|Sci-Fi|: Eras of Cain Ch 3 |Sci-IRL|: Rockets of Today and Tomorrow
Fic: Cain murders someone in an alley. Science IRL Article: play ‘Where’s Waldo’ to find the few crew-rated rockets in the crowd
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Previously, Cain ran away from home hoping to convince her friend Trin to forge her father’s electronic signature on her permission slip to CopyChat—the communication company that connects the versions of each person in the seven known universes after their sixteenth birthday. Cain has never visited Trin before and she just stepped out of the hovercar into slums she didn’t know existed.
This is the part where I kill someone. We’re going to watch this all at normal speed. As hard as it’ll be, I need to see what I didn’t in the moment. Without my video feed, my memories are just a blur of fear and base instincts. I’ll call them instincts, but I don’t think normal people are born knowing how to do what I did.
That’s a really scary path to go down.
Here goes.
🎥 (📍Level 21; 🗓️ June 10, 5271 🕒 8:20PM
▶️(A fine mist is decorating my grey hoodie with droplets that shine like syrup. A small child is rushing down the sidewalk toward me, clutching a parcel damp with grease to his small chest. He’s stopping to stare up into my face out of the hood of his tattered puffer jacket. I almost tell him to scram, but look at that purple bruise under his cheek. His blue eyes are boring into mine—the bionic one—then he’s unselfconsciously appraising my entire person with raised eyebrows before resuming his headlong dash.
I’m thinking I’ve never seen a kid that young alone before.
A g-flat major tone is blasting over the town’s PA system and everywhere doors are flinging open like they’re on a timer. I’m staring at the wires draping from this level’s ceiling down to most doors. Big round camera pods line the ceiling above the sidewalk. They’re stamped with the seal of the city, so I’m thinking they’re older versions of guidance systems on the upper levels.
People are pouring from the ramshackle buildings onto the crumbling sidewalks. They’re fastening hats on their heads and cheap, stained coats about their shoulders—all with matching waves of brown stains. They look like a uniformed army, moving quickly, silently. Those close enough are scrutinizing me with open incredulity.
My life as one of two cyborgs in my school should have desensitized me to unwanted attention. But this is different. They’re not fixating on my augs. They’re looking at me like I’m a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit. For starters, my clothes are certainly too clean.
I’m dodging down an alley a block before Trin’s address to get away from pedestrians. Tarps drape between the buildings above a spider’s web of clotheslines strung at all angles and heights. The tarps block both light and that pervasive mist, making it truly and suddenly dark. I’m clicking flashlight mode on my wrist tablet, weaving around stained, damp clothes.
Hear that strange scuffling sound? The feed changed elevation because the noise is scaring me into a crouch. Around this corner is the back of Trin’s building. There’s a whomp followed by muffled grunting. I’m settling in to wait out the domestic violence.
Trin’s voice—strained and cajoling, “It’s ok, that’s just fine….” A wheeze. “It’s all my fault. You’re right to be angry.”
“You’re damn right,” another voice is growling, “Look at me, I pay enough for a bit of a personal touch, don’t I?”
Silence. How did I let that silence stretch so long after knowing Trin was in trouble?
Trin’s voice is purring out of the gloom. “We’re ok. You’re ok.”
“Wipe that blood off your mouth before you touch me, dammit.”
More hushed scuffling.
A crash.
I’ve dashed around the corner before I thought better of it.
Trin is kneeling in front of a stranger whose belt hangs loose. Trin’s legs are kicking weakly like he half believes they need to. The stranger’s huge gloved hands are wrapped around Trin’s neck.
I’m running toward them. I didn’t mean to. Time was just rushing by me and I found myself punching this massive stranger in the side of his face before processing I’d moved.
The guy is turning his head patiently, still choking Trin like multitasking murder and taking a fist to the temple is a normal Tuesday night.
“Got yourself a girlfriend, Trinnie? What’s your play on her? We both know she ain’t your type.”
Trin’s face is turning blue, his legs kicking uselessly. The stranger—his name I’ll soon learn is Griff—is leaning forward and pressing Trin’s knees into the concrete.
“Let him go!”
Griff ‘s cold grey eyes are sweeping over the augs on my face, crinkling slightly at the corners. “Ah, I recognize you. You’re Planck’s protege robot girl. Can’t you see we’re intimately engaged, or is that fake eye just for show?”
I’m seeing red. Wait, it literally looks like there was a flash of red?
I’m lunging forward, knocking off his grimy hat and wrapping my hands around his head. Pressing hard against his totally organic, vulnerable eyes with my thumbs.
Maybe I saw this in a movie? I certainly wasn’t expecting the popping sound when his eyes burst.
Griff is roaring and kicking Trin clear across the alley against the opposite wall.
The twin red waterfalls painting Griff’s cheeks match the gore drenching my hands, under my nails. He’s lashing out blindly, the back of a massive fist slamming against my jaw, knocking me sideways.
“You little bitch! I’ll kill ya slow for that.”
I’m ducking under his sweeping arms.
The augs around my wrists and ankles go from buzzing to all-time-high juddering. Even the thinner aug elements lacing my back and hips are fizzing.
“Griff, don’t, she can fix it. She owes you.” Trin is saying hoarsely. He’s staggering to his feet, leaning against the wall. “Sue Planck for all he’s worth and get new eyes.”
Trin is weakly shooing me away.
“And be like you clinker freaks?” Griff is gently touching his gloved fingertips to his face.
He whimpers. Then, like he heard himself sounding vulnerable, roars with renewed fury. The sound is filling my head. Stumbling back, tripping, I’m knocking over a metal barrel. The clang bouncing off the walls like a security alarm going berserk.
Griff is turning his ruined eyes toward the noise, drawing a knife from inside his coat.
He’s lunging in my direction, but trips over the barrel, his massive frame splaying across the alleyway as he falls. He’s falling toward me and I’m trapped against the wall in front of him between stacks of crates.
My vision tunneling to his knife clumsily falling through the air on a blind collision course with my chest. The blade is white where it’s been sharpened at the tip, the rest mottled with rust.⏸️)
Wait. I’m going to rewind a few frames. Did you see that red flash again? There. I was focused on that knife in the moment, but up in that window high up on the other side of the alley? Holy shit. That thin silver rod. That red flash. Fuck. There’s a dark figure of a person in that window holding something. Like a remote control?
Oh fuck. Shit.
Was I being controlled?
Wow. Don’t jump to conclusions, Cain, look for data.
Let’s take this on slo-mo. I hope I look up at that window again.
🎞️(I’m stepping forward toward that blade against all my instincts telling me to take a fetal position. I’m standing between Griff’s outstretched arms as he’s falling toward me. His free hand is catching himself against the stack of crates. The hand with the knife is smacking against the wall over my shoulder. His face with its two red rivers flowing from the bleeding caves of his eyes is hovering in front of me at chest height. A glob of gore is landing on my shoe. My wrists are rising of their own accord, my shaking hands wrapping around Griff’s greasy head at his temples. You can’t see, but my whole body is bracing from planted back foot up to my hands. My chest and back twist over grounded hips. The motion forces my wrists into this rapid tearing motion where one wrist is thrusting forward, the other jerking backward.
The sound of Griff’s neck snapping surprises me as much as a shutter banging open across the alley above Trin’s head.⏸️)
I swear I didn’t know I knew how to snap a person’s neck. I didn’t intend to snap Griff’s neck. I just want that on the record in case going on the lam doesn’t work out.
I know you’d say I’m being obsessive. Like always. But I need to keep watching. If that person in the window has anything to do with this new auto-ninja programming I seem to have…it could be anyone. I need to monitor my life even more closely now. See who’s acting weird.
▶️(Griff’s body is sagging to its knees, his permanently twisted head falling forward. His cranium head butting me in the solar plexus.
“Clear off, scum, and take your tiff elsewhere. I’ll call the cops!” A wiry woman is leaning out of the window above Trin’s head. She’s narrowing her eyes at Griff’s form kneeling in front of me, his head against my stomach. “Ah, new talent, then, Trin? Thought there was a fight.”
Trin is stumbling off the wall and forcing himself to remove his hands from his neck. Griff’s grip left a red necklace already darkening to purple. Trin is positioning himself between the neighbor and Griff’s body.
“Right-o, Mrs. Ansío. Nothing to see here, have a good night.” He’s trying to sound conspiratorial, but his voice sounds like it’s being squeezed.
“Oy, Griff, you still owe me for that washer,” Mrs. Ansío is saying, “When you’re good and done there, drop by.”
Griff’s weight is shifting against me, his head sliding slowly across my belly. I’m trying to grip his massive shoulders and keep him in position until Mrs. Ansío departs, but he’s so heavy. All the strength I seemed to have had is gone.
“I’ll send him your way, Mrs. Ansío, is it?” I’m saying, my voice trembling with effort I hope she interprets differently.
“Good girl.”
Griffin’s head clears my stomach and hits the stack of crates, then topples backward.
Griff’s corpse is on its back, his ruined face a mask of blood and bits. In full view of Mrs. Ansío.
“Murdering mech whore, he owed me! You’ll pay his debts!”
“Mrs. Ansío, please!” Trin is trying to yell on repeat.
Mrs. Ansío is lifting her arms and keying something into the display on her forearm.
The round camera pods lining the ceiling above us are suddenly strobing red and blue.
Trin is grabbing my hand and we’re running.
To be continued…
|Sci-IRL|: Rockets of Today and Tomorrow
After the Apollo era there was a global slump in crew-rated rockets. When the US’s reusable Space Shuttle retired in 2011, the only ride to space for NASA crew until 2020 was through Russia on their Soyuz rocket. China’s Long March 2F/G was flying crew since 2003, but this ride wasn’t an option for NASA astronauts for political reasons.
In 2020, SpaceX, a privately-held company, revived space access from the US for NASA crew on its Falcon9 rocket, and it remains the primary workhorse for both NASA and US private companies. Falcon9 was the first reusable rocket ever, which is helping to revolutionize space access by making it cheaper.
SpaceX continues to work on lowering the cost of access to space by developing the highest-capacity-ever reusable crew craft called Starship. It’s designed to return to Earth and land on a massive pair of prongs instead of parachuting down into the ocean. It’s a wild concept because of its size—hosting 100 crew instead of the historical max of 8– its reusability, and ability to return to land. Catch the test flights on the Reddit feed here.
Others are working unique architectures to reduce cost and expand space access. Blue Origin and Rocket Lab are developing new rockets with variations on fuel types and launch/deployment/reusability schemas.
Where once there were only two rides to space for crew globally, there’s now a growing list of options. Enjoy a ‘Where’s Waldo’ game to find the crew-rated rockets in the graphic of all the rockets!
Crew-Rated Rides Operating Today:
Manufacturer, Rocket Name, Country, 1Year of First Crewed Flight
Roscosmos, Soyuz, Russia, 1966
CNSA, Chang Zheng 2F, China, 2003
SpaceX, Falcon 9, US, 2020
Rides of Tomorrow:
Manufacturer, Country, Anticipated Year of First Crewed Flight
ULA, Atlas V, US, 2024
SpaceX, Starship, US, 2025?
NASA, SLS, US, 2025?
HLVM3, India, 2026? (Thank you,
)CNSA, Long March 2F/G, China, TBD
Roscosmos, Angara, Russia, TBD
Rocket Lab, Neutron, US, TBD
Blue Origin, New Glenn, US, TBD
Note: this list does not include suborbital crew systems.
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Several more launch and crew rated systems, including the US’s Shuttle, have been flown and tested between the 60’s and today, but most have been retired.
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Wow, I was not expecting that twist with the maybe-remote control! Casts a whole new light on the story so far! Great episode!
What a fantastic fight scene! Those are some of my favorites, especially when they're vivid. You can feel the physicality and the confusion Cain's experience. I know she just killed someone, but I still feel for her, you know?
Amazing stuff!