I never wanted to do this. Time travel I mean. Nothing fun about it. “They” expected everything to be perfect. And I guess in some peoples eyes it is. There is barely any crime. Kids are smart. But there is just something…off about it all. I’ve been here for over a year and I still haven’t been able to place my finger on it. Something is rotten here and I intend to find out what it is.
A small robot wheels over to me and smiles. God, their smiles creep me right the hell out. I hand it a large sheet that looks like foil. If you saw it on the street you’d think it was trash. First off, there’s no trash on the street. Second, this is a months worth of work on this sheet. I hand it to the robot and it smiles.
“THANK YOU, ROD!” it shouts at me. I stare at it until it rolls away. I try not to ever speak to my co-workers, let alone these things. I press a small button on my desk and another sheet is spit out. I lay my hand on top of it and it begins to glow. I remove my hand and my palm print is visible. A small hologram of myself appears and waves to me. I don’t wave back. Everything I have to do for the next month appears on the sheet.
I never should’ve let them talk me into this shit. “It’s the future! Think of how exciting that’ll be!” 2260 was shit and I assumed that 2377 would be worse. I was right. I was actually looking forward to the end of the world at one point. New Year’s Eve 2376 a small group of people thought the world was gonna end. It didn’t. Not even a light flickered off. And if it did a small robot would’ve fixed it before you even noticed. Shouting snaps me out of my brooding.
Oh, no. Not today!
“HAPPY BIRTHYEAR, ROD!!!” my co-workers scream at me. My, God. Is it my birthday? I stopped caring a while ago. “HAPPY BIRTHYEAR TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHYEAR TO YOU! HAPPY B--” They stopped saying “Happy BirthDAY” about a century ago. Made people feel unimportant with the whole having only one day to celebrate your birth.
“Uh…thanks” I mumble. They shower me with streamers and leave quietly. Not real streamers. That would be wasteful. Its all holographic images. I need to have sex. I know that came out of nowhere but its true. That’s one thing that doesn’t exist anymore. The truth. Everyone is scared to speak it. No. They’re not scared. They don’t know any better. Yeah, so I really need to get laid. There’s nothing to care about disease wise. AIDS died out in 2105. One day I’ll tell you how they cured it. You’d never sleep comfortably ever again.
Sex in 2377 is very sterile. There’s no bars anymore. No one night stands. No alcohol. Let me repeat that. No. Alcohol. At all. So how do people meet? The Gate. Think of what they used to call the Internet, which became the Net, which became the Landscape, which became the Zone, which eventually became The Gate. From anywhere you can talk to anyone anywhere on the planet but clicking a button in your wrist. These are given at birth. You have no choice or say in the matter. Its how “They” set it up.
A co-worker whose name I can never recall walks by. She’s wearing metallic golden pants and a matching top. Its like she sprayed her body with gold. Nothing is left to the imagination. She drops her sheet and bends over in front of me to retrieve it. I can see Heaven.
Here comes the gas.
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