"A speculator is a man who observes the future, and acts before it occurs."
- Bernard Baruch
I would classify this "First Serial Publication" Steemit story as "NTSSF"
- Near Term Speculative Science Fiction.
It's a story that excites me. Although it may sound a little "Buck Rogers," I truly believe that what you're about to read could happen within the next ten years, brought about as existing and forseeable technologies come together.
Please, grab your favorite beverage, suspend your disbelief, and look in on a day in the life of Duncan Cary Palmer about ten years from today.
Stacy is the total package. (source)
A Day In My Life, Ten Years from Now - Part 1
by Duncan Cary Palmer
It's 9:27 A.M. in San Diego.
I've just picked up our second NanoFab-PCB machine from FabItNow, LLC on Ruffin Road. Although FabItNow is still a "state recognized organization," we work with them, partly because their new all-in-one PCB fab tech is bleeding edge, the best available. And, partly, because of Stacy.
While I've worked around quite a few bright women in my long and checkered engineering career, Stacy from FabItNow is the total package; brilliant designer, easy-to-work-with, sweet disposition, and drop-dead gorgeous to boot. Of course — being married — these are all purely disinterested, factual observations on my part. Collaborating with someone as competent as Stacy is just plain good business. Besides, I'm old enough to be her father.
Stacy is project leader for the NanoFab, a breakthrough 3D multi-layer PCB printer / pick and place machine / infrared SMT oven rolled into one. With its built-in device programmers and A/I software, just fill the hoppers with raw materials, and you're looking at the next best thing to a Star Trek replicator.
Buck Rogers in the 25th Century (source)
Stacy helps me slip the NanoFab, snug and safe in its foamed-in-place crate, into my trunk. The crate just fits, a few inches to spare around the edges. Because I've contributed to important portions of its engineering, my brother and I get this second beta unit long before the NanoFab is released to the general market. My hope is that we'll leverage its capabilities into some quick profits.
With a "Thanks a million, sweetie!" and a hug, I take my leave of Stacy and step into my Waters-Musk PGT. Sensing that I've flipped my visor down, the Personal Global Transport begins spinning up its eight superconductive/electric turbo-fans while sealing the windowless gull-wing door beside me.
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Images by Mike Waters and http://world-harmony.com
I feel as though I'm seated in mid-air.
VR headset in place, my PGT appears to have vanished, and I'm immersed in a spherical, omnidirectional bubble revealing my entire surroundings. As I turn my head in any direction, I can see (via exterior cameras) everything in the outside world. The four counter-rotating pairs of high-velocity, frictionless, magnetic-bearing turbines have reached operational speed. Overlaid on my view is a minimal translucent instrument panel, now indicating flight-ready status.
Magnetic-Bearing Turbines (source)
"Paige, please enter the eastbound traffic flow"
I say, "and holo Jonathan for me." I feel a slight upward thrust, and as the FabItNow parking lot falls away below me, my brother's icon - a translucent 3D bust of his head and shoulders - appears, hovering over the seat beside me.
I lean back and put my hands behind my head, enjoying the view of San Diego to the south while Paige, my PGT A/I, attempts to raise Jonathan. The Coronado bridge begins to dwindle behind me as we gain speed eastward. There's a slight shudder as we cross Mach one, but the cabin remains silent except for some classic Simon and Garfunkle in the background. Compute power, DSPs, and active noise cancellation have reached a level of such excellence that I might as well be in a soundproofed office.
"The Coronado Bridge starts dwindling as we gain speed." (source)
9:40 A.M., Eastbound
Jonathan's bust has come to life, and asks "Where are we headed today, Duncan?". Looking to my right, it now looks for all the world as if he's a second passenger, seated beside me.
"I'm on my way to visit you, if you don't mind?"
Taking a quick look around, Jonathan notes that we're now passing the Salton Sea. He says "I'd better go straighten up the guest bedroom then, since I see you'll be here in about an hour."
"No, Bro; I'm not staying! Just dropping by with the new NanoFab to help you set it up. I'm heading back home right after dinner."
"OK then, but you know you're welcome anytime, right?"
"Yeah; just not this week, OK? See you soon."
"Right-O. I'll be in the shop." Jonathan smiles, and his virtual image winks out, leaving me alone in the PGT. A glance at the heads up display tells me we've reached our cruise altitude of 42,000 feet and Mach Three.
"Paige, Traffic please?" Projections of several dozen other PGTs pop into view. They are spaced at intervals around me in the same corridor heading east. I can also see perhaps a couple hundred others, considerably further from me, climbing or descending between primary lanes. We are, of course, all meshed together in an I.E.E.E. sanctioned industry-standard network, automatically maintaining safe distances and mutual awareness.
Although my PGT is networked in with every other member of this global aerial dance troup of flying machines, my personal privacy is protected by strong cryptologic protocols. What Jonathan and I are engaged in is proprietary and highly competitive; our progress and whereabouts are nobody's business.
As part of the automated flight planning, Paige has registered a pseudonymous assurance bond on my preferred insurance consortium blockchain, guaranteeing that, should my PGT cause any damage or harm to any other vehicle, all liability costs are covered.
"What's Our ETA In Conway?"
Paige's sensual contralto voice supplies the answer I expect. "We should touch down at your brother's shortly after Two P.M. Eastern Daylight Time, Duncan." She had, of course, listened in on my conversation with Jonathan and made all necessary navigational arrangements before we finished the call.
"Please go opaque and give me level one email?"
"Certainly." My panoramic view goes milky white, replaced by several personal email icons. I select only one of the four, deferring the rest by sweeping them aside. It's a note from my sister down in the islands with a short holo of my niece and nephew playing with their new puppy.
Though I had planned to do a little work on the way, I decide instead to catch a nap and "recharge my batteries" for the afternoon's work. "Paige, it's nap time. Please wake me when we're about fifteen minutes out?"
"Sure thing, Duncan. Sweet dreams!" My seat back reclines into a bed. As I pull a fuzzy comforter out of a side pocket, the milky white suroundings fade to black and the music starts fading.
It's all too easy to forget that Paige is an A/I. Her voice, her attitude... As I drop off to sleep, I imagine her looking a lot like Stacy.
I'm asleep in no time.
1:45 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time...
The lights come up slowly, along with a classical guitar rendition of Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." I was of course dreaming, but as is all too often the case, can't remember a thing.
Aerial view of Lake Winnipesaukee, N.H. and White Mountain Range (source)
"Paige, 360 please."
I'm immediately immersed in an aerial view of New England. We've already begun our descent into the White Mountain area. We'll soon drop to sub-sonic speeds and blend in with local traffic.
I stretch a bit, and stuff the wrap back into its side compartment.
Landing at my brother's in New Hampshire (source)
As the PGT touches down in my brother's driveway,
I remove my headset. My door opens, revealing Jonathan and Max, his Keeshond, exiting the house. Turbine blades coast to a full stop, and I step down. Max runs over and rears up, pawing my chest in greeting.
"Hello, boy! I'm happy to see you!" I exclaim, stroking Max's thick fur as Jonathan approaches. "Oh, I'm happy to see you, too." I grin in greeting, and then give Jon a hug.
I go to the back of the Transport and open the trunk. "Give me a hand with this beast" I say, "it'll take both of us to carry it into the shop."
Johnathan's Keeshond, Max (source)
Inside Jon's shop,
we set the still-crated NanoFab on the bench Jon had prepared for it. Removing an ampoule from my pocket, I injected the foam crate with a shot of dissolving catalyst and it began shrinking. Within two minutes, the packaging had shrunk by 90% and sluffed off, revealing the new NanoFab in all its glory.
To Be Continued...
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*FIN*
NOTE: Throughout my posts, you may notice hyperlinks like this one that lead to supplemental material. Most images are also hyperlinked. While not essential to the enjoyment of my writing, you may find the linked background information enlightening (or at least mildly interesting).
ALL IMAGES are either my own, derived from open source material, or used with permission.
