The Synthetic Prophecy

The Synthetic Prophecy

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

 

 

“Many years ago, I was blessed with a vision. Whether it was by an almighty being of the cosmos, my creator or whatever the sort was beyond me. It was a vision I discarded as being nothing more than just a mere dream. I was five or six…so I never took it as being a prophecy…or an event to come to pass. Most science fiction, dystopian, or post-apocalyptic stories have something similar. I chopped it up to being nothing more than an influence by something I had once seen on the television.

Then it came to pass…

One afternoon, I was traveling with my mother. We were running errands; the basic kind, you know. We had ventured to the local grocery store. As we had exited the vehicle and neared entering the establishment, the sirens began to sing…

People shrugged it off as another test of the Emergency Broadcast System. Then, inside the store, all the TV’s, all the monitors, all the cell phones, everything cried and warned with the coming end. An attack was made. The target? Our location along the West Coast. People ran. Panicked. Cried.

I looked up and saw them in the bright azure sky streaking towards us like rebel burning diamonds against the daylight. I felt my stomach sink. My hands had begun to sweat in my mother’s grasp.

A voice chanted, “Initiate Evacuation Protocol: Disembark. Repeat. Disembark.”

One by one, then dozens, thousands, millions…people dropped to the ground. I, myself watched as my body dropped to the ground. I looked over and saw my mother’s body drop limply upon the ground. Everyone flew up into the sky, a blue-white streak against the azure grain. We watched as the missiles struck the ground, the buildings, and reduced everything to a fiery crater. War had come. We were the first to be hit, and we certainly wouldn’t be the last.

We spiraled through the cosmos; flying by stars, buzzing by planets…Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, so far away from the sun, watching the Earth become a mere speck. Until then, we arrived. A new home. A new hope. Here.

We all awoke to our new mechanical bodies, synthesized humans. Robots. The Singularity may have saved us…or rather given us a way to escape death. However, back on Earth, many were trapped. Left to endure the war that took place. It is only a matter of time until it follows us here.”

The now young man appearing synthetic human opened his eyes and stood up before the crowd around him. “Surely, we could try to outrun our demise…or we can embrace a destiny where we fight back, survive. When they come—and they will, we will be waiting. We will return. We will reclaim our home planet. They will call us ‘alien’ but eventually, they will see…” He reached down and took up a foreign weapon. “We are more human than they are. We will save those left behind.”

Last Transmission

"Under the Milky Way" Photo by Steve Jurvetson. Steve Jurvetson has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Photo by Steve Jurvetson. Steve Jurvetson has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

I saw a man today in the heavens, but I do not think he knew me at all.
I was looking out the window way up high (between the hours of seven—or was it eleven?). It was when I was making my fall.
I had waved to him, but he didn’t give a glimpse—not even a nod.
I turned back at the thought that I had heard someone say ‘hello’, but it turns out, it was just goodbye.

You see, I’m falling fast, and no there is no hope that I can last—as I’m feeling quite hot.
I’m so far away, and have been asking for help, but no one can lend a hand.
I’m feeling very faint, but it’s all been quaint; I’ve lived my thrill.

Come in! Come in! Can you hear me?
Come in! Come in! Please, talk to me.
Oh, come in, come in, let the transmission begin.
Oh, yeah, let life begin again.

The airs become thin, and I’m quite sure—there he is again.
Won’t you please see me this time? Why, how you dance in the stars, and I look for a chance. . .
Won’t you please help me out? As I sit here and cry, when I shout, and soon I’ll say goodbye…

Come in! Come in! Can you hear me?
Come in! Come in! Please, talk to me.
Oh come in, come in, let the transmission begin.
Oh yeah, how I wish life begin again.

I’m falling faster now. I’m getting closer now. Ah, I can see how it all will play out.
They say that in time, it’s all by divine, but I just say it’s a lie.
When I listen for an answer, they tell me I’ll be just fine.
When I know, it’s now my time, my time…

Come in! Come in! Can you hear me?
Come in! Come in! Please talk to me.
Oh come in, come in, let the transmission begin.
Oh yeah, life’s end has begun.

I will reenter, I will reenter!
Oh—h, how it burns so bright. The last transmission is done, my time has come.
Oh—h, how I burn, up so high. Now he notices me and waves goodbye.
I hear him now, and as I pass on by, he talks to me as I say goodbye.
Will you take me home to see my one day weathered tome?

How they will all see me, burn out like a star.
Come in, come in…last transmission…begin.

[Part of the Lost Cosmonaut Pieces.]

Robert J. S. T. McCartney
A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group

Earth, Space, and I

"Backpacking" photo by NASA. NASA has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Photo by NASA. NASA has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

It’s been years since I was first introduced to her majesty.
From the first day, she has taken care of me.
She held me close and tight in her arms, together we watched the Earth go round.
We watched stars die, and the sun play peek-a-boo with the moon.
I looked back down low to see the same old sound.
As we aged, life below stayed the same, as if time stopped at noon.
Oh how I cried, to see what I had come from, lapse back into the chaos.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I had hoped that when I left I would never go home.
She’s pushed me away. “You’re needed,” she says.
“I will miss you,” I murmur back.

As the emptiness drifts on, I feel an old flame’s hand reach up and hold me close.
“It shall be as it was meant to be,” Earth whispers in my ear.
“It is so good to see you. I am sorry it has been far too long,” I sniffle with a tear.

The time has come, to at last be found.
No more secrets, no more hiding, let them hear the sound.
I am home, I am back.

From what I saw, and that I know, I’d hope they can all get back on track.
As the journey ends, I am greeted now by Father.
He who knows me best, for Death is no stranger.
Lest as it was told, it will begin again as it always has and will.
The circle complete, several generations wonder who?
Now my legacy can see what her majesty, Space, meant to me.

 

Robert J. S. T. McCartney
A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group
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