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”.
Horizon Analysis
The cargo hold of a C-17 was a strange place to call home. Maybe that’s why I liked it. The zen of the engines’ textured thrum. The cherry red ambience of the low lighting. Nearly 1,600 square feet of space—more than twice any apartment I could afford.
An Odyssey of the Heart
Most days you’ll find me debugging lines of code on my computer. The noise of incoming data from an optical spectrometer needs to be filtered to reduce signal attenuation and ensure its quality. Said data is disassembled by Fourier and assembled into a matrix by the algorithm, which proceeds to extract the index of a star’s Hydrogen-alpha line, defined by the trough of a spectral footprint… In other words, the speed of a star can be calculated relative to your reference frame by comparing the intensity of light it emits at different wavelengths. This works because hydrogen is the most common element in the universe; so, it works on stars, planets, comets, and… objects.
Joan Manuel Madera BaezPublished 3 years ago in FuturismYou Are Afraid
Halfway through finals. So close to finishing out the semester. Staying up all night to study was a bad idea. Milo was so tired during his biology test, he could not have possibly done well. Whatever, if he had to retake classes, it wasn't the end of the world.
Moa and the Sea
Her ancestors were the first to sail the globe, long before Columbus. They landed in western South America before Leif Ericson landed in eastern North America. Their ship builders invented new techniques and even new tools, to pioneer sea exploration. Their Sailors learned to navigate the globe using only a star map, stored in their mind. Moa’s father taught her, just like his father taught him.
Steven DavisPublished 3 years ago in FuturismThe Turning
The stars shone brightly through the vast window in Captain Seeger's quarters. It reached the floor and offered a perfect view of space, contrasting neatly with the grey walls within. They made time sink in, much like the grey hairs which made themselves known in the recesses of his groomed, black hair, which shone with the radiance of the twinkling stars beyond.
William BundyPublished 3 years ago in FuturismThe Ship Of Time
The night life in this small shore community was just beginning to unfold when Jim and I decided to take a romantic walk on the beach. We walked a short distance on the boardwalk looking for an entrance to the beach. We passed some wild rides and some kiddie ones as well, like the merry go round and the circling swans. We stopped to place a dollar on a wheel to try to win a pack of cigarettes . We lost. So we walked until we found the stairs descending to the beach. When our bare feet touched the sand, we felt that it was still warm from the day's brilliant sun. We walked slowly as we gazed at the ocean. We focussed our eyes on a ship coming toward shore. It was odd that a ship would come this way. When it got closer I noticed something eerie! There was a strange light emanating from the hull. I looked down to get my cel from my pocket and found that my clothes had changed from denim cut offs and a T shirt, to an old fashioned sun dress ! Was I hallucinating? I looked beseechingly at Jim and realized, he too was now dressed in an outfit that could have been worn in the nineteenth century. Anxiety ridden, we both decided to go back to the boardwalk where the crowd was gathered. We hurried up the stairs to the boardwalk to search for an explanation. What we found amazed and alarmed us both. The "boardwalk" with its electronic games and bustling scantily dressed crowd, was now transformed into a 1920's "promenade". How could this be? Fancy dressed couples paraded past us, some women were holding fans! All were dressed as if at a costume party for antique clothing. Both men and women wore hats. The men wore derby or bowler hats...and the women wore elaborate sun shaders. The beach had ropes going into the water. I guess with the heavy wool bathing suits they wore, it was hard to keep balance without holding onto something. A prominent feature of the promenade was an eclectic variety of performances and entertainers who vied for the people's attention. Many, seemingly greedy men, were hawking their games. The Pier housed a theatre and a large open-air dance floor. Couples were dancing the foxtrot while a gravel voiced singer named Louis Armstrong played the trumpet and sang a song called "When You're Smiling". In addition, there was a live band and a "Barbershop Quartet". We watched as women called "flappers" danced the jitterbug. Most odd was the existence of bathing machines, because beachwear was considered immodest ( I was told by a passerby in answer to my query). We even saw a man playing an instrument, I think it was an little organ, with a monkey working the crowd for money. Can you believe this? Most men had handlebar mustaches and most women wore long dresses. We had seen enough. In a panic and with hearts racing we scurried back to the beach where we saw the ship. When we arrived at the spot, we caught sight of the boat heading away, out to sea. Its light grew dim as the night progressed. We waited there for quite some time waiting for the ship to appear again. Exasperated we sat down on the sand. I realized the sand felt cool so I must be bare foot. When I turned toward Jim, I realized that we were now dressed in our original outfits once again. We felt relief but feared to even mention to each other what had happened. We silently got up and walked to the car. To this day neither of us brings up the strange experience .
Natalie MarinoPublished 3 years ago in FuturismLog 79A
It's almost funny looking back, how much we like to think we know. “Terraforming a planet takes tremendous time and effort.” They’d always tell us. “It’s a process spanning a thousand years, but your efforts are imperative to its success.” They’d say. "You are aiding the betterment of all mankind!" We believed them at the time—we had no reason not to. We all knew our jobs, and we knew the risks, or so we thought. We were well aware of the process, and we knew the roles we each played.
One Way
One way. Rey’s finger traced over the letters on his ticket as he sat on a bench at the harbor. This was the last time he would ever be here, the last time he would see this ocean, the last time he would see this sky, the last time he would see this life he was so desperately trying to leave behind. This was the last time he would see his home. But it wasn’t his home any longer, not after today. His new home was a sparkling paradise that awaited him far, far away. Rey couldn’t wait. He had worked endlessly to get this ticket, his ticket out.
The Retro-Junkie's Hard Burn
They were the worst. A demolition crew on their lunch break. Flageuring Demos, the type of dirty, violent men that drove brutal hover lifts, loaded with broken machinery and chunks of the mountain, down narrow roads at dangerous speeds.
Steve B HowardPublished 3 years ago in FuturismTo Follow Along Like The Rest
To Follow Along Like The Rest: On Life’s Journey John W. Gilmore Everything was quiet...very quiet. That hardly ever happened around here. I pulled back the shade and peeked from behind the curtain. The street was empty. No one was there: no cars, no buses, no dogs, no children playing. I looked down at my watch. It was only six in the evening. In this city during rush hour, which seemed to last longer and longer, this main street should have been humming with people, buses, and cars. What had happened? I only hoped it had not happened again. Why were they doing this?
Om Prakash John GilmorePublished 3 years ago in FuturismProject Moon
My heart was racing at a million per second. I could feel it in my neck and my throat and my chest. I felt like I could not breathe, and I was sweating profusely. I thought I was about to have a heart attack because the pain on my chest was so intense. Real fear was running through my veins and it made me more anxious by the minute. “What am I doing here?”, I asked myself as I tried to throw up in a paper bag they gave me, similar to the ones you find in the back pocket of the seat in front of you on a plane. I have been on a plane many times, and while I experience similar symptoms when flying, nothing could have prepared me for the panic attack I experienced when I stepped into the Merlot 2021, the rocket ship that would take 60 people, including me, in a one-way trip to the moon.
Lucia ArjonaPublished 3 years ago in FuturismCognizant.
Friday, 10:04 am. “Why is she always doing that?” Each morning for the past week, Sonny has tipped her mug of coffee over and sighed, no longer surprised that no liquid leaves the cup. Each morning she has waited an extra 10 minutes to leave for work, to see she has still beat the morning rush. Each morning I have caught her stroking her reflection in the mirror at 6:52am, 8 minutes before her alarm clock goes off.
M. MadellaPublished 3 years ago in Futurism