Temporary Obsession
Mining Cultural Ephemera since 2009
February 14, 2010 at 4:12 pm
filed under Uncategorized
Tagged fiction, RHIT, Science Fiction
Note: I’ve been really bad about updating here lately. I’m putting together a recap post for the last 8 weeks, but it won’t go up until next weekend because my focus is on Senior Project being awesome. To tide things over, I’m putting up a few things I’ve written this quarter, two music reviews (Vampire Weekend and Beach House) and the flash fiction I wrote for my science fiction class. Here’s the story.
“Have you used our service before?” the sales representative asked me.
“No” I replied.
“Okay then. Before I go any further I’m going to explain what the process entails,” she said in a chipper practiced tone. I looked at her nametag. Julie.
“What we do here at Future Perfect is take your initial data and with the use of advanced predictive technologies give you alternative timestreams as to how things could go. Once you’ve chosen the outcome you’re looking to find in the situation, we give you a list of steps to take and ensure this future happens. That’s why the screening process to get an appointment here takes so long—we don’t want this kind of information to fall into the wrong hands.”
I nodded. “You wouldn’t want the next potential dictator getting the steps they needed to enslave the Earth.”
“Exactly,” she replied, “Now which of our packages did you choose to go with?”
Future Perfect’s services weren’t cheap at any tier. The basic package cost most of my life’s savings—I couldn’t imagine how much the top plan cost. That analyzed over a hundred potential scenarios of the way things could go. For the basic plan, I only got five.
“The basic plan. It’s all I can afford.”
Julie seemed to understand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes I think it’s the best of all the plans we offer—too much choice and you can’t decide. Now what are you looking to do?”
I told her about my goal. I currently worked as a technician on the shuttles running between Earth and Mars, but my goal was to be part of the exploratory missions to planets farther out in the solar system. I had taken the job repairing faulty ships with the hope of advancing or getting some more relevant experience to apply for those sorts of positions, but had mostly been stuck in the same place. Five years later, I needed a plan to change things. Future Perfect’s services were my chance at that.
Julie finished typing into the console. “Okay, I’ve got all of the data entered into the system. It’ll take a few minutes for it to process, run the analytics and determine some options for you. Can I get you something to drink while we wait?”
I took her up on her offer. We talked for a few minutes before the console beeped to indicate that analysis had been completed. Julie took a look at the results. A confused look formed on her face.
“Something’s not right. According to these, you don’t have a future.”
I was taken aback. “What?”
“Sorry, let me rephrase that. I didn’t mean it to sound so hopeless. There’s something wrong with the results—instead of showing the potential ways you could reach your goal, it’s showing that in all five of the possible timestreams, you’re going to die. That can’t be right.”
“Is this a regular occurrence?”
“No, but it has happened before. I’m going to grab someone from IT. I’ll be right back.”
Waiting alone in her office seemed to take forever, but she came back with a technician. He took a look inside the console, but nothing seemed to be amiss with the terminal. He left to go check elsewhere in the office for the problem.
“It’s probably just a fluke in the system. This happens every once in a while—you’d think with all the advancements that keep this place running we could at least keep it online 100% of the time. I’ll refund your money and schedule you for another appointment. Does 3PM tomorrow work for you?”
It didn’t. Another appointment time was set up; I got my refund, and headed back to the main level of the Future Perfect building. As I headed out, I was still thinking over what she said—Julie tried to cover it up, but there was something ominous in her voice when she told me I didn’t have a future. What could she have been trying to hide?
I didn’t see the bus coming until it was too late. So that’s what she meant.
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