An angry flash of pinkish-white light sparked the signal fires of a burgeoning utopia. Evaporated with the rest of humanity were its triumphs, achievements, and star-spangled banners. Its failures, too, burned up in the pulse. The domination, subjugation, torture and genocides behind them, an innocent people survived for some time on rations of Hamburger Helper and expired MREs from the first and last space-age, the year they photographed Gliese.
By the time the thousand-or-so people had stepped out of the capsule, 150 years had lapsed. Infrastructure, homes, museums, municipal buildings, Manhattan, Shanghai – even the village outside the capsule – everything was entirely destroyed. But they knew this was coming…
A series of qualifications determined entry to the capsule. Not all engineers, physicists, and planetary scientists would make it aboard, but let it be said the only people who survived had a career in the humanities, sciences and mathematics. Politicians, good as they were, would not be needed on the other side of the flash. Corporatists, too – sorry to say – were all left behind. Even my family: Though their nurturing smiles were filled only with the best of intentions, they did not come. And neither could I. The society who made it were good for tomorrow. They were educated; indoctrinated, sure, but who could help that? The plan was final, so it hardly mattered at all. On the other side, the same goal filled each head which ached in the true sunlight, its powerful stare. No one looked up.
Outward forever, the grass was green and nothing was dead. For a moment, the younger ones might have felt duped if it weren’t for the plan, taught to them since birth like some faith, a religion. The horticulturists fanned out ahead, staggering and falling to their knees. As mud soaked through their mended blue jeans, they bent further over, and put their faces into the grass. It smelled like nothing from the terrariums they’d studied, deep underground. The children laughed, and followed in suit. No one spoke a word.
An architect and robotics engineer named Phineas Al Serde exited the arched portal and stood leaning against the lead dome. The 100-acre field transformed before his eyes from a rolling green ocean into square sections of concrete, and the gigantic square sections, larger than city blocks, stretched to the sky like gray reeds, hungry for light. He closed his eyes and contemplated suicide.
9 replies on “Robotica: Dawn”
Cool story bro (actually cool photo) but this actually sounds like the scifag thriller fishfag has supposedly been laboring away on.Also remember the time I threatened rip your chest tube out. Good times fucker.
Who is Barrett Brown and why did John Tiessen mouth rape him … all these questions and more answered on tomorrow night’s episode of Hate Radio on Gulag Talk Radio.
Ffs now the rest of the sentencing is going over to Jan 22nd, just execute him already.
So the th3j35t3r went on a shooting spree and now he’s dead. http://abcnews.go.com/US/pennsylvania-killing-spree-suspects-body-found/story?id=27636576
deer mr. urophiliacs,
y do u peeple always focus on the unpleasant side of things?
cant u write something heartwarming like the true story of a charismatic hippy musician woo, after a life of hardship, finds the true love of a younger woman and marrys. as a reward for his spirituality on top of that, his lifelong dream finally comes true , race-war. moving!
only in murica, god bless jebus n all that carp.
yours sincerely, Nathan Handwerker
#Isupportwaterboarding (soon to be an Olymipic sport) http://wikileaks.org/cia-hvt-counterinsurgency/press-release.html
Your going down!! pisswizard!!
NO YOUR BEST FRIEND FOREVER JO MJADBOLLOCKS AND HER FIVE PERSONAS ARE GOING DOWN. ROLL ON 5TH JAN, I HOPE IT,S ON THE EARLY NEWS BEFORE LIGHTS OUT AT 8.PM. I,M SURE MY MA WILL GIVE ME AN UPDATE WHEN SHE COMES TO VISIT !!!!! I BET SHE HAS GONE DOWN ON YOU A FEW TIMES THOUGH YOU MUCKY PAIR.