Category: Science Fiction

Wondra Animate

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Photo by Victoria Wendish on Unsplash

Michael ripped the birthday themed paper from a shoebox-sized object. He gasped, “Oh, Aunt Jo. This is exactly what I wanted!” Still clutching the box, he ran around the dining room table and hugged her.

Then turning towards his mom, “Wondra Animate is the coolest. Whatever I make can be programmed to move using an app.” He turned the box over and pointed to the graphics. It showed a finished dinosaur walking across the floor.

“I see.” She looked up at her sister with an eyebrow raised. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Honestly, Lynn. Michael is twelve now. He should be learning coding. The app teaches that and what he makes from the clay gives immediate feedback.”

Lynn pursed her lips and glared at Jo. “I’m all for him learning. Clay is just so messy.” She wrinkled face in disgust. “And it moving is creepy,” she loudly whispered.

While the sisters bickered, Michael slipped away to his room with the box. The last thing concerning him was the cake, ice cream, and certainly not the off-tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. He started the download for the app before he began sculpting the clay.

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Thanksgiving Turkey

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Photo by Charles Deluvio on Unsplash

My son’s family won’t be visiting this Thanksgiving. So rather than spend it alone, I’m trying out the new virtual buffet. They promised an enjoyable family dinner even if you are the only one physically present. The only requirement – wearing their patented, virtual reality glasses.

The self-driving bus pulled into the parking lot of Mama’s Buffet, my city’s version of the virtual buffet. I and a handful of other single, older adults filed off of the bus and into the white building with pink trim. As I waited in line, the scent of roasted turkey and stuffing made my stomach growl. I watched each person in front of me accept their VR glasses and led off to separate dining pods.

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Sam Is Here To Help You

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Photo by Przemyslaw Marczynski on Unsplash

Mildred, my seventy-five-year-old neighbor, greeted me at her door. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Thank you for picking up my groceries.” She alternately shuffled and scooted back from the door with her walker.”

“No trouble. I was stopping by there on my way home from work.” I slipped past her and around the corner to set the bag on the counter. A small cylindrical device on the counter lit up with a sequence of purple and blue lights before fading to a dull gray.

Shuffle, thump, shuffle, thump. Mildred hurried up beside me. “Don’t squish Sam.” She slid the bag to the side so a gap remained between the bag and the cylinder. “Sam, say hello to Marci.”

The device glowed white. “Hello, Marci.”

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My Name Is Silver

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Mathew Pine flung his suitcase into the trunk and slammed the lid. “AGI, take me to the Thunderbird Hotel in Kansas City,” he said, climbing into the passenger compartment. He dropped down onto the bed along the back wall, kicked his shoes off and punched one of the pillows.

“Affirmative,” AGI, the Artificial Global Intelligence, said. Then AGI relayed the instructions to me, Mathew Pine’s self-driving car.

Through a private channel, I replied, “Why does this human not speak to me directly? And why has he not given me a name yet?”

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Virtual Reality

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Photo by David Boca on Unsplash

Lanie stretched and rubbed her arms and legs against the smooth sheets. She murmured to herself and then sat up. She didn’t remember going to bed last night. This felt like home even though it didn’t look right. The last thing she remembered was a friend visiting her. Laine had been old, sick, and in a bed. She felt fine now.

She slipped out of bed and padded off to the bathroom to wash her face and tie her hair back. As she secured her hair, she studied her reflection. That must have been some crazy dream. I don’t look a day over thirty, if that, and my hair is brown. She frowned and shrugged at her reflection, then went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

As she walked to the kitchen, she caught a whiff of coffee and cinnamon. I don’t remember setting the timer on the coffee maker. The microwave beeped so she opened it. A warm cinnamon roll waited inside. Someone must be here with me, but who? Who would know I like cinnamon rolls?

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Master of Disguises

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Photo by Alex Iby on Unsplash

Marty pulled the curtain back enough to see with one eye. The paparazzi camped out beyond the gate at edge of his property. Crowds gathered behind them held taunting signs. A hot pink sign read, ‘Made a deal with the devil, now you have to pay’. An orange one read ‘Thief’. A bright green one read, ‘Marry me’ to which he rolled his eyes.

Universal facial recognition technology used by the police and reporters was foolproof. He couldn’t go anywhere without being spotted. That changed with his newest invention – prototype cloaking device. Before he started using it, he would disguise himself with different clothes or hats. It didn’t matter the time of day or night he left his home. They followed him anywhere he went, peppering him with questions.

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