Los Angeles 2053

By Phil Penner

The offshore breeze causes the full moon to glare through the dry and naked summer sky like a flashlight of the gods. Rex is a lean biological machine with a serpentine grin and a micro winged mocha flat-top. Rita is his longstanding babe. She’s tighter than the tomb raider, encased in a painted on self-cooling jumpsuit that changes colors like a chameleon mood ring with headlights. They’re riding north up the 405 freeway from Costa Mesa in their tandem seat enclosed electric motorcycle. A surveillance drone helicopter zips overhead with red and blue lights flashing and another floodlight blazing onto the road.

     “Heads up,” says Rita. “Breach of defenses at Los Alamitos Boulevard.”

     Rex scrutinizes the cautionary message above their night vision monitor and says, “They must be headed for the original farm district.”

Rex slows to 50 kilometers per hour. Along the north side of the freeway is a rail system for automobile sized security drones commonly known as ‘Sherman’. As one races by them its firepower is comfort for the traveling couple. Atop the rotating turret is a telescopic survey device. The head shoots up 3 meters for more effective surveillance.

     Rex stops their vehicle as they see a human form 50 meters ahead. The man’s forearms are clamped against his head trying to block out the sound cannon from the helicopter drone that’s also flooding the figure with light while the Sherman approaches.

The Sherman’s turret rotates and an air cannon blasts out what appears to be a missile. Just before it sails over the subject the missile explodes and jettisons its shell components horizontally. These components spread out an oval shaped net. The net comfortably captures the man who belly flops forward while running as fast as possible.

Suddenly 3 more humans begin racing across the freeway. Another human, a sniper on the north side of the freeway opens fire with an automatic weapon. This person is attempting to disable the Sherman’s surveillance equipment. The heli-drone fires one precise high caliber rifle projectile that splatters the snipers braincase clear off of it’s neck. Rex and Rita didn’t see this occur though they heard the pop pop pop of the weapons. 

A second Sherman is rapidly approaching from the north and nets two of the others crossing the freeway. Another subject is now crossing between the first Sherman and Rex and Rita. The Sherman blasts out a pair of tazer leads. Only one lead penetrates the subject and thusly fails.

     “This dude is in deep shit,” says Rex. “The Sherman is running out of options.”

The Sherman waits until the subject is in the freeway median and opens fire. Pssw, pssw, pssw, pssw, multiple rubber projectiles launch like rockets and the wayward immigrant is knocked sideways to the ground as if hit by a car.

“Oh my god,” says Rita. “Do you think he’s gonna make it?”

“As opposed to surviving the desert,” says Rex. “At least now he’ll get a hospital bed until he can fend for himself.”

A van now arrives with the cavalry, four android perimeter control officers. The moon glistens off of their smoky black exoskeletons.

“X3T2C’s, we built those suckers,” says Rex, quite excitedly. It’s a real treat for him to see his engineering efforts in action. “They’d better not piss them off,” he continues. “The X3’s are fully conscious and we’ve birthed many of them in November to have a no bullshit attitude.”

The state of the art androids are created with an electronic aura, very low frequency brainwaves that flow through semi-conductor gel medium and software that employs a descending clock speed. These are electronic sentient beings that are ‘born’ with personalities just like humans. One of the many advantages of these androids is that they are more fully hardwired per se to the same universal or ‘god’ consciousness that we are. Therefore, they usually tend to be more considerate, peaceful and nurturing than many of us overly selfish humans. Some people wonder how long the androids will tolerate our antics and speculate that humans will ultimately end up in android zoos for the preservation of the parent species.

One of the gleaming figures makes quick work of loading the wounded migrant on a stretcher. Two other officers collect the three migrants who struggle to get free from the capture nets. The headless corpse is left on the north side of the freeway for migrants to do with as they please.

“Stop,” says Rita. “One of them looks like my cousin Alfredo.”

“No way are we gonna interfere with the droids,” says Rex. “We’ll stop by the detention center on the way back. Maybe the migrants will be posted online tonight.”

Rita sulks back into her seat and says, “Jus go.”

While Rex awaits clearance another migrant begins to bolt across the freeway. The fourth officer spots him and takes after him in a dead run.

“Check that shit out,” says Rex. “The X3 is maxin out at 57 kph. Totally flawless, no city state has built better security than ours.”

The android quickly overtakes the migrant and tazes him with his fingertips. As if finishing a fifty-meter dash, the weight of the X3 plows dirt with its boots in several steps while stopping. The X3 returns to the migrant and tosses him over its terrace like shoulder for the quick trot back to the van.

“What’s going to happen to them?” asks Rita.

“Sacramento’s taking a few,” says Rex. “Many of them are getting shipped up to near the Great Lakes.”

“I saw a documentary,” says Rita. “There are nearly a billion people trying to survive on the fresh water supply up there.”

 “Bets are,” says Rex. “Ten years max, before the global population bubble collapses down to 2 or 3 billion in the city states. Can you imagine what Chicago has to do to maintain its defenses?… By the way, where are we going.”

“Three guesses.”

“Kilimanjaro Cali?” asks Rex.

Rita glances down while shaking her head.

“Chumash Indigenous?”

“You don’t even know me,” says Rita. “North on the 110.”

Rex smiles and they depart. There are several culturally themed parks around the Los Angeles basin. Due to the expense of electro-gravitic air travel and the time required for high-speed global rail, themed parks have become practical alternatives to travel. In this manner we have helped many ethnic groups maintain their sense of cultural identity.

+++

The Century City Council is ensconced above the audience. This is the seat of power of the Los Angeles basin. The mayor of Los Angeles, Miguel Rivera is a dandy with a mercurial quality about him. He stands at the podium in his crisp white linen suit with the eye of a peacock feather glaring out from the side of his icy white Panama.

     Miguel speaks with a half-shot of Peruvian accent and gleam in his eye, “We must have you recognize most venerable Council, to reduce the flow of water to our farms would be most unfortunate, we employ the most efficient hydroponics and metered potted plant systems. If you cut back on the liquid of life it will most certainly rob you of the vibrant energy we send to your tables.”  

     Antoinette Verona is the Minister of Water and Power who says, “Mr. Rivera, just yesterday three rocket propelled grenades nearly destroyed the main water valves controlling the flow of water into Los Angeles. Have you found the perpetrators?”

     “Yes, the Human Justice League,” says Miguel. “It was in retaliation for drastic cuts in the flow of water beyond the 710 for nine consecutive months.”

     “Have you noticed any turf by the surf lately sir?” Antoinette asks while glaring out from just under her brow. “We’ve cut everyone on the West side of the 405 by 7 percent for 2 years running. None of us are happy about living in a desert.”

     “Isn’t the Hyperion Seaweed and Hydro Distillation project in full production yet?” asks Miguel.

     “No,” says Antoinette. “We’ve had difficulties with evaporation containment. We’re only at 40 percent of our projected fresh water yield from the ocean. We’ve had success with our solar stills.”

     These solar stills are thousands of buoys that have clear shells that shed salt spray. On top are magnifying glasses and mirrors that concentrate sunlight on a flowing saltwater tray below. As the saltwater evaporates and condenses it’s collected in a tank below water level. These buoys are tethered on a loop and use their steam power to migrate out and back to their docking stations while their reservoirs are filling.

     Colin Dowel is the Minister of Defense on the council. He sports a gold encased quicksilver badge over his beefy breast. The backlit badge reshapes itself every three seconds, cycling through his decorations. He bellows into the conversation, “Mr. Rivera, certainly you’re aware that we’re in a protracted standoff with the San Franciscans about watershed restoration.” Colin furrows his brow like a hang glider and continues, “If we don’t cut back they will cut us back… They’ve allowed us to restore our water table to seventy five percent of its maximum capacity. We need their cooperation for another decade to become self sufficient.”

     Miguel drops down a couple of vertebrae under the weight of the entire Council. A more recent contributor to city water tables are the re-engineered and expanded river deltas that flow inland into the water tables.

     “And by the way sir,” continues Colin. “Do you suppose your growers could cut back on their cannabis rituals and ramp up production a notch?”

“We truly appreciate what a great job the security services are doing sir,” responds Miguel quite meekly. “Please recognize that we have maintained our diligence in nurturing your food supply and that we maintain the most productive solid waste recycling program in Southern California.”

Miguel raises his stature once more and continues, “If we are to provide the same level of service while cutting the water by 10 percent we will need to have only sponge bathing throughout our city, and Sir, would this not detract from the relaxed ambiance of the city?”

     “Actually,” says Hans Frederich, Technology Minister. “Assisted sponge baths sound like fun…. We’ll get you the state of the art filtration systems you need to keep your showers flowing. Just keep making love to our food supply. That’s what’s keeping Los Angeles on our side of the line you know.”

     Miguel realizes that the West side boys and girls have been quite successful with their exotic botanicals. He’s certain the West Side lacks sufficient real estate and will to take on the entire food supply.

     Betty Hargrave is the Minister of Migration and Population Control. She blurts out, “Don’t forget Miguel, the census is scheduled for November. Our drones must be allowed un-fettered access to all domiciles. We will tolerate no more population increases.”

     “We have heard from some sectors that L A county is now capable of sustaining more than 3 million people,” says Miguel. “We shall however, maintain zero population growth and carry out our charge with honor and pride. To be certain, for the maintenance of present production we can shoulder no more than a five percent cutback this year.”

Miguel Rivera tips his hat and steps back from the podium.

+++

     Rex is cruising up Alameda in Tijuana del Norte, a district in south Los Angeles. The aroma of taco vendors wafts through their enclosed motorcycle. Beautiful senoritas are smiling with ‘Psst’ lips and spanked up hips. Occasionally he smiles and tosses his head back toward Rita in the rear seat.

On the north side of little T J he pulls into Mayaland. The park is built to replicate the restored ruins of Chichen Itza on the Yucatan Peninsula. As they stroll past the center of the primary pyramid Rex claps his hands for Rita thus causing the echo of a Quetzal bird to bounce at them. This garners him a kiss.

As they walk on, waiters emerge from kitchens below the drought resistant grass site. Lodge pole cabanas with thatched roofs cover tables made of stone discs surrounded by rustic wood and wicker seating. The park is usually filled to capacity on weekends and is a major cultural center of Los Angeles. 

“Our room is just ahead,” says Rita.

“How much is it?” asks Rex.

“7.255.”

Electronic currency is a global standard used by all advanced global city-states. There was much debate when this system of compensation was set up. Many said that any form of money is a corruptive influence that should be eliminated from the human condition. After all, this is why there are still the occasional prostitute and entrepreneur who are operating in self-destructive manners. The philosophical argument that won is that a fair balance needs to be struck to form an egalitarian society with incentive. As one looks to the universe for understanding of how our spirits with ids and egos are formed we find a multitude of variety that boggles the mind. We have emotions that can not be satisfied with totally generic conditions. We need an opportunity to exercise the individual powers that make us unique in different ways. Without this life is too boring and the system will be corrupted by cronyism anyway. What has been settled on is that the most wealthy shall never be so rich or the disadvantaged so poor that disrespect of our natural talents promotes abuse of one another. 

Much of the international shipping is done on nuclear powered ships, many of these are remodeled air craft carriers.

Most of the rooms at Mayaland are elevated and behind lush artificially landscaped stone terraces. The long thatched roofs are supported by hundreds of round stone columns made to exact scale of the original archeological site. The precise scale is what permits the echo chamber effects around the various aspects of the site. Behind them in the ball court is a huge party. A specialized band plays unusual percussion music that bounces here and there due to the unique acoustics. 

+++

     It’s now edging into the eight o-clock hour of the morning. Rita slips open the woven grass curtains and window leading to the outside perimeter of the hotel. She radiates glowingly at the sound of the farmers singing to their vegetables. The hydroponics gardens and hothouses supply the hotel and surrounding markets with vine fresh food most any time of the day. Many L A city farms supply the West Side on a twice daily basis.

There are also micro chicken farms mixed into the restaurant districts. Perimeter zones of the cities farm a variety of products that include tilapia, salmon and crustacean farms as well. 

Rita kisses Rex to wake him from his slumber. “Babe,” she says. “Breakfast is in one hour on the terrace.”

     Rex shakes off some of his sleepy head and notices Rita’s sultry gaze. He jumps up and does a quick tooth brushing. While returning to Rita he presses her against the wall with her arms spread eagle.

     “Did I mention,” says Rex. “You don’t have to get anymore contraceptive shots.”

     Rita smiles bigger than Texas with eyes glassing over and chokes out, “We got our baby license?”

     “Ya,” says Rex, all aglow. “Let’s have this mornings appetizers in the shower.”