The base of every building in Roagnark had been replaced with holographic domes that simulated artificial sunlight. Within them were parks and walkways, complete with water fountains and benches, street lamps and trash cans, even trees and bushes. But even without my sense of touch, I could tell not a single breeze blew through and the air was simply air-conditioned. The leafs of the trees did not sway and water condensed on metal surfaces.
Sitting on the bench at the base of The Forum Technological Warehouse building, I watched as blue-collared workers walked in and out of the 'tower', the metallic front gate awkwardly placed in the middle of the dome, the building extending upwards and disappearing into the fake sky at the ring of the fifth floor.
In front of me, at the top of a spiral fountain was the Cryo-Tube. Mark One. The old tin can with its bulky built and malfunctioning doors, chromed, shined, and waxed. The bulky rice cooker from over a half a century ago. A plague at the edge of the fountain read:
THE BEGINNING OF SCIENCE
Spurred on by the revolutionary feats of
engineering and sciences made during
Project Dawn, this prototype Cryo-Tube,
which kept the Hero of the Mist alive for
the first part of his journey, now serves as a
reminder of all the miraculous inventions
based off it used in our daily lives today.
"Hey mister!" I turned to see a little girl, no taller than my stomach, standing beside me. Wearing a sky-blue, red flowered dress, dainty little white shoes and a slightly oversized sun hat, she was the poster girl of the purity of children. "Mind if I sit here?" She pointed to the empty seat beside mine.
Clover Parker had specifically instructed me not to interact with any 'man or woman' while she searched for the E.M.P bombs' location within the warehouse. So naturally, I told the little girl, "Sure thing!" With a stupid grin across my face.
The girl smiled back, teeth shining in the light. Taking off her hat, she placed the large accessory over her lap as she took the seat. Her hair, a short, smooth auburn that leaned towards red, reminded me of my daughter. I thought of Leila on the day I first got into the Cryo-Tube. Small enough to hug, young enough to be untouched by the troubles of the world. Then I looked down and saw the girl swinging her legs. Her skin-coloured, matte painted, robotic legs.
"Your arms are cool, mister!" she exclaimed. Apparently, she was eyeing my prosthetics as much as I did hers. "It's all shiny and silver, like the Mist Hero!" she spoke of me with the same reverence that kids of my time had for Santa Claus.
Kindly, I asked her, "Where are you parents?"
She pointed back towards the warehouse. "My dad forgot his bag. He's a dunderhead sometimes."
I laughed. "He sounds like a dunderhead to me."
Somehow, I had managed to strike up a conversation with the girl, for she replied, "What's your name, mister? I'm Sally!" she gave me her name, beaming with pride.
The girl was overwhelmingly trusting with a stranger like me and I worried for her a little. But something told me that her judge of character and her intellect was far beyond her years. "Sally? My grandmother was named Sally."
"Really?" she grinned. "Was she also named after the Hero's grandmother?" Somehow, my family background, down to the name of my grandparents, had become common knowledge.
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139 Years to the End of the World
कल्पित विज्ञान"My name is Milton Jones. I am one hundred and sixty-nine years old. Welcome to the end of the world." Due to a terminal illness, Milton Jones has just 15 days left to live. When the government offered to cryogenically preserve him to save the world...
