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 