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”.

Imprint Pt. III
"So you're saying this entire thing is a sham controlled solely by the government with no alien involvement at all," K scoffed, "That seems highly improbable."
By Sydney Chapman5 years ago in Futurism
The Unrelenting Charge of Desolation vs Craig
It had been like a generation since probably China tantrum’ed out a buncha nukes like a wet dog shaking off after a bath; billions were dead, America was in ruins, and grocery stores everywhere were on the brink of collapse. Craig Bierderger was a 6th generation owner of a chain of stores in what was left of Missouri and he was told that they were doing quite well, all things considered, when suddenly they lost contact with the Kansas City locations. This was one of the worst years ever for radioactive superstorms, leading to razor-thin margins and dozens if not hundreds of workers suddenly disappearing in the only other surviving Missouri city could cripple the company. Craig decided to go out there personally and straighten things out. It's 250 miles across a state that was a desolate, mutant-infested, wasteland even before the war but Craig was optimistic, fearless, and bored, so he drug his dog Candy into the back seat of his smart car and headed west. All he had to do was make it to Kansas City.
By James5 years ago in Futurism
The Freaks Come Out At Night
The Southernmost of the Twin Suns was beginning to set when the crew stepped onto the hard surface of the flight line. The four men walked without ceremony toward the large, sleek shape that loomed in front of them at a distance. They wore flying suits comprised of synthetic weaves which were designed to be lightweight and fire-resistant, and flying helmets which carried a visor that was coated with FibroDiamond dust which would whiten instantly and protect the eyes of the wearer in the event of an explosion. On their bodies they carried a utility vest and maps, charts, lunchboxes, and other personal effects in their tanned Synthleather flying bags. Most carried the latest Holonews cassettes or InfoTablet books as well, they knew it was going to be a long flight. As they came closer to the craft, they could read the text displayed upon the starboard tail fin. Night Freakers. Hull Number XYB46. Accompanying their unit name was a stylized, cartoonish rendering of a ghoul emerging from behind a crescent moon. The craft carried an odd paint scheme of black for the bottom part of the hull, and Three Fin Shark Grey for the top. While the paint scheme would do them no favors in the event of an encounter with an adversary in the air, it was well suited for their current mission. The sole purpose of the existence of the 37TH Royal Reconnaissance Aerial Wing Regiment was not to launch armed incursions into enemy territory, or to engage in brutal combat against light and nimble fighters. Their mission was to watch over what remained of the Kingdom, their former adversary. The remnants of the various city-states that were the heart and soul of the Kingdom were now in what were termed Dead Zones Located on the most spinward part of their continent and the site of 286 simultaneous Thermofusion attacks which decisively ended the last Regal Genocide War over two decades ago. They were to observe and record, to speak for those still in the Zones.
By craig s5 years ago in Futurism
Before
Before It was stretched delicately across her chest when her eyes opened. Cold and strange and somehow familiar. It held the reflection of the Sky-Fire. It’s soft yellow light relaxed her and the tightness she felt in her chest eased and she was able to exhale a long held breath.
By Michael Fry5 years ago in Futurism
Imprint Pt. II
"But, what if they aren't vengeful, terrible, awful beings?" "What do you mean?" he seemed perplexed, "If they aren't awful beings, the narrative doesn't work."
By Sydney Chapman5 years ago in Futurism
Technical Blues
JP’s gaze fell down to the scratched brass twinkling in his iron grip. The way JP handled objects was very precise. One could almost call it mechanical. Since its change in ownership, the heart-shaped locket in JP’s clutches had never been opened. It wasn’t that it couldn’t be opened physically. JP had simply made a pact not to open it, and while he carried the rusted memento wherever he went, he didn’t do it out of sentiment. To him, the locket was a prized artifact of human behavior. It was the source of a greater, unanswered question. You see, JP hadn’t had a family or friends before the Fall, and so the subtleties and complexities of most human emotions were lost on him. Since picking up the locket, JP had dedicated himself wholeheartedly to understanding human emotions. Other survivors he had met had scorned his desire to understand. They wondered why JP hadn’t made his way to one of the AI-built supercities that had thrived since the Fall. Some analytical types even called him dysfunctional, which was quite a serious insult for the times. JP didn’t care. He was wired the way he was, and that was that.
By Andrew Culhane5 years ago in Futurism
The Locket
The sun was high in the sky. The boy lingered in the doorway, glancing again at the cloth wrapped packet in his hand before tucking it into the inner pocket of his tunic. It was illegal to be outside when the sun was up, but a caravan had arrived from the west with travelers seeking refuge. Odd, to have a caravan arrive in the daytime, but perhaps it was a sign that this would be the day that he had waited for. The day he found the person with the matching locket, identical to the heart shaped trinket he had just tucked into his shirt, his most guarded possession. He glanced once again at the bright orb in the sky, wondering how long it had been since the last solar flare.
By Alicia Borghese5 years ago in Futurism
Alienation
We are the people who are here. What we ask each other is more a reflection of who we are than is what we say into ears, unsolicitied.
By casey brown5 years ago in Futurism
When Endings are Beginnings
Summer 2025 Appalachia Mountains, United States The night air was cool on the mountain and rustled among the forest trees. David Meyers stood guard over the village against the wild, mutated animals as the rest of the town slept. Black bears that were once shy and afraid of people grew over 800 lbs. and they now attacked people to their death on site. The virus had caused the coyotes to grow near 7ft tall. These were one of the most dangerous because they traveled in packs and had even start hunting by day. It was as if nature itself had turned against humanity and was determined to punish the world out of spite.
By T Arlivia 5 years ago in Futurism
Tales of the Nightingale
The only thing separating Kassy from the vastness of space was a few centimeters of material; a myriad of synthetics. The suit was absorbing enough juice to reconstitute oxygen from the bi-product gases released from her skin. Kassy could float out here indefinitely, or at least until she died from dehydration which would occur much more quickly because of the demand the suit ultimately placed on her body.
By Michael G Dick5 years ago in Futurism
Forgotten Stories
The world of Syph seemed too normal, too unremarkable to be the correct location; yet the rumors pointed here. No orbitals or ships over the planet, and a scan of the land itself showed no signs of intelligent life. The world was full of life, a plethora of fauna and flora, occasionally blips of what might be ruins dotted the surface but no radio waves or any sign of even a feudal civilization. Tyberos dispatched the scouts to the different possible ruins, one team responded with a possible find. Hope was not something the Red Wake had felt in a long time, and now it rose unbidden; he squashed it and turned to depart the ship.
By Alex5 years ago in Futurism
A Magical Warrior, her Destiny, and a Saphire that held the Seven Seas
Oldensfleur blooms were so fragrant and always reminded Selvexa of home by the sea. Selvexa woke to the strong scent of Oldensfleur. They came in from the small vecht windows in the hall and were a gift from the Highst Generals, considered valuable and given only to Priestesses in the Breeders sechtr of Oldenlight Clan. Feeling a heavy fog from the potent elixir she took for sleep, the smell She knew roused her awake, always for some reason, that aroma also made her feel sad. She didn't know why and that drove her mad. She tried to avoid the urge to tip her nose up and inhale deeply, the heady scent reminiscent of her beloved sea. She failed to resist, inhaled, then a sad smile, because she could only feel a loss she didn't understand. That emotion brought unbridled anger that always took her thoughts to a darker place, like the one she was in now.
By Susan Hoeflich5 years ago in Futurism