Athena's Choice

by Adam Boostrom

  NOMI

  Now look at you. You’re a real artist. You’re Dali!

  Athena grabs the bottle. Calmly, she un-screws the top and empties its entire thick, red contents onto Nomi’s head.

  ATHENA

  Close, but wrong. I’m Picasso. And this is my smoky yet spicy period.

  NOMI

  Mmmmm. Great art never tasted so good. Come here and let me show you.

  Nomi leans in to kiss Athena, smearing her with sauce from her own face. Athena pulls away and turns her head to the left. Nomi sees her looking to the side, and looks herself. Together they both see —

  THE DESSERT TABLE

  Pies, cakes, and treats of every kind adorn a pristine picnic table.

  Slipping out of Nomi’s grasp, Athena races to the dessert table. Nomi is right on her heels. They both reach the table and grab a cream pie that quickly ends up in the other’s face and hair. Giggling uncontrollably, they slide to the ground together just as Ms. Fletcher appears.

  MS. FLETCHER

  Girls!! What is the meaning of this! Have you completely forgotten how to behave!

  ATHENA

  Forgotten? I’m pretty sure there was never a time when Nomi knew how to behave.

  NOMI

  So true.

  MS. FLETCHER

  Ms Vosh, what would your mother think if she saw you like this? Covered in food like a wild animal?

  NOMI

  Don’t worry, A. Let me handle this. Ms. Fletcher, we are so sorry.

  Nomi climbs to her feet and grabs an untouched cream pie. She brings it to eye level, and slowly smears it into Ms. Fletcher’s face.

  NOMI

  There, A. I fixed that for you.

  Nomi falls over into Athena’s arms as they both topple to the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

  MS. FLETCHER

  Girls, I never!!!

  CUT TO BLACK

  June 9, 2099

  20

  On the trip back to Public Safety Headquarters, Captain Bell worked busily on her display, air-clicking and swiping into space. Athena tried meekly to get her attention. “Captain Bell?” she moused. The captain gave no response. Athena tried again. “Captain Bell!”

  The captain flashed a dismissive sideways-glance that did not require moving her head. “What is it? What do you want?”

  “I think I know why the Core told you to find me.”

  Immediately, the captain’s right hand dropped from the air into her lap. Her fierce blue eyes expanded to twice their previous size. She turned her entire body to face Athena. “Do you now? Go on,” she commanded.

  “I think the Core chose me because of my dreams. Somewhere out there, there’s a truth in a library that only I can find.”

  For the next several minutes, Athena described in vivid detail everything she had seen and experienced in her series of subconscious visions — from the crumbling building, to the poetic buffalo, to the burning book filled with demons and sin.

  As she spoke, the captain’s gaze never wavered from its focus on her. “Hmmm,” Valerie replied at the end of the tale. “When we get back to the PSHQ, I want you to meet with someone. Michelle Evans. She’s one of our top signature-matching specialists.”

  The captain then returned to her work, not speaking again for the rest of the trip.

  Signature Matching

  From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

  “Digital Signature Matching,” “Digital Patterns,” and “Sigs” all redirect to here

  ▲ Overview:

  A Signature, or sig, is the set of all qualities displayed in any creative work. It can refer to a painter’s use of particular colors and themes, to a geneticist’s use of particular nucleotide chains and genetic markers, to a programmer’s use of particular command-loops and syntax. The term’s modern definition was first coined in 2082.

  Primarily, signatures are used for a data-intensive procedure known as signature-matching, whereby two or more disparate works are compared for similarity. Through the use of machine-learned pattern-recognition, and other sophisticated analyses, artificial intelligences can calculate all the commonalities between two similar works, and assign them a “signature-match-percentage” from 0 to 100.

  ▼ Calculation Metrics

  ▼ Match Percentages and the Legal Definition of Plagiarism

  ▲ Further Reading:

  For more information on sigs, including technical specifications for measuring sig-matches, see The Signature of Art by former AI, The Second Core.

  ▼ Famous Examples

  ▼ Other Comparative Techniques

  ▼ Submit Your Work for Sig-Matching

  ▼ Recent Recordings

  Last modified by Ferre11sq on 01 June 2099

  June 9, 2099

  21

  On the fortieth floor of the PSHQ, Athena followed Captain Bell through a corridor of crowded cubicles. Surrounding the cubicles on every side, panes of glass shone brightly in colors both solid and opaque. Athena tried to figure out the meaning behind the color-coding but couldn’t decipher any pattern. At the end of the maze, she received an official introduction.

  “Ms. Vosh,” announced the captain, “this is PS Officer Michelle Evans. Michelle is one of our best sig-matchers. If your dream has any connection to this crime, she'll find it.”

  Officer Evans leapt up from her lev-chair and enthusiastically greeted Athena. Her genuine smile exuded real warmth. Her voluminous blonde hair bounced as she moved. Privately, Athena took note of the woman’s voluptuous frame. Officer Evans’ chosen body-fat appeared to be north of twenty-five percent. Athena wondered if perhaps Ms. Evans was a fan of Peter Paul Rubens.

  “Michelle,” continued the captain, “Ms. Vosh is helping us to recover the Lazarus Genome. More to the point, she’s been having some unusual dreams. I want you to run the images she’s been seeing for sig-matches. Let me know if anything interesting comes up. Athena, tell Officer Evans everything you’ve told me.” Valerie tapped both women on their shoulders. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

  Michelle cheered gleefully once Captain Bell had traveled out of ear-shot. “Oh, this will be much more fun than what I was supposed to do today.” Her wide grin proudly displayed her prominent two front teeth.

  Grabbing at thin air with her hand, Officer Evans summoned a lev-chair from across the room. It glided over, stopping in front of her work station. Athena seated herself before a desk covered with vertical panels of electric-glass, roughly positioned in the shape of a large rectangle. Within the rectangle, the panels’ interior edges shot out at competing angles for artistic effect.

  “Ready when you are,” said Michelle.

  Once again, Athena recounted the first of her peculiar pair of dreams. As she spoke, her words created images on the screens in front of her. Acting as a sketch-artist, the Public Safety computer transformed everything she said into a picture, and then, with further guidance from Officer Evans, into a series of moving pictures complete with sound and dialogue. It took about an hour’s worth of work, mostly in corrective detailing, but eventually, Athena’s entire dream came to exist on the screen in the form of a movie that could be watched by anyone.

  “Looks good,” said Michelle once the detailing was complete. “Love that fire at the end when you touch the book. Anything more to add?”

  Athena shook her head.

  “Cool. Let’s run it.”

  With an air-click, Officer Evans released the power of the Public Safety signature-matching engine. Almost immediately, direct matches appeared on the screen. The buffalo’s stoic expression, for instance, was shown by combinatorial analysis to have been stolen from the face of one of Athena’s former classmates. The pattern of the burning flames originated in a movie she had seen the previous summer. The picture of the endless meadow traced back to a memory of a place Athena had visited as a child. Every image from the dream, it seemed, had some antecedent that could be found in her own life.
<
br />   “These all have to do with me,” remarked Athena. “Shouldn’t your computer be looking for sig-matches beyond me?”

  “Nah,” replied Michelle. “Don’t need to worry about that. No one ever creates anything new. It’s always just bits and pieces stolen from somewhere. Since you are the dreamer, the computer is saving time by only referencing the dream’s imagery against your own memories.”

  After a couple of minutes, the computer had found the original source for every image contained within Athena’s dream, save one. The crumbling, six-columned library appeared to have no connection at all to anything in Athena’s life.

  “That’s weird,” mused Michelle, as she pondered on the mystery displayed in front of her.

  “My home computer couldn't find anything like it either,” offered Athena.

  Michelle bit her bottom lip in frustration. “Yes, but your home computer can’t do what ours can. Let’s focus on this library of yours and open things up.”

  With a series of air-clicks, Michelle widened the search-field to include every building on file, not just those connected to Athena. Seconds later, the PS computer came back with its analysis: there existed no structures particularly like it anywhere on earth.

  “Whoa,” said Michelle, wide-eyed. She arched in her chair, literally taken aback by the incredible result.

  “Uhhhhh, wow,” she repeated. It took a minute for her to regain herself. Her face looked as though she had just seen a ghost. “How can there not be any matches for this? I wonder if…” She tapped her index finger softly against her chin as she thought. “Maybe if…” her voice trailed off into an incoherent mumble.

  In the background droned a continuous hum of Public Safety officers at work, placing calls and shuffling about.

  Michelle again leaned forward in her chair with renewed vigor. She altered the parameters and reinitiated her search. However, the results came back the same. According to the Public Safety computer, Athena’s library had simply appeared out of thin air. There were no records of anything precisely like it having ever been built. No blueprints planning its construction. No publications heralding its completion. There was nothing. Officer Evans ran the test a couple more times. Same result.

  “I’m going to need to ask my supervisor about this,” she sighed after a long pause. “There must be something wrong with our archives. We have trillions of records going back centuries, and everything is meticulously catalogued. There’s no chance that most of your library didn’t come from something that was built in the real world. No chance.”

  Frustratedly, Michelle pushed herself away from her desk. “Athena,” she ordered, “go take a break and check out the room they assigned to you next door. The captain set you up in PS housing until the genome is recovered.” Michelle pointed her finger in the direction of a young brunette officer, standing at the other end of the office. On Athena’s display, the young woman was highlighted in lime green. “It’s Officer Miller’s job to escort you to your room. I’ll message you as soon as we get to the bottom of this.” Briskly, Michelle departed.

  Left behind, Athena waited in the seat she had been given, refusing to move. She attempted to access the computer in front of her but found it locked. For thirty minutes, she stubbornly stayed put, hoping Michelle would quickly return, or that some other PS officer would come by with an answer for her, but no one ever did. Eventually, she gave up and paced over to her designated guide.

  “Ready to go?” asked Officer Miller.

  Athena nodded.

  “Please follow me.”

  Twisting again through corridors and cubicles, the two women made their way into a featureless, all-glass elevator. The elevator carried the pair down to the second floor of the PSHQ, then horizontally across the street, and then back up to the seventy-fourth floor of the neighboring skyscraper.

  “Welcome to Public Safety guest apartments,” said the elevator.

  Five Deadliest Terror Attacks in Global History

  From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

  This article ranks historical attacks by their immediate lethality.

  To see the rankings for secondary deaths, see Deadliest Terror Attacks (long-term effects).

  ▼ 1. The First Thermonuclear Launch; 2049; Novosibirsk, Russia; Carried out by Russian Dissidents

  ▼ 2. The Christmas Warhead Detonation; 2050; Greeley, Colorado, USA; Carried out by White Nationalists

  ▼ 3. The Eid Bombing; 2041; Jammu and Kashmir; Carried out by Religious Zealots

  ▼ 4. The Second Thermonuclear Launch; 2050; Samara, Russia; Carried out by Russian Dissidents

  ▼ 5. The Congo Massacre; 2038; Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo; Carried out by Freedom Fighters

  Last modified by RockRhoda on 2 April 2093

  June 9, 2099

  22

  “Your guest room comes with a standard Aasha unit…” announced Officer Miller, as she and Athena arrived at the door to Public Safety guest apartment 7418. Inside the apartment, Athena observed a completely-empty, conically-shaped space formed by two walls diverging out from the entrance. On the far end of the room, the walls came together via a curving, floor-to-ceiling window.

  “Or, if you prefer, you can import your own Aasha unit from home.”

  The newly-constructed apartment spanned barely fifty square meters. What it lacked in size, however, it more than made up for in modernity.

  “Everything is made out of programmable plastic,” declared Athena’s host, “so just tell the home computer what room configuration you want, and she’ll reprogram all the furniture for you.”

  Officer Miller swiped her finger into the air. In response, an empress-sized bed grew from out of the floor. She swiped again and the bed melted into a dining table surrounded by eight stools.

  “The room has, like, twenty settings, but mostly people only ever use the living room, kitchen, and bedroom,” explained Officer Miller. Onto Athena’s display, she flicked a set of layout specs. “Here’s the guide of what each room looks like.” She walked in a quick circle around the room. “Um…common areas are on floors ten and fifty, if you get lonely.”

  “Got it,” replied Athena.

  “Alright, then. If that's all…” Officer Miller turned and began to leave.

  Athena stopped her with a question. “Do you know when I might hear back from Captain Bell or Officer Evans? About the Lazarus case?”

  “Yeah, I don't know anything about that,” the brunette PS officer moaned. She continued to leave. “It’s not like they would tell me.” The front door whooshed close.

  From the height of the seventy-fourth floor, Athena’s apartment possessed quite a view of the city below. She rose on her tip-toes to peer out of her north-easterly facing window, catching glimpses of downtown Chicago and, between other buildings, long blue slivers of Lake Michigan. Restless, she considered going for a walk outside, but paced instead inside the room. She checked her messages, and then paced some more. She felt like a runner waiting for a starting gun that wouldn’t fire.

  Hours passed. Athena called her mom. They shared displays and made plans to meet the following night. More time passed.

  For dinner, Aasha prepared an entree of baked potato flakes, and lab-grown beef medallions topped with arugula, and drizzled with maple syrup. While she ate, she watched a 3D documentary from the seventies about Grace Antares and happiness profiling titled, The Doctor Who Knows You Better Than You Know Yourself.

  Outside her window, the city descended into night.

  Massage Implants

  From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

  “Massage Implants,” “Massagers,” “Implants,” and “Buzzers” all redirect to here

  ▲ Overview:

  The term “massage implants,” also known as “massagers,” or more colloquially ‘buzzers,’ refers to the series of tiny heating, cooling, and vibrating nodes that get implanted into the subcutaneous tissue and musculature of a woman in search of pleasurable relaxati
on. They tend to number from a few dozen to a few hundred.

  Typically, massagers are first implanted along a subject’s neck, back, hands, and feet. However, it is not uncommon for them to exist throughout the entire body.

  Because of their popularity, massage implants have become a trillion-dollar business, and have fueled an entire cottage industry of massage programmers, or “choreographers,” who create and sell enjoyable sequences of massager activation.

  ▲ Further Reading:

  For more information on massage implants, including an in-depth history of the 2080’s battle for corporate market-share, see the book, Buzzer Business, by Feel Good CEO Pricilla Romanoff.

  ▼ Best-Selling Massagers

  ▼ Top-Reviewed Choreographers

  ▼ Implant Clinics in your area

  ▼ Recent Recordings

  Last modified by JustTree4Me on 03 Nov 2098

  June 9, 2099

  23

  With the sun’s disappearance, Athena abandoned her hope that Public Safety might soon contact her. She settled into her room with a glass of red wine then ordered out for some paints and a brush. Compelled by a sudden, strange desire, she worked hard to create a new image on the blank canvas of her apartment’s southern wall: a massive, Hieronymus-Bosch-like, three-paneled triptych.

  In the leftmost panel of her painting, she created, hand-in-hand, a nude man and woman. They stood under a snake-filled apple tree, surrounded by blue skies and green grass. In the middle panel, she painted, on brown and dying grass, a series of excessively lustful scenes featuring crowds of carefree persons smiling as they engaged in various acts of sexual conjugation. In the rightmost panel, she painted a fiery, charred world filled with disfigured demons. War, pestilence, hunger, and death could be seen working together to wreak havoc upon the poor, sinful souls unfortunate enough to be trapped forever in an endless hell.

  “What am I doing?” Athena asked out loud to the empty room as her painting neared completion. The triptych in front of her — much like her recreation of the crumbling library from the previous day — looked so unlike anything she had ever produced before. Just two days ago, her brush had only ever brought hopeful and inspiring images into the world. Now it was as though she could no longer control the chaos leaking from her soul.