PRISON PLANET
A SCIENCE FICTION
SHORT STORY
February 9, 2007 CE
Uvalde, Texas
United States of America
clipart from Microsoft
Prison Planet
"Wait! I recognize some of those faces." My voice seems so soothing, almost unreal. In and amongst the surrounding gloom shades of familiar forms flickered and floated about. The ghost of the 20th century can be seen peering over the shoulders of humanity, a short distance from the edge, gazing into the inevitable, constantly rising vortex tide below. As links to the past try to hold safety nets fast, the unforgiving machine pounds and the cliff swiftly erodes. Tears of soft smoke can be seen through the cleansing oil rain, floating in fading spirals as the apparition wonders what would have been. The ghost to come joins the crowd, full of rue as it helplessly watches over its man-made flood, spitting absent warnings in the air, which is becoming blood thick with souls. And the weather rages on unaware, starting the end because it must act now the burden of time. And so it is, ever was, and ever shall be unless we catch the future's foreshadow buzz, which would be beyond divine.
A deafening scream rips me awake, and I find myself sweating on the bare floor, cold and alone. It must have been my own. It seems that dreams are my only connection to reality. I roll over, and then, I see him for the first time.
"Hey! . . . When did you get here?" I asked, wiping the chunks of crust out of the corners of my tired eyes. "What's your name?"
"Sumeda."
"What kind of a name is that anyway?"
"My father gave it to me."
"I am Laeila."
Nothing but silence now, hours and days and years pass. Everything has changed, but nothing is different. The date doesn't even matter any more. I just wish that something might matter again to me. At the brink of madness again, and I hear that old familiar sigh, like warm bread.
"It's been a while, stranger," I said, with the first smirk I have had in what seems forever. Despite my efforts, my voice still sounds like a raspy whisper.
"And it won't be much longer. Trust me." Sumeda replied with the same comfort and strength that always accompanied his words.
"What are the chances of this? Put together twice, I think they're slipping if you ask me. What ended up happening to you . . . after all? I suspected the worst."
"Listen carefully, Laeila. And promise to never speak of what I am about to tell you, unless you miraculously find yourself in some other place someday. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure. What is it?"
"You always were a good listener." With a tear fighting not to be freed from his eye, Sumeda crossed his legs together and clenched his right fist in his left hand. With a steady stare, his eyes dry before my eyes. His face reminds me of a black and white movie or someone I saw long ago.
"I have been to Earth. Now I have returned, and will be executed tomorrow before sunrise."
"But, wha . . ."
"Let me finish," abruptly interrupting my interruption.
"The last time you saw me was twenty three Earth months ago, on my way to the vacuum chamber to be sent into infinite oblivion in the majestic void of space. However, I escaped and stole a Galactic Interceptor. I planned that escape, within these very walls, for 33 long eons. I floated around, orbiting Earth in super stealth mode for about six weeks without detection. I knew it was only a matter of time before I gave my position away. You see, Laeila, I have something inside me that makes me different from you and any other. This is the secret you must keep; it is our only chance now, unfortunately. Such a burden should not have to be carried by one person, but I will not allow hope to die with me."
The window goes dark.
"We are not on Earth right now. We are on the "dark" side of the moon, the side which cannot be seen from Earth. Everyone in this institution is led to believe they are still on Earth. All the light you have ever seen through that opaque window has been artificial. I have been given the Sword of Truth. I am on a mission some say is impossible. The largest corporations and richest governments have collaborated to form a massive security grid completely encompassing everything from the Sun to Saturn. Originally, the complex we are in now was used as a military outpost for the United States, but that was before the nuclear holocaust. Now it is just a shell, used for storage. Essentially, you are just a product on a small shelf. The only reason they are keeping you alive is because your blood is gaining interest."
The constant unease of sensing time running out lingers heavily around us, like an intangible gloom of concentrated sorrow.
"The night before you departed, I had a dream about relics from the present. I remember as if it were fifteen minutes ago, it was on the night of June 5. I wrote:
Soldier raids, killing, brutality, wasteland.
Steal broken motor bike, get it running, escape to pure water, infiltrate futuristic school. Reservoir museum, relics from the present: radio, broom, television, microwave, engine, obsolete
The "perfect" society, youth in a line, eat well, complete discipline,
Ignorance or acceptance of outer chaos.
"Listen to me now. Hear me scream and shout aloud in this soundproof cage! Speak aloud with balls whether they are between your legs on your chest! The Sword of Truth cannot be denied. So be it."
"What happened to the world, Sumeda?"
"Would you like to hear an interesting story? Of course you would. An ancient Mayan prophecy predicted the collapse of mankind to fall December 21, 2012 of the "current era." They were right. It is amazing the power of knowledge. Simply with mastery of the natural calendar, came the ability to control the masses. Mankind's technology led to their demise; they became victims of their own being. There was a very special child born in 1997 AD, a child of prophecy. He was captured, endlessly cloned, and supposedly killed before the Great Evacuation. Only the super rich and well fortified survived, now Earth's atmosphere is too radio active for life. The chosen one's fate was to have the blood of each of the three brothers and three variations of each other. Every being has purpose, and we must do what we have to do every step of the way, and now it is time!
They have been telling all living units that they are using all of the resources available trying to nurse it back to health somehow, but the damage is supposedly irreversible. What they don't know is hidden technology and every known DNA known to man in every species of every kingdom is physically stored in a veritable Noah's Ark. I have seen it. Therein lays all the necessary components to construct an atmospheric equalizer. It is so simple it is beautiful. The ones in control profit more by keeping Earth in a constant state of shock. It's a long story. Now there are prisons on select moons and planets, storing humans. Imagine getting tagged and just being dropped off on a cold, distant planet. Most are used in various experiments involving rapidizing evolution. Now listen carefully, I have the key that can save Earth. I can bring her back alive. It has been said, it shall be done."
Sumeda smiled, and he whispered! "CON GANAS!"
The window becomes light again.
"There is hope, my child. I am part of an intergalactic organization known to some as the Agents of Chaos. We have been working together, forming an underground allegiance of select members, in hopes of freeing all the wrongfully imprisoned people in the galaxy and restoring life to our Mother Earth. People are ignorantly living in individual pods that provide their every need. They can eat, sleep, exercise, and work from the same place. Products are delivered directly to their hands. They are free to do whatever they want in their pods. They can use the money they earn to order any drug they want. It is all legal. Only small increments of time are allotted for social activities and physical human interaction. They are guaranteed safety in exchange for their voice and ability to vote. The Hybros are war mongers, acting as vicious guardians from the other races of intelligent beings who feel threatened now because of the rapid rate of our industrial expansion. Any new materials found immediately become the most enviable materials to build with. My band of triple agent assassins keeps them from abusing their evil power."
Sumeda stands up straight and puts his shades on with his left hand. The door opens, and the Hybros take him away just as quickly as he came. I can't stand this anymore. What has become of me? I want to speak! I wonder if I will ever see him again. As the light slowly dims again, the vents kick on, sending a rush of cold air around me. Time to go back to sleep.
In my dream I am sleeping. I am reading a book. The dream was of the endas ruled by violent beasts. I was reading a book when I woke up. A few paragraphs centered on the left, blank page to the right, each crisp word fading as I called its name. The last line of dialogue yelled at me, "Wake up, CON!" and so I did. It's breakfast time, fed by pigs.