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”.
Cycle of the Unicorn
Every footstep in the snow compresses with a familiar, irregular abrasive sound. The world was coming into focus, and in all directions, nothing but white. I feel a warm, wet sensation on my forehead. It trickles down to my eyelash, and I bow my head. The whiteness of the world is stained red as my blood falls. The drops are covered by more snow as I walk.
By H.G. Silvia2 years ago in Futurism
Unnatural Selection
A billion-billion nopes. After forty cycles of searching the cosmos, I have only ever found wretched deadly, lifeless rocks or beautiful, verdant planets that are already inhabited. At a certain point, an evolutionary leap happens, and sentient life emerges. We have rules against meddling with that eventuality, and the council takes them quite seriously. We live in space, and it’s hard to remain optimistic in a vacuum.
By H.G. Silvia2 years ago in Futurism
RESTORE
I sat at the cramped dinette of our tiny apartment and tried to remember the last time we had actual food. Synthetic cinnamon soy protein. Real cinnamon’s reserved for the uber-rich. Only ‘Synthamon’ for us. I’m old enough to remember real cinnamon. I miss real food.
By H.G. Silvia2 years ago in Futurism
The Trans-Europa
Beyond the cracked sidewalk, and the telephone pole with layers of flyers in a rainbow of colors, and the patch of dry brown grass there stood a ten-foot-high concrete block wall, caked with dozens of coats of paint. There was a small shrine at the foot of it, with burnt-out candles and dead flowers and a few soggy teddy bears. One word of graffiti-filled the wall, red letters on a gold background: Rejoice!
By H.G. Silvia2 years ago in Futurism
"Ring me up, Dante!"
“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley,” Andante read. His cadence fought between sounding like a piece of renowned literature and an oxymoron. “There were Phoenix” Azure finished. The two brothers looked at each other. It dawned on them that they had possibly found something incredibly sinister. A morse code only understood by the inhabitants of Jupiter. “Can you two bird brains, stop gawking at each other and move with some sense of urgency?” A tall man walked by them, his steps along the palace floor were graceful, yet displayed reluctance. Andante pulled his younger brother by the forearm just short of where the tattooed phrase “THEY WERE PHOENIX” rested in fancy Jupiterian calligraphy. He tailed after the handsome man keeping a vice grip on the sudden revelation. His gaze focused through the ceiling-high windows of the long corridor at the city, all the while making sure he didn’t fall behind. The eternal tempest in the Jupiterian skies roared as loud as usual at this time of Sol. From the farthest reach of their planet, the Jupiterians congregated by the millions in the sky of the capital, overshadowing the sounds of their very planet with their impatience and small talk. Flashes of blue, and white lightning lit up the sky, seemingly to have its own free will. They called them “Dragons.” It surged in and out through the haze and gas the planet emitted and acted as a gate to the innermost cities of Jupiter. Unlike Gaia’s white mist known as clouds, the haze enshrouding this planet are eternal catastrophes. Hurricanes, ice storms, and the most violent dragons flashing in the blink of an eye. The temperatures could freeze the grandest of asteroids should one ever threaten the magnificent royal capital, Lionheart. A blanket of soft red light fell upon a quarter of the planet, signifying nightfall had begun in some part of the world. The moon alternated each night, this night, the moonlight that covered that part of the planet was Io. It became more apparent the dragons were being pulled to an area in the sky where the palace sat in the center of the planet, although no one in the crowd took any particular notice. The brothers hadn't realized the man had disappeared. At the end of the corridor stood two designated exits on opposite ends that read "AZURE" and "ANDANTE", just short of a beautiful throne room and a grand terrace further down the hall. The brothers looked at each other. "Time to ride the dragons," Azure remarked and they fell backward outside. Almost immediately, the lightning struck them zapping their bodies leaving not a trace of stardust. A bolt of magnificent lightning struck the palace in a blinding light, fading momentarily. The dragons and the Jupiterians fell silent. The ceremony had begun.
By Nirvanhai Elixir O'Raahikojo2 years ago in Futurism
Throw Away Your Old Phone
Two of my favorite writers recently inspired me on Medium. In January, Cory Doctorow shared his essay about how the Luddites were forerunners of science fiction writers. The Luddites were artisanal weavers known for burning mills and resisting the Industrial Revolution. In my college years, I considered myself an Earth First neo-Luddite, so his essay caught my eye. Doctorow argues that it wasn’t the machines that they hated, but the consequences of the way the machines are used. Luddites could imagine the future, and their movement was an act of resistance to that future. In that sense, Luddites were like today’s science fiction authors; when we imagine the future, it is not about the machines per se, but rather about the moral choices caused by the introduction of those machines.
By Andrew Gaertner2 years ago in Futurism
To Kill a God
“Have you ever seen one before? A human?” “No.” “ I've only heard the legends.” Davin heard from two gawking onlookers as he was walking on lux-43, the 5th planet in the lombx system. He smiled to himself, he loved the agape mouths and awestruck bystanders he got when he decided to take to the streets. Humans were a rarity, an enigma that even the most well versed traveler usually never saw. This fascination was due to more than just the simple sparseness of the ancient race however. Humans were the epitome of a warrior race, every child in every solar system had heard tales of the fearsomeness, courage, strength, and endurance of humans. Living on earth for so long had molded these mythical creatures to become the peak of sentience. The high gravity sculpting their muscles, making the athletic prowess of them next to god-like. The many diseases and illnesses harbored there had made them effectively immune to all biological ailments. All features of earth had tailored these beings into the unstoppable killing machines that caused fear to all races across all lands for generations.
By brant paxman2 years ago in Futurism
The Year 2200
I have never seen a tree, a blade of grass, the ocean or even a mountain. The country side only exists in old adventure movies and fantasy books. Cities of endless concrete and chrome range across the United States of America and I live right in the center of New York.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Futurism