science fiction
The bridge between imagination and technological advancement, where the dreamer’s vision predicts change, and foreshadows a futuristic reality. Science fiction has the ability to become “science reality”.
An Uncertain Future
Laura looked up at the sky and wondered for the billionth time what things were like before the event. She shook her head, she couldn’t think like that, she had to focus. They needed to find food and get to shelter before the heat of the day really began to get bad. Her mother had been young when the event happened and most of what she talked about was the heat and how it hadn’t been this hot back then. Scientists had warned of the potential risks if mankind did not find an alternative to fossil fuels in the next 5 years. Their timeline had been a bit…optimistic. Not that many people had believed them anyway. She liked to think she would have believed the scientists if she’d lived before the event. Laura didn’t much care for the heat and wished she could have experienced the times her mother reminisced about to her. She liked to think she could have done something, if she had just been there, to preserve those wonderful times so many had taken for granted.
Brenna SmithPublished 3 years ago in FuturismIron Man
Drift flapped down from the sky, covered the ground in an ever rising white barrier. kkkkkk--hhueuhh… kkkkkkkk….hueeehhh Long, drawn out, purposeful breaths through the mask, interrupted only by the tick...tick…ticking of the rad marker. The snow washed waste stretched out before the metal beast as it sat in its decomposing recliner, acting as sentinel before the hatch in its yard. A holster rested on its hip, a magnum occupying the space inside it. Wrecked houses with warped trees growing throw them, a television running only static, a burnt and broken skeleton sitting on a corroded couch before it. Rusted cars with various logos and skeletons in various garb litter the street in front of it’s seat.The wind blew through the field of leveled houses and strange trees, depositing frost against the metal casing of the watcher. As the wind kicked up, a new sound filled the air. A clink against the exoskeleton of it. A golden locket, fashioned in the shape of a heart. It stared on through the field, keeping its watch. It scanned the field of broken buildings as the locket shifted in the wind. The wind whispered in its ear as it passed by. Through the metal it could hear the wind’s words.
James ThebergePublished 3 years ago in FuturismUncanny Silicone Valley
July 28, 2042 The disruptive blare of the alarm snapped my attention from my oodle device to the screen on the wall ahead of me. All around the compact room, my delivery team adopted the same course of action. Each person looked to the large monitor with faces that emoted something bordering between excitement, nervousness, and anxiety.
Heart-Keepers
Heart-Keepers This day was not going how Sycus was hoping. The plan was simple; infiltrate the heart keepers, take the lockets, and get somewhat of a life back; one that didn’t hold the fear of being controlled by a corrupt organization. “Theseus what is happening down there? The captains just went by, if they spot us were sky fodder!” Sycus said. Theseus, the brains of the operation and the best hacker this side of High Chicago, was to make sure the plan went somewhat smoothly. So far he wasn’t doing that job very well.
Kevin SigstadPublished 3 years ago in FuturismThe Things I do Have
“SMACK” My cheek hit the concrete, and I could feel the small rocks in my palms as I tried to lift myself from the pavement.
Mitchell G KressinPublished 3 years ago in FuturismThe Continuing.
This story has a beginning and of course as most things do an end, But in this story you will also find something quite peculiar.. a continuing. It takes place in the city of Manchester, England. In the year 2298.
Renegade
Renegade - By Fiona Mackenzie The year is 2086… A field three times the size of a superbowl stadium. Packed with screaming fans.
Above Ground
We were crouching behind a dumpster. I was too terrified to acknowledge the stench of stewing garbage assaulting my nose. The moisture between Karina and I’s intertwined fingers intensified as she hugged our palms together tightly. We were both sweating profusely from our marathon sprint in the stifling heat to our current hiding place. Our threadbare clothes were molding to our bodies like a second layer of skin. Time wasn’t in our favor as the horde of daywalkers began to close in on us. There was no escape; we were going to die.
Kennedy LavingtonPublished 3 years ago in FuturismGreyer and Keel
Haggard is what Keel would describe Greyer’s state to be. He suffered from black eyes, incurred occasionally through sleep deprivation, but mostly due to his knack for parading his hyper-masculine tendencies in the form of punches to the face, stomach, and, in rare occasions, the groin. These beatings to said features occurred on 55th and 3rd, 22nd and 8th, and on the platform of 14th Street Union Square, where he paced, waiting for the 6-train heading uptown. Greyer was not one to stand clear of the closing doors, and he often held up filled subway cars with his navy backpack, refusing to wait for the next train. As he was unwilling to tarnish his ego in this manner, those who challenged his right to stand wherever he wished were often ejected from the car and emptied out onto the platform.
A Locket Revolution
Under the November gray sky of twilight, Marcus pedaled his bicycle along the pitted highway of Route 24 which led from the village of Maumme. He could not fathom that this road once teemed with rushing motorized vehicles. Decades later this crumbling pavement was traveled by mules and horses pulling engineless automobile frames, human pedaled cycles of various sizes and styles and the rare solar cart. Upon leaving the sector gates of Maumme, Marcus glanced back at the night managers who climbed their ladders to ignite gas globes using long tapered brass torches. The golden hued glass orbs illuminated the main streets of the town, a glimmer of security during the long night hours of early winter. Maumme was one of the fortunate towns to have been granted a gas-powered lighting system by the Alliance of Lakes, the ruling government which spanned over North America’s Great Lakes region.
Connie JonesPublished 3 years ago in FuturismHomeward Bound
If there was ever a place my soul would zoom to after life, it would be this place. The soft buzz of summer, faded stripes on the highway winding up the hill, green grass hugging the edges of the cement. Sweet pea blooms tangling and unfolding from underneath barbed wire. Large lazy meadows graced with sun that race up into the high cliffs studded with redwoods. Mountains and mountains that disappear into the golden afternoon haze.
Hannah BrockPublished 3 years ago in FuturismCrisis 2.0
Don’t tell me how long it’s been. I know all too well when it happened, because my third child was born in the middle of a forest no more than a week after. He is 13 now, and we are still on the run. Everything I once knew has been destroyed. There is a new world now controlled by crooked men who thought it best for everyone to be forcibly directed. It was certainly a small price for them to pay to create what they are convinced is a utopia.