Dream From The Future

Perfect World story (The NOW)

I arose in a bed soaked with sweat. Waking to a hot LA morning is something I know, but this wasn't it-- it was comfortable outside, a cool 65 degrees.

I'm twenty-one, done with college and like to party so these things happen, but there had been no party, either. Last night had been uneventful (I swear!) but somehow my sobriety-soaked brain had created the most vivid, weird, disturbing dream of my life. It was a hi-def DVD of strange playing in my head, a cut-crystal cloth of clear I wish I could forget. Here's what happened:

I was being chased around the sky by a large talking fish who soon snagged me with a net. I don't know what I did to that fish... I've never even gone fishing. Nonetheless, he forced me on an evil trek through places where dark and disturbing things happened, where I experienced depraved emotions that should have remained bottled up and was coerced to participate in unforgivably degrading events that would send Tim Burton babbling to the corner.

So yeah, my bed was wet with fear sweat.

I got in the shower wearing my jammys. There was no point in taking them off-- they were clinging to my body like wallpaper and smelled like old cheese. I did strip them off midway and left them on the tile to become home, down the road, for several malevolent species of mold.

Throwing on some old chinos and a torn tee I staggered to the kitchen and dropped deeply roasted beans in the grinder. I kicked it on and balked at the noise, a raspy crunch that sounded like the grinding of bones. Oh, I had to shake those damned dream images out of my head!

Coffee! I wanted to pour the dark brew directly into my brainpan to fire up the synapses, and to make me clear again, and especially to cause that odd translucent ball floating over my breakfast nook to go away, the one that crackled with electric surges along its surface, the one that, within it, had a man's head floating about.

Wait.

I scanned the room, left to right, one more time. Fridge, check. Stove, check. Arrowhead water dispenser filled with vodka, check. Weird floating orb thing with a head. I blinked. It blinked.

Huh.

I swear it wasn't there last night when I went to bed, although I may not have done a complete safety check before bedtime. Carefully, I sidled around it. The eyes followed me. Weird! I thought that only happened with black velvet paintings of enormous-eyed orphans. I reached in and smacked the head. My hand passed through unimpeded. The orb, however, jiggled like Jello made of clouds, then organized back into an orb. The head, once a head again, rolled its eyes.

I hated that. "Don't roll your eyes at me!" I seethed and disturbed the face with a finger, stirring it like coffee, swirling away the eyes. They came back a moment later, still rolling. I poked them like Moe. Nyuck, nyuck.

"Stop it, please."

I did stop. Not because the head asked, but because it spoke. Up until that moment I was certain this was an elaborate prank being visited upon me by my idiot friends, but the voice wasn't being pumped in through some hidden speaker somewhere-- no, it had come from the head's mouth. This had to be a figment of my imagination!

"I am not a figment of your imagination," he said, apparently mind reading, and then like an Olympian god he announced, "I... am... Broose!" I'm pretty sure I heard a reverberation.

I stopped cold. I remembered Broose. I once dreamt about a relative contacting me from the far future-- I was his 'great to the sixth' grandfather. "So then you are a figment of my imagination after all!"

"How do you mean?"

"You were a dream."

The head called Broose ahhed with insight and nodded. "A dream. That's right, it was a dream."

"See, I told you!"

"Yes, a dream... a dream that I sent back through time and placed into your head."

I balked. "That's not how I remember it at all. I remember receiving a letter that became a sheet of paper that became a computer that disappeared when I woke up."

"Fair enough-- I can see how you'd think that. I can prove I sent you that dream, though."

"Really? How?"

"I also sent you last night's dream about the big flying fish."

I dropped to the floor and scurried into the corner, panting and panicked. "Why would you do that to me? What have I ever done to you?"

The head was admittedly shocked. "Wha...? What happened? He was supposed to take you on a tour of the future!"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. That's not what he did at all." I shuddered. "He locked me in a room with his horny fat fish sister! I don't want to talk about it."

"My, my," he said wistfully, "So, so sorry. Fish aren't all that smart, even with my modifications. But this one was supposed to be obedient."

I got up off the floor, more surprised than anything right now. "You really sent a talking fish to my dream? Why? Did you know he forced me to pole dance for his friends? He made me wear a tutu!"

He looked embarrassed which, as a head in a fishbowl, I thought he'd have been there sooner. "He was supposed to fly you around my city and show off the future. He didn't do that?"

"He did not."

"Sorry, gramps."

"Don't call me that! I'm not even a father yet... and you look older than me. In any case, the fish floundered. Is that why you're here as a floating head?"

"I was going to fill in whatever the fish had missed... hey, I'm a floating head?"

"Yes, your head is in an intangible bowl floating above my kitchen table, above the E-Z squeeze ketchup."

"Oh, that must be disconcerting. Here, let me fix it." He looked down at his missing form and just like that, the rest of his body dropped to the floor... right through the table.

"You're stuck in my table."

"Righto. Here we go." He walked through it without a thought and stood next to me, a somewhat translucent, smoke-built relative. "That's better, yes?"

I looked him over. "I suppose. What the hell are you wearing?"

He sniffed. "A tunic. It's comfortable."

"It looks a little... oh, I don't know, Robin Hood-y." I grinned. "Do you future people also wear togas and muu-muus?"

He scowled, poorly. "Thankfully no. We still have blue jeans, though."

"Can't go wrong with jeans."

"Nope."

"Nope."

"And a lot of people wear skin-tight gauze fabric."

"Can you show me that, please?"

"Maybe later."

I was hungry. "Well, I'm going to make breakfast... and I need coffee. I think now I'm going to go for the Irish coffee. Some really strong Irish coffee."

"Really, really sorry about the fish."

"Never mention that again." I changed the subject. "The last time you left before answering my most important question."

"I didn't leave... your alarm went off and woke you. I came back to finish what I started."

"That was last year!"

"It took that long to develop this new tech."

"What new tech?"

"You're not dreaming this time... you're awake."

"Oh, right. I do find it weird that I'm talking to a relative who won't be born for like 200 years."

"I think it's weird that I'm talking to a dead man."

"Time paradox." I chuckled. "I could never follow science fiction stories about twists in time, and now I'm in one."

"You should know we visit you in the Grove all the time. It's beautiful."

"What's the Grove?"

"Your final resting place."

"My grave's in the Grove?"

"Yes. One of your brilliant ideas was changing the concept of cemeteries. It's done worldwide today."

"Wow! I'm impressed with me. What did I do?"

"You ended the traditional look of cemeteries-- no more headstones, no more wasteful caskets. Now each deceased is buried under a newly planted tree, and a detailed electronic plaque mounted on the mature tree serves as their biography."

"That is a good idea! I should write it down before I forget it."

"You already wrote it. Don't try scaring me with that paradox crap-- I did my homework."

I grinned. "I had to try."

"So you did. Anyway, entire forests are planted this way. You wanted your own family plot, the Grove, to be fruit trees. We come to eat the fruits and read the plaques. I'll be buried there one day myself."

"Which fruit tree am I under?"

"A widge."

"A widge? What the hell is a widge?"

"It's like a small, seedless blue watermelon that tastes of vanilla and honey."

"Sounds delicious. Your biotech must be astounding."

He laughed and doubled over. "Gotcha! There's no such fruit as a widge."

I frowned. "Cute."

"You're under an apple tree."

"The Tree of Knowledge... apropos! Where is the Grove?"

"In Aden of course."

I knew of no such place. "Aden? Where's that?"

"Oh right... you don't start Aden for a couple of decades yet. Give it time. It's the first city you inaugurate. It's in Nebraska."

I frowned. "Nebraska-- in the middle of nowhere? Why there?" And then it hit me. "Hold on... first city?"

He walked over to where I was preparing breakfast and advised, "Add more ground coffee. Don't you like it strong?"

I'm intrigued at my prolificacy. "I inaugurate more than one city?"

"Lots more. Twenty-one, actually. But Aden was always your home. Why don't you have six strips of bacon?"

I looked at him balefully. "Why are you influencing my breakfast choices? Are you living vicariously through me?"

Broose's head dropped. "Yes. My partner's got me eating more healthy fare. I miss my nitrites and caffeine."

"Let me guess... she's feeding you oatmeal and fruit."

"I wish. Protein powder and ascorbic acid."

I shuddered. "What's so perfect about your world?"

"Sometimes I wonder. So will you take the tour of the future with me?"

"Sure! But... how am I going to do that?"

"Watch." Broose fiddled and his appearance field expanded. I could now see beyond him and into the futuristic room.

"Is that a lava lamp? I love the colorful waxy blobs."

"No... that's a clock. It's 8:15."

"Strange. How about that thing there... is that a computer?"

"No, that's a fish tank. Here's the computer." He said, "Jolie, be impressive," and the room's back wall fell away in crumbling bricks to reveal a view from miles in the air!

I developed vertigo and grabbed for support. "Whoa. What am I seeing?"

"A trick of the eye. My house is still at ground level. We have special paint-- if you want a computer, just paint a wall. I've done my whole house with it. Outer space, Jolie!"

"You keep mentioning her. What is she, your secretary or something?"

"Not really. She's the city control software, the one that organizes everything."

"Everything?"

"Just about, yes."

"Wow." The scene changed and we were now in the nose of a space craft, shuddering with power as it broke Earth's confines. Deep blue sky became black and the stars blurred for a moment... and we were orbiting Jupiter.

I was amazed. "Is that another visual trick, or do your space ships actually move that fast?"

"Faster. Jolie mocked up a scene from space flight during your century, but we don't do it that way anymore. We can go anywhere we've placed a Null door, instantly."

"A Null Door?"

"A device that utilizes Null Space, which connects one door to the next. No matter how far apart they are, the travel between them is always instantaneous. It's like the doors are separating two adjoining rooms in your house, except the other room could be anywhere in the Universe."

"Double wow. How far away have you gotten? Pluto?"

He smiled primly. "Andromeda Galaxy."

I winced. "That's over two million light years away!"

"Two and a half million. We found a wormhole and chucked a Null doorway through it," he confessed.

"Makes sense... you can go wherever it takes you because of the guaranteed return ticket."

"Exactly."

"So what's out there? Have you found many habitable worlds?"

"Hundreds."

"I guess that solved Earth's overpopulation issue."

"Of course. There were lots of volunteers for colonizing... billions, actually. And thanks to Carbonite molding technology we weaved entire cities onto those planets in only months. "

"Weaved?"

"Carbonite is a gooey long string molecule, similar to your emerging carbon nanotubes. Machinery literally knits a building, or a bridge or any structure, then solidifies each section with a burst of high-intensity ultraviolet light. It's the closest material to indestructible we've found."

The way he spoke, the future sounded promising! "Have you found any sentient life on any of those planets?"

"No, not yet. But there are some sub-sentient species that are pretty smart. There's a creature on Elshanar called a Nork that's pretty intelligent on its own. It looks like a small centaur with a rabbit face. It has four legs, and two arms with 'hands' that fold like dinner plates for grasping. They live in villages made out of the bones and sinew and pelts of an enormous airbivore called a Mowoon that grows to be over three hundred feet long."

"Huge! What's an airbivore?"

"It survives on the organic molecules found in that planet's atmosphere. Humans can't live there-- the air, well, it changes us."

"Into what?"

He shuddered. "Into Mowoons." I shuddered, too. Brightly he chirped, "But we found a flat planet!"

Astounded, I gasped, "You... are... kidding!"

"Flat as a plate. And it spins like a coin and turns like a wheel simultaneously. Cortare has a 36 hour day and a 292 day year. That's the same number of year-hours as Earth."

"How coincidental! Funny that it's shaped like a coin and you named it after one."

"Cortare?"

"Quarter. It has Washington's face."

He was surprised. "I never realized. You know we don't have money anymore, right?"

"Maybe not, but somebody knew something when they named it. So, can you fall off the edge?"

He laughed. "A lot of people wanted to know that. The edge is actually five hundred miles thick, and it seems like a dangerous cliff when looking over. But the moment you step off, some odd gravitational effects go to work, because instead of falling you cling to the ground... and suddenly you are standing sideways! There's a famous picture of a couple standing on either side of the edge. They're toe to toe, but are at 90 degrees to one another-- show us, Jolie!"

Broose's background expanded some more, until I was part of his scene. My kitchen disappeared behind the realistic image. His wall displayed the picture as though we were actually on Cortare, standing at the edge. Thanks to computer paint on the floor of Broose's house, when I looked down I was also on the edge of that endless precipice, and I involuntarily scrambled back. "That is odd!" I said, much more composed than I felt.

"Watch this!" Broose laughed, and stepped over the edge. There must have been some major calculating going on as the computer tried to display an impossible image-- Broose slipping into a 90 degree angle to me and his bedroom and my kitchen, and all within a photograph of Cortare. Somehow it worked, because he didn't fall to his doom but instead walked sideways to the motionless image of the woman and put his arm around her. Eerie!

"How about that tour of future Earth?" I hinted, wanting to get away from the weirdness.

"Back home, Jolie," he said, and everything righted itself. I sighed relief. We were now in a pavilion overlooking a gorgeous modern city. "Welcome to Aden."

I gasped, gazing at the clean white superstructures and lush grounds. "So this is my city?"

"Your concept, yes. It's everyone's city."

"Of course."I was astonished. "Look at this place! It is flawless!"

"What flaws it had were long ago eradicated."

I squinted, taking in far-off detail. A thin ribbon wrapped around the huge superskyscrapers and passed between them in a graceful arc, continuing on like an unwound ball of twine until too far to see. It looked familiar to me and I had to ask. "Is that a ride?"

He nodded proudly. "Roller Coaster Transport. The first public roller coaster peoplemover. Now all cities have them. It passes every point in Aden and climbs to the top of each megascraper."

Intrigued, I asked, "How long is it?"

"Thirty-five miles around the city. If you take the express you can be back at the same station in a half hour."

"Now I'm jealous."

"The first one will be built in about 20 years from now... your now. Just wait-- I predict you'll be riding this daily. Let's move in closer. Jolie?"

"Yes, Broose?"

"Let's take a gander from the front car's view."

"I recommend sitting first."

"Thanks." He walked over to a couple of easy chairs and sat down, gesturing towards the empty one. I'm not sure if he was planning a joke or if he was just forgetful, but when I sat down in his chair I went through it, ending up on my own kitchen floor, rubbing my ass. He bit his lip. "Oh, crap! I forgot. Are you all right? You probably should sit on one of the chairs in your own house."

"I'll do that, you..." I said, standing up and glaring. I was about to issue a eulogy of emphatic epithets but my thought process was cut off as our position changed with a blur, rushing from our viewpoint in the pavilion right to the front coaster car in perfect time... just as it rounded the pinnacle towards the first drop. If any of you enjoy the rush of a well-designed modern roller coaster the way I do, well, then you wouldn't have been ready for this either. Today's coasters are breathtaking things, and they achieve that with a high speed plummet towards the ground from ten or fifteen stories in the air.

But this coaster had just climbed to the top of an Aden megascraper, buildings which start at 150 stories. This one was two hundred. Imagine going to the observation deck of the Empire State Building... and plunging off. Well, you'd only fall half as far as we did. And while it started out as a straight drop, this coaster had other plans for us. It took us into an extended whirling corkscrew. It wound around the skyscraper in tight circles and at one point took a shortcut through the building, in what I hoped was a tunnel built through it and not the first part of an accidental freefall drop which would conclude with our mutual deaths. We didn't die (not that I would have, as an intangible visiting his world). It did barrel rolls and loop-de-loops and then hung us upside down for an hour (or maybe ten seconds) to stare at the thousand feet of air between us and the ground. That was a perfect location for me to vomit, and puke I did.

Regardless of where I chose to throw up, it ended up on my kitchen floor. Fortunately I hadn't eaten yet and my stomach was nearly empty. Broose shouted to me, "If you get nauseous, try closing your eyes... this is all an illusion, after all!" His own eyes were wide open to match his mouth. I thanked him internally for his tardy advice and stepped out of the screamingly fast coaster car to my doom, or at least to clean the floor.

"End, Jolie." His room returned with no sign of Aden or the coaster. "Too much for you, huh?"

"The realism is astonishing. Honestly, I felt like I was skydiving without a 'chute. And nobody gets hurt on these train cars of death?"

"Hang on, hang on-- I didn't say that," and then he grinned. "But no, they don't. Safety first!"

"Safety first," I agreed. "And in Aden, heart-stopping fear, second."

"Heh, heh. Let's give you the two bit tour, from a tram this time. Jolie, please."

"Watch the tram car doors, please. Please watch the tram car doors. Keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. Pick up your missing hands and feet at the Lost and Found after the tour," Jolie droned as the scene changed to a Universal Studios-type tram route through the heart of Aden. I laughed at the silly joke and wondered if the computer was this human-sounding all the time.

The city was lush and verdant. There were wide lanes but no vehicles, unless you counted bicycles and other self-propelled machinery I had no name for. People were taking their time, greeting each other and hugging. Large grassy fields were swarming with activity coming from the young and healthy populace.

"Where are all the old people?" I found myself asking.

"Some of these people are over a hundred."

"Who?" I demanded, not seeing anyone that looked older than perhaps forty.

"Let's see... umm, her." He pointed at a woman in a bikini climbing a rope without using her feet.

"Who are you bullshitting? She's only 25!" I was drooling a little.

"We take pride in our appearance and to that end, take care of ourselves and take the recommended supplements to reverse skin and organ aging. You can look whatever age you wish."

"Nobody seems to be overweight, either."

"Well... that's just good old fashioned exercise and healthy eating."

"Oh... bummer."

"Did you know we've copied the McDonald's Big Mac? Our version tastes the same but only has 180 calories and 2 grams of fat, fewer calories than an apple and a glass of orange juice."

"Well, that's a diet I could be on. I love apples."

Broose looked confused. "When we aren't working, most of us socialize, and when the weather is nice we do it outside. When it's cold, dark or rainy..." Jolie took the cue and changed the scene, and we were inside of a gymnasium whose back wall was so far off I couldn't see it. There was sophisticated exercise equipment, some which involved multiple people to operate. There were traditional courts; basketball, volleyball, badminton and tennis plus a few that I did not recognize.

We rolled down through the ginormous gym and I realized this must be a virtual vehicle, as we were driving right through people who didn't see us-- I almost caught a ball as it was thrown by me, but it was immaterial and passed through my hands. Now we were at indoor fields-- baseball, football, soccer and others, one after the other with no end in sight. "How big is this gym?"

"Big. It's a donut shape that's completely underground and encircles the city."

"Isn't it too big to get around on foot?"

"Sure."

"so how do they get around?"

"Outside of the gym, in a bigger circle, is the underground transportation that moves everybody around."

"Is that why I saw no cars up on the surface?"

"Yes... they're all down here." He directed the tram to pass through the outer wall; when we did we were suddenly on a big racetrack. The floor was metal and the vehicles resembled bumper cars, lightweight and without roofs, which were whizzing around in organized pandemonium. I noticed that, although some were careening disruptively, all the others simply steered around them. There were no angry horns or collisions or even the sound of tires shrieking to an unplanned stop."What gives?" I asked, gesturing at the mania.

"Jolie. People just enter their destinations and then take a nap if they wish, she takes over and guides the vehicle."

"Impressive!" I said, impressed. Then I pointed at the disruptive car. "But what about the occasional dingleberry... like that guy?"

"Some people want to try driving themselves. And they can, up to a point. Sometimes Jolie takes over to, you know, prevent death and mayhem, that sort of thing."

"How do you leave the city without outside cars?"

"The motor pool has regular cars when needed. Check out a car to hit the open road between cities, visit small towns, see the wonders of the world, etcetera."

"What about fuel? If you don't use money how can you refuel on the outside?"

He grabbed a virtual window and called out some specs, and a 3-d model of a vehicle popped up in front of us. He manipulated it with some finger motions; it expanded until we were inside the engine compartment. It was empty except for some small rectangular projections fastened along the inner walls. Broose 'opened' one and 'handed' me virtual goo. "We don't need to. Power gel."

I handled the glowing lump, turning it over. "How does it work?"

"We organize vast numbers of electrons into a solid mass, held in place magnetically. What you're holding will power the vehicle for 50,000 miles."

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, since they had 200 years to figure this stuff out. I was surprised anyway, though. "Do you still use airplanes for travel?"

"Well, there are still a couple of air vehicles. They are risky, as you know, and noisy, and spew pollutants into the air, although they now largely run on water vapor. Mostly we use trains to get everywhere."

"Like in the 1850's?" I was surprised, but waited for the twist.

"With a couple of differences. These are underground."

"O-kay," I said, scratching my head. "Underground railroads. Just like the 1850's. Do you rescue slaves, too?"

He laughed. "But here's where the similarity ends. These are maglev trains running through a tube with no air. Those suckers shoot at speeds of 352,000 UPH."

"That's crazy fast, I think. 352,000... wait. UPH? What kind of measuring system is that?"

"Units per hour."

I frowned. "How big is your unit?"

He feigned shock and said, "Now that's a personal question!"

"I just need to know so I can compare it to mine. How long is it?"

"Just because we're family doesn't mean you can get familiar!"

He was toying with me and I was completely oblivious, and getting irritated. "I need to know yours so I can hold it next to mine and form a ratio between them."

"Hey pal, there's no way we're crossing swords."

"Swords?" I was confused until I reviewed the last minute in my head. I let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Keep it in your pants, horndog. It's good to know the future still has bad comedians."

He guffawed, "Cock jokes are always funny!"

"Real answer this time, please... Shecky?"

"Okay, okay. A unit is about 300 feet."

I did some quick calculating. "Thats over a million miles an hour!"

He stared at me curiously. "It is not over a million miles an hour. Use a calculator."

I grabbed one and let out a whistle. "20,000 miles an hour? I can't wrap my head around that speed. They're closing in on 1,000 miles an hour at the Salt Flats and that seems crazy."

"A free running land vehicle moving at 1,000 miles an hour? That was insane alright."

"Agreed. But a train going 20K an hour? You must miss the platform a lot."

He let out a chuckle. "If that happens, we get shot out of top-mounted cannons and float to the ground on parachutes."

"Sounds like hell if you're bringing the birthday cake. So is Aden the best city on Earth?"

He snorted. "Practically the worst."

I was astonished. "The worst? That doesn't seem right! Just look at it-- it's the finest city I've ever seen!"

"Oh, it's beautiful all right, but don't forget that Aden was the first Perfect World city. That makes it the oldest. You would not believe some of the fantastic structures we've put up around the world since then."

"Really? Like what?"

"They redid the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Metal fatigue got the old one."

I frowned. "That doesn't sound so fantastic."

"The new one's bigger."

"How much bigger?"

"When you reach the top you're effectively weightless."

I was stunned. "Wha...? That's gotta be over two hundred miles above sea level!"

"Even more. And the Ohm Tower in New New Delhi is a three hundred story building shaped like an upside down 'U'. The towers stand a mile apart at their bases, and are connected with an immense multistory bridge w-a-y up. Some joker decided to make the bottom floor of the bridge in Crystanite, the clear version of Carbonite, but most occupants prefer to cover their floors rather than look half a mile straight down to what would certainly be a very hard landing."

I shuddered. "I'm with them."

And then there's the Pacific Rim Bridge, which is a continuous roadway that connects over 900 islands with the continents of China, Australia and North and South America."

"Wow. You'd definitely need one of those power packs and a month to get around."

He laughed. "Yeah. Or use the bridge train and get there in minutes."

I shook my head. "There's so much to see in your world, I mean, your worlds. I would love to actually visit, none of this smoke and mirrors stuff."

He smiled, a little sadly and agreed, "It would be astounding. Sadly, I don't know how to make that happen. Nothing solid gets through."

I frowned. "What about the Null door?"

"What about it?"

"If it can transport you through any two distances instantly... "

His eyes widened with insight. "Then maybe it'll work with time, too! You really are a genius! Wait here. I'm going to propose this to the Big Heads and see what they think."

He disappeared and I was left with a big gray irregular view of the future in my kitchen. I sighed and began preparing breakfast.

I was finishing my sixth strip of bacon when he reappeared.

He was wearing a long beard and stared wistfully at the succulent smoked meat as it dropped down my gullet. "You couldn't wait?"

"Look who's talking! How long have you been gone? It felt like fifteen minutes."

He snorted. "Try two years. That was quite an idea you had. Gimme five!"

He held up his hand to receive a slap, and to humor him I launched my palm quickly through his gossamer digits. Only they weren't the wispy smoke I was expecting, and stung when they contacted.

"Ow!" I stared at his arm reaching through the gray fringe into my kitchen, my mouth unhinged and wide with shock. With a deft motion I grabbed him and pulled. To my disbelief he shot towards me, and we both sprawled onto my kitchen floor. He didn't move and I thought he was unconscious, but I could hear him breathing deeply; he said, "Mmmm... bacon."

I stood and pulled him up. "You did it! You are now standing in the early 21st century, Broose! Man, I cannot wait to try that Roller Coaster for real!"

He said nothing and looked around awkwardly, then mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that? I missed it."

With deep embarrassment he repeated himself, barely louder. "You can't go."

I felt lightheaded and filled with profound loss. Sitting heavily I asked, "Why not?"

He sat beside me, chair scraping against linoleum with a grunt. "I'd like to say it's not you, but it is. See, you're the impetus of the future. You create the staggering change that saves the people and the planet."

"So I should be welcome there, then," I said, trying to keep the plea from my voice.

"Oh, you would be... only by the time you got to the other side of the portal, it would all be gone. The portal would probably be gone as well, and you'd be trapped in a future of uncertain design. I wouldn't exist, either, since you would never meet your future wife before you got stuck in 2295. So," and he put his hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, but it's just impossible."

I stood up and paced. "That's just crazy. How could I create this massive change you speak of? I'm just jotting stuff into my Codex, about what's wrong with humanity and how I think society should be alternately structured. I don't have the drive to change a world of people... I like my SDR too much."

"SDR?"

"Sex and Drugs and Rock."

He chuckled. "And you think that will stop if you become serious? Don't you write about a world designed perfectly for the people who inhabit it? Why do you think any of that would stop if you went on, let's say, 35,000 college campus lectures over the course of your life, inspiring millions of brilliant young minds to follow your teachings and help make this goal come to pass?"

"What? 35,000 whats?" I wasn't following yet.

His eyes shone. "Say you wrote an inspiring tale to make them think, make them dream of a better future. Maybe you tempt them with the future you saw here today, presented in terms of possibilities. Perhaps you spelled out a plan, one that took them from their grim present and propelled them forward viscerally, like the shifting of continents, irrevocably towards your goal. You could lead by example, find your most promising volunteers and allow their own potential to widen the reality. You don't have to do it all," he smiled and grabbed my arm, firmly. "You just have to get the ball rolling. People are looking for a change, but they don't have a cohesive plan. You do."

I exhaled heavily and recounted his thought process. I admit I'm a smart guy with good ideas, but the one I had next was anything but. He may have seen me as some kind of savior for the world and all, but I'm just a barely graduated college kid with a water cooler full of vodka, and I was probably a little selfish in my desire, but all of that sounded like nothing I wanted to spend my life toiling at. "Let someone else do it!" I shouted, and sprinted into the vortex!

I had no idea what to expect as I dove through. Watching Broose get pulled through it looked like a simple journey through a doorway, but I guess he was right about the paradox of my being there; the portal shuddered violently as I entered and Broose's marvelous computer-painted room shifted from solid to translucent, completing its transition to gone at about the same time the last little piece of my body crossed the event horizon. Even Broose's pleading cry of 'Noooo!' became insubstantial and echoey, melting rapidly into silence like a candle dropped into molten steel.

I fell a few feet to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. The last thing I saw was the beautiful city of Aden blowing away into nothingness, a city of steam become insubstantial.

I arose in a bed soaked with sweat. Waking to a hot LA morning is something I know, but this wasn't it-- it was comfortable outside, a cool 65 degrees.

I'm twenty-one, done with college and like to party so these things happen, but there had been no party, either. Last night had been uneventful (I swear!) but somehow my sobriety-soaked brain had created the most vivid dream of my life. It was a hi-def DVD of strange playing in my head, a cut-crystal cloth of clear I know I could never forget. It doesn't matter what happened; my path in life has just been chosen for me.

I ran to my Codex, unlocked the heavy wooden binder and put pen to paper. I had an idea for a speech that might just change the world.

Copyright 2010 Bruce Ian Friedman