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”.
Lives of Future-Past Chapters 2 & 3
Chapter Two Draagh "Lord Draagh, it appears all is going according to plan." An older, robed gentleman, possessing a medium-length beard with a long mustache stylishly braided within responded, saying, "Yes, Socrates. So far, that is."
By Steve Benton8 years ago in Futurism
Lives of Future-Past Ch. 1
In the Beginning The planet known as Earth provides a rich history, dissimilar from the billions upon billions of inhabited worlds in the visible universe. While most cultures were quickly discovered and nurtured throughout their difficult beginnings by their older intergalactic brothers, Earth stood alone, on the edge of Orion, a minor spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, watched by those of immense power who nearly always chose a path of non-interference. These beings, the Prīmulī, would analyze all from their timeless dimension, known as The Hub, from which all time/space emanated. They were patient, as they held the secrets of the universe in their hands and had all eternity in which to wait.
By Steve Benton8 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #37
Blood on these hands. How long has it been now since we started all this? Years. Years and years. Too long for any one person to stand, too long for the people to have to cope, but we carry on all the same. The fight eternal. We warriors, it is what we do, but at the sake of what?
By Brutalist Stories8 years ago in Futurism
Outrun Stories #37
A partnership born out of necessity rather than convenience. I hated him, he hated me, but we seemed to get the job done, somehow. We’d make it out of whatever job we’d gotten ourselves into, and you know, sometimes we’d even make a little bit of money. Not this time.
By Outrun Stories8 years ago in Futurism
Chronicles of Captain Chromium
One Paris night, in 1798, a young boy was born. The baby did not come out crying, but he came out laughing. The baby was born with pale gray skin and vivid fiery red hair. From the moment he was born, his father, Nicholas Louis Vauquelin, knew he was special.
By Elizabeth Harris8 years ago in Futurism
Under the Clouds
I was surrounded in black smoke. I was suffocating, choking on the ash that fell from the black clouds like acid rain. My clothes were covered in soot as I continued down the blackened street, coughing up the polluted oxygen that stuck in the air like thick fog. If a doctor checked me out and looked into my mouth, he’d probably see swollen and red tissue that makes up my throat. Mentally cursing myself for forgetting my oxygen mask at home, I hurried down the charcoal sidewalk, squeezing my way through a crowd of rowdy teenagers as they screamed and hollered at each other over some petty incident. Making my way through the crowd, I briskly walked the few steps to the bus stop, glancing around me at the many skyscrapers that were drenched in black snow. Downtown Indova was the worst part of the city. The pollution was the worst here, always choking someone on the street until they could breathe no more, and they would fall dead onto the black concrete. No one would pay any mind to the victim; he’d either get stepped over or ran over by a car before the Emergency Officials actually came and picked him up. There was no grass on the ground either, or at least, no grass visible to the human eye. The entire ground was hidden in darkness, covered in ash, soot, chemicals, and any other pollutants that are quickly killing Indova’s population. The Indova Hospital was overflowing with sick patients, citizens on the verge of death from breathing in toxins and poisoned oxygen.
By JaTori Honora8 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #36
The memory of a memory of a memory. What am I supposed to be remembering here? This thing they’re trying to get from me, right? I’m here to try to help them? Are they asking me or telling me? There’s something that’s occurred at some point in this time, in this life, but so much has gone on, so much as passed? What part of it do they want, what part of me are they looking for? How will it help them?
By Brutalist Stories8 years ago in Futurism
The Robo-witch 3
I run from out of the camp. While doing so, I notice various lights surrounding the near dark area. They seem like they’re trying their hardest to light up the easiest of areas...they’re trying hard, but their efforts are unnoticed. Everyone is now inside with their houses, using the diamond of a rock. Pieces of the rock flow around the area with the snow, changing the way I operate slightly. I progress over the hill, at a casual rate. The witch gave up after she saw me leave. I have a feeling she knows I'll be back....
By Vincent Carre8 years ago in Futurism
The Robo-witch Part 2
As I face the witch, I move in a little closer so I can show her something that matters deeply to me and should matter to her. Her brain is fast, her knowledge is vast. I project my own illusion of one of the times we’ve shared. As she studies the image, she's in awe. A tear falls from her eye. Her face transforms to craziness, then she's back to herself… her stomach rumbles…I see, angelic signs all around me. She’s presenting herself as symbols that I understand well (I remember during my birthday she gave me different gifts). They all were symbolic to me in different ways—so I studied each one well. They're kept within the brain, the weakness of the witch; her blueprints to the witch's self-destruction. I may only separate the angel from the witch with them. They're one of the pieces to defeat her, as I see multiple symbols throughout the room. I then hear her whispers from the abyss.
By Vincent Carre8 years ago in Futurism
Pursuit of the Robo-witch
I pursue the queen-witch on the ocean nearby, taking the small boat she left laying around. I quickly bring the boat towards the waters and start the engine. The motor is struggling to start during this fierce storm—Black clouds, fierce drippings of water in the sky, the sun out of sight... An hour into the journey, the witch begins to lose my view.
By Vincent Carre8 years ago in Futurism
Nathan's Little 'Bots
Nathan studied the building plans again, shook his head, and smiled. "You really can find anything on the web," he thought as he scrolled from page to page. There were the electrical, plumbing, security, and structural plans—complete with detailed measurements. Nathan spent considerable time with the floor plans, memorizing as much detail as possible. This would be his biggest project yet and he wanted to collect as much information as he could before proceeding.
By Paul Burns8 years ago in Futurism
