Clocks that Don’t Tick

| August 30, 2014


Clocks that Don't Tick

Gary is a five-hundred year-old bank teller with a fading memory. He works beside Martha, a woman with a posse of imaginary friends. Gary and Martha are what people call Thralls, the Bosses’ immortal slaves. One day at lunch, Gary notices Charlemagne the Great, an old friend. He’s a Traveler, a man resurrected to roam the world for the Bosses’ entertainment. Gary introduces Martha to Charlemagne, who inquires about the plan for escape he spoke of when they last met. Gary has forgotten, but promises to think up a new one. Maybe it’s worth a shot.

There was once a girl that didn’t grow. The world named her Hope, which wasn’t a fitting name at all. At the age of sixty, she approached two Swiss scientists seeking their help in finding a cure. She had the appearance and energy of an eight-year-old. Not even a wrinkle marked her skin. In her, the Swiss scientists saw the fountain of youth, and in the fountain of youth they saw a product to be sold. Soon, they found what made her how she was, and were able to reproduce it. Soon, immortality was marketable. The Bosses, richest among men, were some of the first to undergo the new procedure. All research into cures for the diseases plaguing humanity ceased, as they became useless to the men paying the grants. The doomsday clocks, the visions of the world destroyed by atom bombs, they were wrong. In time, war became unprofitable, so the Earth fell to rot rather than flame. To apathy and greed rather than hate. Soon, the Bosses began offering loans so others could be immortal. Soon, the Earth became sick, and the options for a common person were either a slow, painful death or eternal servitude to the Bosses and their loan. Undying slaves. Good investments. The next step was to bring figures from history back to life. It amused the Bosses to have kings bow before them and to give old martyrs rudimentary jobs. The common people have only diseases to their names. The Bosses live in absolute luxury. Their slaves want only to be free, but most lack the courage to run. That’s the twenty-seventh century.


Comments are closed.