![]() My car, an authentic moss-colored 1968 Ford Fairlane sedan and powered by hydrogen, was, like me, slowly being replaced with brand-new hover cars and space vehicles like the Cruiseliner. I drove along crowded four lane streets surrounded by curvilinear buildings with bold colors and upswept roofs. Now, they couldn’t find any more cars in the desert of Southern California. I always recalled my parents complaining about finding a car after the Second Big Bang, since they couldn’t rebuild salvaged cars quick enough. Every car was either recreations, or authentic pieces from when they were scavenged from the aftermath. I scanned my card on the way out, and entered the parking lot filled with cars. The lobby was strangely empty, with all the office workers having now just gotten off at 5:00. The hallway led to a large lobby area, decorated with plants and a large clock on the center of the wall, which read 5:07. No goodbyes were said as I left the office and entered into an empty hallway, save for a few pictures about every four feet. I lived alone, and there was much to do in West Haven other than the same routine. I’ll see you there.” It became even more of an abrupt mission, but I didn’t mind much. Usually my flights would be scheduled for a week later, so the sudden sprung of the mission annoyed me. The room was minimally decorated to have a large dark oak table in the center. I stood up from the leather office chair sitting in the rectangular conference room. What did I say about doubting me?” The Marshal looked annoyed while he grabbed the paperwork from me. Grades showed he had A’s in every single class. Boxes filled with information let me know everything about my new cadet: his name was Roman Hawthan, and his age 23, a bit old to have recently graduated from the academy, but that could’ve explained his excellence. He’s the top of his class at the academy.” The Marshal aggressively laid a thin stack of papers before me. “I didn’t get sent to space till my second year of service!” “I’m sorry, rookie?” What I could only imagine to be a confused look washed over my face. I’m sending you and a recently graduated rookie to-“ The Marshal continued, “This is just a test flight. A motion I knew to be a sign of disapproval, resulting me to stiffen up and act tough. Batton,” I heard the Marshal slightly exhale as he clasped his fingers between his eyes, and made a rubbing motion. I’ve been a pilot for 30 years, and I’m a damn good one.” “Are you ready, Officer?” Said the Marshal, his gruff voice reminding me of his age. Having just left for the mission an hour ago, I could still recall the day following my departure. ![]() I once flew large spacecraft on government missions, but slowly bumped down to test flights over my thirty years of service. He was tall, large shouldered, clean shaven, and his black hair was slicked to the front, making him appear more military than a test flier. I sat on a leather bench as my cadet, Roman, entered the room. This particular ship was decorated with shades of orange, but other models came in shades of green, blue, and red among other colors. Metal walls and floors tightly held the ship together, glass windows and doors gave enamoring sight to the splattered white on the black sky, and leather seating allowed for comfort, everything a consumer wanted in a product. The engine propelled a small ship, the Cruiseliner, a new space vehicle model I was sent out to test. It came from the soft humming of an engine, playing like a radio in a constant beat and tempo. A song played, yet it played no instruments, it sang no words, and had no electronic melody.
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