I sit up, and I have forgotten what I was just doing. I look around, and the setting is familiar. "Is this another training simulation?" The technician glances past me and nods.
"What is the last thing you remember, Sam?"
"I was told to come in for another briefing. I remember sitting down, being hooked up. It went fast, didn't it?" I am confused. There should be more, shouldn't there? It's on the tip of my tongue, almost. Like seeing an actor I should know whose face is familiar, but I just can't remember where I saw him before.
"What day is it?" The technician taps some data into her module.
"And the date," she asks?
"July 18th, 2034."
"Very good. Report to medical for the rest of your battery."
I smile. She's pretty, but too serious. "Thank you."
She doesn't even make eye contact with me before she walks away, tapping data into her module.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Faded ink on browning paper proclaimed "City annex proposal goes to vote tonight" and "Hit and Run Still Unsolved". The city had been threatening to annex Sheffield for water rights to the lake since October. It was hardly news anymore, but people were worried about their houses and taxes.
Of course there was no photograph to describe the stories. Don Chambers, the editor of the town's small gazette, always said the old printing press had been good enough for nearly a hundred years, and he always said he would be damned if he was going to get some gadget to replace it. Of course, hearing Don talk about it, you'd think it was the eighth deadly sin.