This is my entry for the "Ink Well" weekly contest. I spontaneously decided to take part, when I read the prompt. It was great fun!
KRUZMAKA
"Do you think that we now live the predicted future society, which has overcome poverty and misery to create a perfect model for living, in which everyone's needs are met?" Kruzmaka asked the person sitting next to him in a laying chair, while they watched the ski-lifts.
The days they arrived were like any other day. They merely passed through one of the portals they had created, no spaceships had been seen in the earthly sky, so the media did not give any sensations either, since nothing sensational was to be sighted. The aliens not only reached the Earth in an unspectacular way, they also appeared in human form, so that no one noticed that unknown beings had mingled with the people. Who traveled the cosmos, knew that one could not simply land somewhere and then make relaxed a stroll, without causing irritation and hysteria at each corner.
There was plenty of space and untouched terrestrial areas on the planet where one could walk through the portal unobserved. Contrary to the assumptions of many Earthlings who saw their habitat as overcrowded, overused and depleted, the arrivals found it friendly and peaceful. The many areas, stretching over hundreds of square miles, consisting of either forests, rocks, or minerals, provided places of solitude. Sometimes so colorful that it left one speechless.
Why the earthlings settled in densely populated cities seemed nonsensical to the incomers, especially since dispersing them to less dense settlements would make them least susceptible to worries of all kinds.
It was noted that people seemed to suffer from a shortfall that caused them to believe in the end of the world, and they indulged in these scenarios more than willingly. A contradiction to what had been achieved, as Kruzmaka found. He had been coming through the portal for more than three earthly centuries.
"As it seems, it is not possible to arrive in the future, because no sooner are you there than the future has already hurried ahead," his earthly friend, Mrs. Weihrich, finally answered him, sipping her mulled wine with gloved hands. "The best way to predict the future is to create it, isn't it?" she added. A critical tone mingled with this sentence.
"So you are against the creation of such futures?", Kruzmaka wanted to know. "It is irrelevant whether I am for it or against it, it happens entirely without my intervention," Mrs. Weihrich replied, sighing.
"Chaos theory, nonlinear science, and standard evolutionary theory talk about complex systems as sensitively dependent on complex environmental conditions and random within limitations, making the vast majority of future events unpredictable in any case." Kruzmakas' attempt to comfort Mrs. Weihrich in this way failed.
She now turned to him fully, "So what! Nobody understands that anyway! People want simple explanations for non-simple processes! They just pretend that there is an explanation for everything and spread it around. I just say 'Three P's and a W', but what do people answer me?"
"Yes, what do they answer?", Kruzmaka wanted to know, although he knew it.
One of the models to explore the future was called "three P's and a W," meaning a possible, probable, and preferred future, plus wildcards, i.e., unexpected, seemingly improbable, but consequential events of both a positive and negative nature.
"They say that ...," but before Mrs. Weihrich could finish her sentence, a skier suddenly dashed into Kruzmaka, who was catapulted forward and landed groaning on the ground. Pursued by an avalanche, which pushed itself threateningly rumbling down the mountain and directly toward the terrace, on which Kruzmaka and Mrs. Weihrich had held their chat, the skier had wanted to save himself in panic on the terrace.
But Kruzmaka had already nimbly got to his feet, grabbed Mrs. Weihrich's with a strong hand, and then they sprinted in a mighty run to their jet ski, which Kruzmaka had parked not far away. While still running, Kruzmaka shouted in bright joy, "Get on the back!" and before anyone could copy them, they were dashing away across the approaching snow masses. With a racing heart, Mrs. Weihrich clung to Kruzmaka, always looking beside her, until they at last reached a white area where it was safe. Finally they stopped and the engine died into the silence.
Completely beside herself and breathing heavily, Mrs. Weihrich exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! Oh, my goodness! Oh my!"
"Yes, isn't it?", Kruzmaka laughed a little erratically, dismounted, hoisted Mrs Weihrich down, only to lift her right back up again and spun her around in circles in good humour.
"But the others! The other people!" shouted Mrs Weihrich. "Surely some are dead and buried!".
"Yes! That will be so!", Kruzmaka replied to her no less excitedly. "But not us! We drew our wild card!" he laughed.
Mrs. Weihrich looked at him like for the first time: "Who are you? Are you one of them? They are here, aren't they?"
Years later, Mrs Weihrich told her grandchildren about this episode and they hung on to her tale with quivering lips.
The End
Title picture - a collage made out of:
Photo by Chris Biron on Unsplash
Photo by Weston MacKinnon on Unsplash