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”.
Guerilla Island
Day 38. The year? Don't know, although I can assume it's within the near future. Still don't understand how the hell I got here and where exactly on the planet this island is located. If we're even still on Earth for that matter. This may as well be the jungle. I woke up early this morning for the fresh catch. I was a good day, caught ten of em. Never seen this fish before but they look bomb.
By Ace Howell3 years ago in Futurism
Infinite Betrayal
Jason wiped the tears from his face, then pressed the lever. “Here we go Sparky” Jason muttered to his dog, as he sent the ship tunneling through space-time. Blinding light shone into the cabin when the ship crested the event horizon and traveled down the dark and light spiraling bands of matter and anti-matter that twisted like a tornado before him.
By 3 years ago in Futurism
Notes on a Toxic Jungle
April 1, 2022 (maybe) What do you write in a journal during the apocalypse? My name is Sarah Peterson, and I am alive and it’s the apocalypse. I guess I could tell you about my degree and my job and all that, but it just seems silly. None of that stuff matters anymore. Right, now that that’s out of the way I guess I’ll start at the beginning of this whole fiasco.
By Katie L. Oswald (BookDragon)3 years ago in Futurism
Encounter at Apollo
EOE Apollo Archive Station, high orbit over planet Ares-560. July 19th, 2205 A large, red-colored gas giant hovered silently in the endless vacuum of space, easily dwarfing a twenty mile-wide, silver, multi-sectioned space station floating high above its atmosphere. Standing in a dark hallway within the station and looking down at the planet through a window was a young man with black hair. A name tag on a gray jacket he was holding in his hand said, “Lt. Benjamin Hall”, and he looked at the planet below with a fierce stare on his face, as through the gaseous world was his to control. He didn’t want to control it, however, despite being told that he did want to his entire life.
By N.J. Folsom3 years ago in Futurism
Number Four
Out of breath, tired, covered in sweat and limping from a recent fall, Number Four makes its way just over the hill and into a small ravine. The sound of barking dogs not far behind, as the mob of guards and security personnel rush after the escaped prisoner. The moon above providing just enough light to give some color to the night sky. Branches broken, bushes pushed aside, the rustling of the leaves creating noise for the pursuers to follow, as Number Four comes upon a rushing river.
By David Djr Roberts3 years ago in Futurism
Forty Days of Ignorance
It wasn't meant to be civilised. For forty days that statement rolled around in my brain. My mission was specifically to investigate the inhabitability of Wylke-27. So far outside of Directorate jurisdiction, and with no previously recorded visits, could it be that the unarguably humanoid population were the result of evolution independent to that on Earth? The likelihood of that... well, I was an ecologist not a biologist or mathematician, but I knew well enough that the likelihood was minute.
By Eriko Jane3 years ago in Futurism
The Future is Here...
1. Mushroom Clouds The waterfalls are thunderous; the birds are chirping wildly, flying back and forth from tree to tree. A small group of people from the tribe are sitting on top of the nearby rocks near the beach. The trees start to shake; the grounds shift violently, there is a loud boom heard in the distant. The waterfalls stop, the birds go silent. The people blankly staring where the waterfalls were, the birds quiet down, the waterfalls completely stop there are minutes of silence. Kombaat mutters, “It has begun!” He yells at everyone to “Run.” Kombaat runs behind everyone up the trail. They get to the village; the tribe people are running out from their homes. Kombaat yelling, “Run, Run, get to the Cave.” Everyone from the tribe run towards the cave. Another Boom echoes through the canyon, looking down the canyon they can see a wall of water coming down towards the village. Kombaat yells from the mouth of the cave at the last of tribe people running towards the cave, “Run, Run!” The water crashes wildly past the mouth of the cave. The Cave door closes. The cave starts to shake, 1000ft of the cave rises as boulders, dirt, start falling off it. As the cave rises, the canyon fills with water. Fireballs are falling from the sky. There are plumes of mushroom clouds in the distance.
By Daniel Rodriquez3 years ago in Futurism
affreux Survivante
The below seems to be a stream of consciousness that was fired across the cosmos from a distant planet, that orbited a distant star, moments before that planet was partially destroyed. From what we are able to observe of that far off region of space, it seems a planet that was once capable of supporting life now exists as a cluster of rocks orbiting a star that once gave that planet warmth and light, gave it life. The below message was unusually transmitted as pure energy, that is to say it was attached to particles of light rather than a radio wave. Take this as an oversimplified explanation, imagine a small star or ball of light racing through the universe like an asteroid rather than a wave and you’ll have an idea how we first observed the travelling ball of energy. It was the unusual nature of that light travelling through the universe that drew our attention to it. It would take us many years to find the message attached to the photons and many more years to roughly translate it. The below is a loose translation, we do not know much about the world it originated from or what that world looked like. We do not know if the life on that planet was hominid-like, though the message seems to indicate that life on that planet evolved down a similar route as our own. We do not know what trees or guns would have looked like or if their version of a “farmhouse” is similar to our own, we have simply used our imagination to attach meanings and concepts as we understand them to a completely alien message. Specific names, such as the names of tribes or locations, of course cannot be translated. It also seems that the message was not sent through a deliberate process but was instead the anguished cry across the cosmos of a life form in pain, suffering and likely dying. How any of this is possible is beyond our current understanding of the laws of physics.
By Jamie Stirling3 years ago in Futurism
The Last Girl
It was March of 2022. Humans were wiped out on the planet Earth due to the D-Virus. It has been six months since the D-Virus emerged and became the deadliest virus known to man. The virus was extremely airborne, and a fleshing-eating disease was caused by this deadly virus. As a result, the human body would experience severe deterioration. Once infected, a fever would be the first symptom to experience. Followed by painful paroxysmal coughs, vomiting, and then fatigue. Within a weak, the tissue would slowly be destroyed under the skin. A human would have only a few weeks to survive. By that time, the spread of the deterioration would lead to the infected turning into skeletons. Unfortunately, there was no cure. A cure was not created in time to prevent the termination of the human race. Majority knew that there was no cure and that their close death was inevitable. Some would position themselves next to their loved ones on beds and couches when they felt that their organs were slowly shutting down. It was their way to have family and friends die together. Others would end their lives before their physical conditions worsen. Some would even move themselves to the ocean in order for their skeletal remains to hide deeper in the sea. In addition to that, animals were immune to the virus.
By Leona Valentine3 years ago in Futurism
Cheery Little Monochrome World
Daniel's stomach folded twice over upon itself as the subway train squirmed through the network of uniform concrete veins that ran beneath the city streets. It wasn't that the ride was a rough one – transportation services were excellent in whatever city this was (the name eluded him for the moment but the subway was good anywhere you went). The teal interior walls were cleanly scrubbed, the comfort filters doing superb work in cleansing the air of the aromas of perspiration, fast food, and cigarette smoke. It was enough to make one feel sorry for the drivers on the streets above whose own personal vehicles – produced as they were by dinosaur companies that yet resisted the call of rationality – had no similar guarantee of sanitation and comfort. No, if there was anything tightening the vise on Daniel's gut, it was internal – jet lag, exhaustion, stress, all the unpleasant hallmarks of an otherwise prestigious position. Experience had not yet gifted him with a tolerance for the mental and physical rigors of constant travel.
By Andrew Johnston3 years ago in Futurism