The Mosaic: An Excerpt From The AD3742 Intergalactic Exposition.
Welcome Intergalactic Community V. Those of you who have attended before I would like to say that it is good to see you but as you know, I would be lying.
A Slow Death
Skaler didn’t have a last name. Truth be told, she wasn’t supposed to have a first, but she had chosen it herself and liked it. Last names were for people with families, and there weren’t a great many of those left. But she deserved a first name, her Ma had always said so, and she had listened.
Diary Entry: Corrinne Bailey November 26, 2065 Today is Thanksgiving. Well, not really. It would have been Thanksgiving in the Old World. My mom always made the big meal the best. The house would start smelling of turkey, yeast rolls, sweet potatoes, and spices early in the morning and last all day until dinner was served. The aroma was heavenly. The memories are there; but fuzzy. I remember smells more than I remember actual events. I’m pretty sure the house was full of people, and we laughed and ate until we couldn’t anymore.
The Eviction Notice
Our first sign should have been when every television, computer, phone and tablet on the planet went rogue, displaying "YOUR PAYMENT IS PAST DUE. THIS IS YOUR FINAL NOTICE!" upon every screen. However, after conducting lengthy investigations, world leaders eventually decided that they had more pressing concerns than what appeared to be an incredible but harmless hack-job. As I stated from the beginning, and we’re all now aware, this would be a colossal mistake.
Questions at the Edge
They shot the American redhead first, the big Latino next, both in the head, and then shot me in the leg. With the panic around us, only Binti noticed my cry of pain. She saw me stumble to the floor, blood seeping through my jeans, and jumped up on the platform to kneel next to me. She slipped off her rucksack, pulled out a clean towel -- probably her last -- and pressed it hard into the wound. It wasn’t the first gunshot injury for either of us.
Aryotes-11: The End of Days
The average heart rate for a human being is seventy-two beats per minute. That was before the dark wave swept across the planet. In the year twenty ninety-nine there was a meteor shower, carrying one of the deadliest pathogens known to man. It affected over ninety-nine percent of all life on earth. As the remnants of the meteors burned in the atmosphere, they dissipated into the hazardous gas known as Aryotes-11. For most people, it caused heart failure. For the remaining few left alive, they morphed into these other-worldly mind-less creatures. These large, jagged, rock-like creatures; feed on anything with an active heartbeat.
Earth - 452 AE (After Extinction) Often I lie awake through the night while the world sleeps soundly. Most are quiet, and I’m left with the company of Nature's thoughts. Winds gust in distinct patterns, like a language, giving accent to the sound of mostly restful wildlife. In a meditative trance, I listen; studying so as to become capable of deciphering the prose.
The year is 436 A.R... A.R. meaning "After Revelations." My name is Kali; I am the leader of the New Egypt Faction, the most powerful Faction in the New World today with just over one million followers. I guess you can call me the New World Moses; my people look to me for direction and understanding. I am also the father of two sons whom I love deeply. As a leader, it is sad to say that other than my boys, with their innocence and inexperience, I despise the world as it is today.
“Residual female number 7894: Caucasian, blonde, malnourished, common ocular anomaly,” Fazon said into the stem mic below her specs.
The sky has turned a dusky blue in the fading light. Clouds stained a warm purple streak across the sky. I clutch my mother’s heart-shaped locket dangling from my neck, anxiety clawing at my ribcage. What was once a lush forest has now turned into dead land. A place touched by the war years ago. Dead, mostly limbless trees stick up out of gray dirt. Flower bushes dot the land in tangles of stems. I stop for a moment to admire a flower, the center of which is a deep red that bleeds outwards into bright white petals. They’re beautiful and produce a sweet scent that reminds me of vanilla. Miri said they like to grow near dead things. Nearby one winds its way through someone’s rotted ribcage. My stomach tightens at the thought of her. Her green eyes, so dark they nearly looked black, with golden pupils shaped like a cat’s. Her sharp teeth and dimples flashing whenever she smiled. She was native to this planet that my mother and I came to nine years ago, when I was ten, along with many other people from Earth. We met when I accidentally came across her town, built in the middle of a forest. She was unlike anyone I had ever met, and it made her perfect. We only knew each other for a couple of months, but I think I was in love with her.
All they'd left her with was a locket, heart-shaped and now rusted by the dusty terracotta sun. As she kicked up the dirt that covered the cratered landscape before her, the familiar sting of anger rose from her stomach.
Their faces. All you had to do was look at their faces to see that they had taken the vaccine. They had that blank stare of a person who drank fluoride laced water for their entire life. They would smile and have small talk with their neighbors, sitting down in front of the TV to zone out mindlessly every night for hours; shells of the humans they had been before it all had gone to hell in a hand basket.