Cosmopolis 2029 A.D.

February 12, 2011 at 10:15 pm (Short Story) (, , , )

Cosmopolis 2029 A.D.

Earth’s greatest metropolis.

Where the holographic image ads reached the sky.

And the sides of the tallest skyscrapers served as the planet’s most expensive billboards.

Where people flew in their aeromobiles anytime of day or night.

The number of people killed in aeromobile crashes so far this year: 4.

Still a lot better than the days 20 years ago when people were killed driving their own ground-based automobiles.

For all the jokes about computer malfunctions, the computers drove aeromobiles better than erratic human drivers with their various neuroses and emotional outbursts in the days of petroleum driven ground transportation.

The Singularity was a triumph as far as traffic safety went.

You just told the computer where you wanted to go and taking note of where you are, it flew you there in the most direct and safest possible manner.

Taking note of all the other aeromobiles out there and flying you there safely.

Travis Albion Private Eye was parked at ground level in his aeromobile.

He looked up at the sky and noticed with amusement as a group of young male teen passengers in their aeromobile flew directly into the low-cut top of the low-cut dress of the woman in the skyhigh holographic beer commercial ad.

“Just another Saturday night,” Travis Albion mused to himself as he smoked his smokeless cigarette- big on flavour and without the smoke and the carcinogens of tobacco products past.

Abion put the bottle of bourbon to his lips and took a deep sip.

How different from his father’s day he thought when one had to worry about being pulled over for being impaired.

Albion directed his attention towards the skies again.

There it was- the Silver Streak Honda Aeromobile.

Moving like a silver streak across the sky just like the ads said.

But was this THE Silver Streak- the one he had been hired to follow?

Albion snapped his fingers and the holographic keyboard appeared in front of him

Albion smiled.

He was glad he got a Mac holographic keyboard.

For even the new Windows 666 holographic keyboard still took 10 seconds to kick in.

Albion typed on the holographic keyboard.

And the image came up on the holographic screen- the image of the Silver Streak’s invisible registration tattoo.


“Gotcha,” Albion smiled.

Albion directed his Volkswagen Super Bug aeromobile’s computer to follow the Silver Streak.

The VW aeromobile soared into the sky at supersonic speed.

“Gotta love that German engineering,” Albion took another sip of his bourbon.

Albion’s VW aeromobile flew past the aeromobile of the star struck nerdy teen-agers he had noticed earlier- the ones who had flown into the low-cut top of the low-cut dress of the woman in the skyhigh holographic beer ad.

Their car was covered in a holographic red coloured substance which they flew into a holographic CLEAN zone to erase.

“Better watch where you’re flying fellas,” Albion laughed as he watched the red holographic substance being erased by the CLEAN zone, “you never know when you’re flying directly into a tampon ad.”

Albion caught up with the Silver Streak which was parked atop the steeple of the Lunar Trade Center.

The male and female passenger were getting it on intensely under the intense moonlight.

“Mr. Philadopolous,” Albion called out to the man.

The man lifted the hood of the aeromobile and stood up to see who was speaking to him.

Albion spoke, “I’ve got an early Valentine’s Day present for you from your wife.”

The private eye pulled out his gun and shot him.

The woman who was with him dove for cover under the thick luxurious Silver Streak seats.

“It’s all right, doll face,” Albion spoke to the woman, “Mrs. Philadopolous didn’t really have a message for you other than you might want to direct the Silver Streak computer to fly you in and check out the holographic ads for Transmittable Social Disease clinics along 42nd Ave.”

Albion’s VW aeromobile flew off.

He typed in the number of tonight’s kill on his holographic keyboard.


He had 57 kills so far this year.

As a private eye, he was allowed 100 before he could be charged with murder.

Of course the average citizen was only allowed 5 kills a year before they were charged with murder.

Acting on behalf of Mrs. Philadopolous, she now had 1 of 5 potential kills on her record for this year.

She had told Travis Albion that she didn’t really care for her husband.

But Albion kind of figured that wasn’t true as he inhaled his non-existent smoke from his smokeless cigarette and took another sip of bourbon.

You don’t waste 1 out of 5 kills on someone you don’t really feel passionate about.

I guess it’s as they say… Love hurts.

Even here in Cosmopolis.

Even here in the Year 2029.

The VW aeromobile flew off in the direction of the rising moon.

Another night.

And another night’s work done.


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