Fantasy and Fiction

Days Of the Weak #1

Titus Daudi
Written by titus Daudi
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Hi, this is a small story I’m working on.It’s going to be part of a big series that will finally be mashed into a novel feel free to post your comments in the commentary section.

Chapter 1

They named it the last epoch, the most epic moment in humanity’s history. Finally we were migrating, a giant leap into a big pool called nowhere. Mostly it was the heads of states you’d find stacked in the tiny cubicles of the rockets complaining of poor LiFi and bad food but who cared? We were out of earth at last, at least that’s what they told us, that we’d join them. Months passed and the Corporations built more rocket, the only good thing you’d hear in the news was that the boarding prices had dropped to a few million or that your favorite musician had left you back on earth, at least it gave you hope that you’d continue to stack more hits on your Holographic but the secret was that we were all going to die. We all knew it but we still wished they were wrong.

Breakdown2

We wanted to live in that box, we wanted to feel safe, the problem was that we pretended it was all okay but every time we looked into the faces of those we loved, we knew it was the end. People were dying, militias were rising, there was anarchy, not the good type wh

ere everyone’s free to choose whatever he wants, no, not that rather the type where everyone has disregard for his neighbors life, where everyone is driven by a passion to kill. At first, we all thought it was a season of anger designed to go away, then one day, it happened… Something came, something hit us hard. I was there, I felt the pain, I knew it was the end, we were never the same.

Breaksdown1

APRIL 10TH 2067

“Daddy, why do things die?” My daughter Stacy was born a gifted lad, by the age of two, she had such a strong awareness of things around her that the Neurologists said she’d never need to wear a ‘boomer’, that’s what they called Nano Trans Cranial Magnetic Fronto-temporal enhancers (NTCMFE’s), tiny devices they stuck in many children’s heads to improve Brain Utility. Many people couldn’t afford the cost of Gene-editing their babies outside wombs or the cost of NanoGenomics, injecting tiny robots to remake our DNA according to desired traits. The field of Synthetic Genomics was still small, not in the sense that it had few theories, laws and Mathematical Equations but in the sense that everybody feared we’d make a gnome on our best day and ogres on our worst. So we were stuck in a slimy pool of theoretical games.

 

Unlike my daughter, I was not born smart. My affluent parents had boomers inserted into my head when I returned home with an E in Quantum Chemistry back in High School. I hated Quantum Chemistry and many other parts of Chemistry in general but I loved Organic Chemistry, it seemed so simple yet so hard. My parents were affluent Corporate executives. My father built the first Humanoid AI software Company in Kenya back in the late 2030’s and later opened many Tech Holographic Smart Phone companies around the world. Growing up he was a geek and by the age of forty a billionaire appearing once on Forbes and Thrice on TIME magazine. My mother was the ultimate genius, She owned a Genetics firm but was more interested in real estate, She owned a pretty sum of money and worked with the Government most of the time. She appeared on Forbes once and in many talk shows.

I on the other hand was a fool, the first fool in a family line of geeks and techies, one Nuclear Physicist and a theoretical Mathematical Biologist. Before my operation, I had many fails, then almost overnight I could see the dots more clearly. I passed and upon joining the University of Nairobi wrote three Theoretical Biology papers which earned me a Scholarship into Stanford’s Genomics Department to study Synthetic Genomics for 6 years and also work among the panel of researchers.

A year after my graduation, I got an email that my father had died, his Pulse Maker(a device designed to reconstruct heart beat patterns similar to that of the person when completely healthy) had failed. I got my share but my interests were not in Tech. My younger brother Elias took over HuskyTech International and when he told me he had teamed up with some Harvard Graduates and Students from the Chinese Academy of Sciences with the sole aim of redesigning a Synthetic human brain I loaned him my share of the inheritance with zero percent interest not only as a good brother but also as a good scientist, ten years later he had a few successes but many fails.

 

****

3RD MAY 2073

“Daddy why do things die?” That’s a question I think of every day.

“Not every thing dies. Stones don’t die.” She had been grieving because her dog Paulo had died and I should not have brought the part about stones, realizing my mistake, I made up a story.

“You see, Paulo’s remains will go to the earth and he’ll grow back into a big tree.”I said my left hand on her back and my right pointing towards the sky.

“But I’ll be dead by then, I won’t see him.”

I almost cried but I fought back, my baby was distraught and there was nothing I could do to help. That was almost six years ago.

When she asked me that question, I thought that she must have been thinking of her dead dog Paulo, then it dawned to me that she must have had a connection with the future.

 

****

 

The temperatures had dropped well beyond -14 degrees. Outside, it was raining heavy balls of hail and the ground was covered with sleet. A few metres away a couple of dogs were barking before two gun shots rent the air. Somebody screamt, must have been an old lady, a widow perhaps. Gunshot…silence.

 

I rose from my tiny bed made of cardboard stacks. Two people both old geezers had spent the night sleeping besides me that’s why the tunnels, my second home must have felt so warm. I opened my last bottle of liqour and drank it half then creeped out of my bare existence. I didn’t fear guns or pucks, dying after all seemed a better prospect than the constant running from the known and unknown into the unknown.

 

“Why do things die?” A figurine, a ghostly image of my daughter asked stepping in front of me clad in her purple dress holding a rose for Paulo. I knew it was a hallucination, I had them almost every day so I removed the remaining bits of cocaine I had stuck into my porch and snuffed a nail-full.

“So you’re what’s left of Ardus Andruni, homeless, dead inside.” A lady’s voice echoed. That was no hallucination, I knew it because my young daughter was still banging my head inside. I searched but I could see no one around.

“I don’t give a fuck!” I shouted then dug my hand into my torn jacket to remove the remaining cocaine, seemed like my hallucinations were far worser than I thought.

“I’m right here.” I turned round and saw her clad in a tight black leather trouser and a rockstar’s jacket that seemed to have been the trending piece back in the early 2000’s sitting atop the tunnel’s entrance. She jumped from her sitting position and stretched open her tattooed arm.

“I don’t hack sites, I don’t do drugs.” I said greeting her all the same.

“You do drugs, don’t lie. I saw you sniff some coke earlier plus you reek of cheap liquor, what are you a drug store?” She had a smooth pale white face, tiny eyes fighting for space beneath a rug of black almost unreal hair. Some of her braids lit a deep purple glow, upon reacting to her pheromones, they were after all a byproduct of bioinformatics. Nothing was real. Her hands were smoother and she was ten times cleaner than I was. But there was a secret hidden behind those eyes, something explosive, back then, I felt it.

 

“What’s your deal, you don’t look like you belong in this place.” I pointed to the tunnels and for a while it deemed to me that just a few years ago I owned a tiny mansion, I had been brought up in a Palace, I was never made for the streets, nobody deserved a warm home with good food and a happy family more than me but they’d been taken away, the ‘prince’ was dead.

“My deal?” She sounded satirical “It’s not my deal but here’s how it goes, you come with me willingly or you come anyway.”

“You don’t own me.”

“No one owns anything more so you there’s a lot of coke where I come from, LSDs too, You can drink alcohol till you dream you fucked Caesar.”

My heart was pounding hard, I already knew the answer but I didn’t want to look desperate.

“And all that’s for what?”

“Your work.” She only had to say that before I realized I was intertwined in between something bad. I was about to run but a huge masculine mean looking guy blocked my way.

“Believe me you don’t want to run. You can’t.” The young lady said wading off the tiny crowd of poor homeless onlookers many of whom were begging for alms. She looked mean but some had more determination.

I thought of running but I knew it was futile, even if I escaped then they’d still find me anyway. I was tired of running and living in the most meagre of places.

 

“I give up.”

She stretched open her arm. The big guy must have drove a tiny needle into my neck, with a sedative perhaps because then my daughter stopped talking in my head and everything became blurry.

“Just for precaution.” She said then smiled as I fell on the big guy’s chest.

 

-To be Continued-

 

About the author

Titus Daudi

titus Daudi

Writing is that one thing that keeps me awake every night but I love to science too, together we make a great couple... at least that's what I think.

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