The fall of the Republic of Siran

2100 A. D District 7 Town no. 12 in the Republic of Siran

“Can’t you think this through, please,” she cried begging him not to go

“I have considered this hundreds of times. I want to go,” he replied blankly, looking at the family photo.

The picture stood at the entrance of the main hall, just above the fireplace. During winter he spent his time reading near it, wrapped up in a woolen blanket, and giving an occasional smile towards the picture. His family broken, he realized to himself.

“You want the same fate as your family, don’t you?” she scowled not trying to hide her tears.

Of course not, They were foolish and unwise but I am not and in a few days I shall return home back to you and the children” he convinced.

“Can you promise me that?” she asked, trying to ride her face of tears.

He said nothing.

They had been fighting for days now. The home was now a warzone between opposing emotions. One who wanted to go, and one who was not ready to say goodbye to her husband, the father of her children.

 Days before, he had received a letter. Habitually, he placed it near his family picture before opening it. Old habits die hard.

 The letter confirmed his election. His time had come. Goodbye planet Earth. He screamed with joy. Unlike other humans, who psychologically yearn for affection and love of their families, he had never seen a family. No love, no affection, no attachment, and no purpose on Earth. This program suited him well. He felt she could take care of herself without him and the kids, well it would only make them stronger plus they had their mother for guidance.

The Republic of Siran had announced a month ago about their “Time-Travel” program. This occasion demanded the people of Siran to join the state’s time-travel program, a brainchild of the peculiar old mad man, fondly known in the state as Dr. Who.

 He conceived this thought of traveling through space into another dimension, a different universe. Siran had made a wormhole going at the speed of light and take the volunteers to an obscure world. A different universe of things to come. Siran had decided its people, would venture to every part of the future or past, return and educate the Republic regarding what they had broken down. The Republic would either adjust their present to the future or possibly change it by customizing their present. This is how they had maintained their eutopia for decades, to be selected for this program is the highest honor.

Individuals knew Siran for its illogical trials. It had conducted research that changed the behavioral patterns of people. They praised a populace which rested during days and worked around evening time. They designed people in their nation, again a test led by Dr. Who, to be impervious to temperature. Siran could not withstand the harshest summer and the frostbiting winters effortlessly. Truly, it was a place where there are superhumans. A land without feelings. Science had dominated. Their populace required no nourishment. Only a couple of tablets of a compound found in 2070 called “VIT” flew in their mouths, and they were useful for the rest of the day. Fresher ages considered nourishment to be a negligible dream of the more seasoned and mechanically incapacitated ages.

The time-travel program would start tomorrow. Siran was in a condition of festivity. He did not have the foggiest idea of what is in store. Siran was prepared to have another feather in their car. Individuals were prepared to lose 20 men, who were to be seen elsewhere from now.

 He did not care what became of him, if loss and rejection were finally to rest upon someone else’s shoulder’s he would go through with it. Leaving was never easy on anyone no matter how strong they appear; it takes a heart either filled with love or hollow and empty to walk away from everything you ever knew.

If only he knew their real intent, the torture they were to be put through in the name of science, time travel was still impossible their infamous Dr. Who was nothing but a mad man, who pulled parents from their children’s for his sick mutation experiments. The ‘information ‘brought back was just calculated guesses of his design, this planet has survived long enough in his eyes and the only way to help them is destruction.

She was broken and shattered inside, deep down she knew this was the last time for him. Death had another method for demonstrating its essence. Alive, yet at the same time not here, she comforted herself. She was holding his family picture. He felt the family grin at him through the photograph. Possibly he could meet them in what is to come. A pocket-sized monitor screen attached to his hand interrupted his thoughts, reminding him of the event.

“1 hour to go for the Republic of Siran’s Time-Travel Program, goal United States Washington, the year 2020,” the screen transmitted. He grinned, the more straightforward occasions. A time of emotions and joy, before the infections of technology could fully take over society. Dancing and laughter, no one had laughed here in what seems to be years, expression was known as weakness, and weakness was not tolerated under their rule.

 He said his last farewell, clutching the picture stashed in his pocket, no fear no pain.

His last words to her, “Another day, some other time”

 Twenty brave men and women were going to die that day, he did not need them alive for what he had planned ever since their advancement in technology the death rate declined to a whopping 1 percent in the entire Republic. The experiment required fresh human bodies to house his virus, similar to the one discovered in the early years of 2020 but this time far more deadly. The people were oblivious to his real intentions, and their demise will come soon but for now, he must celebrate his technological marvel. His victory, consuming his every thought chanting the same phrase over and over again.

In a few short days, the republic will fall.