"Wish You Were Here" : 2 April 2096 : New Chicago, United American Republics

The window slowly became more transparent, gradually letting in the sunlight to wake me up.

It was 8:45AM.

My cat hopped onto the bed. She was about 12, a brown tone, with black ears, paws, and tail. It meowed in my face. 

"Meow?" I questioned.

It answered with another noise. 

"Fine." I responded as I rose from my bed.

I approached the food bowl as the window achieved 100% opacity.

New Chicago came to life below me. I was on the 123rd floor. I had a great view, like something off of a postcard.

There was a trail of smoke visible from downtown. The bombings were becoming more and more common. Fucking psychopaths.

I felt like getting some coffee. I got dressed and headed for the elevator. 

There was a cute young woman in the elevator with me: chin length black hair, cute face. She was carrying a satchel.

"Hello." I said.

She stood in silence, the bitch.

I finally made it to the ground floor. She followed me what seemed like forever. She walked into the coffee shop and went to some back doors behind the counter.

About 7 minutes later she came back out. And about 2 minutes after that, the little coffee shop on the corner of South Rachel and 47th erupted into a massive fireball. I had a window seat. The blast blew me out of the front window and onto the street. My ears rang and my leg was on fire. I had a 2 inch long piece of glass jutting out of my left shoulder. Looking at my injuries and shouting a few expletives was all I remembered before I passed out. 

It was 9:40AM; I guess I'm not getting coffee today.

I woke up about 5 hours later in a hospital bed.

I passed out again. 

About a month later I would see her again.

"What's the deal?" : 27 March 2096 : Mexican Federation

A journalist was running around with a black object.  He aimed it at the horizon; the transports' lights glowed ominously in the distance. He had blood on his vest.

"Are you damaged?" I asked him sounding worried - I wasn't.

He was too focused on getting his shot for the nightly news.

An infantryman with large antennas poking out of his back jogged over to me.

"Sir, I have orders from High Command for you." he shouted to me.

"You know, you're standing right next to me; you don't have to yell." I advised him.

"Yessir!" he screamed back.

"Just give me the update!" I shouted back impatiently.

I put the datacard into my oplink's external port.

The UAR Armed Forces seal was displayed by the nano-machines in my eye while the audio was played through my audial nano-machines.

"Lt. Bonaparte, you are to return to Firebase Bravo for your debriefing. We will contact you again." the playback ordered me.

We'll that was short.

"You weren't invited" : 27 March 2096 : Mexican Federation

This helicopter stinks. This whole operation stinks. The men, they smell like fear. A bunch of greenhorns trained by their video games. No actual combat experience. I'm expecting high casualties right off the bat. 

"Why did you come with us sir?!" The private tries to communicate with me over the sound of the rotor blades.

"Why? Because we're soldiers. If I am to die. I'll be with my men."

"I'm sorry sir I couldn't hear you!"

"Don't call me 'sir'!"

"Yes sir!"

"What's your name boy?!"

"Dudley sir! Private Alvin H. Dudley!"

"Are you ready to die Alvin?"

"No sir!"

"Damn right..."

As we approach the landing zone the other choppers start going down. Damn cannons; our air support was supposed to handle them. My blood gets hot. The rounds start ripping through the belly of the chopper. The search lights blind me temporarily. When the search lights clear I see Pvt. Dudley took a cannon round in his center mass.

He died with his eyes wide open.

The wheels touch the ground. The operation is as follows:

1. Penetrate the enemy's air space and make landing at vector nine-nine-zero.

2. Capture the airstrip.

3. Gain control of the enemy airspace.

4. Guide in the main transports.

5. Hold position until further orders.

I am first in command of the operation. Put in command by the United American Republic High Command. Even though I'm just a lieutenant, I've show what I can do in simulations. To be honest. I don't have any experience either.

We rush out of the chopper. 

"Stay with me! Stay with me and we'll make this!" I yell to my men.

I get a collective "Yes sir!" out of them.

"Next one to call me sir is a dead man."

"Yes Lt. Bonaparte!"

Lieutenant Napoleon Bonaparte

Born 15 August 2069

Born in New Chicago, UAR

Unmarried

Family: Unknown

Mother and Father: Deceased

Comments: Showed exceptional leadership skills and combat ability in holo-sims. 

I don't really have a lot to fight for to be honest. Just my apartment in New Chicago.

And my cat.

"Jefferson, take point"

"Yes Lieutenant!"

"This is Bonaparte. We've taken the control tower. Send in the T-16s."

"Roger that."

"I want a perimeter held around this tower. Everyone update your oplinks with the new maps."

This op was planned a long time ago. After we took the Canadian territories we started ringing up the Mexican plans. This battle would have been much easier, but the Mexican Federation contains lower North America and the entire South American continent. Our Navy is striking Sao Paulo at this very moment.

The European Union was no doubt the next target.

 

Personal Jesus

The only detriment suffered while being in connection is one's complete loss of awareness of their physical world, yet escaping this world is this machine's primary attraction. This machine is such as an oasis is in a desert of desolation. I understand that certain portions of the population would rather prefer that this machine to be a tool used for "recreation and relaxation". This machine must be distributed individually, to each man his own desire will exist as this machine. I believe that it would be in the best interest of the said population that it be necessary for me, the unsung savior, to "tiptoe" around certain "de facto moral constrictions" in the efforts I must take to spread my gift to the ignorant and/or unwilling. But before a noble engineer such as myself can accomplish such tasks, this machine must be tested.

My Mind, Erratic

My mind, erratic. My heart, sporadic. My body automatic. My surroundings autocratic. Electric sex with my thoughts. I feel, nothing. I see, everything. This machine, it frees my body of all that hinders its transcendence. It reveals some of my deepest fears: that the world is a lie; it was all in my head, just a bunch of made up non-sense and lights. With this machine, I become a god among circuits. Without it, I am but an engineer in another cartographer's imagination rotting in a crumbling society. I will sell happiness and freedom: the color, the life, the dreams. They will have nowhere else to go. They cannot escape what their mind desires. Their world abandoned, for mine. 

I have built the end.

Siren

"I was asleep when you called", she said with, for some reason, a dash of guilt.

She was sitting on the small couch across from me, a table between us. 

"I've never fallen asleep except for when they put us to sleep every night."

"How long?"

"I don't know...I was just watching TV and...I dozed off."

"I've never heard of that happening."

"I'm all sweaty too."

We both laughed for a second, lightening the mood a bit.

"Hey, you opened the window for me.", she said in a happier, surprised voice.

"Yeah, I did."

Silence ensued yet again.

"Do you want to go for a walk or something?", I asked her.

"Not really..."

"Oh, Ok.", I thought maybe it was a good idea.

She sighed. Then she began to breath heavily. "Ah, I'm...I'm so sorry. I didn't wan-", She started to tear up. I felt so horrible.  I walked over to her and sat next to her, put my arm around her, and she hid her face on my shoulder.

"I'm just scared."

Her crying wasn't over the top. She wasn't a dramatic person. She hated looking weak. I realized that this was the first time I had seen her cry. I kind of enjoyed it though, she trusted me, and I don't have many friends these days.

"Come with me."

I brought her to the window. It was snowing, as always, and the sirens were as audible as ever. We stood there together, silent, for about a minute....and then my legs fell asleep again...

Channel

"Welcome to the land of prosperity, the land of wealth, the land of freedom, the land of the Citizens."

 

Lying on my couch, I've been keeping it on the 'ganda channel. 

"Welcome to utopia, welcome to paradise. Welcome to the land where dreams become reality. Welcome, to Eden..." 

That word...

"Dream." 

It means nothing.

"I've never dreamed before..." I whisper back, "...no one has."

I hear some pounding over my shoulder. 

A muffled "Hans!" works its way over to me.  

"Open the damn door!", that familiar tone of my brother's voice echoes through my mind, but I know he's not there. 

"You've been gone for six months! What are you do-", an interruption.

The lights dim for but a second and an explosion reverberates through the city. 

"Go back to Eden!", I finish my sentence 

I get up, experiencing some minor pain. I work my way over to the door. I open it. 

An empty hallway. 

The old man who makes snow angels smiles at me

"What are you yelling at?", he throws a nervous chuckle-like wheezing in at end of his inquiry. 

"Nothing."

"Wha-?" 

"Have you ever had a dream?", I cut in.

"What are you talking about?, confused.

"What am I talking about..."

"You need some rest kid.", in a cliche "old man" moment.

"....Yeah....", comes off my lips with dejection.

Our conversation over, I slowly close the door. I nearly collapse, my legs fall asleep. Just as this happens, the phone begins its ringing. 

"Faron February" the computerized cackle of the phone surprises me for some reason. 

I fight my legs to get up. I struggle to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Are you at home?"

"...Were you sleeping!?"

"I'm coming over."

She cancels the call.

This, This Machine

He longs for it so. He has become an assimilation of what was once a complete human and a collection of circuitry and silicon. He built it. He has grown with it for some time now. "Good evening, User", it chirps back to him. The acceptingness of the synthesized voice eases him. He lets himself go. There are no rules here, it is his domain, his creation, his utopia. He gets what he desires when he desires it; something he can never have in the "society" he exists in. Edward had a comfortable job as an engineer, building the weapons that rule the world. Edward had friends, but his works had killed them. This fact he will never escape. This "creation of his dreams" has filled the gaping void that was ripped by the psychological trauma that comes from building death. He just wanted an escape. He began to build his own machine. This, this machine... 

Across Knives

I think something is wrong with me. I can't feel anymore. I run my hands across knives and I don't feel a thing. I run my fingers through her hair and I don't-feel-a damned-thing. I couldn't feel the tears rolling down my face when she asked me why I was crying. I didn't answer her. I didn't know either. I killed her with the very same hands that night. I don't know why. I did it because it felt good. As I watched her scream, I realized that I could no longer hear. As I ate her, I realized that I could no longer taste. I think it was the smell that woke me up. When I woke, and I saw, I realized:

"I had eaten myself".

The American Nightmare

Hmmm, I wonder. Is Katie going out with Brad? I wonder if the Hills is on tonight

Oh look, the Iraq death toll is 10,000 now. I wonder why McCain reinforced the Patriot Act last Thursday

I hear the outbreak in Europe has killed much of the population

We've invaded Canada to the north and Mexico to the south. They couldn't put up much of a fight against us. The operations were over in a month. Thankfully, their governments are now under our just control

My husband was part of the invasion force deployed from Iceland. The European Union is the only country that could still rival ours; their current state should give us an advantage. Being as they are such a young state, they are still divided and without the unity of our great alliance, not to mention the crippling outbreak they suffered last year

The famine in Russia should make this an easy fight

Today, China claimed at the UN meeting that it is prepared to mobilize against the United American Republics

We launched our newly completed weapon for the moon this week. It should be ready for operations within 6 days

China has begun to aid the Russian Resistance and is taking back part of the Siberian Wastes. They have signed several weapons development deals with the Japanese in the past weeks. Some fears are mounting as to what their plans will be, but our leaders have assured us not to worry

My husband has been promoted to general for command of the forces being rushed to Alaska and the nearby Kamchatka Peninsula

We fired our weapon on Japan today. It is said that they did not suffer, but many of us are losing our trust in our government. China has declared war on us

The Chinese have transmitted messages to all electronic devices currently in use in the 'republics. It asks all citizens to raise their hands against our oppressors. It says that if we do not, the UAR will have control of every byte and every page and every memory; to censor and rewrite all that we know. No one would ever know the truth.

I am an old woman now, a grandma; or at least I would be if all of my family wouldn't have passed in the Endwar. I live in St. Paul, Minnesota, by myself. It's a lot quieter now. Maybe I'm the only one left, maybe we will never be able to start over.

At least, now, I'm free.