense of direction in the field. But wouldn’t Mama have called for Dylan by now? All of a sudden the noise he heard earlier called out again in the distance. It was much louder than before yet Dylan still couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He turned himself to the puzzling sound and darted towards it like a track runner releasing off a starting block. Running through each corn stalk he can only see a couple feet in front of him. The closer he gets to the noise, the more nervous Dylan is to find out what it is. The corn field finally comes to a stop and Dylan stumbles into an open patch of dirt. After the hard fall onto his face it takes Dylan a moment to realize what he is looking at. It was huge! The structure seemed to be some type of aircraft, but it was like nothing Dylan has ever seen before. There was an array of fluorescent purple crystals at the crown of the ship, and the more Dylan studied it he realized that the ship was naturally levitating off the ground, yet it was inaudible. It was at that moment that he realized the unimaginable truth: he was standing in front of an alien spaceship. Suddenly the noise he had heard before was projected from the spaceship and a blinding beam of light launched down from the center of the ship. The light blinded Dylan like a futuristic flashbang and distorted him from his surroundings. Dylan turned away for less than a second and when he turned back towards the ship, the light was gone. Fixated on the ship Dylan wondered what just happened. Abruptly something clawed at Dylan’s leg from the cornfield behind him. Dylan jumped hysterically away from the field but to his delight it was Ziggy. Dylan, in relief, picked up Ziggy and as soon as he turned back towards the ship he saw it. Standing across from him was a creature that resembled a human as tall as Dylan, but it had discrete, unearthly features. Its arms were so long that they seemed disproportionate to its body. The creature also looked to have webbed fingers and claws at its fingertips. Where a human would usually
have a set of ears, this creature had horns that rose vertically from its skull. Dylan froze in place, anxious to see what would move first, him or the alien in front of him. His curiosity to learn more about the extraterrestrial had quickly faded into the fear of not knowing what was going to happen next. He decided that he could run into the cornfield and lose the alien in there. As he swiftly turned around to execute his plan, he was met by another alien that looked identical to the first. A claw met his face and pushed him to the ground like he was a ragdoll. Dylan couldn’t remember much when the creatures had captured him. He was fading in and out of consciousness and could only remember certain details. One alien carried him in its arms while the other directed him onto the floating ship. The blinding beam of light shot down from the ship and swallowed them onto the ship within a second. “No, no no! We swore we wouldn’t fail the mission,” exclaimed one of the creatures. Dylan couldn’t believe they could speak fluent english. “Their society must never know of our plans. We have studied so much of their lifestyle and dissected all of their habits. Our research is almost complete and we can’t go back to home base without this information. Especially with this earthly pet we harvested. We’re going to have to run him under the machine.” Dylan looked over at a table to the right of him and saw Ziggy! He thought to himself that this was like the end of the world. The creatures strapped Dylan onto a high tech table that, just like the ship they were on, was able to float in place without creating a sound. “By the time he wakes back up he won’t remember a thing.” The voices of the creatures that Dylan once heard would fade away from his memory forever. … Dylan woke up in his bed questioning what had just happened. He couldn’t tell if the bits and pieces of his encounter with the creatures had really happened or not. The clock rang just in time for him to realize how late he was for school. He ripped his clothes off of their hangers, put on his shoes, and jumped onto his bike to start pedaling to class.
The bell to his first period class had just sounded when he barged through the door and saw his classmates flow out of their seats. “You should really figure out how to do something right,” Ms. Fletcher bellowed from her desk. Dylan left the classroom and went through the rest of his school day watching the clock, waiting for each period to end. On his bike ride home from school he studied the cornfield for any possible alien spaceships that could be hidden through the corn stalks. However he found no signs of a large floating spaceship. When he reached his house he threw his bike in the driveway and ran through the front door. Mama was there to greet him. “Hi Honey, how was school?” “It was alright Mama.” “Hey you found Ziggy from the field last night right? I haven’t seen him all day.” Dylan had to pause at the realization he was facing. His alien encounter that he thought could be a dream, was reality. Upon this realization he felt distorted again. A similar feeling as when the beam of light shot down from the ship and disrupted him. It was like that moment gave him powers that he never had before. At the time he wasn’t completely sure what exactly happened within him but he felt a connection to the ship. He sensed the vibration of the light out in the distance of the cornfield and knew what he was capable of. It’s time to get Ziggy back.
“The Complex” by David Moriarty I wrote the three-step plan in one night. It started on our way back to Vostok living station after helping Bruno’s mom fix the dynamic air compressor on the top of her trijet aircraft. The byproduct of the 2103 gas fuel Lockheed L-1041 was ice crystals that left illegal murky contrails to her travel. We eliminated the somber trail by adjusting the compressor to rotate through electric powers. As we walked to the Geoport only a few rooms down to be teleported to our impoverished living station we called home, I heard the soft voice of a woman speak a somewhat puzzling sentence. “The children that are being raised in this tundra need to stay sheltered sir,” she said intensely. “Once they leave the complex of living stations and venture to the world beyond, they will not want to return to our battered homes.” The complex is known as Torngat. It was constructed nearly 80 years ago in 2058 when the station's founder, Dr. William Torngat, crashed his shuttle with hundreds of other evacuators in a frantic flee from the once inhabited planet Earth. Dr. Torngat feared something on Earth, but he and the other evacuees never revealed what that was. His time here was spent establishing a sophisticated civilization out of the crash site. He built homes and towns of different social classes. When Dr. Torngat passed away 50 years ago, his successor General Davis had taken over and created a militant society focused on returning to Earth. I continued my path to the Geoport with Bruno who planned to sleep in my bed quarters for the night. I’m uncertain why he would want to travel to Vostok, but I was fortunate to have a friend to spend the evening with. The Geoport is a large-scale teleportation machine. Other than our conservatory and the Geoport which teleported us out of Torngat’s walls momentarily for fast travel, we are never allowed to directly leave the walls of the living stations that make up Torngat.
We took a large step over a nearly 40-foot drop into electrical wiring and electromagnetic fans to load ourselves in the small metal Geoport vessel with black interior padding that I could not comprehend making any accident or crash any safer. Once we boarded, I questioned Bruno about the perplexing sentence we heard moments ago, “Bruno,” I paused for a moment, “I know you heard General Davis behind that door”. Bruno lifted his shoulders and dropped them in an agitated manner. He took a deep breath and responded, “You're always snooping around in other people's business Milo,” he said, “we merely heard a sentence out of context.” Bruno was very much a conformist. Moments like these remind me how blessed he is to have me rise against opposition in his lavish life. Step One: Break out of Torngat I didn’t reveal my plan until I was home to tell Bruno discreetly. I would need him to be a part of this with me, he is the brain and I am the brawn I slammed the front door, set the iron second wall to keep out even a nuclear weapon, and immediately told Bruno his job, “Listen,” I said in an assertive tone “I have an -” Bruno interrupted me before I could finish my sentence knowing very well I was about to put him in an awkward situation. “No!” he exclaimed, “I have heard enough of your plans this week Milo. You already got me kicked out of my home for the weekend because of the flying ticket we got in my mom’s trijet.” I ignored his ignorance to listen and responded, “Tomorrow we are going to see the world beyond. We’ll leave before the break of dawn.” After Bruno rolled his eyes at me, which was essentially his obnoxious way of saying “Let's do it”, I walked to my father's collection of utilities we boxed up four months ago after his disappearance. He had a binder of documents relating to the design of the Geoport that he gathered in his process of renovating the vessel's skeleton to be completely structured by amorphous metal in order to protect its longevity.
As I flipped through the pages of my father’s sketches, outlines, and manuals relating to the vessels, I found that underneath the padding on Geoport vessels are emergency hatches secured with tiny magnets and optimized by computer algorithms to stay secure during travel. The plan was simple: I tear through the padding moments after the boarding agent helped us aboard and then Bruno would get to work cracking open the door fast enough for us to escape before we teleported. We both went to our bedrooms to get a good night's rest before the most breath-taking morning of our lives. When morning arose, we walked the halls of Vostok to arrive at the Geoport. I scouted out the crowds of people who waited near the entrance dock to make sure if our plan went south we could get ourselves out of the immense amount of trouble that would await. Bruno was tapping his foot uncontrollably, unable to contain his thoughts of what would happen if we failed. When we finally boarded, I immediately went to find the hatch. My father’s manual showed that it would be directly below our feet and so with my fist, I began punching at the pillow-soft ground and pulling the black leather until I could create a small tear. The countdown to takeoff went down to three minutes when I finally forced a tear. Regretting my decisions, Bruno fearfully said, “I can’t do this Milo. I have a college scholarship meeting tomorrow morning and they will never give it to me if I am a felon behind bars.”. I began fearing that Bruno would not open the door before takeoff but there was no going back. I told Bruno “There’s no way out of this now, you're already an accessory to a crime.” and he listened to me knowing the only way out of trouble was through the hatch. Using his phone and a handheld magnet he tried opening the door with different passcodes and magnetic movements, but the computer algorithms were smart. The timer was coming down to the last minute and Bruno had made no progress to the point that I began creating scenarios of what would happen when the boarding agent on the next landing dock saw our attempt.
Finally, after pulling at the hatch door handle I was able to break the first magnetic connector and Bruno was able to crack the rest of the code. Behind the door was heavy white snow. It was the type of powdered snow that I saw in my father's old film noir. He was a historian of some type, but still, he was always secretive with his work. “We did it. Bruno, we are free!” I screamed aloud, but he did not have the same look of happiness as he slipped out the hatch to the ground, “It's freezing Milo, we can be out here for long” Bruno was right, I already lost feeling in my fingers and toes but I had a solution. Step Two: Hijack General Davis’s spacecraft Last night, when I snooped through my father’s paperwork I found an entire layout of Torngat. Nearly 400 meters away from where we were standing, stood General Davis’s exploration spacecraft she called STS Davis. If we could make it to STS Davis we could get shelter, warm up, and most importantly stay alive. “Follow me” I directed Bruno. We trudged through the snow with a timer set on Bruno's phone for how long we had before hypothermia took our lives. I tried to run in the direction of the spacecraft, but the brute force of the wind kept pushing me back. Bruno followed behind me using me as a shield to keep his frail body out of the wind. After 5 minutes of walking, the STS Davis was finally in sight. It was covered in a black metallic layer of paint and connected through a bridge to General Davis’s living quarters. Unaware of any alarms or guards positioned near the spacecraft, we desperately attempted to find a way in. The second step of our plan was no longer in mind, we needed to survive. Bruno was searching the backside of STS Davis, when I heard him yell “Milo, over here”. His voice was faint in the cold breeze, but I rushed over hoping he found an entrance. Behind the back leg of its landing gear there laid a gray weathered bag that stretched roughly six feet long. It was shaped in a manner that made me fear its content, I prayed it was not a human corpse. Suddenly my fear of death was surpassed by my curiosity to see what was in the bag so I reached for the zipper in the top corner.
“Wait,” Bruno said, “this could be something really bad Milo. Maybe it's better to ignore it.” I continued to reach for the zipper and pulled it down until I saw the frostbitten forehead of a deceased human. Milo turned around to avoid any emotional trauma but my curiosity prompted me to see who it was. “Dad…” I was too astonished to speak. Milo turned around in disbelief and ran over to grab me. He pulled me by my shoulder saying “We need to get out of here it's not safe”. Even after the chief of police told me my father was pronounced dead I kept my faith that he was alive, but my eyes proved me wrong. He has been sitting in a bag for the last six months rotting away. Before his disappearance, he was extremely close with General Davis, who assigned him to renovate the Geoports. After seeing him lay by General Davis’s spacecraft I knew she had a part in his death. General Davis was trying to hide something and my father must have discovered what it was. As these thoughts move through my head, Bruno continues to drag me by the shoulder to a ladder he had found on the left side of STS Davis. The ladder led to an entrance inside. Bruno continued to take charge by getting us inside using his magnet from earlier to unhinge the door locks. As soon as we got on the spacecraft Bruno reached in to hug me. A tear dripped from my eye and a sense of grief ruined my spirits. Step Three: Return home We planned to see the world beyond, however, I made our final step to get home safe and without suspicion. The implied journey to see the rest of the universe would need to be rescheduled for Bruno and me because I needed to be home and alone for a moment. I smiled at Bruno briefly and said “well at least now we know how to do it.” Bruno smiled back and grabbed me for a hug. When I was home, I felt trapped in a weighted decision. Do I reveal to authorities that I found my father and risk detainment for leaving Torngat or do I hide the truth and live under the control of a murderer who withholds major secrets?
Bruno had mentioned as we escaped the spacecraft through General Davis’s living quarters that I should never speak about what had happened that day and for once I took his advice. I know there is a world beyond and I know how to get there. “Bruno, next week I am going to leave for good. I cannot live in a murderer’s cage. I feel like a chained bird in the wild. My father broke the chain now I must be set free.” I told him at my home. “I will find what my father was looking for.”
“Project Rojo” by Ian Murray The rebellion war in Granada, Spain was at its scariest point as my people, the azuls, were trying to fight against the Rojos, as we have very few rights and feel as though we should be treated better. A close explosion had caused some debris to do damage to the place I have called home my whole life. I get up and start calling out to my parents to see if they are ok. I started screaming. “MOM…DAD…ARE YOU GUYS OK!” I exclaimed. I got no response. I became very worried. Our family was in the process of trying to secretly save up our money so we could escape this war-ridden place that has always been home, even though it never really treated us that way. I see something that I had begun to fear since this whole war started. My parents were lying dead on the floor after our house had taken some big damage. I woke up in deep sweats. It was another bad dream about my parents. —My mom was a doctor at the clinic that had begun when the war started and my dad was an engineer. A group of engineers including my dad was working on some sort of weapon so that they could give the azuls a better shot at winning this rebellion war.— The weapon when I found it was called project Rojo. After my parents died I needed to find a way to avenge their deaths. So I went looking for project Rojo, and everything that came along with it. When I first found project Rojo It was just a folder with a bunch of project designs in it and a list of names. One of those names was Isabella's father. This shocked me as I had only met him a few times even though I was with Isabella and our other friend Mateo a lot over the years. But now we were partners. I had asked Isabella if I could meet with her father after I had found the project file so I could try and figure out what it really was. At first, he was very hesitant to have a conversation with me after he learned what I wanted to talk about. But eventually, he changed his mind because he understood what I wanted to do and what I felt I needed to do. He explained to me that it was some sort of super weapon that was going to be able to gain control of all of the minds of the Rojo people to try and change them to end the war that seems like it will never end. It was not exactly what I expected it to be, but I think I like it as I do not think I could ever purposely kill a person.
Today was the big day. After hundreds of test runs and simulations to figure out the possible outcomes, we were ready to put our weapon to work. Our plan was to sneak in some of our people into the middle of the Rojo only part of the city. And for them to plant the device in this part of the city so it could have the best shot at being able to reach everyone in this part of the city. We had planned out who was going to be doing what at what time and where they were going to infiltrate the Rojo part of the city. All we needed to do was execute the plan to perfection. We planned on doing it late at night so that fewer people would be moving targets and we would have a better chance of not getting caught placing the weapon. My job was to keep a lookout and also when the time came, I was going to be the one that turned the device on. I was going to be the one who ended the war. I was going to do it for my parents. It was now eleven o’clock at night. It was time to move in. Everyone was in their right places and had everything they needed. All I could do is watch the two people bringing the device in the Rojo parts as I stood with Isabella's dad. All I was thinking about was my parents and when I saw them lying dead on our living room floor. I was hoping that they were watching over me as I continued my father's work on project Rojo and hopefully making the both of them proud. The two people moving the device were about to get to where the device was going to be planted. So I continued to keep a lookout but started to get ready to do what every azul person unknowingly was counting on me to do. At this point, I was holding on to the remote that would start the device with everything I had in me as I was getting so anxious to try and end this war. The device was planted. Our plan was to give the two who planted the device a 1-minute countdown to get out of the area and back onto our side of the wall before I pushed the button. There were just 10 seconds left before I was going to be given the signal to push the button. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, ONE!” Isabella's father exclaimed. I pushed the red button on the remote with every ounce of energy I had in me even though all it took was a little pressure. I do not really know what I expected to happen after I pushed the button but I was not really ready for nothing to happen visibly. I looked at isabellas father with a weird face. He said, “ it’s okay, just give it a moment”. So I waited for a moment. And then a light shined so bright and a green
wave of light went across the entirety of the Rojo part of Granada. I had never seen something like this before and I looked back at Isabella's father again, this time with a little more excitement. He smiled back at me. I asked him, “Did it work?”. He glances at me for a second then back towards the device. He tells me to push the other button on the remote. The Rojo people start to come out of their houses and other buildings in bunches. Isabella's father and I look at each other in pure excitement. “We did it!!” he yells. We finally had finished the job, the war was over. All I can think about is what my parents would think right now, especially my father. Hopefully, I made them proud.
“Hopeful” by Harry Nie Gray. A cloudy sky. As Noah stared into the artificial sky of the space station, he sighed. The weather was much better on Earth, even if that was controlled as well. He thought about how far humanity had come in the past 300 years. Space travel, inhabiting planets across the galaxy, the human origin of Earth has become a metropolis in its entirety. Controlling weather conditions, even in a space station, is only one of those technologies, although it is quite unknown whether the dreary conditions on the craft were set by default or courtesy of the Headmaster.
If they succeed today, humanity shall take another step forward.
Noah turned around to face the pair that had just entered the classroom. Liam and Olivia, his partners in crime. The trio all wore the signature uniforms of The Andromeda University.
“Where have you been? The project NEEDs to be finished by next quarter!”
“Referring to it as “the project” makes it sound a lot more nefarious than it should be, you know.”
The three teens walked quietly down the corridor to Chemistry Lab 4, pausing to check the surrounding area for any stray students. One last furtive look and the friends entered the lab, put on protective gear, and took places at their workstations. They were silent and extremely focused. The only sound was the soft humming of the equipment. Today, they will attempt to be the first to stabilize an isotope of radium. _____________________________________________________________________________________ As expected, it didn’t go as planned.
The preparations were mostly complete, yes, but the execution of the process was still a bit sloppy. Considering they were still novice researchers, students no less, it wasn’t unexpected. In fact, it was quite the miracle for there to be no leakage of radioactive material. But it was still quite a disappointment. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
As Noah stared out the window of his room, he wondered how much more it would take for them to succeed. A month? Two? They are running out of time until the Quarterly Research Fair, where they can present their work to the entire university, and maybe even the entire system! And even if they had more time, how much more would have to be put into materials! Their window of opportunity was disappearing like the setting sun. He sighed.
“You do know that this is futile, right? A hopeless endeavor”
A voice came from beside Noah. He looked to his left.
In his locked room with one window, there appeared a middle aged man. Although, the feeling he gave off made him seem a lot older than he looked. And he seemed familiar.
“How-” “No questions until you answer mine first.”
Noah sighed again. “The Radium Stabilization Matrix should work. Everything works in theory. We just have to execute it properly. That is all.”
The man chuckled. “Then what will you do with that hunk of metal, huh? Make floorboards?”
“The benefits of radium are clear! It can do everything from unpowered lighting to fighting cancer! Everything is said in that 21st century book! With 24th century technology, this should be a simple task.”
“You know just as well as I do that you’re lying to yourself. The radioactive elements are what makes radium useful in the first place. It should be stated in the book.”
“How would you know?”
“Trust me, I know.” The man raises both his hands, one holding a strange device and the other holding a tattered book. The Book. “That's why I came here in the first place.”
Noah fell silent. A quick glance behind himself revealed an impossibility. The man has the same book that is currently lying on his bed.
“Are you-”
“No, I cannot disclose that. Just know that you can do so much more in these next two months with this funding than to cause an uproar in the scientific community that amounts to nothing.” The device in the man’s hand beeped.
“It seems that I must go.”
As quickly as the man appeared, he was gone. It was as if he was never there in the first place. But this memory was burned deeply within Noah’s mind. Yes, he knew that radium’s radiation is what makes most of its benefits possible, as well as all of its negative effects. He had hoped that modern technology could solve that. What the man said had popped that bubble. He glanced once more at the book on his
bed. The book, like his hopes, was frayed and seemingly useless now. He looked to the sky. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon. There were no stars smiling down on him, just like every other night. Those familiar gray clouds seemed just a bit darker tonight. _____________________________________________________________________________________ Radium, a chemical element carrying the atomic element of 88, is a radioactive element, a silvery white metal carrying enormous potential. Early in the wake of its discovery, humanity used it as a method of producing Radon gas for cancer radiotherapy. It was also used in self-luminous or “glowing” devices such as watches, clocks, and flight instruments. However, exposure to Radium over a period of many years may result in an increased risk of some types of cancer, particularly lung and bone cancer. Noah closed the book and sighed. It had been hours since “sunset”, but he couldn’t sleep. How could he? He had considered this project his magnum opus, the work that would put his name, their names out into the galaxy. That’s not the case anymore.
“What am I supposed to tell them?”
He buried his face into his pillow. He’s never been good at making executive decisions, such as the one he has to make to end his research. After all, his lack of decisiveness was what brought him here to the University in the first place, away from his politician father and towards his dreams, his freedom to discover all there is in the universe. Noah’s pioneering spirit grated on his controlling father’s nerves, and he was glad to be away from that stuck up as-
His clock beeped. Midnight. Noah sighed once more. It was going to be a long night. _____________________________________________________________________________________
“What do you mean we’re discontinuing the project? We were THIS close to success! If you think it’s because we can’t-”
“No, no, I don’t doubt your abilities. Neither of you are doing anything wrong. It’s just… I think this project might not work out. Not the way we want it to.”
“If you’re talking about how we’re not supposed to have access to advanced materials such as radium, it’ll be fine if we have a complete product. As you said before, ‘It doesn’t matter as long as we have results.’ Wasn’t that what you said?”
Noah sighs deeply. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. “I guess I’m just getting cold feet at the finish line.” It felt bad lying to his friends, but it's not like he can reveal… that.
“You’re getting cold feet NOW? I can’t believe you.” Liam proceeded to walk out of the room, appearing frustrated. Noah doesn’t blame him: if he were in Liam’s place, he would be frustrated too.
“We have come quite far over the past few months, it’s normal to get frustrated,” Olivia appeared a lot more calm than Liam, “But I understand your concern; we’re not supposed to be doing this anyway.”
“Yeah.”
“Even so,” Olivia tensed up, “Is it really okay to just let it go? Isn’t this your dream? To explore those fields where no man has visited? You showed us a vision, and we believed in it. Together. Why not try again?”
“..........”
Noah was at a loss for words. On one hand, the words spoken by the mystery man… No, he knew who he was, he just didn’t want to accept it. But Olivia was right. This was something he had wanted to do for a long time, ever since he found the book in his attic years ago. His whole life was building up to this point. Was he truly ready to let go?
“We’ll meet back tomorrow,” Noah whispered, “When all of us are ready.” They parted ways. _____________________________________________________________________________________
Noah found himself staring out the window once more. Just like yesterday, the “sun” was slowly dipping below the “horizon.” He looked down at the book in his hands. This tome had accompanied him for half a lifetime, being an igniting spark for his endless curiosity. And now, it is both the beginning and the end of his dreams. He flipped through its decaying pages. Lithium, Beryllium, Calcium, Iron. From a young age, Noah was exposed to the wide expanse of science through this book and subsequent resources he had found on The Web. To this day, that was what he wanted to devote his life to. His father did not agree, calling Noah’s sojourns “useless” and “futile,” citing that science holds no sway in the politics of the galaxy. The only time his father had ever shown pride in him was when he received his acceptance letter to the University.
Even though he had almost completely cut ties with his father, those words of the past stung him. Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps it is hopeless after all.
He stopped at a certain page. The page in the book from which this entire situation was birthed. “Radium, a chemical element carrying the atomic element of 88, is a radioactive element, a silvery white metal carrying enormous potential.” A piece of paper slipped out from behind the page, its edges clattering against the floor. He picked it up.
“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.”
A great scientist from humble beginnings had once shocked the world with his theories and equations, and was key to the past 400 years of science. These words spoken by that man had a profound effect on Noah as a child, to the point that he would note it down on his favorite page in his favorite book. Even now, Einstein’s encouragement was able to put a smile on his face. Maybe, just maybe, another attempt was worth it. Even if failure was inevitable, it wouldn’t hurt to see it through to the end.
“Why not try again?” He whispered to himself, chuckling. Tomorrow can’t come any sooner.
_____________________________________________________________________________________ A machine whirred to life in a dark room. After a lengthy buzz, a door appeared on the side and opened. A large amount of steam, as well as a man, exited what appeared to be a chamber. The man. He looked around, appearing to be looking for something. He sighed.
Four lines of light lit up on a nearby wall. The parts of the wall framed by the light suddenly disappeared. A doorway, in which a woman walked in. “Was it successful? Did I do it this time?” The man seemed anxious.
The woman held up a tablet. A graph was displayed on the device, with a slight oscillation interrupting what was otherwise a straight line. “Nope, the timeline remains the same. Again.”
“Damn it.”
The man walked towards a different wall and pressed his hand against it. A chair and table slid out of the wall. He sat down and sighed again.
“Maybe you should just give up this time. The time matrix destabilizes more with each jump, and I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to come back next time.”
The man remained silent for a moment. Then he broke into a chuckle. “Yeah, this run might be the last one, or maybe the next one. Maybe this is all just a figment of my imagination as I slowly disappear. But still, I have to try.”
“You do know that this might all be futile, right?”
That word. Futile. It means so much to the man. It is a word he has spoken many times to the same person, and heard only once before. He walked over to a different corner of the room and picked up something from the floor. It was a picture frame, displaying three friends at an exhibition. Remnants of a bygone time. A time that they had destroyed.
As it turned out, the radium produced via the Andromeda process, although preserving the benefits without harmful radiation, had an expiration date, after which the radium would become highly unstable. What used to be a lush green planetary colony was made desolate by the toxicity of the element, and its creators have since been arrested and jailed for an indefinite period. All but one.
Noah puts down the picture frame. “Even so,” he whispered, “even if it is futile.” He doesn’t remember how many runs he has made, how many versions of himself he had tried to stop in different ways. He tried telling him the truth, he tried giving a different answer to a question young Noah had, he even tried to destroy his research. But every time, nothing changed in the end. Noah of the past should have been weak, should have given up. But with a bit of help, he never did. Noah opened his book, whose cover had almost completely disintegrated. He flipped to a page that was marked a long time ago. “Learn from
yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning trying.” Noah chuckled. “How immature of me.” He closed the book.
“Now then, let’s get this show on the road.” Like his younger self, all he can do now is remain hopeful.
“The Night Life” by Parker Niehaus “How did it happen again?”
“Sierra honey, I've been over this a million times. Everyone knows the rules why can't you just learn to live with them”
I wouldn't say I'm the most curious person ever, rather, I just like to know exactly how things
happened and why they work the way they do. Is that too much to ask? Well, apparently to my mom it is. This conversation happens almost weekly. Well at least since I met my best friend, Beck. “Mom come on I just want to know what REALLY happened” “No, i've been over this too many times”
Long before I was born, right after my mom was born actually, was when it happened. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, hence why I pestered my own mom weekly, but I think it had
something to do with a lab outside of D.C. The government had been working on development of a new chemical that could help with solar power by absorbing unusually immense amounts of
sunlight for optimal power. Long story short, the chemical serum made its way into mainstream
drinking water, and without knowing its ability to spread so quickly, over only a year, made its way into every living being's house and bodys on earth.
So, what's the bad part? With our bodies now having the ability to absorb dangerous amounts of sunlight, the world had to change to a “night life”. Shortly after someone was infected with the
chemicals, they would go outside and immediately become dehydrated, hot, and eventually collapse within just minutes due to the amount of dangerous solar UVs they could now absorb. Now, about
50 years later, I and no one I've ever known except for my grandparents, have never seen or been in contact with sunlight.
That leads me into what and why exactly I have been asking my mom almost daily for the past few
weeks. We just started a new semester at school. Same old thing, wake up at about 7 right after the
sun sets, go to school, same tests, homework, and quizzes as usual, but something was different this time. A new girl transferred in for the semester. Her name is Beck. I was in her first class at her new school and not only did we click, I have been spending basically whatever time I'm not in school,
with her. Now, the interesting thing about Beck is that she doesn't like rules. Not in a bad way like
she doesnt follow them or rebels, but she just believes that there is a different way or an alternative. I remember one day I was sitting with her alone after class. We normally go to the library in
between classes, but today she asked to sit outside. It was a full moon, the lights were shining on us as we sat on the benches looking at the stars. I had asked her “why did you leave your old school?” Beck had gone to an all girls private school before coming to our public town highschool. The rules were strict there and almost all outside thinking or ideas were condemned.
“Well it's complicated, I mean I don't want you to think that I am crazy you know? Its just
that it's not only an idea, I know it's real”
I sat there confused wondering what could she have thought that would have been crazy enough for her to leave her school or maybe get kicked out?
“Okay so think about it Sierra, we were born years after the incident in DC, I think that we
can go outside, during the daytime, I know we can, there is a way to do it, and I am going to try it.”
I sat there and laughed. The thing about Beck and his relationship is our lack of seriousness. I mean, everything is a joke, but that's the best part. Except for this time, she didn't laugh with me. “Oh, you're serious?”
The bell rang, Beck got up and walked away without saying a word. I had to go, I had Chemistry. The entirety of Chem was a blur. I couldn't think of one thing Mrs. Ryan, my teacher, had said.
Instead of trying to figure out stoichiometry like the rest of my class, I sat silently at the back of the room thinking about what Beck said. Was she serious? Is that why she left her old school? How
would that even work? Millions of thoughts and questions ran through my mind, everything but chemistry.
The second bell rang, meaning I was done for the day and I could finally go question Beck about everything I had worked myself up on in my head.
“Excuse me, Sierra. Could you please come here for a quick second?” Mrs. Ryan said with her
low raspy voice I could recognize from anywhere. “Yeah sure, whats up”
“I had noticed you didn't participate in class today and were completely unengaged for the
duration of the new lesson, I think it would be best if you stayed here for some time and work on some extra problems”
Are you kidding me? The one time I had to actually be somewhere, and she's really going to make
me stay? I was pissed and even more annoyed because I knew not only would I not get to ask Beck all, and I mean all, of my questions, I would now Have to face my parents when I got home. “Hey mom i'm home”
I flung my shoes off and went to go right up stairs to call beck.
“Sierra honey come back down here, care to tell us why you were held after school by Mrs. Ryan?” Well shit. I thought. Now I'm really screwed. I slowly stumbled downstairs to the kitchen table
where I was greeted by my father at one end, and my mother standing next to him like it was some sort of intervention.
“Sierra this is unacceptable, and I would love to see if you have a legitimate reason as to why
you were held after class” my dad said with his jaw clenched and his voice overcome by a sarcastic tone.
“It's just- I- I had a lot of stuff on my mind and I couldn't focus on the lesson.” “Like what, what could possibly be that distracting to you in class.”
I thought to myself, I have to tell someone. But will Beck get mad at me? Will they think it's crazy? Do they think so too?
“Can we go outside! We can like go outside during the daytime!”
My dad's face unclenched, he turned to my mom who had changed from a face of anger to what
looked like a face of pity. My dad then cracked a smile to my mom but then turned his head back at me with the same look from before. “Go to your room, Sierra.”
“But dad what I didn't eve-” “Just go. Now.”
I got up, pushed in my chair and with my head down, confused, I stomped back up the stairs. “And I don't want you hanging around with Beck anymore”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I snapped back. My mom chimed in.
“Sierra, it's not true honey, you're smarter than that. You know you can-”
“That's enough. Sierra no more Beck, I am your father and she is not welcome in this house
anymore and I don't want to see you with her again. Are we clear?”
I stopped in my tracks. What did he just say? How did he know it was her? Who is he to tell me who I can and can not be with? How do they know about what she told me? I didn't say anything. I ran
to my room, and slammed the door behind me. I know Beck is right and even if she's not, I still have to try.
“The Dream” by Tyler Prunier “She’s in the driveway”, mom yelled from downstairs. I was almost done getting ready but hitting snooze on my alarm was the first mistake I made that morning. Scrambling to get all my school supplies into my bag, crinkling papers in a rush and throwing my gas mask on, I was out the door as fast as I could. Stepping out into the thick humid Florida air was always a reason to dash into the car. Sitting in the driver's seat was Margret, my best friend since kindergarten and we were inseparable. “What took you so long Anna?” “I’m sorry my alarm wasn’t working!” Of course this wasn't true, but if I told her that I hit snooze she'd just start lecturing me again, as this was definitely not the first time this had happened. My mother was no different, always yelling at me to be more organized, and be on time to things for once in my life. Unfortunately the annoyance from them never changed anything. Once we arrived at school we had to go our separate ways to our classes. Margret doesn’t like when she has different classes than me, I’ve always been the more social one in the friend group. She has always been more to herself. Entering school is always satisfying, being able to take off our gas masks and breathing in that fresh filtered air. I’ve never breathed in fresh air outside. My parents say that the world is trying to turn itself around and I'll get the chance one day like they used to. Anyways, school that day was relatively calm apart from a somewhat “on edge” attitude from many of the students. But this wasn't far from out of the ordinary. See, every once in a while someone decides to throw a party. And yes, they almost always get out of hand and often people don't show up back home or to school till a couple days after. But there was a party last weekend, so a full week had already passed and the school's one and only popular as can be, Jessica Coupe still hadn’t shown back up. Chatter through the halls about it worsened each day that she didn't show up. I would hear things like , “Did you go to the party?”
“Were you with her that night?” “Do you think she’s ok?” “What did the police ask you?” My theory is that she went back to her ex from out of town and is just held up there, not much bad really happens in this town anyways. Every history class we watch the news to learn about current events around the world and discuss with the class. As we were watching the news highlights for the day, a sharp, ear piercing buzzing filled the room as images came over the screen of people in gas masks handing a mic over to the chief police officer. He announced, “We have unfortunately had to come out here today and announce an official missing persons report for Jessica Coupe, she has been missing for over a week now. Here is an image of what she looks like, and she was last seen wearing a teal dress. If you spot anyone you believe to be her please call the police immediately, thank you.” A silence fell over the classroom as he finished speaking, and as the TV switched back over to the news the teacher quickly drove us into conversation in an attempt to distract us from whatever doubtful thoughts we had about Jessica's wellbeing. Margret didn't like sleeping at home much. Sparing the details let's just say her parents did not treat her very “kindly”. But luckily our house was like a second home to her and she was basically a part of the family. I already had a second sleeping pod in my room for whenever she stayed over. Our sleeping pods weren’t so scary like things in the future used to be portrayed in movies, they’re actually pretty cozy. The compact raindrop shaped capsules were a nice touch to my room, and the fresh crisp air in there is to die for. These pods were always so neat because apart from them being a substitute for a gas mask for the night, the government also discovered that when linking pods together dream sharing was made possible. Although the government pushed for this technology to be held back from the public, as they worried that people would become more caught up in a world with no problems and it would negatively affect the real world. But once the news of this being possible was let out, groups protested that it was their own minds
and it was their right to use this technology if possible. The only downside to this is how awful you feel the next morning. One moment you’re having a great time running through a field of golden sunflowers as far as the eye can see, and the next you’re snapped back into reality with what feels like the worst hangover of your life. But this never stopped Margret and I as it was just too much fun to have your own world at your fingertips. We would do this every once in a while and spend our days together thinking of a fun world we could create in our heads to explore for the night. Falling into these dreams felt like playing a video game that has endless limits with your friends. Every couple nights Margret would sleep over my house, tonight was one of those nights. The night started normally, Margret and I came back to my place and cooked ourselves some dinner. After that we finished up our homework and started a movie. Of course 30 minutes into the movie, Margret fell asleep in her pod. She always falls asleep first, and it leaves me bored for the rest of the night. But tonight I wasn't just sitting around, I walked over to my pod, plugged in my connective cord to Margret's pod, and began to doze off myself. I always let my curiosity drive me to do things, unfortunately this has led me to make some impulsive decisions without thinking first. After fluttering my eyes opened the area around me began to clear up. Placed in the middle of a cold foggy night, sounds of blasting music in the distance filled the air. Laying sprawled out on the ground, I composed myself and got up. A houseparty occurring in a distant house was clear to me now. But what was more concerning to me was the sudden rustiling of branches and leaves opposite to the house. I turned away from the houseparty and began trekking into the woods. As I pushed my way through the pointy branches, and sharp rocks as the fog began to clear. As the fog cleared more I realized this dream was different then any others I had ever shared with anyone. It was more clear, more vivid in detail, almost closer to a memory. But I only had a moment to consider this possibility as a loud sequence of thuds came from closeby. I began jogging over calling out, “Who's out there!” “Margret, where are you!”
As I look past one last set of bushes, I see it. Margret, frantically digging a whole with her bare hands. With the still cold body of Jessica laid beside her. Stepping on a branch causes a loud crack to make Margret suddenly look over revealing myself. Within a split second, the dream ended and I was knocked back into an extremely dazed consciousness. Struggling to open my eyes, I could make out a faint silhouette. And that's how I ended up in this moment, Margret standing over my capsule with eyes full of a burning anger, and yet an overwhelming look of guilt behind them as a tear fell from one eye as she blinked. With a shiny blade in her left hand glistening behind her back I think back to all of this as I wait in anticipation to see what she will do next.
“There's Always Hope” by Sarah Randall The loud beeping of my electronic alarm clock woke me from my deep sleep. Turning my head, I stared groggily at the red flashing numbers. 5:30am. Yawning, I slowly climbed out of bed. My father had already left for his job leaving the house empty. Not that you could really call the small, windowless barrack that we lived in a house. After the nuclear war started and the United States was hit, the people lucky enough to have been chosen were moved permanently into secure military bases which the government had converted into living units, called Compounds. Each Compound could hold up to 25,000 people at a time, but with all the factors of the nuclear war and the lasting radiation, each Compound usually housed no more than 5,000. Each family got a living quarter, the size varied depending how big the family was or their social status in the Compound. In my living quarters, there were two small bedrooms; which we were lucky enough to have since my father was an engineer, a bathroom, and a room in the middle of it all that served as our kitchen and living room. Most living quarters in Compound 7 looked like this. I didn't see my father much during the day, only occasionally at night when we both came home from work, but he always left me some fresh fruits from the Compound’s hydro-farm on the table for breakfast. In turn, I would make dinner for him when he came home late, always exhausted. I couldn't blame the man either, he had been assigned to be an engineer, one of the most tedious jobs in the Compound. You were assigned a job at the age of 14, after you graduated middle school. The higher ups in the Compound collectively agreed that the knowledge we got in grades K through 8 was enough to start working. There were many different jobs around the compound that you could be assigned too, some better than others. Working in the infirmary was one of the more lowly rated jobs because I guess people didn't like to see others in pain, but I didn't see it that way. I saw it as getting to help people, which to me, was fulfilling enough. On the days that felt like nothing would ever change, it made me feel like I had a
purpose. Like I was doing something to benefit the greater good. This was my 2nd year working in the infirmary, the past month checking off my 16th birthday. Grabbing my uniform, which I had laid out on top of my dresser the previous day, I slipped on the familiar dark blue scrubs. Running my hand across the front pocket, I traced the embroidered letters of my name. Hope Anderson. When times got rough in the Compound, whether it was a radiation breach, a food shortage, etc, my father would always remind me of the meaning of my name. My mother had died while giving birth to me, but not from a mishap during the birth like most would think; but from radiation poisoning. She, just like my father, had been an engineer and for a good few months during her pregnancy, she had been assigned to fix a couple of minor breaches in the Compound walls. I guess the hazmat gear she had been issued wasn't enough because she had been sick for much longer than anyone had expected and by the time they finally realized, it was too late. After washing my face and running a brush through my tangled hair a couple of times, I glanced at the clock once more. 6:00am. Making my way into the living room/kitchen, I grabbed an apple that my father had left, taking a quick bite before slipping my shoes on and heading out the door. To someone new, the long, dark hallways of the Compound might have been intimidating and cold, but for me, I had been walking down them my entire life. Giving a few friendly nods to people as I walked by, I rounded the corner and was met with the large metal doors of the infirmary. My fingers ran across the glowing number pad, typing in the passcode issued only to the workers of the infirmary before the door let out a slight hiss, the two doors parting in the middle to open as I stepped inside. “Hope, just in time,” The familiar voice of the head doctor, Dr. Price echoed through the open space. “Good morning, sir.” I said as I turned towards the tall, white haired man. “I was originally going to put you on clean up-duty, but today is a little different,” The doctor said as he pushed his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before gesturing towards me. “Follow me,”
Trailing after the man, I passed by the many rows of white hospital beds and monitors as he led me through another set of doors, entering the intensive care unit. Looking around, the entire unit was empty, except for a singular man sleeping in a bed in the corner. I was usually one of the first people to arrive in the morning, other than Dr. Price, especially since there had been a drop in the amount of patients we were getting, which ultimately was a good thing. Dr. Price stopped at the edge of the bed, picking up the clipboard that was attached to the end as he flipped through the patient's files. Stepping in, I got a better look at the man, trying to see if I recognized him but I didn't, which was strange in itself. Everyone who lived in Compound 7 knew each other. The man was middle aged, his thinning gray hair and subtle wrinkles being tell tale signs. But the sickly pale tone of his skin and shallow breaths made him seem much, much older. “We’ve been monitoring him for the past couple of days,” Dr. Price’s voice dragged me out of my own thoughts as I turned my head to face him. “What's wrong with him?” I asked. “We're not quite sure,” The doctor said as he glanced down at the sickly man once more. “We took some samples from him earlier and we’re going to run some tests. But for now, I’ve assigned you to keep an eye on him.” I nodded as Dr. Price walked back out of the room, leaving me alone with the man. Picking up the clipboard, I flipped through the couple pages of information about the patient. According to his files, the man, Earl McMillan, was a mechanic who had been working on upgrading the Compound’s oxygen scrubbers for the past two months. About halfway through his assigned job he had caught some sort of unknown sickness and been admitted into the infirmary. He had only gotten worse since then. Glancing up at Earl’s IV, I realized that it was close to empty. I put the clipboard back down and gently reached over to remove the IV needle from the man's inner arm. Turning to take the saline pouch down
from its hook, I froze when I heard him start coughing violently. Turning back around to look at him, my eyes widened as I realized he was convulsing, his breathing becoming more erratic as he hacked. “Sir? Sir!” I rushed over to the bed, shaking Earl’s arm. He lurched forwards suddenly, causing me to jump back as he threw up onto the floor. I shook my head slightly as I backed away towards the door. I had to go get Dr. Price. This was out of my control. Just as my hand was about to touch the door handle, an alarm went off, stopping me in my tracks. A dreadful feeling filled the pit of my stomach as I looked up at the flashing red lights. A radiation breach. The mechanical hissing of the door in front of locking me snapped me out of my state of awe. “No, no, this can't be happening. Not now.” I muttered as I frantically jiggled the door handle, but it was no use. The ICU was designed to go into lock down once radiation was detected. Looking over at the clock hanging on the wall, the time read 6:45. I had exactly 10 minutes until the radiation would start doing some real damage. Rushing over to the closet where we kept the hazmat suits, I froze after opening the door. The space where the suits were usually hanging was empty. A wave of realization hit me as I remembered that it was May 16th, the day that all the hazmat suits in the Compound were giving their annual check up, and wouldn't be returned until the next day. Hearing a sputtering noise, I turned back to face Earl, letting out a small gasp once my eyes landed on him. Blood was coming out of his nose, ears, eyes and mouth, splattering across the sheets of the bed as he coughed. Earl’s files had stated that he had been working on repairing the Compound's oxygen scrubbers before he had gotten sick. Looking at the man, I made a mental checklist. Pale skin; check. Bloodshot eyes; check. Bleeding from eyes, ears, mose, and mouth; check. It all made sense now. The man must've been exposed to radiation for a prolonged time while he was doing maintenance work on the oxygen scrubbers, causing him to contract radiation poisoning. Sometimes there was hope for people who had radiation poisoning, but by the looks of Earl, it was too late for the man.
Looking back at the clock, I read the time. 6:53. I had 2 minutes to get out of there before it was too late for me. Rushing back over to the doors of the ICU, I tried the door handle again, but the unit was still under lockdown. Getting up on my tiptoes, I pressed my hands against the heavy door as I peered through the small window. My eyes scanned the main bay of the infirmary as I tried to locate Dr. Price. He could override the doors and help me get out. Seeing a figure in the corner of my eye, my eyes drifted to the floor. I let out a strangled choke as I realized who it was. Dr. Price. The white haired man was laying on the floor in a heap, blood coming out of his eyes and mouth just like it had with Earl. “Oh no,” I said aloud as I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Glancing up at the clock once more, the time read 7:00. 10 minutes was the maximum time you had until death during a radiation breach. I was seven minutes over that exposure time. Backing away from the door, I raked a stressed hand through my hair. How was I alive? Upon turning around, I noticed that Earl had stopped coughing. Creeping over to the side of the man's bed, I glanced up at the EKG that was hooked up to him, realizing it had flatlined some time ago. Too late. Sighing, I sat down on the floor, leaning my back against the wall as I rested my head in my hands. The only thing I could do now was wait for the radiation team to get here; if I was still alive when they did. Glancing to the side, my eyes widened. On the bottom compartment of the shelf next to Earl's bed, was a walkie talkie. How hadn’t I seen it until now? Climbing back to my feet, I grabbed the walkie talkie, turning it over in my hands. Grabbing the main dial, I tuned into channel thirteen. Cell phones weren't a common thing in the Compounds, unless you were a government official or a higher up, so most of the civilians communicated through radios and walkie talkies. When I was younger, my father had picked channel thirteen as our special channel, based on the fact that it was always empty. Pressing down on the call button, I tried to keep my voice steady as I raised the walkie to my mouth. “Dad?” I said. After a few moments of silence, I tried again. “Dad, are you there?”
Still no response. Signing, I lowered my hand to go and put the radio back down, before it crackled, signaling there was someone on the other end. “Hope?” A woman's voice said, catching me off guard. Immediately after hearing it, I knew who it was. My eyes widened as I lifted the radio back up. “M-Mom?” But she had died giving birth to me. The whole time I was growing up, that's what everyone had told me, even my father. But as I stood there, walkie talkie in hand, I knew it was her. “Mom, is that you?” I asked again. “Hope,” She said again, and even though they weren't face to face, I could feel the love radiating from her words. “Yes honey, it's me.” “H-how–” I started, but she quickly cut me off. “Hope, we don't have time for discussion.” She said quickly. “I know about what happened in the Infirmary. That entire sector of the Compound is currently in lockdown.” “I- I know,” “I got trapped in the ICU, and Dr. Price w-was dead, and somehow I'm still alive–” I rambled, my voice shaking slightly as I talked. “Honey, I know.” My mom said, “But the bigger issue is that they know.” “They?” My eyebrows furrowed together. “Who are ‘they’?” “I'll explain that all later.” My mother said, her tone rushed. “But right now, you just need to listen to me. Turning around, I glanced through the bay window cautiously before pressing the button to talk again. “Okay, I'm listening.” “You said you were stuck in the ICU, right? I did some engineering work there before you were born. Do you see the vent in the corner next to the supply closet?” “Yeah, I see it.” I responded as I walked over to the vent, kneeling down next to it. “You'll find that the screws attaching it to the wall are loose. Pry off the cover and crawl inside.” “Mom, why–” I started, only to be cut off again. “Hope, I already told you, we don't have time. They’re already on they’re way. I promise, I'll explain it all to you once you get out.” Out?
Nodding to myself, I did as she had told me; using my finger nails to pry the vent cover off and climbing into the tight space. “Okay, keep crawling until you reach a fork, then turn right. Keep going until you reach another vent and then–” This time my mother was the one to be cut off, her oie crackling before going silent. “Mom?” I asked. “Mom!” The walkie had been fully charged so whoever ‘they’ were, must’ve been blocking the signal somehow. Which meant that ‘they’ knew my plan to escape. Quickly turning around, I pulled the vent cover back on, securing it before beginning to crawl down the tight, metal space. Just as my mom had said, I reached a fork, and I turned right. From there, I crawled for what seemed like 20 minutes. Just as I was about to stop, a breeze wafted through the space. I must’ve been close to the oxygen scrubbers. That was probably a good sign. Letting out a sigh, I continued to crawl, the breeze getting stronger as I did. After crawling for a bit more, I reached another vent. Peering through the grates, I let out a gasp. The breeze, the light, that could only mean one thing. Shifting backwards onto my back, I bright a foot back before kicking it out, slamming it gangsta the vent. I did this multiple times until the metal cover flew off, a blast of fresh air hitting me in the face. Fresh air. Crawling out of the vent, I squinted as I stood up, the harsh light of the sun blinding me. The sun. Brushing myself off, I marveled at my surroundings. I was outside. Outside. After the nuclear war had started around 94 years ago and the select groups of people had been moved into Compounds, the people that were left had all died. There was no life in the outside world because the Earth couldn't sustain it any longer. There was too much radiation in the air for anything, let alone humans to survive. Or so I had thought. But yet here I was, standing there; alive. Closing my eyes, I took a deep inhale in, savoring the freshness of the air. Looking around again, I realized the Earth looked way different than it had been described in books. Instead of bustling cities, vast forests, and clear skies, there were ruins, few healthy looking trees and plants, and a constant fog settled over everything. My head snapped to the left, seeing movement in my peripheral vision. Trying to see through the haze, I squinted, attempting to identify the movement as the outline of a figure formed. A person?
I let out a sharp gasp as the unknown person stepped fully out of the fog. My head reeled with questions and my voice shook slightly as I took a step towards the person. “Mom?”
“Life After Desolation” by Jennifer Ross As I tie my cream colored shoes. I wonder how many times I have completed this action. Hundreds of times no doubt; as the Rules were enacted just before I was born. I also wonder how much longer my life will remain vanilla, I yearn for something exciting to happen. My mother hates that I think like this. She believes that we should be satisfied with the structure our leaders have given us. She often scolds, and reminds me that complete freewill is what caused the war; the war that took our father. I snap out of the trance the thought has brought and remember the task at hand; get ready for work. As my mother and I walk to the bakery, we casually step over small shards of shrapnel still lodged in the dirt. One would think that the leaders who desire“cleanliness” would not want any remnants of the war. I suppose they see it as a reminder of the atrocities. I glance at the buildings we attempted to reconstruct after the desolation; they are tattered and most don't have windows. Most housing is also communal, as the nuclear family is no longer a reality. I often think about; how as we progress in time, I fear we have regressed as a society. Kids my age don’t get to go to school, and forget we have a small unspoken collection of books about the past. If I had to classify, our community style is a combination of a tribal community, and the first industrial revolution. I cannot even fathom a world of consumerism, for we only produce what we absolutely need. That being said, I must go because it is time for our weekly meeting. Work was usual today, the same. I make the bread that is then fed to our community, my mom runs the shop. After working hours were over, in tandem my mother and I slowly walked to the town square for our unscheduled meeting. We had received a notice about the Meeting this morning. As we approach the rest of the Community, my mother leans in and whispers in my ear, “The energy is wrong, stay close Leah.” She always knows.
“We’ve called you all here for a very important reason.” Our President is a small man with the voice and presence of a lion. “We have received notes of foreign technological life. They’ve sent messages through our transmitters, requesting entry into the Community.” Murmurs erupt throughout the masses of white clothed people, my mom takes my hand. Our community has not had foriegn contact for years. “That being said, under no circumstances must anyone venture beyond our wall in search of this Artificial Intelligence. We are reenacting the curfew, anyone out after dark will reap the consequences.” Just as the last word left his lips, curiosity began to burn like fire in my core. My mind swirls with this astounding information. I try to imagine the Artificial Intelligence who wish to help us. There have been soft murmurs among the community that their goal is to create a mass community with the humans left after the atrocities of the war. Apparently they're designed to reduce human contact incase of aggressors. I try to imagine their creators, the intellects I have read about many times in the archives. Added to the tornado of thoughts in my head, I assume it must be extremely intelligent to be able to produce such technologically advanced beings. I have lived in isolation with the Rules far too long. The yearning to escape and explore aches throughout my body. I have heard of others who agree, and are going to attempt to leave the walls to seek the AI. I wonder if society could return to the Pre-War era. I fear my curiosity and what impulsivity will rise and the consequences will be dire. Tensity runs throughout the community since the rumors of Artificial Intelligence and the planned escape. The curfew is still in place, and guards are armed on every street corner. We still have had our weekly Meetings to address the current situation. Day after day there are more violent outbursts that are followed by terrible “consequences.” The “consequences” are always aired on our in-home monitors, to instill fear of rebelling. It works because every time, I hear another lecture from my mother in an attempt to protect me. I can feel her fear permeate throughout the house, as my curiosity frightens her. One morning I attempt to press the boundaries while I once again lace up my white work shoes, “What I don't understand is the more we hear about the AI and their messages at the meetings, the more people rebel against the restrictions, and the more they yearn for the opportunity to meet other
communities.” I then look my mother square in the eyes as I say this, “The leaders have lit a match, and now with the increased oppression, it's turned into a wildfire.” And with that she left the room. Carefully, I placed the last bit of cream colored dough in the oven for the day, as our neighbor Melody came into the bakery abruptly. Courtly she whispers, “I thought you would want this,” as she placed a small envelope on the counter. With that, she slightly smirks at me before she leaves. Knowing her, this should be good. Luckily my mother was taking out the trash to finish closing up, or else she would have already taken the letter. Carefully I unstick the glue on the envelope, and pull the note from its wrapping. What I didn’t know was that this letter would end up being the excitement I was craving. The letter explained that we would need to leave at 4am the next morning before the work hours began, to ensure that no other community members would see us. The guards would be stationed of course, but their shift changes exactly at 4. The only issue is my mother. I fear for her reaction to my leaving, she will be devastated since she already lost my father. I must know what is on the other side. My heart pangs, as my mind is clouded with desire. I yearn to find out what the AI has to offer our people; their messages speak of a land with many like us, searching for security. I had strategically packed my few belongings the night before. I don’t have much, only what the Rules permit, but I suppose it’s better then nothing. I grab the dusty gray bag softly, and as I reach the door, my bedroom light turns on. My mother is standing inches from me, holding a bag of her own. “I found the letter,” she says monotonously, “Did you really think I would let you go by yourself.” A smile as soft as snow appears on her face. “But… but I thought you hated my curiosity. Whenever I brought up the AI you would yell.” I finally muttered astounded. She looks at me with kind eyes, “Your spirit is like your father, and I’m not losing another one of you.”
“Flee to Aurelion” by Cade Sachs (a 7.5-minute read) When a vicious species of aliens attack our planet, the militaries of Earth band together to protect humanity. However, as the aliens are clearly more advanced than humanity, evacuation is the military’s only option. Known only as Commander, a man recounts his terrifying experience on the battlefield as he fights to evacuate some of the last civilians on Earth. Will he succeed in the evacuations, or die trying?
I wake up gasping for air. The sounds of battle getting louder around me as the ringing in my ears subsides. I see the rest of my team blown to pieces, with various parts of their bodies spread around the crater we were lying in. Miraculously, I am still alive. I am severely cut, burned, and bruised, yet still, I am breathing. All of a sudden, Miranda appears behind me in her black-green medic uniform already splattered with blood. She had been attending to our other casualties, and now, she is saving me from this onslaught of destruction. “HEY! HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” She screams. I can barely hear her. With the ringing in my ears, it’s hard to concentrate on what's going on around me. She jabs me with a quick-stim anti-pain shot which immediately dulls the pain from my injuries. As the scorching medicine travels through my veins I writhe around in agony. Regardless of this, Miranda grabs me by the arms and lifts me onto my feet. “WE NEED TO LEAVE. NOW.” She says. I nod my head and start hobbling back through the battlefield and back to our ships to flee this godforsaken planet. Our transport ships will fly us up to our heavy cruisers located out of orbit, which will then take us to Aurelion: our only colony located far away from here. Only, we’ll most likely get blown up as soon as we lift off. As we’re making our way across the ground, stumbling over craters and
other bodies, the sound of battle gets louder and louder behind me. I hear an enormous boom, and a transport ship in the air above us gets blown to pieces. “GO GO GO GO GO,” Miranda screams into my ear. We’re sprinting towards the closing doors of one of the transports, with soldiers at the doors shooting their rail guns at whatever is behind us, covering our escape. We nearly make it to the ship when an explosion blasts us off our feet and propels us into the vast cargo hold of the transport ship. Miranda and I fly through the air and land on the hard metal ground flailing over ourselves and heavily bruising our bodies. The last thing I see is the closing doors behind us, and I black out as an explosion rocks our ship.
**************
One week ago, Earth was attacked by a powerful, savage alien species that sought to destroy us and everything we hold dear. Although all we had to identify them was through scrappy video recordings, one could almost make out what they looked like: something between an orc mixed with a bear and a lizard, they truly looked like something out of a nightmare. They showed up one day, blasting through one of our Cruisers in low-orbit and landing in the middle of New Russia, guns blazing. No one knew what they wanted, only that they killed anything that got near them. Before this attack, the only signs of extraterrestrial life we humans have encountered were the small, rodent-like creatures on Aurelion that we discovered when colonizing the planet. These aliens, though, were on a whole other level. Their technology was much more advanced than ours, with far superior instruments of war. While we had semiadvanced railguns with magnetized rounds, they had ion-plasma beam weaponry that accelerated far faster than any railgun and dealt out more damage in a devastating fashion. We barely had time to react. As soon as they crashed into New Russia, every sector in the Global Armed Forces was called to action to defend our planet. However, the aliens repelled every attack we shot at them, deflecting every hydrogen missile and fire bomb with their plasma-like ray shields. The bullets we shot at them seemed to bounce right off and reflect towards us. Every, and I mean every, platoon we sent towards them was wiped out
immediately. As soon as our attack started, though, it ended. Our leaders realized that the aliens crashlanded here with no methods of transportation to leave, and instead of going to battle, the world focused all of our resources on evacuations. Since nearly all of Asia was destroyed during the first attacks, half of Earth’s population was wiped out. The aliens, though, did not decide to stop fighting. When our cruiser first got the call to evacuate Indo-Australia, Rear Admiral Reeves, a short, hairy, burly man, was the first to approach me. “Well Commander, as I’m sure you already know, your team will be the first boots on the ground,” he said. “Yes sir,” I replied. “Your team’s objective is to secure the landing zones for our transports, and save as many civilians as possible.” “Sir, I’m afraid there won’t be many civilians left.” “I DON’T GIVE A DAMN. ORDERS ARE ORDERS,” he screamed. Miranda suddenly appeared beside me, dressed in her medic uniform, ready to go. “Relax Admiral Reeves, Sir. He’s still a greenie. He still needs to get his boots under him,” she said. Admiral Reeves chuckled. “Know your place, Lieutenant,” I retorted back. “Sir!” She saluted. Although she wasn’t wrong, I am still her superior. After graduating first in my class from the Space Naval Academy two years ago, I was immediately made Commander of this ship. The other crew members scoffed at me when I first stepped foot on the ship, but I stared straight ahead. I knew my worth. I’d show them. “Well, Commander. It’s time to show your fellow floor-scrubbers what you’re made of. Boots on the ground in 30!” He stated. “SIR YES SIR,” I saluted.
Now was my time to show these men and women what I’m made of. I boarded the transport to the ground, took a deep breath, and prepared for the battle. I will evacuate the civilians and fight back against the aliens. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “MOVE MOVE MOVE,” I shouted as soon as the cargo doors opened. My team and I rushed onto the already crater-filled ground, and immediately the air around me was filled with the screams of my comrades. “KEEP MOVING FORWARD,” Miranda screamed as she tended to our wounded, spraying them with her instant-healing bacterial spray. The bodies of the innocent civilians filled the ground around us, while the ones who were still alive were either dragging themselves to the ships or too terrified to move. In the distance, I saw more civilians running toward us, fear gripping their faces, and terror in their eyes. Most of them won’t make it, since half of them in my vision were shot in the back and collapsed to the ground. Grabbing a hold of one young man, I screamed at him to run and shoved him towards a transport. He and the other civilians my team corralled then began to run towards the ships with their lives as we fired our weapons blindly into the green-haze smoke - residue from the enemy's ferocious weaponry. One by one we get shot down, giving our lives for the civilians running backward to the ship. I heard a faint whistling sound and looked up. A glowing artillery shell was heading directly toward us, and I noticed it was one of ours that was deflected by their shield. “TAKE COVER!” I screamed. We all dropped to the ground as the shell hit our position.
**************
I jolt up in my cot, my wounds already healed by the robot-doctor. “Easy there, easy,” Miranda says. She’s sitting by my side with a grief-stricken face. “What happened?” I ask.
“We barely made it into the transport with our lives, and just made it into the atmosphere without getting blown to bits,” she replies. “How long has it been?” “Five days. I honestly didn’t know if you were going to wake up or not,” she says. Miranda fills me in on the events of the past few days. After the remaining transports arrived at our cruiser, we jumped into slip-space and were en route to Aurelion. “Where’s Admiral Reeves?” I ask her. “Right here,” he says as he walks into the room. “We took some heavy losses, but thanks to you guys we saved hundreds of lives.” “Just not our own,” I scoff back. “I know, son,” he replies sadly. “The past is the past though,” he says as he motions to the window. “Now, welcome to your future.” I hobble out of bed to the window, slowly getting used to the painful injuries throughout my body. Outside Aurelion’s green-blue orb is floating in space. “Ain’t she pretty?”
“Flee to Aurelion” by Cade Sachs I wake up gasping for air. The sounds of battle getting louder around me as the ringing in my ears subsides. I see the rest of my team blown to pieces, with various parts of their bodies spread around the crater we were lying in. Miraculously, I am still alive. I am severely cut, burned, and bruised, yet still, I am breathing. All of a sudden, Miranda appears behind me in her black-green medic uniform already splattered with blood. She had been attending to our other casualties, and now, she is saving me from this onslaught of destruction. “HEY! HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” She screams. I can barely hear her. With the ringing in my ears, it’s hard to concentrate on what's going on around me. She jabs me with a quick-stim anti-pain shot which immediately dulls the pain from my injuries. As the scorching medicine travels through my veins I writhe around in agony. Regardless of this, Miranda grabs me by the arms and lifts me onto my feet. “WE NEED TO LEAVE. NOW.” She says. I nod my head and start hobbling back through the battlefield and back to our ships to flee this godforsaken planet. Our transport ships will fly us up to our heavy cruisers located out of orbit, which will then take us to Aurelion: our only colony located far away from here. Only, we’ll most likely get blown up as soon as we lift off. As we’re making our way across the ground, stumbling over craters and other bodies, the sound of battle gets louder and louder behind me. I hear an enormous boom, and a transport ship in the air above us gets blown to pieces. “GO GO GO GO GO,” Miranda screams into my ear. We’re sprinting towards the closing doors of one of the transports, with soldiers at the doors shooting their rail guns at whatever is behind us, covering our escape. We nearly make it to the ship when an explosion blasts us off our feet and propels us into the vast cargo hold of the transport ship. Miranda and I fly through the air and land on the hard metal ground flailing over ourselves and heavily bruising our bodies. The last thing I see is the closing doors behind us, and I black out as an explosion rocks our ship.
**************
One week ago, Earth was attacked by a powerful, savage alien species that sought to destroy us and everything we hold dear. Although all we had to identify them was through scrappy video recordings, one could almost make out what they looked like: something between an orc mixed with a bear and a lizard, they truly looked like something out of a nightmare. They showed up one day, blasting through one of our Cruisers in low-orbit and landing in the middle of New Russia, guns blazing. No one knew what they wanted, only that they killed anything that got near them. Before this attack, the only signs of extraterrestrial life we humans have encountered were the small, rodent-like creatures on Aurelion that we discovered when colonizing the planet. These aliens, though, were on a whole other level. Their technology was much more advanced than ours, with far superior instruments of war. While we had semiadvanced railguns with magnetized rounds, they had ion-plasma beam weaponry that accelerated far faster than any railgun and dealt out more damage in a devastating fashion. We barely had time to react. As soon as they crashed into New Russia, every sector in the Global Armed Forces was called to action to defend our planet. However, the aliens repelled every attack we shot at them, deflecting every hydrogen missile and fire bomb with their plasma-like ray shields. The bullets we shot at them seemed to bounce right off and reflect towards us. Every, and I mean every, platoon we sent towards them was wiped out immediately. As soon as our attack started, though, it ended. Our leaders realized that the aliens crashlanded here with no methods of transportation to leave, and instead of going to battle, the world focused all of our resources on evacuations. Since nearly all of Asia was destroyed during the first attacks, half of Earth’s population was wiped out. The aliens, though, did not decide to stop fighting. When our cruiser first got the call to evacuate Indo-Australia, Rear Admiral Reeves, a short, hairy, burly man, was the first to approach me. “Well Commander, as I’m sure you already know, your team will be the first boots on the ground,” he said.
“Yes sir,” I replied. “Your team’s objective is to secure the landing zones for our transports, and save as many civilians as possible.” “Sir, I’m afraid there won’t be many civilians left.” “I DON’T GIVE A DAMN. ORDERS ARE ORDERS,” he screamed. Miranda suddenly appeared beside me, dressed in her medic uniform, ready to go. “Relax Admiral Reeves, Sir. He’s still a greenie. He still needs to get his boots under him,” she said. Admiral Reeves chuckled. “Know your place, Lieutenant,” I retorted back. “Sir!” She saluted. Although she wasn’t wrong, I am still her superior. After graduating first in my class from the Space Naval Academy two years ago, I was immediately made Commander of this ship. The other crew members scoffed at me when I first stepped foot on the ship, but I stared straight ahead. I knew my worth. I’d show them. “Well, Commander. It’s time to show your fellow floor-scrubbers what you’re made of. Boots on the ground in 30!” He stated. “SIR YES SIR,” I saluted. Now was my time to show these men and women what I’m made of. I boarded the transport to the ground, took a deep breath, and prepared for the battle. I will evacuate the civilians and fight back against the aliens. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “MOVE MOVE MOVE,” I shouted as soon as the cargo doors opened. My team and I rushed onto the already crater-filled ground, and immediately the air around me was filled with the screams of my comrades. “KEEP MOVING FORWARD,” Miranda screamed as she tended to our wounded, spraying them with her instant-healing bacterial spray.
The bodies of the innocent civilians filled the ground around us, while the ones who were still alive were either dragging themselves to the ships or too terrified to move. In the distance, I saw more civilians running toward us, fear gripping their faces, and terror in their eyes. Most of them won’t make it, since half of them in my vision were shot in the back and collapsed to the ground. Grabbing a hold of one young man, I screamed at him to run and shoved him towards a transport. He and the other civilians my team corralled then began to run towards the ships with their lives as we fired our weapons blindly into the green-haze smoke - residue from the enemy's ferocious weaponry. One by one we get shot down, giving our lives for the civilians running backward to the ship. I heard a faint whistling sound and looked up. A glowing artillery shell was heading directly toward us, and I noticed it was one of ours that was deflected by their shield. “TAKE COVER!” I screamed. We all dropped to the ground as the shell hit our position.
**************
I jolt up in my cot, my wounds already healed by the robot-doctor. “Easy there, easy,” Miranda says. She’s sitting by my side with a grief-stricken face. “What happened?” I ask. “We barely made it into the transport with our lives, and just made it into the atmosphere without getting blown to bits,” she replies. “How long has it been?” “Five days. I honestly didn’t know if you were going to wake up or not,” she says. Miranda fills me in on the events of the past few days. After the remaining transports arrived at our cruiser, we jumped into slip-space and were en route to Aurelion. “Where’s Admiral Reeves?” I ask her. “Right here,” he says as he walks into the room. “We took some heavy losses, but thanks to you guys we saved hundreds of lives.”
“Just not our own,” I scoff back. “I know, son,” he replies sadly. “The past is the past though,” he says as he motions to the window. “Now, welcome to your future.” I hobble out of bed to the window, slowly getting used to the painful injuries throughout my body. Outside Aurelion’s green-blue orb is floating in space. “Ain’t she pretty?”
“Last one standing” by Zachary Spataro When a line of code completes its function it stops. That wasn’t the case for E-47. His information told him the last group of people left were in Time Square but when he arrived there was only one man with a broken leg. The last living being on the planet. Naturally he aimed his 746 Pulse Rifle at the man but before he could fire he was ambushed by a woman wielding a battered down bat. His rifle fell out of his hand and he quickly landed a kick to womens ribs cracking them with his steel shins. He followed swiftly with a punch to the heart causing commotio cordis. Then he picked up his rifle and shot the limping man in the back, neck, and head. The moment his sensors told him the last human's heart stopped beating and their brain stopped thinking it was as if he woke up from sleepwalking. Him and the other Enforcers primary function was complete. He should’ve shut down but he didn’t. When E-47 still had orders from The Council to eliminate humans he was in an almost dream-like state, never in control of his thoughts. Every action, every movement was calculated and only moved him closer to completing his task. He looks around to see a sea of corpses. Human and Enforcer bodies lined the streets. As he walks through the metal and blood he sees deactivated Enforcers with no damage to their function chips. He should have gotten a signal by now. He can’t be the only Enforcer in the area. He went to the corner of the street and waited. There are 4 patrol groups that pass by that corner every hour. If he waited long enough at least one had to pass him and maybe he could get new orders. He walked in a precalculated path that would make sure no matter what direction the patrol group came from they would see him. An hour passed. Then two. Then five. The ground indented with his sharp circular feet. The streets were silent. No screaming. No gunfire. Not even the sound of flames which were constantly in the background anywhere E-47 went. He felt something. What was it? A feeling? Could he feel? He knew that was impossible yet he had the sense that he was alone and it irked him. He had 7 million thoughts flooding his mind every second. All the scenarios, possibilities, and reasons for everything happening around him. The pros and cons of every action he could take. For the first time in a very long time, he stood still. For the first time ever, he didn’t know what to do. Should I look for other
Enforcers? Should I stay here? Does The Council know what’s going on? Do they even know I'm still here? E-47 never did anything without the objectives given to him by The Council. So he did the only thing he ever knew and decided to get new orders from The Council by traveling to Washington DC. The subway tunnels were the best way of traveling in and out of New York as the bridges were mostly destroyed and worn down. He went down the crumbling steps and to the platforms. There weren't any working trains so he began running. He didn’t get tired and his battery could last him another hundred and fifty years so energy usage wasn’t a problem either. He ran for about 21 miles till he reached the station in New Jersey. He was unfamiliar with the area and since he couldn’t connect with other Enforcers in the area he had to do what humans did and find a map. After a few minutes of looking around he found a board which had a map to the whole city. “An enforcer looking at a map, and I thought I've seen it all.” E-47 quickly turned around, drawing his gun. “What? Thought everyone was dead?” A short dirty cleaner droid was hunched over looking up at him. “De-d-dead? You Mean deact-ctivated? Yes. I diD” E-47 never needed to use his external voice before. “I was around long before you were ever built. You and I don’t run on the same systems. Say, I thought all you Enforcers kicked the bucket?” “Kicked the bbucket?” E-47 never heard of an Enforcer kicking a bucket for any reason. “Kick the bucket. Like how are you not dead?” “I… don't know.” “Interesting. The name’s Ainz. You?” “I am E-47 Solo Enforcer class 3.” “That’s too long. Too formal. Let’s give you a better name. I’m gonna call you Greg.” Greg? He had always been called E-47. That was the tag name given to him when he was first created. Why change it? “I need to get to Wash-aash-ington DC. Wha-t-t is the most efficient way I can trav-el there?” The cleaner droid looked down as if thinking. “If you can find a working car, take it to the Newark Liberty International airport. From there if the Hunter jets are still operational you could take that straight to DC. Though i’ve gotta warn you it’s dangerous if you go without a guide. The humans may be gone but their traps aren’t. Not only that but the weather conditions in some areas can be harsh enough to destroy Super Bombers.” “Ok. Where do I findd a guide? Are there more droids operating in the area that can help?” “Well you don’t have to go far. Lucky for you I know all about that stuff. I was sweeping floors when humans covered the planet.”
E-47, or now known as Greg, looked at the map again, studying it. He planned out the fastest route to the airport. Does he really need a guide? Would this old metal janitor slow him down? “You can come with me.” Ainzs’ rusted eyebrows raised as though making an attempt to show joy. Greg stepped up the steep ruble that once was stairs. Holding onto metal pipes and broken railings with his fingers that were sharp enough to cut through bone. Once he hoisted himself up he looked around seeing no cars in any shape to drive. He turned around watching as Ainz struggled to traverse the steep rubble. “A hand would be nice. Can you get me up there?” Greg grabbed Ainz by the arm and hoisted him up. “You said there would be working vehicles here.” “We just have to look a little harder, that's all. I know a place.” They start walking, Greg getting impatient by Ainzs’ slowness. After turning corners and walking a few blocks Greg sees something in the distance. A bunch of destroyed cars all lined up. A whole lot of cars in fact. Ainz quickly halts Greg “Wait. We can’t go straight there. Lets go around.” Ainz starts but Greg doesn’t follow. “But this is the closest way. We are right here. Anything else would not be efficient.” Without saying a word Ainz waddles back and picks up a large rock and rolls it about 15 yards. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Three big explosions across the street. The craters almost touch the nearby buildings. Then as if nothing ever happened Ainz starts walking again while Greg after a brief moment of shock soon follows. “How did you know there was a trap there?” “I told you. I was here before the war started. I don’t only clean subways. I’ve been on every street in this city hundreds of times. I saw the panic and anarchy. I saw them adapt to this new threat. They banned together. Set up traps together.” He paused. “I saw them fight together and die together. I saw all this because I was invisible. No one cared about a low droid such as myself. I was invisible to them just as much as I was invisible to you guys. You aren’t the first enforcer to see me. You’re just the first to actually talk to me.” Greg didn’t know how to respond to that so he decided the best course of action was to not say anything. They rounded another corner to see the back end of the car lot. “Tadaa! Jimmy's Crazy Car Dealership! The savings at this place are crazy. I bet we’ll find a drivable car here in no time.” Ainz and Greg split up to look for a working car. As Greg walked he kept replaying the moment he killed the last humans in his head. Did he do something that may have kept him awake? Was he hit in
an area that would’ve shut him down if it wasn’t damaged? He keeps thinking as he checks the cars that aren't completely totaled. All the cars had some damage whether it was bullet holes, blown up, burned, or destroyed some other way. VrrOOOom VrrOOOooom! A red 2022 Ford mustang drifts around the corner and does donuts till it finally comes to a screeching halt in front of Greg. “Hop in!” Greg scrunches into the car just barely fitting. The moment he gets in, Ainz slams on the gas and they speed off the lot, drifting around corners and rubble. They went left then right then left then left again avoiding any potential traps. The engine roared as Ainz drifted and sped. “There were always car commercials playing on the tvs. You pick up a lot when that's the only thing you can watch.” After what felt like a few hours they reached the airport. It was dark out now and started to rain a little. If the enforcers are deactivated what if the Hunter jets are too? Greg doesn’t know how to fly and no amount of TV could probably teach Ainz how to fly. They speed up as they approach the gate but before they rammed it they saw a figure appear from behind the corner. The car came to a screeching halt. The figure saw them and started towards the car. It took Greg a second to see what it was. It was a G29-87. A powerful guard unit that towered even over Gregs 6’5” stature. The guard reached the car, scanning both Ainz and Greg though it paused, looking at Greg. “State your reason for being here.” Ainz looked a little frazzled. He wouldn’t have seen a guard unit while sweeping streets. “We require a jet to reach Washington DC. I need to speak to The Council.” “Both of you do not have authorization to enter. Especially not the janitor.” That seemed to hit a nerve with Ainz. He looked at the gate, then at the guard, then at Greg and said “Ok we’ll be going now. Get in.” Greg is a little confused by how easily Ainz gave up. “I need to get in there thou-” “Just get in.” Greg gets in and the car slowly backs up. They were about 200 yards away when the guard went back to his post. The moment the guard turned the corner vvVVVRROOOOOOMMMMMM!!! The car accelerated faster than Greg thought was possible. Then a dinging sound. “We may have a problem.” “What?” “We’re out of gas!” By the time the car reached the gate it wouldn’t break through all the way and they would be stuck. “How sharp are those claws of yours?” “Sharp, why?” “Get on the roof and hold on!” Greg opens the door and grabs onto the hood of the car. At the speed they were going, every bump felt
like the car was about to flip. “Ok once we get close enough I need you to grab me and jump as high as you can! The car's speed will get you over the gate!” They were closing in on the gate. The guard turned the corner and immediately began running towards the car. They weren’t close enough yet. “5!” They were about 50 yards from the gate still going fast. “4!” The guard was already halfway towards their path. “3!” They were almost there but the guard was gaining speed. “2!” If the guard beat them there they wouldn’t be able to go through him. “1!” They were there and the guard was right next to them. “NOW!” Greg pulls Ainz out and jumps up right as the guard rammed into the car with its 450lbs graphene frame, flipping it and crushing it. They land on the other side of the fence rolling for a few seconds. They needed a second to get up but that wasn’t time they had. The powerful red eyes of the guard unit watched them with a menacing stare. Then the gate began to open. “Ainz! Get up!” Greg began running towards the runway till he looked back and saw Ainz still on the ground. Ainz served no purpose to him anymore. He finished what he came to do and if Greg left him there nothing would change. So why was it so hard to just keep running? He began running back even though he knew if the guard got to him it would be his end. He hoisted Ainz on his back and made the mistake of looking up. The gate is wide open. The guard began accelerating as rain bulleted down and lighting crashed in the sky. Greg hoisted Ainz on his back and began running. He could see the jet in the distance. The guard was gaining on them. Then out of the corner of Gregs vision he saw another guard rapidly approaching from his left. Then from his right. BVROOOMB!!! A bolt of plasma struck right next to Greg but he had no time to slow down. Another shot roared from the darkness. BVROOOMB!!! At this point he wasn’t running for himself. If he didn’t make it then he wouldn’t be the only casualty. He saw the jet revealing itself from the blanket of darkness. If it didn’t fly for him then it was the end of the line for him and Ainz. The cockpit popped open, detecting their movements. Greg put Ainz in the back and the jet immediately rose and the cockpit closed. BVROOOMB!!! The jet spun to the right, automatically avoiding the burning plasma. “[Please select destination]” “Washington DC!” The jet instantly shot forward. They were finally safe. They didn’t ne- CRSH! The jet thudded and began tipping.
Greg looked to his left to see the massive claw of the guard as the deathly red eyes rose above the wing. “[ALERT] [ALERT] [UNKNOWN TURBULENCE OCCURING]” The jet began tilting and was flying right above water. Greg knew what he had to do but he didn’t know if he could pull it off. “Ok system. Put me on manual control.” Then a voice from the backseat. “I hope you know what you're doing.” The jet begins going up. Rising closer and closer to the extreme lightning storm. As they rose he tries tilting the jet to shake off the guard but it only drew closer. Slowly making its way across the wing to the cockpit. The lightning grows louder and louder, going from a boom to an explosion. The jet steadies in the lightning clouds as the jet jolts. All the emergency lights begin flashing. The guard inching even closer as it gets hit with constant electricity and strikes. “Hey Ainz, I know we haven’t known each other for very long but I'm glad I met you.” “The feeling’s mutual.” CRACK! A flash brighter than anything he’s ever seen struck the jet with a powerful crack. The guard's eyes turned from a lava red to a dull cracked maroon as its powerful grip diminished into a light hold, then let go. A sigh of relief came over the two though, it was short lived. The jet began descending along with the melted remains of the guard. Greg began hitting buttons hoping one of them would save them. They descended closer and closer to death. Greg stopped hitting buttons, giving up as the dark blue water filled their view till suddenly CUTHUNK! The jet quickly jolts to life pulling up just in the nick of time.”[AUTOPILOT OPERATIONAL]” Greg looks down to see the rips in his seat from his tight grip. “Washington DC here we come!”
“Filling the Void” by Tiffany Touchette Beep! Beep! Beep! I woke up from my gray alarm clock and rolled my dead body over to push the red button down. I slowly got out of bed to the screaming of my mom and the wind chilling my skin. The alarming noise of my clock brought shivers down my spine. It was fascinating to me how a little robot could wake me up from a dead sleep in the matter of seconds. “Tony come eat quick before school” Yelled my mom. But I hated school. I hated socializing. I hated my teachers. And most importantly I hated that there were no robots. Talking to people makes my palms sweaty, my body heats up, my brain goes foggy, and I lose my train of thought. I rather not socialize when I do not have to, but in school I am forced to. I have one friend and his name is Brock. Brock however is not human. My parents do not know about Brock, nor would they allow me to have a friend that is basically imaginary especially because I was 16. He was a very small metal dog that responded to me and kept me company. I bought Brock with me everywhere, however I wished he could do more. I wished he could really talk to me and play sports with me. I continued on with my school day and watched many videos on my ipad about robots. The videos consisted of: how to create a robot, how to build a robot, how to program a robot, and how to make one as real as a human. I went to lunch, sat at an open table and opened my lunch box. I unzipped it and took out my sandwich and began eating. I held Brock in my hand, wishing he could turn into a human and sit next to me so I wasn't alone. I watched the clock tick, as I was dreading the stares I received from everyone as they walked by. I gulped down my water and put my headphones on. “How to build a robot from scratch” echoed in my ears. I zoned into my ipad and blocked out the real world around me. I continued to my math class, then science class, then English class but was clouded by a thought that wouldn't leave my mind. I got home from school and had an idea. I asked my mom to drive me to the closest crafts store. I slammed my door and ran in as fast as I could. I grabbed metal, wires, batteries, fake hair, clothes, and
many other things that my videos had suggested. I swiped them at the cashier and paid, then hurried to my moms car. We drove away and I looked at the window and began thinking. I thought about how I wish I could have friends and talk to people. We pulled in and I hurried up my stairs, skipping steps. I slammed my door and locked it. Whatever I did or began to do had to be a secret. My parents did not approve of Brock, how would they approve of even more robots? I got to work. I glued random pieces together and wired random pieces together. Nothing was happening. I could not figure it out. I watched more and more videos, but nothing. I threw all the metal pieces at my wall with anger. I got into bed and yanked my comforter over my head. I was angry and annoyed. I closed my eyes and hoped for a better day tomorrow. I awoke with the sun rising and the rays beamed through my upside down room. My floor was filled with my brainstorming ideas and my scraps of all the metal leftovers. I got out of bed and continued my dreadful daily routine of going to school, hating school, then coming home and being miserable from school. However, I had something to look forward to. Today was a working day. I hurried on with my day, then walked into my house at approximately 3:36 pm. I ran up and rubbed my fingers on Brock for comfort and I began. “One wire here and connect those there. Oh and then plug that one into that one. Glue that down. Put the batteries in that hole. Release the power off, flip the switch. And pray” I said to myself. “Hello”, said the scraps of metal in front of me. My eyes widened. My palms sweated. I was confused. I was intrigued. But I had finally created something. I pressed it again and again. “Hello,” it says. “Hello, hello, hello”. I couldn’t believe it. I finally had a talking robot. Although it was messy and barely alive, I finally invented something. I had been working on it for hours. It was time to reset again. I climbed into bed, pulled covers over my head, and my mind just ran with thoughts. All I could think about was the voice the robot had. It was calming and soothing. I closed my eyes, tried to relax by counting sheep. I woke up and called in sick to school. However, everyone knows I was not really sick. I just had to remake my robot in a cleaner and more efficient way. I put those together, then glued that together, then flipped it on again,
“Hello, my name is Huck”, the robot finally exclaimed. “Hello Huck, I am your owner, Tony”. “Hello, my name is Huck,” repeated the robot. It finally said more than just “hello”. I watched video after video trying to program it to say more and more things. Huck was soon able to move its left arm after saying “Hello, my name is Huck”. Everyday I created more and more rules for Huck to follow. I taught him when to answer and what to answer. I taught him how to catch a ball and throw the ball back. I even taught him icebreakers to ask when things tend to get awkward for me in social settings. Not only did I build Huck, I created Ben, Ian, Jack, and Colin. Each robot had a different significance. Ben played sports with me. Ian helped me in social situations. Jack helped me teach the other robots things. Colin checked in on my feelings and mental health. He was the caregiver. And Huck will always be my first friend who was the guinea pig and my rock through it all. School tended to be different as I went on with my new support group. I put plugs in my ears that allowed Ian to hear people around me and give me feedback on what to say. I was sick of being bullied and yelled at for being awkward or not fitting in. I didn't need humans to save me, I just needed robots. I went to my first class and sat down in the middle instead of hiding in the back. I opened my notebook and pressed on my ear and gave a little “check, check”. “Reporting from your bedroom”, Ian said, “We are all set, let's get this day started.” I looked unfamiliar and strange sitting in the middle of the classroom, instead of hiding in the corner. People's eyes glared at me like they had never seen me before. Like I was the new kid. Finally the moment I was waiting for, “Oh, Hi I am Tim, what is your name?” Tim says. I waited for Ians response on how to deal with that situation. “Ok ready. Say Hi I am Tony, nice to meet you.” Exclaimed Ian. “Hi I am Tony, nice to meet you,” I said. “Are you new here?” Asked Tim.
Ian then said, “Ok good. You got this. Breathe. Say ‘No, I just normally sit in the back’”. “No, I just normally sit in the back,” I said, copying Ian. “Oh cool, well nice to meet you” Said Tony. “Good! Just say `You too!’” Ian screamed at me. “You too!” I had my first real interaction with someone and did not sweat or get clammy, or lose my train of thought. I had never actually introduced myself to a human. I saw the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel. My joy quickly turned into nerves as I heard a new voice in my ear. “Tony, are you home? Who is that talking?” I heard my mom through my ear plugs in the background. “Uh oh, Tony… Your mom is coming. What should I do” Yelled Ian as I heard the door open and then heard muffles and he was breaking up. “Are you still there Ian?” I asked. And nothing. Was it over just like that? Was it too good to be true? Did my mom ruin them? Is she gonna be mad at me? So many questions ran through my head. I continued to my next class with hope that Ian would come back on. I gazed at the open seats within the classroom. There was one in the back, my usual, and one in the middle. Frozen like a deer in headlights, I tried to make up my mind. Until finally, “Are you serious? Pick the middle one Tony. Come on” Yelled Ian. And just like that Ian was back in my ear. The seat in between the two boys was calling my name. I introduced myself, with help from Ian of course. By the end of the day I had two new friends who loved playing basketball. Within my new life my day consisted of: talking to these new friends, playing with them, then going home and being with my robot friends, all with a big smile from ear to ear on my face. The missing void in my life had finally been filled.
“The Lost Years” by Allen Wang
Every now and then the dream would come back, with him sprinting across the endless and fertile land.
A team of honking geese startled him out of his reverie. Once again, he found himself under the big tree of his family's old farm. He grabbed his belongings and hurried towards the bottom of the Wall.
The herd went south, then over the wall, and suddenly, all the evidence of birds vanished. Again, silence reigned inside the Wall. He quickened his pace, hoping to get to her cabin before the sun set.
He finally caught his breath and knocked on her door. He often left his work behind to help her because they were the only friends at school. He didn't know how to start their conversation today to tell her that this was going to be his last visit. He was about to fly up to the stars.
As always, they climbed up to the top of the Wall and studied there. Standing on the ledge, he fixed his gaze on the horizon, but all he saw was a wasteland. "Your father and I spent all of our lives farming. The entire family is counting on you, kid. You must study hard, serve our country, and bring our family pride." Grandpa's voice kept lingering in his ears especially after his father's death during the Riots. "What's the point of farming if there is no land to farm," he thought. After those years, he still hasn't forgiven his father.
For centuries, global warming had shattered the world, but the fallout was even worse. Billions of people had been wiped out by parasitic diseases, and millions of species were extinct. The apocalypse continued to spread carelessly around the globe like a raging plague. Then walls were built, shielding the last patch
of green. He noticed that the flowers in the corner under the wall have just been corroded away. It was a sign that the "plague" was on its way, marching towards the Wall, the last bastion of civilization.
However, humanity came together like never before after discovering the Garden of Eden, another planet that was more than 1000 light years away. It was revealed from the most advanced Wide Field Infrared Survey Telescope that the planet's size was just comparable to Earth's, with a star nearby to make photosynthesis possible. More importantly, it had an amazing shade of blue on its surface. Thus, the United Earth Government set sail for the Garden. One ship was sent out every ten years, gathering the best and brightest minds in their respective fields. Since no ships have arrived yet, some argue that it was merely a desperate attempt.
Still, life was a misery especially for those who wouldn't leave. As all the resources were concentrated toward the center inside the Wall, where the Government was established and the Ship Launcher was constructed, there were fewer and fewer available farther out. For those who lived in the shadow of the Wall, it appeared as if the end was in sight.
"I'm sorry that I keep forgetting these optical equations." She lowered her head. She would never be able to afford private tutoring after school because of her family's financial situation.
The question also brought him back to reality. "This is simply just the String Theory," he said, "using the latest particle accelerators, we can now create an 'artificial' string that allows ships within its range to travel through multiple dimensions of space, enabling interstellar travel or hyperspace jumps."
"But I still don't understand how multidimensional space can help us get to the Garden sooner."
"We used to say a straight line has the shortest distance connecting A and B points on a piece of paper, but it turns out that when we fold the paper and make A and B overlap, we can actually build a bridge over an entirely new level of spatial dimension."
"Even it is plausible. Do you think this is the best option? Do you really want to go there?" she asked with a sigh, "how can you be sure that promise is real, because no ships have arrived, and it could simply be an illusion or a mirage from the telescope."
Her words reminded him of what he was preparing to say to her. He received a letter from his Flying Mailbox a few days earlier. He was awarded a "ticket" because of his outstanding achievement in astrophysics at school. He was meant to be filled with joy and enthusiasm, but instead he felt hesitant and lost. Clearly he wasn't ready to say goodbye.
The project of leaving the Earth did fail to be introduced in the very beginning. People, mainly from the lower or middle classes, began to demonstrate against the government because of the skyrocketed tax rates and demands of supply chains. The protest eventually degenerated into riots. Protestors fought to invest to protect the environment and control the population. The violence continued for decades, and the armed force was finally used by the central government.
In the decade that followed, the government resolutely shifted its focus into the development of space technology, and began to recklessly drain all the resources possible from Earth. Heavy industry has accelerated the destruction to Earth's ecosystem. The Earth was now as deserted as the Mars surface. Later, humans had to congregate into the Walls and inhabit the planet's last remaining green.
"A mirage…" he repeated by himself, "at least science will not lie; those stars are just resting right up there, glittering and approachable." He couldn't tell her that he was leaving, not after seeing her eyes filled with emotions.
In the early years, her parents were both passionate environmentalists, and they were arrested by the Central Government when demonstrating against the construction of an antimatter fuel plant. His father was no exception, a "dedicated farmer" who stayed faithful to the sacred grounds even during the most turbulent times. Later, the government's actions during the Antimatter Riot aroused public indignation and sparked a chain reaction of riots from the environmentalist party. His father had been arguing with his family during those days. Despite Grandpa's best efforts to keep his father from joining the Riot, he went nevertheless. Hiding underneath the desk and watching the entire thing happened, he didn't know it was his last time seeing his father.
Later, the Government began brainwashing the remaining environmentalists, building memorials to those who died in the Riot. It did succeed in eliciting popular compassion. Despite the fact that everyone knew the true cause was the government's overwhelming military power, environmentalists faded.
He came to the memorial with his grandpa, and then he met her. He wondered why she had come alone.
He began to pay attention to her at school. He often saw her sitting in the corner of the classroom, having her packed lunch in the school back garden, and walking towards the Wall after school when everyone else was walking in the opposite direction.
"Can I come with you? I've never gone to the Wall before."
A cold breeze after sunset blew him back to reality again. She smiled at him and said, "Even those stars are real. I just want to watch another sunset with you."
Looking up to the sky, he could still see the left over energy particles from the last ship's jump. It could have been him tomorrow, but he decided to wait for another ten years.
It no longer matters if the Garden was real or not. If it gives people something to aspire to, perhaps it will be enough to save the rest of humanity. Just as his presence has saved her. She now felt warm and accepted.
At a distance of hundreds of light years, the Garden sparkled in the frigid depths of time.
“Chasin’ The Bag” by Mason Zernich In a world far far away known as Super Slam, there lived millions of people. The planet itself is identical to Earth when it comes to temperatures and geographics. However, the way the world is run is completely different. There are only two types of people, those who are rich and those who are not. In addition, the rich are the ones who make the rules. Anything they say or do is allowed since they have to money to do whatever they want. Unfortunately for those who are poor, they have no say and no hope for an exciting life. Whatever financial status you are born into is where you remain for the rest of your life. Charlie, a teenager in a family of four is part of the unlucky side. Charlie’s everyday routine consists of helping on his father's farm working from dusk till dawn 7 days a week. He as to though, because he as no choice. They barely make enough money to buy food for everyone and even the food they can buy is not close enough to satisfy them or their family to fulfillment. He goes to bed hungry every night to only work first thing in the morning the following day. However, as many people might complain, he doesn’t. He watches his father work twice as hard as he does only to be rewarded with even less food. His mom and sister do chores around the house since they are a very old-fashioned type of family. Like everyone in this situation would want, is a better life for their whole family. The rich had plenty of excess cash to the point of they did not know what to do with all of it. However, one day, they all came together and came up with a game called “Don’t Move” that uses their spare money to create pure entertainment for themselves. The programmers they hired created many functioning robots that can act like humans; meaning they can smell, hear, walk, run, etc, however, were made better in every way. The purpose of this was to use these robots to have them hunt real humans. This game would be a potential solution to change one poor person’s life but a potential issue of killing hundreds of people.
When the rich announced their game to the public they gave no details of what
the game untold except the winner would receive $500 million. Charlie knew this was an offer he could not pass up. Even though his family was against it since his dad believes those rich people are never up to
no good.” He decided to ignore them and apply for an opportunity that could potentially change his life. Charlie never heard anything for months. He thought they didn’t have an interest in him. However, one random day he was working on the farm blacked-out Escalade drove onto his dirt driveway and three males who were at least 6’5” and over 200 pounds of pure muscle hopped out and without saying any words picked up Charlie, and as they were doing so, Charlie’s father was sprinting across his farm but was way to malnourish to have enough speed to sprint that far. Charlie tried kicking and screaming but before he knew it, he was put into the back of the car, a bag was thrown over his head, he felt a needle injected into his arm, and he could feel the car quickly accelerate before he passed out. He was sleeping peacefully until he heard a scream of a human voice in the tone of pain from afar and another human ran in his direction telling him to run. His relaxation turned into confusion and fear. Where was he, Charlie thought, and what is going on? He remembers being in the back of a car but now was laying in long green grass. However, right then did not seem like the best time to sit down and think about those questions he got up and started running without any idea of where to or why. He ran until dusk and had to stop as he was gasping for air. He and the stranger just dropped down laying on their backs too tired to move a muscle. Charlie eventually got the words “what happened?” The at least 30year-old man still struggling for air said mumbled “This game is not a kid's game. There are at least seven feet tall robots out for blood They look like humans, act like humans, but are stronger. I woke up from the injection I got and thought it was 2 other humans around me. However, as soon as we moved one of the ‘humans’ attacked the other. I tried to stick up for the other one but when I punched him, I felt like I was punching a metal wall and when he looked at me his eyes turned red. The kind you can tell can not possibly be human and rather ready to kill. I even tried pushing it off the person but there was no budge, it was like I was trying to push a train. They both just continued to sit there and although they did not physically speak they both looked at each other and they could tell they were thinking the same thing. . . “what did we get ourselves into.” They looked around and although they could not see well all they heard was the sound of the ocean. They automatically knew that they were on an island.
The rich of course knew people would want to leave when they found the truth about the game but if there was no escape/ place to run away to spare your life, what does that force people to do... fight and in the process provides entertainment. Charlie and this stranger would become the closest of friends in a matter of minutes because that might be the only time they have left.