Prophet of Disaster


Roger's corpse dangled limply, held in place by the mind-uploading device like a grotesque marionette. Blood dripped from his nose and ears, a trickle of urine marked his left leg. A dozen cameras, his new eyes, fixated on his lifeless body as it was consumed by a swarm of nanobots, their buzzing echoing through the colorless halls of the underground compound.

Not a single sensation arose from within the numb circuitry that had replaced his once-vibrant senses as he saw his previous body disappear; his infinitely expanded mind occupied itself with a string of tasks to be completed in preparation for his suicidal mission.

In milliseconds, Roger's machine consciousness sparked an interactive holographic file. A digital entity born of a fusion between his own essence and the intricate puppetry of machine intelligence. Its mission was to lie dormant within this electronic catacomb, holding a set of precise instructions to be executed by anyone who stepped in. Its persona was crafted to be warm, inviting, and familiar. After all, convincing someone to travel back in time as a digital imitation of themselves would be easier if it came from the embodiment of hope.

It was highly unlikely that anyone remained alive beyond the reinforced steel doors of the compound, but the cold, mechanical, inexorable logic of the machine was superseded by the misguided and naive hopes of the man Roger once was. The very same hopes that made him follow in the footsteps of the other dozen chrononauts who had tried and failed before him.

Roger began running a hundred thousand calculations to find the frequency and coordinates of his final destination. The further back he went, the less precise and riskier the temporal shift became, but there was no other way. It had to be before 2020, with the hard limit being the year 2000. Any time before that and he would simply dissipate in the process. A suitable host for his mission was found: the president of the United States.

The machines in the complex roared one final time as he began disappearing, his hybrid consciousness slowly relayed into the void. No one was there to witness the final act of his existence, no one was left to shed a tear, not even himself.

The target was chosen, the coordinates precise, but as it had happened with the previous chrononauts, nothing went as planned. Like a bullet, pieces of his consciousness were flung far back in time. Once relayed, there was no changing course or trajectory. Roger desperately ran measures to mitigate the threats to his mission, and finally, a link that cut through the present and the stillness of time long past was precariously established.

Lauren's eyes widened, and a joyful grin stretched across her face as she gazed at the bulky CRT monitor.

"Wow, it looks so cool, Dad!"

The morning sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains of her living room, the hum of the computer's fans the only palpable sound. Her entire focus zeroed in on the illuminated screen depicting an abstract yet serene arrangement of two semi-transparent squares against a blue sky and the silhouette of a man jumping into the great blue expanse. She bit her lip to contain her excitement, her heart fluttering like it hadn't in years.

Everything about the computer seemed perfect to Lauren, from the sleek edges of the menus to the light gray taskbar with a colorful start button. The pixelated logos, corporate and minimalist, gave it a futuristic flair. The time and date displayed on the right: 6:00 am, September 10, 2001. She let her fingers glide across the keyboard and mouse, the cool plastic keys springing up under her touch. She yearned to immerse herself in this new world, to understand its intricate mechanisms.

"And that's not all," Lauren's dad chimed in, his own enthusiasm barely contained. "Let me get the mouse for a moment, I want to show you something..."

Her dad clicked on one of the icons on the gray bar. A window appeared on the screen, at first filled with white. In a matter of seconds, the colorful word "Google!" appeared on the screen. It was the first time Lauren saw it with her eyes, but she knew exactly what it meant.

"We've got internet?! For real?" Lauren exclaimed, jumping from her chair and hugging her dad with all her might. "This is the best day of my life!"

Her mother's voice cut through the jubilant moment. Seated on the well-worn couch, her mother's gaze shifted from the computer to Lauren. "Don't get too excited, Lauren," she growled from her position on the couch, her eyes narrowing as they flickered toward the computer. "Remember, unless your grades improve, that thing won't be sticking around."

Lauren felt a tinge of annoyance, but she quickly pushed it out of her mind. Nothing her mother could say would ruin this moment for her. "Don't worry, Mom, studying is gonna be so much easier now," she replied, her face drawing a sardonic smile. "Besides, I know how it goes. What the Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. Right?"

The room seemed to hold its breath for a beat before her mother's face transformed, contorting from quiet disdain to simmering rage. "How dare you use The Lord's words in vain!"

Lauren's father interjected, his voice an urgent plea. "Karen, please, let's not blow this out of proportion. It was just a joke. Besides, Lauren's grades aren't even that b—"

"Just a joke? Just a joke!" The words escaped Karen's lips with a sharp edge, a mixture of frustration and exasperation. "You don't joke with that, Ryan!"

"Karen, calm down already!" Lauren's dad implored, his patience waning as his temper flared. "It's just a joke! I don't understand what the hell is your problem!"

Karen's voice rose, teetering on the edge of a shout. "Oh, there you go again! You're so immature! No wonder she's the way she is! And now you're giving her that thing? Do you have any idea of the kind of things people do and find on the internet?"

Lauren's dad's retort was swift, his words dripping with exasperation. "Oh, of course, Karen! It's all so scary and awful! I bet you'd love to live in a world without computers, or TV, radio, or anything beyond what the goddamn Amish have—"

In the midst of their escalating argument, Lauren's gaze shifted back to the screen. A starfield screensaver that seemed to mock the tension that had overtaken the room greeted her. Roger briefly saw it too before plunging back into darkness.

The argument extended long after Lauren left for school. On the bus, the memory of that morning's confrontation between her parents continued to haunt her, its bitter echoes replaying like a relentless drumbeat in her mind. It had been the latest in a series of escalating arguments between them. There was nothing worse in the world than feeling responsible for one.

Once she found herself in the bustling hallway of her school, enveloped in a cacophony of sounds, her guilt was replaced by a crushing anxiety.

As she bashfully navigated through the throng of chattering students, Lauren's gaze remained fixed on the scuffed linoleum floor, a curtain of chestnut hair cascading around her shoulders like a protective shield. She clutched the straps of her backpack, her knuckles whitening with tension, each step feeling like a dance through a minefield of judgmental gazes and hurtful comments

The grinding of her teeth was a reflex, a response to the prickling awareness of eyes that seemed to dissect her, laughter that felt like barbs aimed her way. Her lithe figure seemed to fold in on itself, an instinctive attempt to become invisible, to withdraw from the world's scrutiny.

Finally, the door to her classroom appeared like a lifeline. As soon as she stepped through the door, she felt a wave of relief washing over her.

"Hey Lauren!" The chubby girl with braces seated by the window smiled widely. Lauren couldn't help but smile back as she hurried over to her side.

"Hey Cee!" With each step toward Casey's welcoming smile, the weight on Lauren's shoulders seemed to lighten, if only just a little. "Guess what arrived today? And with the internet too!"

"No way, that's awesome! I got a lot of cool sites to show you! I can help you register on AOL so we can chat—"

Casey's chirping was abruptly cut short and a scowl drew across her face. Lauren felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Did you hear? Lauren's got a computer now."

A shrill voice rang in Lauren's ears; two delicate hands gripped her shoulders firmly on each side. Sarah's blue eyes looked down on her, a mocking smile drawn across the soft features of her face.

"Seriously?" A redhead appeared on Lauren's right, her eyes carrying the same disdain. "Maybe she can finally learn how to pass a test."

Laughter followed, a chorus of cruel amusement that made Lauren's cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger. Her eyes darted to the floor once more.

"Oh, come on, Lauren, it's true!" Mark chimed in from the left, his voice stabbing into her harder than the rest, for the humiliation felt worse coming from someone she used to have a crush on. "You've got the internet now, right? Maybe you can finally Google your way to a passing grade."

Laughter erupted again, louder and more cutting than before. Lauren's face burned with humiliation, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, her voice betraying her attempt at nonchalance.

"Yeah, maybe I will," she retorted, her voice quivering despite her best efforts. "At least I'm trying to improve. Can't say the same for you."

Laughter followed once more, louder and more cutting than before. Casey couldn't do anything but remain at the margin, hoping the group wouldn't turn to tormenting her. Lauren's fists clenched at her sides, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to fight back, to defend herself, but the weight of their words bore down on her, a suffocating reminder of her place in their eyes.

As usual, the torture ended when the teacher entered the class. Sarah let go of Lauren without a word, the trio laughing as they took their seats. Neither Casey or Lauren felt like talking anymore.

Lauren sat quietly behind Casey as the teacher droned on, her eyes exploring the horizon beyond the school, her thoughts far away from her seat. She looked at the people coming and going on the street below. They all looked normal, functional, capable. Even the bum asking for spare change seemed to carry himself with more dignity and pride than she did. Would life ever change for her? Sure, she would leave school behind eventually and move on to a job, but would anything really change? As far as she could remember, no matter where she went or what she did, there was always someone waiting to make her life as miserable as possible. She couldn't figure out what was so bad about her that made people turn against her. Maybe it was her face, maybe her body, maybe her personality. Maybe everything that made her up was simply something most people didn't want to be near.

Even at home, her mother didn't seem to like her very much. But in that particular case it was easy to figure out why: Her mother wouldn't understand that believing in a god you couldn't see and you couldn't feel may be difficult for some people. Especially when it feels like this fair and loving god is never there to help you, let alone the hundreds of thousands of people out there suffering. But it was pointless to argue against her. At least her dad seemed to get her, unfortunately he was too busy with work to stay around for long.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the now familiar bump of a paper ball against the back of her head, followed by the same old insidious snicker. She could feel the usual impotent rage boiling inside of her and the fear that tied her down to her chair.

Suddenly, a faint yet persistent high-pitched whine began to infiltrate her mind. At first, she thought it was just the distant hum of the school's ventilation system or the distant traffic outside. However, as she focused her attention on the sound, she realized that it wasn't an external noise at all. It was coming from within her own head.

Another two paper balls bumped against her head in quick sucession. She turned around with fire in her eyes, the insistent ringing growing louder.

"Knock it off already!" Lauren yelled, pressing her hands to her ears, as if trying to physically block out the ringing that seemed to compete with the sound of her classmates' annoying giggles.

"Hey, pipe down back there!" The teacher protested from the front of the class "If you wanna talk you can do it after class!"

"Are you blind?!" Lauren kept yelling, her face contorting with pain and anger "These assholes are throwing paper balls at me! And- and what's that noise?"

"Lauren! What's going on?" Casey stood from her chair and went to her side, trying in vain to comfort her friend.

"Hey what the hell is your problem, are you insane?" Sarah began protesting with annoyance "We didn't do anything!"

Suddenly, a cacophony of screeches and whirs erupted from within her head, like a disjointed electronic cry. She began frantically looking around, trying to locate the source of the noise. The teacher's protests and her classmates' ridicule faded into the background as the noise consumed her senses. The classroom transformed, the walls dissolving into a pixelated haze that shifted and flickered like a malfunctioning screen. Lauren's heart raced as she struggled to comprehend what was happening.

With her eyes shut and the world spinning out of control, she was ushered out of the classroom by the teacher and Casey, her classmates looking on. For a brief moment the entire world disappeared beyond her closed eyelids, the noise consuming every thought and emotion, her mind detaching slightly from the flow of time. She passed out on the infirmary bed as Roger became pieces of information within her brain, spreading through her gray matter, failing to take over her mind.

When Lauren woke up, the noise was gone, in its place was a pounding headache. She rubbed her eyes, trying to divert her thoughts from the humiliating outburst in the classroom. Not only had she caused a scene, but she had also yelled at a teacher and had to be dragged out of the class. Things were already bad as they were, but now she had given Sarah and her idiot friends more ammunition to harass her.

That was the last thing she remembered. She blindly groped around, trying to figure out where she was lying, afraid of opening her eyes due to her painful headache, unaware of how much time had passed since then.

Then, her thoughts went straight to the strange noise. Was she really the only person who heard it? It was loud enough to drown everything else out. Nothing like that had ever happened before in her life. A surge of fear sent a prickling sensation cascading down her arms and legs as she faintly recalled the chaotic, painful, electronic screeches and wondered if she would hear them again.

Fear gripped her, and she stood on the bed and opened her eyes. She was alone in her school's infirmary, or more precisely, at 39°42′20″N 104°54′52″W as the pale green numbers floating within her vision showed. It was 2:15:37 pm on September 10, 2001, likewise shown in green numbers, displayed next to a vertical line filled with several dots.

"Oh, are you feeling better now?" the nurse's friendly voice made Lauren jump. She turned around to face her with wide, terrified eyes. The green numbers followed her vision, and once her eyes met the nurse's face, a small green square appeared around her face, as did the word "Scanning" below it.

"H-hey kid, are you okay?" the nurse said with concern, but Lauren kept looking at her, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The text below the nurse changed to "Not Found", and the square disappeared.

The nurse placed her hand on Lauren's forehead, checking for a high temperature, concern growing more evident with each passing second. "Can you hear me? Come on, kid, say something."

"Yeah... yeah I'm fine, but my head hurts a little." Lauren said as she explored the room with her eyes, the numbers following her vision "What happened?"

"Your friend and a teacher brought you here" the nurse said as she checked Lauren's blood pressure "You started hearing a noise and then you broke down, it looks like the bullying put so much stress on you th--"

"B-bullying?!" Lauren suddenly stood up in alarm "What do you mean? I'm not- I'm not getting bullied by anyone!"

"Your friend told us all about it. Don't you know keeping this sort of thing to yourself is a bad idea? All that stress finally made you snap" the nurse continued as she flashed a light on Lauren's eyes, "You need to report this kind of stuff, or they'll keep doing it".

The supportive words of the nurse made Lauren feel deeply disgusted at herself. The burning shame felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders, it was enough to almost make her forget about her enhanced vision, which the nurse was completely unaware of. 

"By the way, your mom's coming to pick you up." the nurse interrupted Lauren's train of thought with yet another unpleasantry "Do you want to wait for her here or would you rather do it at the principal's office?"

"I'll wait here" Lauren whispered, defeated. She didn't know what to expect of her mother other than more disappointment and disapproval. School and home had intersected in the worst way possible. Her eyes glistened with tears, but the bright green numbers floating inside her eyes didn't distort. She stood up and headed to a mirror to take a look at herself, the green square encased her face and the word "Searching..." appeared once again. Just as the text changed to "Not Found", her mother called her name from the door.

She walked slowly behind her mother, never looking up despite her desire to try her vision on as many people as possible. Anytime they passed next to a classmate she wished she could disappear. The way out of the school felt gruelingly long, but the worst was yet to come.

"You better do something about those kids" her mother bitterly snarled at the principal, who was standing at the door, "Or I'm going to take matters into my own hands"

"My deepest apologies, madam" the principal replied submissively "I'll take care of the situation. We will not tolerate bullying in this school"