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Daily Short Story Three: They Sprung It On Us All At Once

This might be science fiction, or some kind of dream (or both). Or just some weirdness to brighten your day.

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New Dallas Incarceration Center, July 14, 2142

They sprung it on us all at once. They being the government, of course.

It all started like this: I got this communication, that's what they call it, a communication, from the Warden, Commander Betruger. He's not such a bad guy once you get to know him.

Anyways, this communication says that I'm going to be part of a new program to help build civilizations on other planets. It will be like an experiment and a chance at a new life for guys like me. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Okay, not really, but you MIGHT think 'what good is this guy? He stole credits from convenience and other kinds of stores. He ain't no good. Just keep him locked away somewhere.'

Well, I'm sure glad the global government don't think that way. I'm not such a bad guy. I just got involved with some bad actors, that's all. I hardly never hurt nobody. That one girl I killed got in the way, that's all. You can't really blame me for THAT!

So, anyways AGAIN, this communication I got said that I was going to be teleported to another planet with an atmosphere almost exactly like Earth's, and that me and a bunch of scientists and doctors and teachers and engineers and I don't know what all are going to be building a new civilization. Because all the pollution and the fallout from that little nuclear war we had about fifty years ago is slowly killing us all and we got to find new places to live.

They said teleporting is like astral travel. Which they explained to me is when your spirt travels outside your body to wherever it wants to. Which sounds weird to me. I mean, how do you know if you're traveling in that astral way or just dreaming? But that's what they said it was like, except that your physical body goes with you in this new way. Which is good. I kind of like my body. Here in the isolation pod there ain't much to do but exercise and listen to the Commander's sermons that are piped into our pods about every hour or so. He's not so bad, but listening to the High Director of the Global Government drone on for two hours a day is torture! And everybody in the world is REQUIRED to watch and/or listen to it! (I know this part will be cut, but I just had to say it!)

They say the only bad part is that instead of going where you're supposed to go is that you might go to what they call an 'alternate universe'. Which is another weird thing to me, but they said that's where you go to a place just like earth, but that it's a different reality. Like, for instance, the Outsiders might have won the global conflict that happened about sixty years ago, and then you might be in a really weird world where there was more than one government and more than one authorized way of doing almost anything and everything. I don't know about you, but that sure sounds scary to me!

Well, that's about all I got to say. They told me to write this letter and read it on video so that my friends (most of whom are here in prison with me) and family (I don't know where they are anymore, and they probably don't care about me anyway) will know what happened to me. The last thing I want to say is that I honestly hope I can be a better person on this new planet and I thank the Warden and the High Director for choosing me to participate in this extremely important project. I really look upon it as a privilege and an honor.

"Is that all he wrote, Sergeant Stryker?"

"Yes, sir, and he read it on the video word for word, Commander Betruger."

"Excellent. This one's the best so far. All the others were illiterate idiocy and foul mouthed whining." The Warden put his feet up on his desk. "Edit all the other videos and put these words in their mouths. After editing, of course, We all know what can and can't be said around here. Send the letter via email in their names to their friends and family, should they happen to have any."

The Warden stood up and walked over to the sergeant. "Tell me, sergeant, did eight seven four two nine have as successful a trip as all the others did?"

The sergeant reached into his holster, withdrew his gun, and put the still warm 'teleporter' on the Warden's desk. "Yes, sir. Just as successful."

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