Guidance - Devolution by Alicia

Devolution

This is our world.

This is our universe.

Humanity was a speck of existence. We… we are the giants who stand on the shoulders of quarks.

***

78^th of Stymphalian, 5608

For the first time in a long time, I once again began to question who I was. Humdrum answers pulsed through my brain: you’re a human presenting as the most prominent result.

I have a routine, as humans do. My routine is to wake up and not die. Not dying is a great daily objective, though not as easily accomplished as you might think. Every few days I pass through the tunnels of a time of truth transcended into dust. Man has left his imprint upon this cave’s walls. I see the archaic infrastructure of an anti-gravitational aeronautical transportation scrawled in the form of a blueprint. In bold letters atop the sheet in an ancient laptop’s typeface, it says BOEING 787 DREAMLINER. Its edges remain pressed behind the glass forged of a distant era, its sheets a mellow cream-white.

I travel the thundering tunnels, wandering in the darkness, wondering of the light.

I press my palm into the dry soil to my right, waiting as it glows to life with a singing enthusiasm.

"Transmitting…"

My impatience level is high, a trait non-existent in the artworks of my ancestors. These humans of old, with such delicate spirit, manoeuvred the globe to seek answers. How could they withstand the hours and days in their medieval flight technology? The 5590s edition of the arc-optic transmat twitters as it prepares for beaming. My hand is inevitably warming to the contact of hyper-carbon fibre on flesh as I wait. I envy my great grandfather, who experienced the speed and processing capacity of the mid 55^th century.

The darkness fades with a soft ping!

The guidance of our forebears has become simplified into a solitary catechism.

“STOP MOVING FORWARD. WE'VE GONE TOO FAR.”

Chasing a dream has become racing from a nightmare. The integrity of humanity has decomposed into the pitch black of loss into which I’m falling.

Crummy lamplight tumbles into existence as I flicker into my mother’s living room. Thin tinkling trembles through the teacups. The strange time-keeper in the corner chimes in a low tenor, bothering Amphisbaena from his slumber by the heater. He growls with a sneer. My mother has a priceless collection of road signs from a millennium ago. They all speak the same message of warning, hidden in undertones as they scream at drivers from their odd pixel manifestations.

I wait for my particles to cease their painful fusion – an unavoidable side effect of the old transmat, the only one we could afford in the new world.

I imagine the day that my cells simply don’t realign.

It’s a possibility.

I simply don’t understand humans anymore. 

~OvO~

Author's Note: 467 words. I actually went at least 5 minutes over. I wrote more than half of this blind before I actually remembered I had a stimulus and three words to shove in. So it barely relates, and the three words really were shoved in. 

I actually had many different thoughts on the direction of this story as I was writing, and it was actually my 3rd idea. My first was a repressed Victorian era young lady, my second was a young man leaving for the war with the story from the perspective of the mothers left behind (how typical), and this was my third. 

My story is a post-apocalyptic view on humans, which struggles to restore its previous height of enlightenment, even with the ancestors telling them not to, warning them to heed the warnings that they themselves did not. Honestly, it needs a lot of development. I wanted to end it with a view on the past, to maybe the persona's grandfather working with scientists and considering the moral implications etc. etc. But my mum called for dinner and :( food

Some paraphernalia:

• 78th of Stymphalian, 5608 - I made up a futuristic calendar. This story is set in the year 5608, the month Stymphalian, on the 78th day. 
• Stymphalian Birds are man-eating birds from Greek mythology [click the link for wiki page]. 
• Boeing 787 Dreamliner is one of Boeing's newer aeroplane models, introduced in October '11. 
• arc-optic is completely made up. I was thinking of optic fibre speeds. Originally I wrote just optic but it seemed too our-contemporary, so I added a random "arc" in front of it to seem more futuristic.
• hyper-carbon fibre - same as above. I was thinking of those transparent plastic displays we have nowadays. 
• Transmat - is a transport booth from general sci-fi, similar to a transporter in Star Trek. I really couldn't think sci-fi creative enough today. 
• Amphisbaena is a snake with two heads, also from Greek mythology. In my story it's the name of their pet (the futuristic species of which I'll leave to your imagination)

I'm upset about this story, because I wish I was bothered and had enough time to bring it up to standard. Oh well, criticise away! :P