Thursday, October 21, 2010

Packers

So, New Scientist magazine is having a "flash fiction" competition. A 350 word or less short short story about "a future that never was." I.e. a forgotten vision of the future, a future or present, with promised technology that never arrived, or where debunked scientific theories turned out to be true.

Writing a story in 350 words or less not easy. The first draft was easily 200 words too long, and a lot of good stuff that I hated to lose had to be jettisoned. I may need to write a more fully fleshed out story in this world, and with Dr. Pitts.



Packers

“We’ve got another flyer.”

Dr. Pitts frowned, uttered a quick “excuse me” to the man whose leg he had been prodding. A clutch of nurses and orderlies were already at the body while the paramedic shouted out “Caucasian male, twenty years old. Third degree burns on the buttocks and all down the back of the legs, left tibia appears to be broken, second degree burns along the back, abrasions under the arms, swelling and lacerations on the face arms and chest.”

“Thank you Matt. Why is he naked?”

To his credit, Matt didn’t crack a smile. “Frat party. 1.5 BAC. He’s not feeling too much pain.”

Pitts shone a light into the boy’s eyes. “Stupid bastard. What’d he hit?”

“A tree. Smashed right into it, safety straps released on impact. Obviously, no chute. He’s lucky he only broke one leg. Firefighters got there when we did, but the tree’s a lost cause. The pack got caught in the branches. Fwoosh!”

“All right, get those burns treated and then get him to Radiology.” The orderlies grabbed the hover-gurney and moved the quietly groaning frat boy down the hall.

“Busy night?”

Pitts shook his head. “Not too bad. Just the usual.”

“This is ‘usual’?”

“You’re still new. This is nothing. You know, people are so afraid this or that thing is going to kill them, and then they go and strap on a jetpack without a thought. Every night we get people in here because they didn’t want to wear the helmet, or took out the emergency chute because it was uncomfortable.”

The paramedic nodded. “I forgot to take the heat shields out of my jumper once before washing it. Got a nice burn on my ass the next time I wore it.”

Dr. Pitts sighed. “I was just starting my residency when the first consumer models came out. My very first E.R. patient had been convinced he could make it home without refueling and lost control a quarter mile from his house.”

Matt chuckled. “That was your first? You’re a relic!”

“Yes. And this isn’t the future they promised me.”