The Near Future City

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The Near Future City

Submitted: January 11, 2013

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Submitted: January 11, 2013







 “Looking back at these past 200 years, we have witnessed a gigantic leap in technology. We have achieved “miracles”, we have done the “impossible”, we have materialized “fiction”. We have witnessed a journey, from the primitive human dependant on our surrounding, to us today, evolved, superior, and mightier. We have risen past man-hood, and had achieved god-hood”

-Ivan Ivankovitch Ivanovsky – Lead researcher from the “Perpetual Machine” project




My head felt heavy, and I had a splitting headache. All I could tell was that I was lying face down on some sort of hard surface. The surface was wet, and it smells of human’s piss. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I was lying down on a floor, and I could see some bars in front of me. My heads hurt. Summoning all of my strength, I sat up right. I’m missing a tooth, as my tongue is now playing with the slippery gap between the teeth. My clothes smelled like alcohol, I was probably drinking last night. My heads feels like its being pounded by a thousand jackhammers simultaneously. Instinctively, I raised my hand to touch the hurting part. There was bandage there.


“Rise and shine, Sam” A big figure appeared, blocking the hall’s dim light. I immediately realized Officer Elena’s voice. I’ve been in the police station enough time to remember all of the officer’s voices.

-Feeling good?

-Like shit!

-You should be. You’ve been hit over the head with a chair!

-What happened?

-The usual. You go to a bar, get a drink, get into a fight with a guy twice your size…

-Yeah, I get it.

-Can you stand?


-Well, stand up! The police station isn’t your private hotel!

-Okay, and about my stuff!

-Right here. Sam, don’t you ever get tired of it?

-Of what?


I stood up, hearing the cracks of my joints on the way up. Every muscle in my body aches.


-Of this, you know. Every night, get drunk, do something stupid and ended up in the police station the next morning.

-Maybe…maybe not.

-Well, it’s not too late to start!


-Say, how’s work?


I glared at her, with a glare that could cut a fly in two, and leave its wings still flying.


-Okay! I’m just trying to be friendly!


She looked straight into the scanner. Retinal-lock! The carbon steel bar retracted into its base. Slowly, I stepped out of my cell.


-Here’s your stuff!


She handed me my PID (Personal Information Device), my watch, my credit drive and my coat. The clock on the PID showed “SAT 10:20:34.5 AM, 23/10/2245”, along with 3 notifications. “$15 was transferred from your account to the Zion’s Police Department for assaulting another man. Be careful next time”. “Sam, this is the third time this week. One more time and I’m going to have to force you to do overtime – Bale”. “Hot sale today at the Emmagerd mall! All items 20% off.” I slid the PID into my pocket, and strapped the watch to my wrist. “Blood pressure normal, heartbeat normal, alcohol in blood too high” – it said. Putting my coat on, I walked out of the cell area. When I walked by Elena’s area, I notice her calendar. The date 24/10/2245 was circled, with a rushed writing of “BD” next to it.


-Hey Elena


-Tomorrow is your birthday right?

-Uh huh!

-Do you want anything?

-Really? Sam Gideon offering to by me a present?


-Huh, a storm must be coming. Anyway, some flower would be nice.


-Yeah, flowers! Got it, genius?



Elena Ivanova, an officer at Zion Police Department. I’ve been thrown into the ZPD cell so many time that not only did I learned her name, but her background, and I didn’t even asked. Russian, born in 2220, came here in 2240, after the Third Depression. Came here looking for a decent job, and got it. Talkative. Very! Friendly, much to her superior’s annoyance.  Shared a Kit-Kat with me once, and almost got fired because of it. I guess it’s only natural to get her something for her birthday.


I stepped out of the police station. 10:00 am, and the sky is still dark. The sun is almost perpetually covered by a thick layer of smoke that sometime I wonder if it is even there anymore. Some sunlight instead of neon light would be nice. The street jammed all of it color into my eye, jamming my retinal with its bright neon light. Neon sign everywhere, with the occasional hologram advertisement. The streets were spotless, shinning white. Every five minutes or so, a cleaner robot would patrol the area, polishing it, picking up any trash. I walk pass a virtual sex shop, with two hologram stripper standing by the gate. I remembered, there used to be a bookstore there, the old brick building with its humble banner was the property of an 80 years old man. I liked the store; I remember finishing the entire Godfather series without even bringing the book to the cashier, which was also the old man. Sometime, I would by a few issue of “The Punisher” comic, to support the man. Nobody reads anymore, all they do now is watching 3D movie and jerk off whenever there’s a sex scene. I kept walking, feeling a little heavy. The street light lit up as I go, not that the neon banners weren’t enough. I strolled along the street, watching everything go by. I noticed a group of teenager in an alley. They are probably using the L4D, the new “recreational” drug. It was advertised to be “non-addictive” and “good for your health” by Tech7 inc. Lies, I’ve seen people smoking this crap non-stop, seven days a week, and ended up looking like something from straight from Resident Evil. Those kids are smoking their life away, and they don’t know it. There’s nothing I could do. Try to stop them and I’d probably get called a “hypocrite”.


I turned around the corner, right as a big zeppelin passed over my head, carrying a giant screen playing John Piper’s election campaign’s advertisement. People said that he’s the most prominent candidate for the president seat. The first nano - augmented president. Promises “BETTER CHANGES FOR A BETTER TOMORROW”. Let’s just hope he keeps his promises. A man passed me. Caucasian, mid-40, pin-stripped suit, dark hair combed back. He was wearing the new “Apple-Glass”, the “revolutionizing” new gadget, a pair of glasses that puts his PID in display. Expensive piece of technology! Said to “help us communicate in this modern era” And it did the exact opposite. Nobody talk to each other anymore. They just chat over the glass. Some even use the glass to talk to each other, despite the fact that they are sitting next to each other.


2245 or not, something never changes. I walked in to the ghetto. The worst part of the city, so bad that the city doesn’t even bother sending cleaner-bot into this part anymore. I walked on the dirty street, both disgusted by the smell, but some how find it refreshing, a change from the perfume filed air in the other part of the city. The sickening, but somewhat “natural” stench keeps forcing itself in to my nose. I walked along these dirty streets, passing “gangsta” and “ghetto boys”. These gangsta are all out in the street these days, thinking them “hard”, acting and posing to be “cool”, talking about how they have been stabbed and shot like its fun to be them. They grow old ain’t gonna mean nothing. They’re just stuck in the loop, not even bothering to find a way out.


I arrived at the shop. The dimly-lighted shop looked like it is going to fall down any moment, but it didn’t. It stood there for 15 years. Slowly, out of the darkness, an old lady emerged.

-Hey Sam.

-Hello, Mrs. Steinbeck

-Oh please, how many times do I have to tell you, just call me Emily!

-Ok, hello Emily

-What do you want? The usual pack of .45 cigarette right?

-Yeah, that and some flowers?

-Flowers? Nobody buys flower anymore! They all just send digital postcard through their fancy glasses nowadays. It’s pleasing to see that someone still remember the tradition. What is it for?

-A gift.

-Oh, okay. White tulips, is that fine?

-That would be nice.


Leaning against the wall, I scribbled “Happy Birthday” on the piece of paper, and then put it inside the flowers. Carefully, I laid the synthetics flowers on Elena doorstep, and walked away.

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