Notecard Story

    The polar caps melted in the year 2057, drowning half of the worlds population, about 5 billion people. With this last stage of global warming, the waters reshaped the land masses we thought we knew. The earth herself heaved, spewing new volcanoes and rocking us with earthquakes. Anyone and anything along the coasts were decimated, our way of life crushed by our own greed and stupidity. Asia and Africa escaped with the most land above the oceans. The Sahara was turned into fertile farmland, the sand swept away and in its place was soil. Siberia became a little less colder, providing refugees a place to settle and call home. All of the nuclear plants in the world were drowned under the water, keeping fear down about nuclear eruptions. By 2072, our world was stable again. However, all of the smoke, ash and soot spewed out from the volcanoes started the 2nd Ice Age. And by 2078, all of the world was covered in snow except for the few places around volcanoes or any island in the ocean. And so, we began our lives anew.

Harp’s History of the Earth, copyright 2101

Earth 2113

    “Name?”

    “Kyle Fjordson”

    “What can Central Housing do for you today, Mr. Fjordson?”

    “I’d like to petition for a child with my wife, Karrie Fjordson.”

    The receptionist types in the information. She frowns a little and types some more. I hear the sound of rejected items from the computer. “Sir, it says here that you’ve petitioned once a month for the past six years. Is that correct?” the receptionist asks me.

    I nod.

    “This is your fifth petition this year, yes?”

    Again, I nod and say, “Yes.”

    She sighs and scans the computer screen again. “Well,” she announces, “the petition went through. I don’t know when Central Housing will approve it or if they will. Please be patient until then.”

    I nod again and turn to go. The doors open with a hissss sound and I am standing outside of the Central Housing Biodome. Central Housing is the government now, the others just kind of faded away. I’m pretty sure there are some small pockets of the older governments, they’re probably too far away on an island to be found. Anyways, outside of the Biodome, of any biodome, is freezing winter. Snow falls continuously, so the paths connecting the glass spheres have to be shoveled every half hour.

    I pull up my jacket collar, wrap my scarf tighter around my face and start heading down the path to the Junction. Above ground, the Junction is just a small stone building, designed to look like a mausoleum entrance. However, under ground, it is a giant magnetic-levitation railway crossing, trolleys coming and going all the time. The space is large enough for a few small cranes, loading and unloading crates. The postal service also uses the Junction, which connects to other major settlements near us, say, within five miles. The cavern is lit up with dim orange light, making it easier to adjust to when people go upstairs.

    I reach the bottom of the stairs and head over to the security desk. A friend of mine, Bill, nods at me when I buzz in. I grab my gear from the locker bays and trade places with Bill at the security station. A few hours go by as I’m going through unclaimed luggage and filling out paperwork for shipment arrivals. I’m on lunch break when my wife steps off of a trolley coming in from Cindertown. Karrie’s in charge of the energy board connected to Central Housing, and she gets a good salary. We always have lunch together, even though it’s a half-hour commute from her work.

    “The Moores are having a baby,” she announces as she sits next to me.

    I look up from the table in surprise. “They got the okay?” I ask.

    “Kyle…”

    “They got the okay.”

    She has a worried look on her face. “Honey, Thomas petitioned for a child two and a half years ago. They’re just now getting a response back.”

    Seeing my shocked expression shifting to depressed, she hurries on, “Look, Kyle, you and I both know how Central Housing works. They control the population with an iron fist because of past experiences. Food production is monitored and now…” She trails off, a longing look in her eyes. I know that look, because I see it everyday when I look in the mirror.

    My lunch bell rings and I head back to the security station. The rest of the day goes by uneventfully as I finish my shift by doing my rounds through the Junction. I drop my gear off at the locker bay and buzz out, hopping onto a trolley heading towards the old Liverpool station. I’m told that Liverpool used to be a lovely looking city in a country called the United Kingdom, back before everything happened. I couldn’t care less, because because when the earthquakes hit, they destroyed the entire place, leaving nothing but rubble. Any remnant of that city is gone now, except for the roads, but we still call the area Liverpool.

    From the station, I walk upstairs and open the door, getting blasted in the face in the process. It’s sleeting, but I have to get home and find a way to relax. I put my goggles over my eyes, tighten my scarf and race down the street to my biodome. Everyone else is doing the same, rushing home to get warm, but some have to brave winters cold heat and get to work. I sympathize with those people, because I was once one of them. But now I get to my front door, open it and step into the antechamber. The antechamber is the first thing anyone will see if you go into any biodome, each one unique to the person or persons living there. For me, one entire wall is lined with cubbies for jackets and boots, no one wears shoes anymore. A drain line is situated underneath the cubbies for when the snow melts off the boots. The opposite wall holds several racks for hats, scarves, gloves and goggles. Sure it may be only me and Karrie, but I like to be prepared. Farther down the wall with the racks is a painting of the old Big Ben clock tower with a starry sky in the background.

    After stowing my outside gear, I open the door at the far end of the antechamber and step into my house, a modest affair with plenty of room for a family of six. But it’s just me and Karrie. I make myself a quick dinner and set aside a plate for my wife. Afterwards I check the computer for any notifications. Nothing from Central Housing, just a promotion offer to become Security Manager for the Junction. I accept it, knowing the benefits of having a higher position will help me later. For about an hour, I play an online game with some friends, the petition failure fading from my mind. I send the computer to sleep and head down the hall to go to bed.

    I’m sound asleep when Karrie gets home. She pads down the hall towards our bedroom, and barely turns on the lights so there’s a soft orange glow in the room. She doesn’t even bother getting undressed, instead she shakes me awake and puts on a big smile. I roll over groggily and open my eyes half-way. I see her smile and I wake up completely, sitting up in bed. She sits down on the bed and hugs me tightly. When we pull away I ask, “What’s up, Karrie?”

    She smiles again, that dazzling smile that I fell in love with all those years ago. “You did it Kyle. You did it. the petition was finally approved. We get to have a kid!” she whispers. I’m dumbstruck, the wheels turning in my head, but then I just laugh and hug her again. There are tears on my shoulders; Karrie’s crying happy tears and so am I. A baby. We can finally have a baby.