Future Machine

By Johan Michaels

The Corporation is here for you. . . Whether you like it or not.

In the year 2141, climate disaster has wreaked havoc on the globe as Gregory is thrown headfirst into the Insurrection; a motley group of hackers who want to take down The Corporation and spread their wealth to the masses. In a moment of tribulation, the brothers at Dionysus Abbey must choose to fight alongside their newly found tribe while Captain Maakah is hell-bent on taking them out.

War, greed, love and robots. . . Enter into Johan Michael's debut novel, rich with action and suspense in a devastated future.

 

Review: "In Future Machine, Johan Michaels' debut, people aren't who they seem in a bleak vision of what should've been mankind's glorious future. Dimmed by climate change and a dictatorship dubbed the Corporation, the world spiraled into a place of have and have-nots. It wouldn't be impossible for a version of Michaels' world to become our own reality—a hallmark of a good dystopian tale—and indeed good storytelling."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Johan Michaels
• Release date: Jan 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215347584

Book preview

Prologue

Capitalism (Cap*i*tal*ism): noun

An economic and political system in which a country’s trade and industry are controlled by private owners for profit, rather than by the state.

Monopoly (Mo*nop*o*ly): noun

The exclusive possession or control of the supply of or trade in a commodity or service.

Insurrection (In*sur*rec*tion): noun

A violent uprising against an authority or government.

CHAPTER ONE

W E’VE GOT ONE. CHECK YOUR MAP. A voice echoed in the earpiece of Officer Lane as he sat in the cockpit of a sleek gray drone. With a tap at his temple, a red visor materialized in front of his eyes.

I see him. Looks like he’s alone, he responded.

MORE INSURRECTIONISTS. PAX, DO YOU HAVE A BEARING ON HIM? HE’S HEADING TOWARD LOGAN CIRCLE ON THIRTEENTH STREET, the voice said.

Yeah I’ve got visual, Officer Pax replied.

A large yellow moon hung low over the rooftops, casting long black shadows on the empty street below. Officer Pax shifted his weight to his back foot and braced the butt of his rifle against his shoulder as he peered through the scope. A flickering digital crosshair appeared on the target two blocks away.

Officer Pax said, He’s heading my way; waiting for a clear shot.

A loud hum reverberated between the buildings as Officer Lane’s drone hovered into position, gliding just above the road. He tapped a round green icon on his dashboard and launched two small pods into the air. Their sides opened up to reveal a menacing lens and curved black wings as they took flight thirty feet above his head. The figure immediately ducked down between a drone and a large cement barrier and reached into their black leather jacket, pulling out two flat discs. They twisted the edges to prime the explosives; a red light blinked on the bottom.

They’re out of sight, Lane. Where’d he go? Pax asked.

He’s still there. Hold your position. Captain, do you want them dead or alive? Officer Lane asked.

The voice crackled once again in the earpiece of the officers. ALIVE, GENTLEMEN, YOU KNOW THE DRILL. BRING THEM TO ME ONCE YOU’VE APPREHENDED THE SUSPECT. OVER AND OUT.

You heard the Captain, let’s move in, Officer Pax said.

The figure crouched low to the ground and tossed the discs into the street, watching them skid a few feet away in the middle of the road. Gloved hands pushed off the ground as they jumped to their feet and backed up against a building. The drones whipped into action and sped up in their direction. Two blue eyes shone brightly in the darkened sky, casting a reflective glow on windows.

I see him. Flush him out towards me and I’ll take the shot, Officer Pax said.

The figure sprinted down the sidewalk, weaving their way between shadows as Officer Lane’s headlights illuminated the center of the street from a block away. He watched in disbelief as the two drones burst into flame from a projectile on the ground, causing them to sputter and drop from the sky. As he approached the wreckage, he slowed to a stop and got out of his vehicle.

Just a little more... Officer Pax’s voice trailed off as he moved his index finger to the trigger and breathed in. The white crosshair flickered faster on the figure’s chest through the scope.

Officer Lane knelt down to inspect the disc, about a foot wide, lying on the ground. A fine gray powder hung in the air along with a burnt metallic smell. Smart, he thought.

Got him, Officer Pax calmly said and squeezed the trigger. A short burst of blue electric light shot through the darkness and made contact with the person, sending them backwards into the windshield of a parked drone. Officer Lane looked up when he heard the crash of glass and a voice scream out.

Yeah! Pax exclaimed and threw his hands in the air in celebration.

Lane left the drone and began to walk down the street to meet up with the suspect, now crumpled on broken glass. His visor displayed information on the person in small white text in front of his eyes. Pax caught up to them and held his hand up for a high five, which Lane ignored.

Come on, man. Don’t leave me hanging, he said.

Maddox is going to be pretty happy with this. Nice shot Pax, I wasn’t sure you were capable of bringing down such a tiny female perp. She must be what, one hundred ten pounds? Officer Pax glanced down at the figure and noticed that she was bleeding from her head. A mass of twisted brown hair seemed to be stuck to the broken windshield.

The fuck is she wearing? Officer Pax asked.

The woman was dressed in a mix of denim and leather, crudely stitched together into an outfit. Splashes of green paint accented her clothing.

Better call in an ambulance. We can escort to the hospital and let the Captain know, Officer Lane said as he pressed his temple. Ambulance, he spoke in the warm night air.

IT WAS A BRISK MORNING before the sun came up over hazy purple dunes. Brother Gregory started his routine prepping breakfast for the brethren at Dionysus Abbey. The farmbots had already collected eggs from the chickens and placed them on a metal tray near the southern entrance. He sighed as he picked up the eggs and noticed that three of them were cracked. He would have to ask Benja to adjust the motors and re-pad the scoop arms so more eggs didn’t go to waste.

Standing in the doorway, he looked out into the yard and watched blinking antennae make their way through rows of wheat. There was barely a memory left in his mind of birds chirping in the breeze, replaced instead with the buzzing of small robots doing their collective duty to maintain the grounds of the Abbey.

Rinsing the eggs by hand, he decided that the cracked eggs were fine to use this morning and began to cook a batch of scrambled eggs with a side of roast potatoes and powdered sheep's milk. Most of the food arrived in pre-packaged containers, rationed out for the men a month in advance. The kitchen of the Abbey was a small room with a sink, micro-fridge, counter space and a table that sat six. The table was being set by Y0r, the Abbey's personal housebot. Gregory cooked while Y0r wheeled about on thin plated treads, picking up silverware with mechanical arms and placing them at each setting. Y0r stopped in front of the table as a hand touched its shoulder. 

It's been a while since we had a talk, Gregory said. Y0r’s metal face turned to greet him. Gregory continued, I know what you’re going to say. I've taken a vow of silence, and believe me, I intend to keep it, he glanced around the room and whispered, "but talking to you isn't breaking any vows. Gregory smiled as the robot stood motionless. Y0r, you mean a great deal to me-" he was cut off as the door to the kitchen swung open.

Eggs, eggs, eggs... Brother Jiro began his typical speech as he noisily entered the room and picked up a pot of boiling water. Brother Gregory, can we not have some variety in our drab, lit'l lives?

Gregory shot a look of disgust at Jiro as he backed away from Y0r and picked up a pan of scrambled eggs. Brother Jiro was a large Japanese American man who wore a thin strap of black facial hair around his chin. A large nose sat squarely in the middle of his pear-shaped face with tufts of hair sprouting off the top of his balding head.

The one vow you chose was to stay completely silent, Jiro mocked Gregory. "Stupid one to pick if you ask me. I can say as much as I want, when I want and where I want and you can't say nothin' back. It's a one-way conversation with us Greg. Or... egg. Eggory! Haha! He tilted his head back as he laughed, revealing two rows of yellowed, crooked teeth. You've got yourself a new nickname, yeah? Oh Eggory, wait 'til the brothers hear about this! And seein' that you can't say so much as a little 'ol no, there'll be no argument, eh?" Jiro gave him a wink and patted his back harshly.

Gregory continued to serve food and glanced at Yor with raised eyebrows. Y0r immediately rolled around the table to pick up a bottle of milk as more brothers entered the kitchen. 

A fine day this is, Brother Frederick spoke, and there's a strange chill in the air so we best eat quickly to get on with our brewing. It will be over one hundred and thirty degrees by noon, which gives us about six hours. I've already set the brewbots in motion with their scheduled tasks. Brother Thom, would you be first to check on them as soon as you're done eating? Thom nodded in approval and gave Frederick a thumbs-up motion as he shoveled a pile of eggs into his mouth. Brother Benja will be joining us momentarily as the housebots needed to be reprogrammed because we found our bedlinen completely shredded in the bathroom. Damn those little buggers! The brothers looked at Frederick with surprise. Ok, DARN them. How's that? Anyway, today I have exciting news! A new brother will be joining us here at the Abbey. His name is Nathaniel; transferring from somewhere in the Midwest.

I don’t like him, Jiro frowned as he took a sip of milk. A thin stream dribbled from the corners of his mouth and ran down the front of his shirt.

Jiro, let’s not rush to judgement so quickly. We need to embrace our new brother with all of the kindness we can afford, Frederick said.

If he sticks to his duties, he’ll be fine, Thom said.

That’s the spirit! I’ve paired him up with Benja. We’ve had too many malfunctions with the farmbots recently so it will be good to have another technician with us. From a quick glance at his file it appears that he’s something of a natural with electronics anyway, Frederick said.

The men sat around the table and chatted with each other about the day's activities. Gregory listened to them talk about yeast and wort and barley and hops without much interest. He certainly enjoyed the beer they made in the Abbey and had his fair share of input on the flavors they would produce, but he didn't care much about the process that morning. He winced as Jiro referred to him as Eggory while the rest of the men chuckled.

Sorry Brother Gregory, we don't mean to laugh, Brother Frederick compassionately said. Gregory knew he meant it.  He looked up to Frederick as a father-figure. In fact, most of the men did.  He had been there the longest, arriving in 2121. There was a picture of him in the study, holding an antiquated farmbot that went out of service years ago. Its spare parts have been rebuilt into newer models by The Corporation, Dionysus Abbey's sole customer and supplier.

THE CORPORATION IS an all-encompassing entity that was created in a time of capitalism and greed in the early 2000s. Books in the study tell the tale of its founders, Kingsley and Cook, and the maniacal merger of their two companies. Instead of driving to a store to buy what was needed at the time, a person placed orders from The Corporation in the comfort of their own pajamas. Most Americans were thrilled that they didn't need to leave the house to get what they wanted. This modern convenience saved them time and money as packages arrived by delivery vans. Over the course of three decades the vehicles were completely replaced with dronebots as the fourth Industrial Revolution cemented its place in the United States. By 2040, The Corp (as it is commonly known) amassed grocery chains, manufacturing plants and real estate across the country. Fifteen years later, it had acquired the entire entertainment industry including the production of all movies, television, and music. The Corp was the single wealthiest company in the history of the world, which gave them enormous power and numerous enemies. Large factions of people protested over the following decades, holding signs that read ‘King and Crook; Capitalist Pigs’ as they demonstrated on the streets and in government buildings, but it was no use. Laws weren't created fast enough to prevent The Corp from using loopholes in the system to gain a steady foothold and deeper ranks in the government. Soon, they were buying and selling real estate, insurance, pharmaceuticals... and politicians. Powerful lobbyists for the company made their way into government positions to skew tax laws so that The Corp would benefit, all to the detriment of the bottom percentage of citizens. As the company evolved, Americans were forced to use The Corp for all of their domestic purchases. After fifty five years of business, there weren't any other options. They chose convenience over quality, speed over privacy. By the year 2100, The Corp was a world-dominating, consumer-driven company that used its influence and resources to ensure its stability for the next two hundred years.

BROTHER GREGORY STOOD in the kitchen after the men left to start their day's chores. Brewing beer was the Abbey's sole source of income and needed to be completed before the temperatures reached the daily high. Brother Jiro was busy assisting farmbots in their cultivation of crops in the back of the field, while Brother Thom