Utopia Today, Dystopia Tommorow

A teenage boy lives in a small house in what remains of London. He lives there, alone, only meeting up with the occasional traveler going one of the last great cities in the world. After a great war centuries ago, the world was destroyed with only a few survivors. This teenage boy is going to find himself on a journey that would forever change his life, and his closest friends.

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5. Reykjavik, Iceland

The capsule slows abruptly and then stops. The intercom speaker blares:

Please unfasten your seatbelt and be prepared to leave the hyperloop, thank you for a fantastic journey.

"How do we leave the capsule?" I ask. 

"I have no idea, maybe we have to..." Patagonia says.

The capsule shakes, again and again, and the front starts to disintegrate, until we drop onto a large air cushion below. We both scream as we fall a couple feet into the cushion.

"Why did they do that?!" Patagonia says, clearly shocked.

"I have absolutely...no idea." I reply, starting to panic because my wheelchair was deposited on the top of the hole.

"Well, I guess the only way to go is up." Patagonia says, as she starts to climb her way out of the hole. I drag myself with my arms, my useless legs hanging behind. I use all my strength to get into my wheelchair, and we see the most amazing sight we would ever see. 

Reykjavik is a city with large buildings with arches and skyways between them. Small planes fly between the buildings while also occasionally flying away. Buildings have walls practically made of glass, and then...a building just disintegrated.

"How the heck did that happen?" Patagonia says, clearly surprised.

A different building erected where the last one stood. 

People bustled through the skyways holding small devices that project a holographic screen people are touching and playing with. Buildings and houses disappear and new structures get erected in their place. Patagonia and I walk (or wheel) into the great city, hustling and bustling about. We reach a plaque above the entrance to the city that says, "Reykjavik, the Only City to Survive Breakdown!" As we stroll into the city, we see no streets, like what we saw in Loyé, but instead, another hyperloop.

"Do we really have to go back into this thing?" Patagonia complains, as the memory of the trip from Loyé to Reykjavik flashes into her mind.

"It is fine, it won't be as long as the last one." I reply.

"How do you know that?"

"The hyperloop went to Mach Five. That is about 6,200 kilometers in an hour. We will reach our destination in probably a fraction of a second."

Before we could argue any more, a man walks up to us. 

"Hello, my friends, my name is Acelin. I see you don't have a Unitech. This is an essential component to our society. The Unitech is a device that allows holographic entertainment and basic needs in life within Reykjavik. Here we speak many different languages, unlike in other settlements across this forsaken planet. I am speaking English, but many here speak other languages such as Mandarin Chinese, Hindustani, and Arabic. You will not understand any of them without the Unitech. This device is equipped with a Universal Translator, a voice-activated translater that allows the inhabitants of Reykjavik to speak with one another with ease."

Patagonia and I stand in disbelief as the man speaks utter nonsense for half an hour about Y-O-O-N-I-T-E-Ks and T-R-A-N-S-L-A-T-O-Rs. It sounds like English, but extremely warped and disfigured. Me and Patagonia look at each other and back at this Acelin guy until he finally realizes his mistake and quickly attaches a clip onto Patagonia and my shirt.

"Do you understand me now?" Acelin says, now in a clear tone of English.

"Yes." Patagonia and I say back.

"Okay good, now to summarize, the Unitech is an essential piece of technology that can be used to speak, communicate, and work on a holographic screen. You must be implanted with a chip in your hand also for identification purposes."

"So, how do we get one?" I ask.

"I have two of them already here for the both of you. The Loyé Surveillance Footage sent us a message saying we have two undocumented citizens coming straight from Loyé Hospital to here in Reykjavik. I have the ICI (Identification Chip Injector) to insert an identification chip into your palm. Also, here, you will need these." He hands us a box with a projector-type lens on the front. On the top was a slot that says, "Catom Cartridge Here".

"What is a catom?" Patagonia asks.

"A catom is a microscopic robot that can, with others, transform into any other material. The robot has a quantum computer inside it, that allows each robot to act on its own, without any manuality." 

"Can you just insert the ICI already?" I say impatiently, wanting to explore instead of listen to this man talk.

"Sure, as you wish." He replies, sort of disappointedly.

He takes out a large syringe, the size of a pillow. He grabs Patagonia's hand and puts the open nozzle onto her palm. Then he pulls the trigger, and a large canister full of a clear liquid labeled Benzocaine. She watches as her hand relaxes out of her own control, and he presses a button which then implants a small black chip into her hand.

"It didn't even hurt." Patagonia says in bewilderment.

The man walks to me and does the same thing. The 'benzocaine' in the canister somehow makes me lose all feeling in my hand. My numb hand is then subjected to the chip being inserted into my hand. I can feel it enter, but no pain or anything.

"It's called local anesthetic, this one is benzocaine. It blocks the pain in your hand from reaching your central nervous system." He says casually.

I stare at him with bewilderment until Patagonia breaks the silence and asks, "Can we have our 'catom cartridges' now?"

Acelin gives us a large, flat disk each, and explains that these will insert trillions of catoms into the world to be built into whatever you would like. I put my cartridge into my pocket, and me and Patagonia enter the hyperloop. This time, there are a couple hundred people in a very long capsule. We are only in the capsule for a split second, and then an intercom voice says, "We have arrived in Stekkjarbakki Quarter."

We go through some more stations, looking at a map of Reykjavik, until we decide to go to a mall in Vesturbær Quarter. Before we know it:

We have arrived in Vesturbær Quarter.

"Wow, we are here already!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, right!" She replies back.

We walk off of the capsule and onto the skyway above the great city. We walk into a large building full of people on long conveyor belts, walking in and out of the shops. We step on a conveyor belt, and arrive at the nearest ATM. We extract 2000 kr (Icelandic króna) from the ATM and continue on our way. That's when a panic explodes behind us.

 

 

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