Forgotten Foreknowledge

Chapter 1

It almost seemed like any ordinary Tuesday – the last day of the world. I got off work at the Disbursement Center a little early due to the riots. As a courtesy, I messaged my friend Rexam that I'd join him at his apartment for his half-facetiously-dubbed 'Apocalypse Bash,' bringing my other friend Salyn along. Rexam promised it wouldn't be a suicide party, but he already knew I would come. I wasn't able to be with my secondary partner or parents, so might as well be with my friends at the end.

"Perhaps when the Blackout happens, Salyn'll finally kiss you!" I had once teased Rexam with a wicked grin.

"It wouldn't work out," he had countered reflexively, "otherwise it would've happened already."

Walking to the tubeway, people on every street corner held punch bowls full of poison pills which they handed out to passersby like candy. The pills were seemingly distributed by themselves, flouting regulations.

I entered the small tubeway at nearly the same time as a half-dozen other people; the clear barrier rose over the entryway as the tube began to quickly descend several meters below-ground. The perimeter of the near-cylindrical tube retracted into itself vertically, lifting away after depositing us into the autopod. A small lurch later, we were on our way. I thought to myself that this might be the last time I ever ride a pod. Quickly probing, I reconsidered. Well, there would be the ride to Rexam's apartment. I could've reasoned that on my own, though.

Slowing to arrive at our stop moments later, a tube scooped us up, meeting to expand where the pod retracted, and ascended to ground level. I entered the moving walkway going the direction of my apartment, changing onto the one crossing the street. The lack of bulk deliveries today meant little road traffic... for trucks at least; pedestrians were scurrying everywhere like ants, the moving sidewalks overcrowded and their traffic spilling into the streets.

Entering my apartment complex, I waved my mobile at the elevator panel; it opened, I entered. The door shut with a whoosh, and I was shortly thereafter taken to the floor I was authorized to go to; I lived on the 43rd floor, but didn't need to know that. Soon I was flicking my wrist, mobile in hand, and the superfluous lock on my door disengaged with a satisfying click.

I casually tossed my doffed clothes to the side and looked out the window. There were lots of people in the streets today, far more than usual. Surprisingly, the Police weren't even needed yet. Rexam told me it'd be like this, though... at least for now. As an Archivist working in the Police Blotter division, he'd know, although not necessarily better than anyone else. I glanced at the propped-up display on my dresser, frowning at the fatalist message I'd written that morning: "Still nothing past Blackout". I took a brief shower to be safe; unless someone said something, it could be hard to tell if I needed it. I grinned grimly at the absurdity of worrying about grooming at the end of the world. It was a party though, and my friends were attending; might as well make the most of it.

Replacing the discarded clothes, I checked the contents of my pockets and left for the appointed place. They had finished their self-cleaning cycle before I put them back on. The local Weather Service showed clear weather, at least until the Blackout. I took the nearest tube, having already entered my destination into my mobile. During the trip I used its garment app to customize the shape and color of my clothing. I had a 'party' preset already made, but felt something custom was called for, given the circumstances. In the end, I decided on a gradient: brilliant white on top giving way to superblack on the bottom. The shape was a normal two-piece semi-formal. Patterned and logo clothing were more typical, but I thought the contrast an appropriate metaphor for the Wall.

As I finished the customization, I arrived back at ground level, the last to leave the tubeway. After probing, I walked leisurely to the entryway of Rexam's apartment complex. A doomsayer was preaching on the nearest corner about how probing had sealed our fate. The only method of salvation was a pulfectomy, he argued, otherwise we would be destroyed by the Wall. A much larger crowd than typical was paying him heed, some of whom likely weren't even Antis.