Melisande Mason - 2042 - The Great Cataclysm

Having no luggage to collect he threaded his way immediately to the noisy arrival lounge. Dulles International Airport was crowded as usual with excited people scurrying in all directions, while other tired travellers lounged on uncomfortable seats, dozing and yawning, irritated by the inevitable delays.

Because they were nearing summer most people wore cool coloured jack suits: long knee-length jackets over body hugging trousers, or body suits with high collars made of the new silky light weight material incorporating an ingredient of Navilon that needed no ironing, and insulated the wearer from the temperature depending on the colour. Some people still wore the warm colours of winter.

The majority of travellers wore the eye-phone, a contraption that many people chose instead of carrying the long distance sat-phones. It enabled them to surf the internet, played movies, emailed and called your contacts automatically by voice command. The lightweight wraparound visor sat over the eyes like sunglasses, and on command received phone calls, video streaming, and all other manners of communications. When not in use, one only had to command ‘wrap’ and the screen slid soundlessly back into the arms above the ears that held it in place. The handsfree innovation of the twenty-first century, it was the reason most men wore their hair close cropped. There was no way Nick was going to cut his hair, and for the life of him he could not understand how people could walk around wearing those wrap around things without stumbling into every object in their path.

Nick felt exhausted, and he felt an emptiness in his stomach not caused by the lack of food. He searched anxiously for Josh who he quickly spotted over the crowd. It wasn’t hard. Josh was powerfully built, slightly taller than himself with gleaming ebony skin and an engaging smile. People were always surprised to learn Josh was a scientist; his handsome appearance and charismatic personality suggested a highly successful salesman, a movie star or even a basketball hero, never an academic. Josh refused to bend to the fashion dictates of the day and dressed as usual in his immaculate three-piece suit. He did however, wear an eye-phone. Close-cropped hair glistened under the bright airport lights and penetrating dark-chocolate eyes danced before Nick’s.

‘Glad your back buddy!’ He grinned gripping Nick on the shoulder with a strong hand, pumping his other hand. ‘Can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to.’

Nick sighed. ‘I don’t know where to start.’ The familiar aroma of Josh’s Pour Homme invaded his nostrils, contrasting the smell from his own fetid body, and Nick realised his demeanour would disturb Josh. His honest piercing eyes flickered in all directions avoiding contact, and he glanced around as he spoke. ‘Not here anyway.’

‘Okay, I can wait until we get to Laura’s.’

‘I’m not going to Laura’s, I’ve decided to spend the night in a hotel. I’ll call her and explain I’m held up. I’ve gotta get some sleep.’

Josh narrowed his eyes. ‘Ohhh? Why were you in Anchorage? Last I heard, you were still at Mururoa.’

‘I’ll fill you in tomorrow. It’s late and um, I need a shower, and the last thing I need is questions right now. Okay?’

Josh blinked. ‘Okay, fine.’ He glanced at Nick’s overnight bag. ‘That it?’

‘Yup.’

They walked in silence to the car park. ‘How come there’s only Trancars here?’ Nicked looked around at row upon row of small two-seater vehicles. He thought them unattractive and a little antisocial, as one passenger seat was situated behind the other. If one wanted more than two passengers, another car could be automatically connected to the rear by voice command.

This driverless innovative design provided solar power through a square panel no bigger than a standard writing pad, whose solar cells rotated to follow the sun and provide full power to run the vehicle twenty-four hours. This small pad was imbedded in the opaque top of the transparent hood made of Navilon like that used on the Platypus, it also generated power for the GPS system that enabled the passenger to give voice directions to their destination, and alter that destination if required. The GPS system would take them to that destination by the quickest route avoiding any traffic jams along the way. Not only had this Trancar revolutionised ground travel, but it had stopped all pollution and road accidents, as it was able to detect other cars in it’s path and deviate, thus avoiding crashes.

‘They’re compulsory now. No petrol or diesel cars are permitted within the city limits anymore.’

‘They’re all bloody identical. How d’you know which is yours?’

Josh clicked the key in his hand and a dome three rows away lit up and beeped several times.

‘Bloody ugly things.’ Nick muttered as they approached their car. ‘I bet you miss your limo. They don’t make them with tall guys like us in mind.’

Josh ignored his quip. ‘There’s a small compartment behind the seat for your bag.’

Nick stuffed his bag into the small space and crammed himself into the curved passenger seat. He pushed a flat button on the armrest and a seatbelt smartly wrapped itself around his body. His shoulders pressed against each side window leaving no room for movement, but at least their was good legroom, even for his long legs. He slammed the door a little harder than he should and immediately felt guilty for his short temper.

Josh climbed in the driver’s seat. ‘Where d’you want to go?’

‘I dunno, any decent pub will do.’

Josh looked over his shoulder. ‘You’re acting very strange Nick. Obviously something bad’s happened. Why can’t you tell me?’

‘Sorry Josh.’ Nick shook loose his hair. ‘You’ll be the first to know. Right now I need to get my head together. D’you mind?’ Nick knew if he told Josh now he would get no sleep at all, and he was desperately tired and his head thumped painfully.

‘Okay buddy. Whatever you say. Hilton Garden Hotel, thanks Tran.’

Josh turned his head again. ‘First thing tomorrow, okay?’

‘Sure.’

The Trancar headed out for the hotel and when they left the car park Josh said, ‘Screen’ and a paper thin screen folded down inside the windscreen blocking his view. ‘We can catch up on the news while we travel.’ He said.

The television panel displayed three split screens. The top right panel displayed his secretary at his office, while the GPS system beneath that screened their movements. The news caster looked no different to any talking head, except he wore a tight fitting body suit that reminded Nick of his wetsuit.

They travelled the highway into the city in one lane beside seven other lanes carrying long lines of Trancars, some towing two or more cars. Large Tranvans resembling trains occupied the first two lanes. The Trancar was so well insulated that Nick could hear very little traffic noise, just the gentle hum of it’s electric motor.

The monotone voice of the newscaster soon had Nick nodding off to a fitful sleep and he awoke to find himself at the hotel.

‘Eight O’clock – my office!’ Josh ordered.

Without answering, Nick grabbed his bag, closed the door, gently this time, waved over his shoulder and kept walking disappearing quickly through the front doors into the lobby.

The hotel room promised a restful stay in a cream and gold suite. A cream leather lounge topped with gold scatter cushions was arranged around a square coffee table and faced the superb view of the Washington skyline. The heady fragrance of a huge vase of cream roses gracing the table permeated the room and complimented the peaceful atmosphere. As in all hotels and most homes today, the wall facing the lounge displayed a very large beautiful painting. This one was a continuation of the Washington skyline. A voice command dissolved the painting to reveal the paper thin display screen. The wall opposite the windows housed the other amenities and the entrance to the large bathroom. Nick temporarily decline the offerings of the mini bar, instead heading immediately into the shower where he lingered as the eight water jets massaged his weary body.