Warped History

Speeding through downtown Seattle on the maglev train, Sophia noticed not only the diversity of the population but the growth of the city as well. In the early part of the twenty-first century, Seattle was struggling to shed its image as a coffee bean hippie mecca and attract more of the tech market, in particular the space geeks. Glancing around the sleek but inviting train interior, it seems like the city planners got it right. Ever since the US got to Mars, the Emerald City exploded, bringing the space program and its requisite engineers with it. Sophia was part of that migration, leaving the sultry steamy Florida everglades for the cold but cool Seattle skyline.

Catching glimpses of the holographic ads for plastic surgery, weight loss, and internal phone devices, an image of Miami suddenly entranced her. Bulging with refugees from the most recent Russian conflict, it was now more Slavic than American, warming her heart as her father had emigrated from Bulgaria. Lost in thought, she nearly missed her stop had it not been for the embedded cranial alarm that displayed the station stop in front of her line of vision. Grabbing her tablet and shoving it back into her bag, she exited the train, along with other commuters to head to her gig as an aeronautics engineer, lost in thought about her friends and what trouble they were likely to get into later.

Chatting excitedly on the transport beltway to her favorite club The Beat in downtown Miami, Sophia and her friends Carol and Olivia plotted their evening.

“Let’s not let the first guy we see spoil our evening. Right, Olivia?” Both of them giving her a mock evil eye. “Cmon, admit it, he was handsome. But OK, I’ll learn to control myself. This time.” Hugging Sophia, “because our girl here just got her Ph.D. in aeronautical engineering. First in the family to go all the way to the top. I wouldn’t DREAM of ruining that.” Following the growing crowd that was funneling into the entertainment district, they all checked their ID and payment implants before entering The Beat. Stopping at the entrance to the bar for their scans, the ladies eagerly stepped into the crowded bar for what was to become a most eventful evening.

Heading to the bar, Sophia ordered a white wine, and grabbing her friend’s hands, she maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people to grab a small black high-top table near the back.

“Where’s Olivia? She was right here a minute ago. I’m going to head out to the back and see if I can find her.” Pushing through the crowd, searching for Olivia’s blue hair, she thought she spotted her near the men’s room. As she got closer and put her hand on her back, only to realize it was a man. Anxiety rising in her belly, Sophia circled the dance floor and head outside, Olivia had a habit of finding bad boys and into tangled situations. As she rounded the corner and pushed through the back door, unprepared for the torrential downpour. Dripping now from head to toe, searching for the overhead cover button on the building’s facade, she glimpsed Olivia’s blue locks. Picking up the pace just in time to see her friend dragged through the rain by the hand by one of the blockhead guys in the bar.

“Hey let her go now NOW!” Without even enough time to turn, Sophia launched a right hook that landed on his jaw. Jarred and angry, he turned to grab her and she connected with a high kick to his windpipe. Gasping for breath, he attempted a gut punch, but Sophia countered with a block and an uppercut jab combo that knocked out few teeth. Finishing with a powerful kick to the belly, pushing him into a glass advertising kiosk, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. Rushing over to a cowering Olivia, Sophia grabbed her friend and held her close.

Falling into Sophia’s arms, Olivia soaked her shirt with her sobbing.

“Cmon. We need to call the police.” Settling Olivia on a dry bench while she called 911 from her wrist implant. “They should be here in a few minutes”. Sitting down next to Olivia, Sophia began consoling her. Eventually calming down, and looking over at the downed and bloodied muscle man in the corner, Olivia blurted: “How?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never, I mean. I still don’t understand it. It’s like I was a different person watching from inside a dream.” She wiped off the dirt and blood from her hands and feet to get ready for the litany of questions from the cops. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d be facing the wrath of her father at dinner on Saturday. Once the police arrived, questioning her, Olivia, the bartenders, and anyone else that was a witness, she and Olivia were free to find Carol, and head home. Wiped out from the fear and adrenaline, Sophia was out cold before her head even hit the pillow.

Sophia wasn’t even at the door of her parent’s house before her father bellowed from the kitchen, “What were you thinking? One minute an engineer, the next some sort of ninja warrior??” Dreading the impending conversation, she took her time heading through the large, open living space into the kitchen to face her father. As usual, space was gleaming from all the cleaning and scrubbing he’d done, and the smell of meat and onions made her forget all about the last few days. Sitting on one of the high stools perched under the white marble countertop, she prepped herself for the onslaught.

“How was your flight?” George Bornescu at first glance was an imposing man. Most would compare him to a cross between a swimmer and a rugby player. Years in the construction business in the Florida sun had tightened and strengthened him, and Sophia still had a sense of fear and respect for her father.

“It was great. With the new injections and the advances in aerodynamics, it feels like five minutes instead of the usual hours. And no jet lag. It's something I’ve been working on in Seattle, we have-" cutting her off abruptly with a wave of his hand. “Ok, enough. Why did you do it?”

“Poppa, she’s my best friend and honestly, I don’t even know how it happened. One minute we’re at the club, the next I’m punching and kicking like an MMA champion. No idea where it came from.”

“Well, I know. And I’m going to show you. Your mother, God rest her soul, never wanted me to tell you, and I wish I hadn’t listened.” Covering the pot of simmering meat, he touched the large black information panel embedded in the countertop. What appeared next was a family tree from Ancestry.com and as Sophia got closer, she realized that not only it goes back as far as 800AD, but that some links were bright red and others were a more subdued black.

Poking at the LED tree, tracing the branches, the questions started. “What does it all mean?”

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