Ashton Rymkus twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he glanced across the cabin at the other passengers of the huge transport helicopter they had now been traveling in for well over an hour. None of them appeared happy. They were all clutching the last remnants of their worldly possessions; some carried infant children, others clutched tightly to a family heirloom, and a few even held a dead relative's ashes in a jar. What they held in their arms and the clothes on their backs were the last of their material goods, and the passengers held onto these items as if they believed they would vanish before them should they loosen their grasp.
Ashton had nothing. He was crawling through a dumpster when they found him, "they" being the Clippers, the soldiers sent to protect mankind until Project Cosmic Utopia was complete. Now, after years--decades even--of word about the idea, it was finally complete, and human beings were essentially going to thrive once more.
World War Four was horrible, more horrible than anyone could have predicted. It put the three previous World Wars to shame. It made the death toll of every other historical conflict seem like child's play. And the humans paid the price. The world was left desolate, nothing but a wasteland of crumbled remains. Only a few million survived, and they didn't consider themselves the lucky ones. They lived off dirt and soot for years, residing in holes left by the bombs that carpeted the entire Earth. But one man promised them hope, a new future. He guaranteed them a new life among the clouds, in a city free from corruption and crime. This man was Phillip Skol, the Commandant of Cosmic Utopia.
Skol began his work during World War Four, knowing the outcome would be globally disastrous. He began enormous fund-raising campaigns and gained huge support from political figureheads that were outright against the war. In time, humankind received the most shocking news in history: Phillip Skol was constructing a city in the clouds.
No one believed it, of course, but the ads kept coming. When EMPs destroyed international television broadcast during the thirteenth year of the horrendous war, Skol used other methods to keep the idea fresh in everyone's minds. And then, in 2563, twenty-five years after the first battle had initially broken out right in the United States, the war ended abruptly; there was no one left to kill. Human life was hanging by a thread. And just when the remaining people of Earth were losing hope, Skol flooded their heads once more with his idea of a utopia, a city of wealth and opportunity. But it wasn't completed yet; humankind would have to hold on just a bit longer.
So they did. That was fifteen years ago, and now here was the last group of survivors on their way to the safe haven of Cosmic Utopia, the City of Dreams. Ashton could hardly believe it. If the Clippers hadn't found him, he'd still be digging through the garbage of Earth, looking for the slightest morsel of food, while the last humans of his planet descended into the sky to a city where they would thrive and live for many more generations. What a terrifying thought.
And despite the fact that everyone on board this enormous transport chopper was heading to safety, food, and essentially life, every one of them looked scared out of their wits. They were lonely, stinking, putrid cowards, all of them shaking in their rags. Only Ashton seemed calmed as he continued to lazily twiddle his thumbs in no particular rhythm as he hummed to himself.
An automated voice--a woman's--came over the cabin's loudspeaker system: The estimated time of arrival into Cosmic Utopia, the City of Dreams, is t-minus twenty minutes and thirty-six seconds. The message relieved no one. As a matter of fact, it seemed to make the passengers more tense. Perhaps they were afraid of what they'd find at this city in the sky.
The city wasn't actually built on clouds, obviously. But the real explanation for how Skol managed to construct a floating city is no more satisfying--or any less impressive--to the common layman than saying the place was literally built upon a mass of frozen ice crystals floating in the atmosphere of Earth. The idea of a suspended utopia scared people, no matter how many times the Commandant guaranteed safety for centuries. It was an obscure idea, to say the least.
Ashton leaned forward and looked to his left, past some of the passengers towards the front of the helicopter. He could see just a fragment of sky out of the front windshield, but no city. The helicopter descended just slightly, and then he saw it. He gasped in amazement, sparking the curiosity of some of the other civilians on board. They leaned into each other, even shoved and pushed, to get a glimpse at what had caused Ashton's mouth to drop, as if they didn't know. Those who witnessed the glorious sight actually smiled and laughed in amazement as they let others see the majesty that was Cosmic Utopia.
Another voice came over the loudspeakers, this one a live voice of one of the two pilots steering their chopper. "I'm gonna ask everyone to calm down," he said in an automated droll. "Please remain seated until we reach the city."
Only a few complied. Most of the passengers stayed crouched by the gate that separated them from the pilots that let gaze be cast upon the breathless sight. As the chopper neared its destination, more and more transport copters came into view, numbering in the hundreds, each one carrying hundreds of survivors. The last of humankind was on its way to paradise.
Ashton sat back in his chair, almost in shock. He had never seen anything like it. A floating city--an enormous one at that--was a pretty incredible sight. The city looked as if it really was built on clouds, as the clouds masked the floating hypo-platforms that suspended Cosmic Utopia in the sky. Skol had done a great job; that was for sure.
It felt like forever before the pilot spoke again. "We're now landing in the city. Please wait until the helicopter has landed before standing. Exit the craft in an orderly fashion."
Every civilian rushed to the massive cabin door, waiting impatiently for it to be opened from the outside. Ashton noted how strange it was that the passengers went from fearing the unknown to welcoming it with anticipating arms just by catching a glimpse at what they were headed for. Human nature never ceased to surprise him.
The door opened, and the civilians nearly fell out into the open air, which was awfully thin this high in the atmosphere. Ashton was the last to exit the helicopter, or any helicopter for that matter, meaning he was the last original survivor of Earth to ever set foot in Cosmic Utopia, which was almost as significant a fact as the first human to set foot there. As he walked, he noticed pools of mist around his legs; he really was among a cloud. He stared for a moment at the gray, titanium floor, blanketed with vapor, then followed the group of survivors to the city gates.
There were thousands of people outside the massive city, waiting to get in to start their new lives. Armed Clippers and Pluggers walked up and down the lines of people, keeping things in order. Ashton noticed a sign in bright neon by the helipads that read "Outer Reach." He assumed it was the name for where he now stood, the place outside of the city. Facing the gates he turned around to see more empty transport choppers on helipads, but whatever was beyond them vanished into the mist. Ashton wondered if one were to walk in that direction if he would eventually fall off the hypo-platforms that held the city up to a rather surprising death. The idea nearly make him shudder.
Ashton turned his view toward the gates once more. Above the twenty-foot barrier was an enormous plasma TV, which suddenly came to life as he glanced at it. On it was a giant image of none other than Phillip Skol himself. It was a recording that had probably played every day since Cosmic Utopia had officially opened over a year ago, but it was Skol nonetheless.
"Good day, citizens of Earth," his prerecorded speech began. "I'd like to welcome you to your new home. Since the tragedies of World War Four, I've realized we have no one to blame but ourselves. The outcome of the conflict isn't what matters, but rather what we've learned from it. Today is a new day for all of us, because today we start life free from crime, corruption, and greed and begin our destinies equal."
Ashton felt uneasy. Everyone else, however, was staring up at the screen with broad smiles on their faces. He turned back towards the broadcast.
"Today marks the beginning of a new age, and I'd like you all to be a part of it." Suddenly the gates began to rumble, and then they silently slid open. Every civilian in their stinking rags and putrid waste rushed forward towards the city into what they believe to be their new paradise. "Welcome to Cosmic Utopia," said the Commandant as the screen flickered off.
Ashton stayed near the back of the crowd but had to jog just to avoid being trampled. As he passed the gates, he realized that maybe he really was entering into paradise, a land of opportunity, a City of Dreams.
Or maybe that's exactly what they wanted him to think.
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