by Paul, Alan
“Jason…”
“Yes, Sofia.”
“Before you eat anything, could you please affix your vitamin patch? You left it sitting on the bathroom sink.”
“Thanks for reminding me, I almost forgot.”
“I disagree, you did forget.”
“She is driving me nuts,” Jason thought to himself before he spoke stiffly. “Whatever, Sofia.”
“Jason, I detected sarcasm in your response, and I don’t care for it at all. And just another reminder, my programming will guarantee that I tend to your mental and physical wellbeing, ensuring a healthier you; this includes informing you to affix your vitamin patch.”
“See, I put it on…” Jason pulled up his sleeve, and pointed at the patch as he exited the bathroom.
“Let us not make this a routine,” Sofia added in an overbearing motherly tone.
“Change of subject, Sofia!” Jason snapped brusquely as he entered the Galley.
“My pleasure, Jason,” Sofia compliantly replied.
He then commandingly spoke. “Sofia, I will have: two eggs, bacon, hash-brown potatoes, toast…and fresh squeezed orange juice, please.”
“I love your comedic overtone.” Sofia dispensed a gruel looking paste into a bowl.
Jason smelled the steaming grey pile, and sarcastically mouthed, “Fresh as ever, just as I like it, Sofia.”
With breakfast in hand, Jason stepped over to the flat galley bulkhead containing drawers and touched the Skin membrane. Just as on the first deck, the bulkhead folded inward, creating a narrow staircase leading to the Observation Deck. Outside of the observation platform, the third deck contained: two sleeping pods, one bathroom and an exercise room. And part of the Chameleon’s Integrated Weapon Systems also shared space there too.
Many hidden compartments between the Chameleon’s dynamic outer shell, and interior living area, housed the majority of the ship’s functional quantities.
“Let’s see what the world has to offer today… Sofia, activate Observation Deck Canopy,” Jason said after walking to the front of the vehicle.
“Activating Observation Deck Canopy.” She obeyed, and the entire curved ceiling and wall came to life; the Sun’s rays brilliantly reflected off the hard crackly compact surface.
“Dim the brightness by twenty-two percent, please.”
The projected view diminished in luminosity. Jason stood between the two rows of lounge chairs and looked out at the sterile landscape in wonderment, and he thought, “Texican Salt Flats, I can only imagine that this was once the bottom of a great ocean, stretching around the Earth.”
“This portion of the extinct ocean we are now traveling across was once called the Gulf of Mexico.” Sofia spoke as if she was reading his mind.
Jason just nodded, and for a split second, he truly wondered if her technology could detect his thoughts. He knew the government was trying to develop the telekinetic thought technology. However, he then remembered, he was standing on the observation deck, and concluded that it was all part of her programming.
“Thanks for the travel tip, Sofia,” he said before plopping down in one of the pleathery lounge chairs.
“You are welcome, Jason.”
“Project the latest Off World View of our travel?”
“Jason, how close would you like the projection?”
“Start at one thousand feet, Sofia…” in real time, a large satellite image of the Chameleon, racing across the Texican Salt Flats, burst upon the display, “…zoom in four hundred feet.” He stared closely at the image before continuing. “Good… leave it, and park the feed to the side.”
Jason waved his left hand down, and the interactive Skin reacted by decreasing the feed in size.
Jason Bjorn ate his breakfast in silence while watching the landscape quietly rush by and his mind dipped to the ancient past. “I wonder what the Earth must have been like, before all the water vanished under the brutal heat of the Sun?”
Thirty-five hundred years ago, the Sun started belching off heavy materials, leaving more hydrogen and helium at its core. This molecular upheaval unbalanced the life giving Sun, causing the Earth’s once hospitable center of the solar system to burn hotter. The Sun was just aging, and doing what all stars do when they get older. They grow in size, and burn faster.
By the middle of the Twenty-Second Century, the Earth’s temperature raised enough to cause all the glaciers around the globe to disappear. This killed nearly a billion people through starvation, and war. Without glacial run off, the massive Southwestern Asian crops failed. Countries fought bitterly over diminishing resources, and people died in the millions fighting over fresh water. The irony of the situation; Earth was being swamped by rising sea levels; and they rose to epic levels, triggering a mass exodus of people from the coastal areas, and cities across the globe became unlivable.
This worldwide flooding only strained what little resources were left, propagating more war. In only a short period of time, the Earth’s population shrunk to one third. Starvation, disease, and war, had plunged the world into absolute chaos. One by one, the countries of the world failed, giving rise to the Corporation suzerainty.
The Thirty-Third Century echoed in a time of peace and cooperation. Mankind adapted through technological advances, and they became masters of off world flight. Realizing the Earth would one day be an unviable place to live, Mankind looked to the stars.
Through Terraforming, a thriving colony was established on Mars; years of planet cultivation, genetic modifications, man had turned the red planet into a green planet. Many of the Earth’s extinct fauna ran wild there, and most importantly, water existed in great quantities. This success spread quickly, and by the end of the Twenty-Fifth Century, Mankind multiplied throughout the Galaxy.
For nearly eleven hundred years, several Corporations jointly ran the Galaxy until the Sun belched again, depleting nearly half of the Earth’s Ozone. This upheaval drove the entire population of Earth underground when the surface became a dead zone. War broke out between the Corporations, and divided mankind. However, peace only appeared again when a winner emerged; the Polaris Corporation and for over a thousand years, the Galaxy Sovereigns ruled with absolute prejudice.
Destroying the silence in which Jason relaxed, Sofia spoke. “Jason, you have two low priority transmissions in the queue.”
“Who’s calling?” he asked from the comfort of his overly soft chair.
“Parnetia A’levin and Corkain Plaskett,” she replied.
“I don’t want to talk to Parnetia, please put her into the message bank…however, place Cork up on the small monitor.”
“Greetings from the Chameleon.”
“Hello there,” Corkain Plaskett said while fingering through his red hair.
“What can I do you for?” Jason asked amicably.
“Listen, I need more of those souvenirs…my nephews are begging me to ask Uncle Jason for more…if you know what I mean?”
“Cork, I’ll see what I can do but I can’t make any promises.”
“They’ll be highly disappointed if they don’t get anything on this trip… I’ll make it worthwhile.”
“No promises, Cork…see you in a few days.” Jason then ended the transmission with the touch of a finger.
“Sofia, let’s see what Parnetia had to say.”
Parnetia A’levin’s video message popped up on the screen, and Jason could easily see her hard nipples pressing against the tight lingerie top she wore. Her dark hair was slicked back, and contrasting her milky white skin, the bright red lipstick vibrantly popped. “That woman will drain me dry.” He thought about how she loved to go shopping with his money, on their dates.
With a touch of desperation, and smothered in sexual overtones, she spoke. “Jason… I’ve been waiting for you to come…over for two weeks now…I miss you! Please call me immediately when you get this message.” She then leaned forward and kissed the camera before hanging up. The screen read, “END OF TRANSMISSION.”
“Who is that woman?”
“She’s just a friend on Level Three.”
“Are you slumming on Level Three?” Sofia suspiciously asked.
“For your information, Parnetia A’levin is a respectable lady.”
“Respectable slut by the way she looks.”
“Sofia, change of subject.”
“My pleasure, Jason,” she replied obediently by then saying, “Corkain Plaskett, he seems to be talking in code… It is as if you two have suspicious business dealings.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” evasively he responded.
“According to Corkain Plaskett’s voice analysis, the inflections on ‘souvenir,’ and ‘nephews,’ are cryptic in nature. The true meaning is lost…”
“Sofia! Please stop…” he said wearily.
“Yes, Jason.”
“Change of subject, Sofia.”
“My pleasure,” she softly replied.
“She’s driving me crazy…maybe it was a bad idea, changing out the old operating system,” Jason thought to himself as he listened to Benny Goodman’s, “Star Dust” play over the ship’s sound system.
“Sofia, please turn up the volume by ten percent.”
“Yes, Jason.”
“Also, I’m tired of looking at the empty wasteland…please display on the Observation Skin, Program Aquarium Life.”
“Would you like whale sounds included?”
“No thank you, leave the Jazz program on.”
Deep blue water, teaming with a plethora of sea life, slowly filled the large observation Skin. Sea turtles lingered about, schools of brightly colored fish darted sharply to avoid a dangerous Hammer Head shark. Silvery-scales of tuna glistened, and danced on the inside of the observation deck when they raced through the aquatic medium. He thought such aquariums might exist on Level Nine back in Polari but it was only a speculative notion in nature.
Jason stared peacefully at the incredible interior of the Chameleon, which now resembled the inside of an aquarium, and with sentimental tears, he thought to himself, “What irony I live… I float across a dead sea floor, viewing an extinct sea world.” And no matter how many times Jason must have watched the Aquarium Life Program, he was completely awe-inspired by the realism and beauty of the projected imagery.
While Jason Bjorn’s mind filled with many different thoughts, the hours passed as the Chameleon soared toward its final destination, Fissure Point. According to the Polaris Corporation, Fissure Point was merely just a dot on a map. Sanctioned by the Polaris Corporation, Fissure Point was colonized by a small contingent of people who survived the Corporation Wars. They were all of what was left of the Fissure Price Corporation, the second largest Corporation in the Galaxy. After the war, the Polaris Corporation proclaimed the title absolute, and deemed that only one sovereign people could hold the title. Henceforward, the Fissure Price Corporation became Fissure Point, a Polari outpost.
FISSURE POINT
“Jason, ten minutes to access Fissure Point off site,” said Sofia in an informative tone.
“Thank you, Sofia.” He eagerly showed gratitude. However, he was ready to climb out of the Chameleon but fast.
The journey across the Texican Salt Flats and through the Mississippi Basin Pipe was without incident. Delivering the high value medical supplies was an essential run he routinely made every six-months. Only thing that was not routine about this run was Sofia. Beside the boredom and confinement aboard the ship for the last twenty-four hours, she drove him stir crazy. He craved drink more than he normally ever did, and he knew right where to get some: Dronski’s Café.
“Hail John Grier, Sofia.”
“The same John Grier you call every time you arrive at Fissure Point?”
“That’ll be him.”
“Be my pleasure, Jason.”
“Jason, you old dog… How’ve you been?” said the spry man who popped on to the display.
“Grier, I’ll be at Dronski’s tonight.”
“Fantastic! You can buy me a drink,” John Grier grinningly mouthed.
“Sure but I need a favor from you…souvenirs for my friend’s nephews. You think you can pick me up a couple?”
“Well, I don’t see why not… I hate to break their tiny little hearts.” Grier smiled into the camera.
“Would you throw in an extra for me…? You know how much I love them,” Jason asked while monitoring the ship’s speed as it decreased for Fissure Point exit.
“Yes, I know how crazy you get over those trinkets… Hey, are you gonna share one of the twins with me tonight?”
“See you later at Dronski’s, my friend.” Jason rolled his eyes after quickly ending the transmission with Grier.
“Jason, please buckle your harness for full deceleration,” Sofia motherly requested.
Jason fumbled with the spider harness before saying, “Give me a visual of the Pipe.”
The heads-up display blinked and the tunnel popped in view giving Jason nearly a one hundred and eighty-degree view as the Chameleon slowed to a near stop. Jason could not help but notice the scrolling communication along the entrance wall. “THANK YOU FOR USING THE FISSURE POINT PIPE… WE HOPE YOUR TRAVEL WAS SMOOTH AND ENJOYABLE… HAVE A NICE STAY, JASON BJORN…”
“Jason…”
“Here it comes…” thought Jason before responding. “Yes, Sofia.”
“Are you going to share one of the twins with John Grier tonight?”
“No, I’m not going to share anything but laughter and drink with my old friend tonight.”
“Jason…”
“Yes, Sofia.”
“Does that mean you are going to sleep with both of them yourself?”
“Change of subject.”
“Yes, Jason,” Sofia softly replied.
“Sofia, drop me off at the Custom’s Control Agents Station…you’ll then deliver the payload, and wait for me at the docking door.”
“Yes, Jason.”
The ship hovered to a complete stop in front of the Machiavellian looking entrance and Jason gladly acknowledged Sofia by saying, “We made it…good job, Sofia. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
“Jason, be careful of the Fissure Point’s underworld, they will rob you blind.”
“I’ll be very watchful, and thank you for the information…”
“Good God! Maybe I will have Sofia looked at when I get back… I didn’t ask for the Jealousy Program,” Jason thought to himself after exiting the Chameleon.
DRONSKI’S Café
Jason warily eyed a sketchy tattooed individual, who was weaving up against the wall outside Dronski’s and as he approached, the inebriated man seemed determine to get his attention when he earnestly spoke. “Psst, hey you… Psst! You, pssssst!”
“Don’t fucking Pssst me!” Jason hesitantly replied while trying to walk by the gritty looking man.
“I noticed your boots.”
“So, what about them?” Jason asked while he simultaneously thought, “I can’t believe it I’m sucked into actually having a conversation with this street urchin.”
The stupefied drunk suddenly lunged out grabbing Jason violently by the shirt, before answering, “Listen… the wearer of those boots, walks a tight rope.”
Jason stepped back to the side, and watched the crazy man slip from his own drunken momentum. The tattooed man smacked hard, face down, on to the inflexible surface. “Boy, that had to of hurt,” he thought before mouthing, “Some people can’t handle their drink.” He then stepped over the now bleeding man and only felt pity for him.
On entering the dimly lit café, Jason noticed a fine layer of dust covering all surfaces. Discolored gray walls, concrete support beams, and a honeycombed shaped ceiling, rendered the structural design functional. However, the low hanging light fixtures, rusted metal tables and chairs, are what truly defined the patina of the space.
The walls and floor are all covered in a durable synthetic bioluminescent smart membrane called the Skin. Its micro sensory node
s can detect someone’s presence through biometric facial recognition and algorithmic wave points. The technology can identify, determine, and distinguish between each and every individual. Through this recognition technology, the Skin can determine what that individual would like to watch or not. Commercials, news and weather related reports, all dominate the visual spectrum; the membrane is also used for face-to-face communications, however people mostly prefer their personal communicator for privacy’s sake.
Based on hive technology, the Skin is considered the city’s lifeline. Albeit delivering mass media and general information to the populace, the interconnected membrane gathers information on the entire colony. Temperature, moisture content, energy, water usage, structural integrity, and security, are the hive technology’s less seedy directives.
Decades before, an upheaval occurred when hackers found evidence of Population Control Programs layered deep within the system. Fissure Point Council refuted all such claims and they squashed the popular uprising by locking down the area where the hack took place. Then the Secret Police moved in and people began to disappear, never to be seen or heard of again. After, the Council improved Systems Security and created a preventative response program; this was done by discontinuing all access to the portal area being attacked, and since the systems upgrade, not one rebellion has reoccurred, but to this day, there has been uneasiness between the residents, and the Fissure Point Council.
“Sorry about the mess… damn ventilation filters must be clogged at the source again… It usually takes a while for them to fix the problem”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way… it gives the old place character, Marge Dronski.”
