Nuclear Racing: Charles' Bold Stand in Space
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Published 6/3/2023Against incredible odds, a genius astronaut, Charles, uses his wit and intellect to fight cultural and political corruption, brave environmental hazards and dodge the fear of nuclear devastation - all on a mission to bring hope to an otherwise doomed world.
"I'm not sure if you understand your situation, Mr. Johnson," The woman in the suit said. "But it's your fault that we're going to die."
My chest hurt from the pressure of the harness. I'd been pulled back in against my seat for so long, my arms hurt from grasping at the straps. My legs were numb from the lack of blood flow. It was hard to think clearly, but I knew I had to respond to her accusation.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Charles," She said, her voice a cold whisper. "Do you think we didn't see the file on your computer? You were going to bring down our entire government with your little nuclear reactor, weren't you?"
"It was an experiment!" I objected. "I just wanted to see if it could be done!"
"You can't do that anymore, Charles," The woman continued. "There are no more experiments."
"Just let me out of this harness! Let me help!" I demanded. "I know how to fix things. You just have to trust me!"
She pushed up her glasses and looked at me with a flat expression and dead eyes as she spoke again. "Trust is a dying concept these days." She pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it with one hand while continuing to hold my gaze with another. "We're actually doing quite well for ourselves now that we don't have to answer to people like you any more." She finished tapping and handed me the tablet. "Look what we've accomplished without you getting in our way."
I looked at the screen; it was an image of my house outside of town where I used to live before the government took over everything. Smoke was billowing from the roof of the structure, burning into the sky and filling it with black clouds that blocked out all light from above. The yard was filled with trucks marked with FEMA logos; they'd already stripped away anything valuable from around my house before setting it ablaze. The smoke would probably poison us all for years before finally drifting off into space, but by then everything would be dead anyway so who cared?
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This is a work of fiction, assisted by artificial intelligence. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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