As Yet Untitled

Um... yeah I don't know where this came from. It just... did. As always, I am interested in your thoughts, ideas, critiques, etc.  Enjoy!

___________________

            He vaguely remembered the sensation of her soft lips pressing against his own, and her whispering “I love you, Jonathan,” before she left for work. That was three weeks ago. He sighed as he stared at the picture of the two of them together, a picture her sister had taken of the two of them while hiking on vacation just two weeks before she disappeared. Jonathan forced a smile. If he didn’t, he would have wept. Again.

            Rachel was one of those naturally beautiful women that just had a radiance about her. Her chestnut hair and chocolate brown eyes contrasted against her pale complexion. Barely standing 5’3”, her petite figure had the perfect balance of muscle and curve. A button nose and disarming smile completed the package. He had fallen in love with her the first time they met.

            Setting the photograph down, he walked over to the window and opened the blinds, casting the apartment in a crimson glow. It wasn’t the sun’s rays that created the brilliant hues, but rather the amber-toned glass panes of the windows. The artificial light in the apartment seemed more natural, and they relied upon that most often. There really wasn’t much of a view out the windows, anyway. Despite making a salary nearly triple what he made as a computer programmer, the still couldn’t afford a place below the atmospheric threshold.

            If they hadn’t had the apartment previously, and it hadn’t been such a nice apartment in the first place, they likely would have tried to mortgage their lives away to fins someplace closer to the ground. It was ironic – once one of the more sought after locations in Detroit, an eightieth floor flat overlooking the harbor, was now one of the much less desirable locales. All he could see below him was the mist emanating top of the artificial, ozone cloud that hung in the air about twenty stories beneath his feet where it shielded the ground from his view and protected it from the harshness of the sun above.

            No one paid attention to global warming the way they should have. Instead, they used it as a political gimmick and then acted surprised when a series of volcanic eruptions depleted the natural ozone layer for good. It was only through the rushed impletentation of atmospheric generators that mankind was able to lead a relatively normal life on the surface. The problem was, however, that the technolgy was still new and only had limited capacity. The extent of the artificial atmosphere barely reached seven hundred feet. It was enough to allow life to continue, though not enough to envelop the entire world as they had known it. Taller buildings had been retrofitted to seal them and shield them from the harmful, ultraviolet rays that bombarded them, as had commercial aircraft. They had gotten used to it. Mostly.

            Honestly, things hadn’t been that bad. They had adjusted pretty well, and when Patriot Motors offered Jonathan the job as heady of technology services and security, he readily accepted. One of the perks of the job landed him one of the first production hover cars in existence. Security was a premium for Patriot. A conglomeration of the former General Motors and Ford, Patriot Motors had managed to land the one and only patent for hover technology, and there were many that would, and did, kill to get their hands on it. Jonathan had gone through extensive training in Karate, weapons, and other means of self defense, even though he only worked in the security command center. He even had to wear body armor and carry a side arm. He couldn’t image what training ground security forces underwent, but assumed it was something at the advanced military level.

            He couldn’t help but think that Rachel’s disappearance was directly related to his job. Federal authorities, and Patriot itself, were connected to every line of communication he had and were constantly monitoring for any kind of contact from Rachel. There was none. Three weeks had passed since the morning she kissed him goodbye, left for work, and disappeared into oblivion. Jonathan closed his eyes and pictured her pearly smile as the elevator descended. The temperature change in the tiny compartment was readily noticeable the moment the car passed below the threshold. If you has asked him how he had managed to get to his hover car, navigate through downtown Detroit to Patriot Tower IV, and find his way to his underground fortress of an office, he would have no answer for you.

            Things had been relatively quiet. From his perch atop the lecture hall-like security command center, he looked down at the myriad of computer terminals and security screens that showed every square inch of the better part of five city blocks surrounding the town and the manufacturing facility. The complex was about as close to a medieval castle compound as one could get – there was an outer security wall, within which there was a small city in and of itself, containing restaurants, shops and other services for Patriot’s employees. Encircling the main complex was another wall, double the height of the outer ring, the only opening through which was a set of massive iron doors. When new “hovers” came off the line, a set of barriers would rise up from the ground in between the two walls to create a secure corridor through which the hovers would be transported to the outside world. No one got in or out without passing through a series of intrusive security checkpoints. If security didn’t want you in, or wanted to prevent you from leaving, well, you weren’t going anywhere. Since Jonathan had taken over, there hadn’t been a single security breach. Until today.

            Nearly asleep from boredom, Jonathan was jolted awake by the sound of an alarm siren coming from one of the security stations to his right. He stood and walked over.
           
            “What have you got, Dave?”

            “Looks like unauthorized personnel in assembly, sir.”

            “Bring up the video. What sector?”

            “Sector B, engine installation. There,” the security officer indicated, pointing to a lone figure strolling down the middle of wide yellow line along which the incomplete hovers would follow to their next assembly point. . The foreman had shut down the line in confusion as the figure walked towards him.

            “Zoom and enhance,” Jonathan requested. When the camera took its split second to focus, Jonathan recoiled and stumbled backwards.

            “Boss?” Dave asked. Jonathan didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and sprinted from the security command center down the long hallway to the assembly area. Dave shook his head and turned his attention back to the screen. The beautiful brunette stooped and glanced up, as if she knew exactly which camera was fixated upon her, and smiled. Her disarming smile almost seemed to twinkle, and her button nose wiggled ever so slightly as she grinned.



© J.J. Goodman 2012. All rights reserved.


Comments