Chapter 5
Tomorrow is never certain
.....
Jon stood at the edge of the forest and stared.
For several minutes, he didn't move.
The city stretched farther than his eyes could follow.
Towering buildings rose from the earth like artificial mountains, their surfaces covered in moving advertisements and illuminated windows. Elevated roads crossed between them, carrying streams of vehicles that glided almost silently through the night.
Some didn't appear to touch the roads at all.
Others moved along tracks suspended hundreds of feet above the ground.
A cluster of small drones passed overhead in perfect formation.
Jon watched them disappear between the towers.
"…Okay."
He rubbed his eyes.
Nothing changed.
"Either I hit my head harder than I thought…"
He looked at the city again.
"…or I'm seriously behind on technology."
A digital billboard the size of a building changed images.
A smiling woman appeared.
LIVE BETTER. LIVE LONGER. LIVE CONNECTED.
Beneath her face, a logo appeared.
Jon couldn't recognize it.
Then another advertisement replaced it.
Medicine.
Housing.
Transportation.
Entertainment.
Artificial limbs.
Something called cognitive insurance.
He stared.
"Cognitive insurance?"
He shook his head.
"Nope."
He took a slow breath.
The city was loud from this distance.
Even from the edge of the woods, he could hear its distant hum.
Thousands of machines.
Thousands of people.
Thousands of lives continuing as though nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Jon didn't even know what year it was.
He started walking.
….
The first problem was getting inside.
The city was surrounded by a perimeter.
Not a wall.
Something more complicated.
Tall security pylons stood at regular intervals along the approaches, connected by invisible scanning fields.
Roads entered through controlled checkpoints.
Pedestrians passed through enclosed gates.
Vehicles were scanned automatically.
Jon watched from behind a patch of trees.
He waited for someone to simply walk in.
It didn't happen.
Everyone had something.
Identification chips.
Transit cards.
Biometric passes.
Digital credentials.
Even children appeared to have some form of identification.
Jon looked down at himself.
He had none of those things.
He stepped closer to the checkpoint.
A small screen lit up.
IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED.
He stared.
"I don't have one."
The screen didn't care.
PLEASE PRESENT CREDENTIALS.
"I just told you."
PLEASE PRESENT CREDENTIALS.
He looked around.
Nobody seemed interested in helping.
He stepped away.
"Great."
He walked along the perimeter.
Maybe another entrance.
There wasn't.
Every access point had some version of the same system.
He tried approaching a pedestrian checkpoint.
A scanner looked at him.
The scanner flashed red.
A security attendant barely looked up.
"Citizen identification."
"I don't have one."
"Temporary identification?"
"No."
"Visitor pass?"
"No."
The attendant finally looked at him.
"You need identification."
Jon stared back.
"Yes."
They looked at each other.
"Where are you from?"
Jon opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
The attendant waited.
Jon looked away.
"I don't know."
The attendant stared at him.
Then pressed something beneath the desk.
"Move along."
Jon frowned.
"That's it?"
"Until you have identification."
He stepped away.
"Well…"
He looked back toward the immense city.
"…this is going magnificently."
...
Hours passed.
Jon tried everything.
A service entrance.
Closed.
A maintenance road.
Guarded.
A transportation tunnel.
Locked.
A pedestrian route.
Biometric verification.
A freight terminal.
Restricted.
He even considered climbing.
Then he looked up.
The perimeter systems continued several stories above him.
"No."
He shook his head.
"Absolutely not."
He sat on a concrete barrier and looked toward the city.
The sky had changed.
The darkness had thinned.
Morning was coming.
Jon hadn't realized how long he'd been walking.
He hadn't eaten.
Hadn't slept.
His clothes were dirty again.
And he still hadn't made it inside.
He rested his head against the barrier.
"So, this is my life now."
A vehicle rolled past.
He watched it disappear.
Then another.
Then several more.
A convoy of heavily loaded trucks passed through a nearby industrial access point.
Jon's eyes followed them.
One of the trucks slowed.
A side panel opened briefly.
Someone inside looked out.
A pair of eyes met his.
The panel closed.
The truck continued.
Jon frowned.
A few minutes later, it stopped farther down the road.
Jon stared.
The rear doors opened slightly.
A hand appeared.
Waved him over.
Jon looked around.
Nobody else seemed to notice.
He stood.
"This is probably a terrible idea."
He thought about it.
"Then again…"
He walked toward the truck.
....
The inside smelled like metal, oil and old food.
Jon climbed in.
Several other people were already inside.
Nobody spoke.
One man pointed toward an empty space.
Jon sat.
The doors closed.
Darkness.
The truck began moving.
Jon looked at the people around him.
Some looked tired.
Others nervous.
Nobody appeared particularly surprised to have another person joining them.
Finally, someone spoke.
"First time?"
Jon looked toward him.
"Doing what?"
The man gave him a strange look.
"Getting in."
"Oh."
Jon thought.
"Yeah."
The man laughed quietly.
"Thought so."
Jon glanced around.
"Where are we going?"
"Inside."
"That helps."
The man shrugged.
"You'll figure it out."
Jon leaned back.
He wasn't sure whether that was reassuring.
The truck continued moving.
After several minutes, a faint vibration passed through the floor.
The people around him became still.
The truck slowed.
A muffled voice came from outside.
A scanner chirped.
Another sound followed.
Then—
beep.
Silence.
The truck moved again.
Jon exhaled.
A few seconds later, the rear doors opened.
Light flooded inside.
Jon shielded his eyes.
"Welcome to Meridian."
He stepped down.
And stopped.
The city was completely different from what he'd seen outside.
He had expected towering buildings.
What he hadn't expected was how alive everything felt.
People moved everywhere.
Human.
Artificial.
Augmented.
Some had visible mechanical limbs.
Some had translucent interfaces hovering beside their faces.
Others appeared completely ordinary.
Nobody stared.
Nobody cared.
A woman walked past while talking to someone who wasn't physically there.
A child chased a small floating robot down the sidewalk.
A delivery drone dropped a package onto a designated platform without stopping.
A street vendor was selling steaming bowls of noodles beside a vending machine selling synthetic fruit.
A man sat at a café while an artificial hand served him coffee.
Jon turned slowly.
"What…"
Nobody paid attention to him.
He smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because he didn't know what else to do.
"This place is insane."
....
He spent the next several hours simply walking.
No one chased him.
No one stopped him.
For the first time since waking up, Jon wasn't trying to escape anything.
He just watched.
People walked through glowing pedestrian lanes while the pavement displayed advertisements beneath their feet.
Public screens showed transportation times, weather, election polls, celebrity news and medical warnings.
A giant interactive map showed the districts of the city.
Jon stood in front of it for several minutes.
MERIDIAN — CENTRAL METROPOLITAN ZONE
He read the date.
Stopped.
Read it again.
17 AUGUST 2087.
He stared.
"2087?"
The number felt impossible.
He looked around.
Nobody reacted.
A man walked past while talking to his wrist.
A woman stopped at a vending wall and purchased breakfast with a glance.
Two children argued over a miniature robotic animal.
Jon looked at his hands.
"So…"
He swallowed.
"I'm a very long way from home."
The thought didn't hurt as much as he expected.
He didn't know where home was.
Maybe that was the problem.
....
He found a small café.
It wasn't futuristic in the way the rest of the city was.
The chairs were old.
The counter was scratched.
The coffee machine looked ancient compared to everything outside.
Jon liked it immediately.
He sat.
A woman behind the counter looked at him.
"What'll it be?"
Jon looked at the menu.
Most of it was unfamiliar.
"Coffee."
The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow.
"Plain?"
"Yes."
She nodded and turned to prepare it.
Jon watched her work for a moment before glancing around the café again.
"You know," he said, "everything here looks like it belongs in the future."
She laughed.
"That's because it does."
Jon looked at her.
"Right."
She poured him a cup.
She placed the cup in front of him.
"First time in Meridian?"
Jon took a sip.
He paused.
His shoulders relaxed.
It was good.
"This…"
He looked at the cup.
"This makes sense."
The woman laughed.
"Your new?"
"Is it that obvious?"
Jon looked at her.
"How can you tell?"
"You keep staring at things. And_"
"You've been staring at the coffee machine for almost a minute."
He looked at the machine.
"I thought it was going to start talking."
She laughed again.
"It does that sometimes."
Jon looked at her suspiciously.
"You're joking."
"Maybe."
She leaned against the counter.
"I'm Moreen."
"Jon."
The answer came naturally.
He stopped.
For a second, he stared into the cup.
"Actually…"
He frowned.
"I think that's my name."
Moreen noticed the hesitation.
"You think?"
"Long story."
She smiled.
"I've got time."
Jon chuckled.
"Apparently I don't remember much."
Moreen studied him for a moment.
"Amnesia?"
"Something like that."
"And you just wandered into Meridian?"
"More or less."
She shook her head.
"You're either incredibly lucky or incredibly unlucky."
"I'm starting to think it's the second one."
She laughed.
Jon took another sip.
For the first time since arriving in this strange world, the conversation felt normal.
No interrogation.
No restraints.
No one studying him like a lab experiment.
Just two strangers talking over coffee.
Moreen looked at the cup.
"On the house."
Jon looked up.
"What?"
"The coffee."
He glanced toward the register.
"You mean I don't have to pay?"
"Nope."
"Why?"
She shrugged.
"You looked like you needed it."
Jon smiled.
"Is that your thing?"
"What?"
"Giving free coffee to people who look miserable."
"Only the handsome ones."
Jon almost choked on his drink.
Moreen laughed.
"I'm kidding."
"Sure, you are."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Besides, you're new around here."
"I am?"
"You have that look."
"What look?"
"Lost."
Jon glanced down at himself.
"Fair."
Moreen smiled.
"So, Jon…"
She tapped the counter.
"You staying in Meridian?"
He looked through the café window at the city.
"I honestly don't know."
"Well…"
She hesitated.
"Swing by again."
Jon looked at her.
"You'd give me another free coffee?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"You'll have to earn the next one."
He smiled.
"Deal."
Moreen reached for another customer's order before looking back at him.
"And maybe…"
She paused.
"…next time you can ask for my contact."
Jon raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
She gave him a small, playful smile.
"Maybe I'll give it to you."
He laughed softly.
"Alright."
He lifted the cup toward her.
"Thanks, Moreen."
She nodded.
"Anytime, Jon."
He stood.
"I'll swing by later."
"Don't keep me waiting."
He turned toward the door.
After a few steps, he glanced back.
Moreen was already watching him.
Their eyes met.
She quickly looked away and pretended to be busy with the coffee machine.
Jon smiled to himself.
For the first time in a while, something felt almost normal.
Then he stepped back into the city.
….
A screen above the counter switched to the evening news.
Jon looked up.
A presenter appeared.
Behind her was a familiar symbol.
Ten figures arranged around a circular emblem.
THE TEN FINGERS
The presenter spoke calmly.
"Today, several representatives of the Ten Fingers consortium addressed concerns regarding the increasing number of unauthorized bio-enhancement laboratories operating across the eastern sectors…"
Jon stared at the screen.
The people around him barely reacted.
Some continued eating.
Others kept talking.
The presenter continued.
"The organization has once again denied involvement in illegal experimentation and reiterated its commitment to global security, technological advancement and humanitarian development."
Images appeared.
Hospitals.
Research facilities.
Factories.
Schools.
Infrastructure projects.
Aid programs.
The Ten Fingers were everywhere.
Jon frowned.
The organization didn't look like the monsters from the interrogation.
There were no secret laboratories.
No torture chambers.
No armies.
Just polished buildings and carefully designed advertisements.
The presenter smiled.
"Among the world's largest private institutions, the Ten Fingers currently oversee significant interests in healthcare, transportation, energy, defense, communications and advanced biological research."
A customer at the counter snorted.
"Always defending themselves."
Another laughed.
"They've been doing that for decades."
The first shrugged.
"Still better than half the government."
The woman behind the counter rolled her eyes.
"Don't start."
Everyone returned to whatever they were doing.
Jon looked back at the screen.
Ten figures.
Ten powerful people.
Everybody knew them.
Or at least, everybody seemed to think they did.
That was what disturbed him.
The world didn't treat them like some hidden organization.
They were public.
Accepted.
Almost ordinary.
Jon looked down at his coffee.
So why did Hope react like I'd said the name of the devil?
.....
He kept walking.
Now he knew one thing.
The Ten Fingers weren't hiding.
They were woven into society.
People bought their products.
Worked for their companies.
Watched their broadcasts.
Argued about them.
Praised them.
Hated them.
But nobody seemed afraid to say their name.
Jon stopped beneath a towering screen showing the ten figures again.
One by one.
Political power.
Corporate power.
Scientific power.
Military influence.
Industrial empires.
The display explained their public roles in polished language.
Jon listened.
He didn't understand everything.
But he understood enough.
These people were not simply executives.
They were practically institutions.
He looked up.
"Ten Fingers…"
The name felt strangely familiar.
Not as a memory.
Something else.
His chest warmed.
Jon immediately placed a hand against it.
The sensation faded.
He frowned.
"Not now."
.....
By sunset, Jon had wandered through markets, transit stations and several residential districts.
He learned that most people didn't think twice about technology that would have looked impossible to him.
Mechanical eyes.
Synthetic organs.
Neural interfaces.
Artificial assistants.
Automated public transport.
Interactive clothing.
Household machines.
Even tiny things seemed different.
A woman ordered food without speaking.
A child changed the color of his shoes with an app.
A man paid for a newspaper by looking at a scanner.
The city was advanced.
But people were still people.
They argued.
They laughed.
They got tired.
They were late for work.
They ignored advertisements.
They complained about prices.
They drank too much.
They fell asleep on public transport.
Somewhere inside all that technology, ordinary life had continued.
Jon found that strangely comforting.
...….
Night returned.
He sat on a public bench overlooking one of the city's central districts.
Millions of lights glittered around him.
Vehicles streamed through the sky.
Advertisements floated above buildings.
Music drifted from somewhere below.
He looked at his reflection in the dark glass of a nearby building.
A stranger.
But this time the sight didn't hurt as much.
Maybe because there was finally something else to look at.
A world.
A future.
A life he had never known.
He leaned back.
"2087."
He laughed quietly.
"I really messed up the calendar."
His eyes closed for a moment.
The city hummed around him.
For the first time since his awakening, Jon felt almost peaceful.
Then—
A small security drone stopped above him.
A faint red light scanned his face.
BEEP.
Jon opened his eyes.
The drone rotated.
Its light turned yellow.
IDENTITY UNRESOLVED.
The drone paused.
Then resumed its patrol.
Jon frowned.
"Okay…"
He watched it disappear.
Across the street, inside a municipal security office, an employee glanced lazily at a monitor.
A yellow notification blinked.
UNRESOLVED BIOLOGICAL IDENTITY.
The employee yawned.
"Probably another ghost."
He clicked DEFER.
The alert disappeared.
Several minutes later, another system picked it up.
DATABASE CONFLICT.
A second employee looked at it.
"Didn't Mark handle these?"
"He said he did."
"He didn't."
"Whatever."
The employee pushed the alert back into the queue.
MANUAL REVIEW PENDING.
A few more minutes passed.
The system tried again.
MATCH FAILURE.
Then:
LEGACY RECORD DETECTED.
The employee frowned.
"What?"
He opened the file.
Nothing loaded properly.
The identification field was empty.
The biological record was incomplete.
The profile was corrupted.
Most of the associated data had long since been marked inactive.
At the bottom of the screen was one line.
STATUS: DECEASED
The employee stared.
Then looked at the timestamp.
"That's weird."
He tapped the screen.
The system responded:
ARCHIVED SUBJECT — RECORD LOCKED
He scratched his head.
"Whoever built this database was an idiot."
He closed the file.
The alert remained unresolved.
Outside, Jon continued sitting beneath the lights, completely unaware that somewhere inside the city's enormous network, something that should have been dead had just appeared again.
And nobody had noticed quite yet.
Almost nobody.