The Drifter is a four part sci-fi serial I penned for The WOD Magazine. The first three parts have been published. You lucky readers of this blog can read all four parts. Just go to my page “Flash Fiction” and you can read it in its entirety. It is only 2,800 words total. It was a bit of a challenge to write flash fiction in four parts. I hope you find the story entertaining and thought provoking.
Filed under Humor and Observations, Writing
If you missed Part One, search for “The Drifter” in the Search block on my home page.
The Drifter
A Sci-Fi Serial Story
By Michael Bradley
Part Two
Tony paused, staring at the light stick in his hand as he illuminated the large screen in front. Where am I? He looked behind him at the amphitheater filled with his graduate students. His TA, Monica Salazar, stood operating the computer panel. She gave him a look of concern.
Tony remembered now, he was explaining the latest problems experienced with neural retrograde physiology. It was easier to modify children than to remove the troublesome thoughts and memories from an adult. The class murmured as he continued to remain silent.
“That is all class. Remember, the hurdle we face for peaceful coexistence is no longer in our next generation. Our children will be better than us. We must rise to the challenge to make ourselves better as well. Go ahead now, we are stopping early.” Tony put down the light stick and hurried from the auditorium. Monica followed close behind.
“Professor Perez, are you alright?”
He remembered her too, but not young like this. Yes, she had been his brilliant assistant, but now she was his lab manager. She had just told him twenty years from now to think about his index finger. Why?
“Yes, I’m fine. I figured it out, the block, the problem!” Tony Perez rushed to his office and started clicking away on his screen.
Monica looked on in awe as she saw him display the formula, the chemical compounds and the surgical procedures to isolate conflict and expiate them from the adult mind. “Professor, that looks like it will work. You have made peace on Earth possible in our life times.” She forgot decorum and jumped up and down, then lunged onto him, giving him a crushing hug.
“Monica, easy now, people will talk.” Her hug was so fierce she scooted his chair against the desk, crimping his finger between them. He held it up, his index finger was bleeding. My index finger?
Monica saw blood on the tip of his finger. “Oh, I am so sorry, let me get the first aid kit.”
Tony smiled, “No need Monica. You know, this is the only time I ever hurt this finger?”
She looked at him puzzled.
Tony explained, “I think I understand my index finger now.”
“Those are some deep thoughts Tony, you understand your finger?” The Earth President laughed at the control wheel of his private plane. “You crack me up Tony. This vacation in Maine is going to do us both a world of good.”
Tony was back in the co-pilot chair on the sleek jet, flying over New York City, the World Headquarters, with his friend. Tony’s mind reeled. It was just eighteen years ago, back in my office, or was it?
“So Tony, now that we have world peace and are colonizing space, what do you have planned? I mean, it must be kind of a let down, solving world peace and all.” The Earth President laughed. “I mean if I did something like that in my first term, I don’t know what I would run on next. Maybe it’s different for you brainy types.”
“Yeah…maybe…” Tony tried to get some perspective. He looked at his index finger. It had a tiny scar barely visible.
The President looked over, smiling, “I thought you said you had that finger figured out?”
Tony turned, “Yeah, it’s just…”
“It’s just what?” The rescue responder was shaking him.
Tony looked at himself, he was in the same clothing, but it was torn and tattered. “Who am I? What happened?”
“He’s a bit confused, let’s get him into the rescue pod and over to the PeaceCenter. The Peacekeepers will fix him up in no time.”
Tony protested. “Wait! My name is Tony Perez, I am a friend of the Earth President.”
The crew laughed. “Yeah, and I’m Moon President, that guy there is Mars President. Come on fellah, you ain’t the inventor of world peace and you sure ain’t with the President. His plane crashed yesterday and he’s dead.”
Tony felt tears drip down his face. “Dead? I was just there a minute ago?”
He felt a hard shelled case click and hiss as it was sealed over him. Outside he heard one more comment before the sleep gas took him.
“Yeah, this guy is definitely brain scrambled.”
Filed under Humor and Observations, Writing
I decided to a serial sci-fi story for The WOD Magazine. I will post episodes here. Let me know what you think. Now… for the world premier… Episode One of The Drifter
The Drifter
A Sci-Fi Serial Story
By Michael Bradley
Part One
With a shocking blare of white light and an intake of breath Tony burst into reality. Looking around, he was strapped down on a bed in a sanitized room, like a hospital. A man in a lab coat turned and looked down at him.
“Awake now are you?”
“Where am I? Why am I here?” Tony sputtered.
“You took quite a shock; we are making sure you are well. This is the PeaceCenter. We are healing you.” The man tapped away on his hand held device.
Tony moved his neck about taking in the scene. “What shock?”
“Well when we pulled you from the pod you said you were time traveling.” The man shook a bit with restrained laughter.
“Pod?”
The stranger squinted and flashed a pen light device in Tony’s eyes. “Yes, the retrieval pod. You were found wandering about talking nonsense. I’m afraid your brain is not what it should be. After some tests we can fix you up.”
“Fix me up? I don’t want you tampering with my brain.” Tony struggled against his restraints, to no avail.
“You don’t want to be at peace? To take your place as a productive citizen of society?” The man made a dismissive ‘tsk-tsk’ sound.
“I don’t want to be at peace like some robot, I want to be me. What is wrong with you Doctor?”
“Doctor? What an antiquated term. I am a Peacekeeper. We can’t have you railing against society, causing chaos and violence now can we? Why would anyone choose violence, conflict and rebellion over peaceful coexistence? Don’t worry, whoever you are, we will fix your brain patterns so you fit in nicely.”
The man left the room. Alone, Tony struggled to get free. His arms and legs were held firmly in place by some kind of plastic straps. He looked around, frantic.
“I have to get out of this place!” Tony yelled, sweating beading on his forehead.
“Don’t I know it Tony!” Came an answering voice next to him.
Tony looked over from his seat in the cockpit at the pilot. A well-dressed older man was holding the yoke and adjusting the thrusters.
Tony’s mind reeled and he felt sick.
“Where are we?”
“Down there is New York. As soon as we get our vector from station we head up north to my place in Maine like we talked about Tony.” The older man looked over at Tony. His forehead furrowed, “What is it Tony? You didn’t already take it did you?”
Tony had no idea what was going on. He mumbled, “No, of course not.” He looked out the side of the private jet cockpit down at the city. New York gleamed of silver plastisteel and transparent glassrock. “It looks so peaceful from up here.”
“It should Tony, not a crime, not even a punch thrown or an insult uttered since you developed The Protocol forty years ago.” The man listened on his com. “Clearance, we have a north vector. Let’s go relax and get some home-cooked lobster. World Headquarters can wait for a few days. You’ve earned a rest, and even though I’m just a figurehead as Earth President, I could use a few days to be myself too.”
Tony tried to process it all. Who am I? Where am I? When am I?
“Mr. Perez?”
Anthony Perez, Tony to his friends, turned to his lab manager. “Yes, Monica?”
“I’m sorry Boss, it’s just that you seemed to phase there for a minute. The pill will do that. I don’t know how long you will be with me. You have to remember you have the bomb inside you. You have to remember who and when you are and what you have to do.”
“Monica? Bomb?” Tony was trying to hold on, to stay in one place, one time.
“Boss, I warned you not to do this. Stay with me Mr. Perez. Stay with me just a few minutes. Focus on your index finger like you told me to remind you.”
Tony started to look at his finger in curiosity. Bright light flashed, he felt a tug at his mind. Crap, where am I going now?
Michael Bradley - Time Traveler 