A History of the Future

By Predrag Perisic

Events in two completely different worlds:

One in Space, full of novelties, surprises and a myriad of side-splittingly funny adventures - which is to be expected when an Earthling gets an opportunity to travel through Space;

And the other, on Earth, that describes contemporary society through the comical criticisms of the incessant, internal self-questioning of the main character...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Predrag Perisic
• Release date: Jan 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386350026

Predrag Perisic

I was born in 1967 in a country that no longer exists. Spent the good years of my life at University, watching others graduate; mind you, with historical hindsight, even if I had graduated it wouldn’t have helped in any way. So...I opted for an adventure, the so-called “poor man’s tourism” and I emigrated to New Zealand; once I had enough of that place, I tried Australia too. After successfully ending a short marriage, I returned to scrounge off my parents.

Book preview

Education - Movie or Reality

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In very pleasant company in front of the TV, i.e. all alone, with the accompanying nonsense for tooth entertainment and stomach problems that follow, Web is waiting for the program about the history of civilizations to start, civilizations that no one so far knew existed. Even though he knows that this episode as well as all the future ones, will be replayed to death, he now decides to give this one his full attention.  The waiting void forms a question in his mind: does he, as well as the majority of the planet’s population, expect to see a good Hollywood SF film or will they all be fed an endless string of data soon to be included in the new text books? ... he forgets ... it’s starting...

He repeats the first sentence of the program – Our history up until 20 years ago and a half-formulated question why up until 20 years ago plants itself in the corner of his mind. The program moves on with numbers, photographs and short films about 29,000 worlds in god-knows-how many planets of our galaxy – united into something resembling the United Nations in Earth language, except that what they say makes Web suspicious that things are exactly working as they should be.  Their history is 450,000 years old while the number of civilizations that reach and meet the requirements for membership constantly grows ... several of them every couple of thousand years.  They have a unified military force and a central planet with representatives of all the civilizations.

The doorbell brings him abruptly from the depths of daydreaming about leaving Earth, to reality.

He opens the door and says:

  Zara?

The green eyes half-hidden under the red fringe give him a surprised look.

  No ... Santa Clause ... you unsocial idiot ... has it started yet?

  Your moustache is too small ... and no, they haven’t started yet, they’re waiting for you. – A quick reply.

Zara moves past him towards the living room and the sound of not-so-new a TV set – bad sound accompanied by a low quality picture. Web closes the door, turns back towards the room, and gives her an experienced male once-over: a nicely-proportioned body in jeans, long hair sloping over a white turtle-neck ... just when he starts to enjoy the view she says:

  No use staring ... and your crisps are disgusting!

  Try the other stuff and you’ll see that the crisps are not so bad ... coffee?

  No ... what are they saying?

  Nothing special – that there’s a huge number of them, that they’re wiser than us, that they’ll have all the redheads burned at the stake ... etc.

  And the big-nosed geezers are to be spared?  So you’re safe?

  That’s not a nose ... but you’ll understand in good time.

  It had better be a nose ... it would serve a purpose at least.

Web decides to put an end to this outwitting that leads nowhere and starts examining his guest as she throws herself into an armchair with great ease, like a huge, elegant cat getting ready for a nap after a good meal.

Knowing that she is observed and quite content that the most natural of weapons has won yet again, she says:

  Some education they’re giving us ... and by the way ... why do you never drop by to see me?

  Dropping by would include using public transport, so with all the will in the world – I find it impossible.

  What do you have against public transport?

  Nothing ... nothing that would work efficiently enough ... what are you doing in my neighborhood?

  I wanted to check up on you, see if you’re alive, and if not – mourn you and move in ... you going out tonight? Don’t tell me ... with Dragan to your little jazz club ... for a change, ha!

  You’re right, I’m not telling ... care to join us?

  I have other plans.

Even though it’s been several hours since Zara left, her perfume lingers in the flat and prevents him from daydreaming about going to another planet or guessing what the next day’s educational program will bring.  A glass of wine on the terrace with a view of the city slowly sinking into darkness seems like a good reason to call yet another day Sunday and do absolutely nothing.

20 years earlier somewhere in the Galaxy

Narbara

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Hey ... a voice rings in the room, echoing through the hall, passing one room after another all the way to the cargo department.

Looking up from his book and putting his feet down from the armchair, Zem ironically repeats the hey making it sound like a question - and proceeds to say:

  Of all the programs and data bases you consist of, hey is the best you can come up with to address me ... by the way, it is not necessary to boom from these loudspeakers ... a little one, right next to me, would be quite enough.

A very agreeable female voice, this time from a single loudspeaker, replies:

  Perhaps you’d like me to address you as Your Highness?

  Not a bad idea.

  You won’t live to see the day ... consider it your own mistake ... you created me exactly as I am.

  Correct ... but you collected all kinds of rubbish from the internet ... I should have named you Spam, not Sanya.

  I don’t think you’d like to hear all my potential replies ... more to the point, I seem to have registered a space aircraft right ahead of us.

Forgetting all about their previous chat, Zem turns towards the egg-shaped window and says:

  When is it going to appear in range for us to see it?

  Never.

  Why?

  Because we’re not moving.

  Why are we not moving?

  Because we know nothing about the object ahead of us.  They could be turn out to be not so friendly ... they could be anything.

  Sanya, we talked about this a million times ... we set out on this journey to discover if there was life elsewhere from Earth.  This is the moment of truth ... move in slowly ... scan everything you can and keep me informed ... and switch on the protection layer.

  I’ve already done that ... perhaps this is a good moment to ask ... does that protection actually work?

  Frankly ... I don’t have a clue.

Sanya’s camera shows the contours of a spaceship on a big screen, and getting closer, the image becomes sharper and more detailed. Unlike the usual image of what a space ship ought to look like, the object ahead is square-shaped with a single beam of light originating from the multi-angled dome in the front. Two cylinders are protruding on the sides, under small, strange wings all the way to the stem. They are not symmetrical and are placed in a way that does not seem logical at all. Knowing that Sanya’s communication failure by using Earth equipment doesn’t mean much, Zem makes a decision to enter the unidentified flying object by shuttle.

Watching him get ready, Sanya makes an ironic comment: 

-  You’re taking a gun that will certainly be of great help, yet you forget to wear a protective suit?

  I have no intention of going out unless everything’s perfectly OK – avoiding the comment about the gun, Zem leaves Sanya.

Circling around the mystery aircraft he says:

  Sanya, do you see this? – Pointing his camera towards the rear end of the ship – It looks as if it’s been attacked. I see all sorts of damage on the surface ... but no entrance ... is there anyway you could make a wireless connection?

  No ... I’m not receiving any signal or perhaps I’m simply not recognizing it.

He moves slowly alongside the stern of the ship and a door slides open quickly revealing a massive inner hall.  It’s all or nothing – with this thought in his head, Zem swiftly moves in. Seeing that the door closes behind him, he asks Sanya:

  Can you hear me?

  I have a good signal from all cameras and I hear you loud and clear.

As the shuttle engines switch off upon landing at the end of the hall,  the sound of another door closing behind becomes more clear. The readers show that the pressure is increasing.

  Tell me, is the air inside fit for breathing?

  It seems to be.

  There’s a difference between seems to be and half a minute of suffocating until certain death.

  It’s fine.

A step away from the wall by which he had parked the shuttle, another wall slides open with a loud buzzing sound.  Before him is a huge half-lit room.

Strewn across the floor are clothes, squashed cardboard boxes, remains of an overturned, broken table and a couple of massive, open metal containers.  A narrow staircase leads to a small platform on the above level, with many connecting halls crisscrossing the full length of the aircraft.

Slowly, he goes up the stairs to the platform.  The complete silence is interrupted by a faint, unidentifiable sound, coming from the opposite side of the command bridge, from the rear of the ship.  He moves towards the sound.

He points his finger for Sanya, whose cameras are following it all, black stains, strange holes of different sizes covering the walls. Dark red, in bad light – almost black, sticky liquid, here and there on the floor.  After a few steps towards the inside of the hall, barred rooms line one side, obviously some kind of prison. Moving slowly, he changes the view angle.  This brings him to see an almost two-meter long, four-legged creature lying on the floor of the third cell.  It is covered with triangle-shaped plates, resembling giant scales, pointing  towards a long tail ending with two long prickles.  Its mouth is open in the semi-darkness of the room – the tongue stuck out, resting on the floor, several rows of glinting teeth and huge, black, glassy eyes ... dead.

Right next to it lies a small version of the same creature, with its head between its front paws and its tail waggling and slamming the floor every now and then.  Zem lifts the small beast into his arms, the size of a kitten, now huddled in his hand, and decides to return to the command bridge.

His every thought and heartbeat are instantly brought to a halt by a shattering sound of something breaking, then exploding in the adjacent cell. Something has fallen through the not-so-solid a roof. With an incredibly skillful act of turning an obvious fall to look like an intentional leap, a long and messy haired girl appears, wearing tight black trousers and boots with leather straps and a torn jacket – a girl pretty much like any other girl from Earth. With her arms half raised in the air and eyes fixed on the gun pointed at her, she’s letting out sounds that Zem could definitely not compare to anything he had ever heard before. He put the gun back in its case and tries out the several languages that come to mind.

Sanya’s voice announces:

  I compared it to everything I have in my data base, the language remains completely unfamiliar ... which is not surprising.

The brunette uses her hands to point towards a light on the opposite wall, then points a finger towards her forehead. Finally clicking that this probably translated to You’re an idiot, Zem brings his hand nearer to the switch and the cell door opens.  The girl runs by him at an incredible speed, towards the command bridge, and is soon out of his field of vision.

With his little beast completely calm in his arms, Zem follows her down the corridor and arrived at the command room.  Overturned chairs, strewn and broken things all over the well-lit space, still do not manage to affect the impression of high technology included:  an enormous number of strange screens, flashing switches, keys of different sizes marked by unfamiliar signs and other equipment of unknown purpose.

Looking slightly less disheveled, in a new black jacket with a pair of swords crossed on her back, something resembling a gun on her thigh and a small bag in one hand, she makes a sign with the other asking him to follow her through a corridor towards a staircase. He follows her and makes a stop at the cargo section,while the brunette overturns boxes obviously searching for something.

Enjoying the sight of her graceful movements, he says:

  So what do you think?

  I know what you’re thinking. It doesn’t appear that she means to attack you in any way ... but I have no doubts that she could ... she does look as if she were from Earth – Sanya replies,  keen on having a  conversation of some kind.

Finding what she was looking for, without a sound, like a cat, the brunette makes it to Zem in two leaps and puts a thin, elastic bracelet on his hand.

  Can you understand me now? – she says.

  Ha! – he replies in delight – Yes!

  Where is your ship?  We have to leave as soon as possible ... they might return.

  OK ... why? – says Zem, indicating towards the closed door that he had just come through.

Moving in the direction he pointed towards, the brunette gently moves her hand over the little light on the wall, and followed by the hum of a slow-opening door, she continues:

  The Agurunii have attacked us, I’ll explain everything to your captain once we get there.  And please get rid of that animal ... it’s a branvio ... no one’s ever succeeded in taming it.  It will kill you as soon as it’s grown enough to be able to do it ... you are nothing but a delayed meal as far as it’s concerned.

The source of a scream – a mixture of a mortal death-rattle and growling, makes its appearance from the other side of the door. With torn rags for clothes, of long-lost shape or function, a head in disproportion to a two-meter tall body, with no hair, with a myriad visible scars all across the face, contorted half-opened mouth and eyes that suggest everything but a living creature, the half-bent apparition waits for the door to fully open so he can get through with a long axe in his hand.

At that very moment, a light explodes from the brunette’s gun, but only to dispel into a transparent cloud surrounding the creature.

Sanya’s words Run for it could not be heard due to the two shots coming from Zem’s colt – the terrifying creature jolted and fell.

Holding a sword in one hand, the brunette looked at the lifeless body with a genuine surprise on her face:

  What was that?!

  A 45 ... I’ll explain later ... let’s go!

Without a word, hoping to avoid more unpleasant surprises, they board the shuttle quickly and take off towards Sanya.  The awkward silence is interrupted by the words:

  I am Clara.

Trying to concentrate on getting to safe territory and without turning his head, he says:

  Zem.

  I have with me a diary from Narbar, maps and all the money from the safe. Is there any point in my asking your superior to let me stay on your ship? I am a fully trained member of the special military units and am an excellent pilot.  I would be prepared to do other jobs too.

  Narbar?

  That’s the space ship we just left.

  I’m not sure what kind of remuneration you expect, but you can surely get a position on the ship.

Uncertain of Zem’s statement, with perhaps an even greater fear about where it was that she was going after this kind of reply, she concludes that anything is better than to fall into the hands of Aguruniis.

A few moments after the landing, the extinguished lamp on the command board indicates the optimal temperature and pressure in the room.

Coming out of the shuttle, Clara ties her hair into a pony-tail and follows Zem. The relief on his face is obvious as he’s moving towards the central room of Sanya. As they enter, he immediately moves towards the bar that divides a relatively big kitchen from the spacious central room with its low coffee table.

He pours drinks into two glasses, and throws a piece of meat he finds in the fridge to the little beast on the floor – it starts eating while softly growling at the same time.

He offers Clara a drink and realizes that she’s still standing in the middle of the room, with the bag still in her hand. He lowers himself into a comfortable armchair feeling the reassuring acceleration of Sanya beneath his feet – the ship needed no instructions to know that it should leave the place where they had met with Narbar, and at great speed.

  Where is the Commander-in-Chief on this ship?

  It’s me – Zem replies – and indicates a chair for Clara to sit down.

  Where is the crew?

  Everyone’s here ... the Ship Sanya and myself.

  This is quite a big ship, where is the commanding centre?

  You’re sitting in it.

  Who navigates this ship?

  I do.

  How?  Where is the control board?

  We don’t have that ... I tell Sanya what to do and that’s it.

As she takes a sip of her drink, the look of tiredness on her face seems to be gone in that moment of silence. Fully aware of the curious eyes of this stranger upon her every move, she accepts the unusual situation she’s found herself in. Hardly focusing from the sudden weariness, almost asleep in the comfortable armchair, she continues with her questions:

  I see this is not a military ship, it doesn’t seem like a scientific research ship either – she smiles looking at the almost empty space around them – therefore a transport ship ... you’re transporting something?  What is your destination?

Realizing that the exhaustion is taking its toll and that there’s not much point in continuing the conversation, Zem replies – No, it’s not a military ship ... nor is it a transport one ... I’m just travelling through Space, that’s all ...

  You are the first, excuse me – the second creature (pointing at the little beast asleep on the floor but still softly growling after its meal) I’ve met