What the Future Holds in the year 3000

  Friday night. I’m getting ready for a blind date.  I had an idea of what I wanted to wear; something dressy and yet very impressive, so, stepping into my wardrobe designer, I chose a Nehru Jacket, woven from the finest Omni-hued Annunakkian silk and dark Nibiruian silk trousers imbued with a light luster to compliment my jacket. When the designer finished forming my clothing around me the effect was one of night skies and starlight; very romantic, yet relaxed, but dressy enough for even the restaurant I would be going to. Pleased, I stepped out and as I checked my account balance one last time, I thought of where I was supposed to be meeting my blind date.



    The Brobdingnagian is the largest known restaurant in the galaxy. A massive complex, literally the size of Old New York City, circa 2009, it sported several thousand around-the-clock workers. Its Grand Central Station alone employed several hundred hostesses and busboys, and its non-robotic kitchen staff, included waiters and waitresses, numbering into the thousands. Its food was unrivaled in quality and selection anywhere. 

Because of its size, transportation to your table was a must and from its Grand Central Station you had your choice of three modes of conveyance, depending on your tastes, time limit, or budget. In my mind I ticked off which one I might choose to impress my date with, starting with the easiest and fastest.



    Teleportation Stations. These carried you directly to your table and were always the best choice when in a hurry to get in and get out, no matter where you were eating. Next were Monorails. A little slower than instantaneous travel, but they were extremely popular with tourists because they gave a bird’s eye view of the teeming metropolis of a restaurant below.  Because of this though they were always crowded and noisy, and might not be the best choice for a blind date. The third, and slowest, certainly seemed the most romantic, and it harkened back to Old New York’s past, which was always popular with Nostalgia buffs.  Horse-drawn Carriages, pulled by Bio-CGI horses, were popular with those patrons who did not have time restraints and wanted a little romance, a little cuddle time or time to talk with each other, privately, before arriving at their table. 



    Stepping from the Tele-hub and into The Brobdingnagian’s domed central station, I decided that a carriage might be best, though it might convey a more romantic message than I meant to give.  Before I could reconsider my choices though, a hostess that had been standing in a queue next to the tele-hub stepped out of line and approached me.  Smiling, she introduced herself as Kiran and asked if she could help me, and I suddenly found it difficult to even find my voice.  I slowly murmured, “Uh, yes … I have a reservation for two, for Alex Craytes.” 



    A screen materialized in front of her, and with her finger she moved a few squares around then said, business-like, “Oh yes, Mr. Craytes … I see your reservation, and we have you in section 186, District 38, table 524, if that’s satisfactory?” and seeing my hesitance, she added, “It’s one of our best sections, truly.”



    “Oh no… I said, stumbling over the words, “No, it’s fine…”  I assured her, looking around me at the busy throng.

“Well, then, Mr. Craytes …?  How would you like to travel to your table tonight?” 



    Her eyes were searching my face, concerned at my lack of attention to her questions, and waiting for my answer and suddenly I laughed, my voice returning, “Well I think we would like to travel by carriage, but my other party hasn’t arrived yet.”



    At that exact moment a young woman stepped up, hesitantly, and asked, “Are you Alex Craytes?”

She was a portrait in femininity. Petite and waif-like, with a peaches-and-cream complexion and skin and violet eyes that positively glowed with health and vitality. Her hair, full and rich looking, was the color of copper wiring, and spilled over her shoulders, falling from an elaborate hair style she had obviously take pains with.  She was dressed in an alien manner, that seemed to revel and cover at the same time and accentuated her stunning good looks.  Tongue-tied, I stammered, trying to remember her question, and finally managed to croak out, “Yes … Yes, I’m Alex! And you are ….?”



    She laughed, and held out a flawlessly manicured and delicate hand, “I’m Daryl Renate, Alex.  I’m so pleased to meet you”

We barely had time for anything other than a few pleasantries, before our carriage arrived.  Helping her into it, I again noticed how delicate and beautiful she was.  We spent the next 45 minutes chatting, and laughing together, pointing out the sites of The Brobdingnagian and its diners, and I found she was very versed in styles of architecture and design and I caught myself actually listening as she described certain elements in the building itself. 



    Talking to her was a pleasure, and we laughed and chatted easily together. I actually lost track of time because the forty-five minute ride seemed to fly by.  Suddenly, before either of us knew it, the horse and carriage slowed to a stop and the driver dismounted and came around to help us down.

Once seated, we continued our conversation, discussing our common interests and our futures.  Looking at Daryl in a different light, I could see she was as beautiful as I first thought. Shaking myself from my reverie, I suggested that we take a look at the menu and order something, “Then we can pick up where we left off while we wait.”  I added, and laughing, she nodded her head in agreement.



    The menu materialized at the center of our table.  Interactive and fully holographic, each entree could be explored by touching its picture.  The cuisine of every culture and subculture known to man, and even other planetary cuisines, were included and paging through its many levels took awhile.  To be honest, I wasn’t thinking much about food, enthralled as I was by her beauty and charm.  I couldn’t explain it, but somehow she made me feel comfortable; as if we had known each other for quite sometime.



    Eventually though, after much wavering, we decided on our main entrées and started adding them to our meal cart.  Pop up screens appeared now and then, clarifying how we wanted a dish prepared, or asking for our choices of sides, soup, salad and so forth.  Finally, after a few last minute changes, our order was ready to send in, and I leaned forward for the retina scan that would deduct the cost from my account.



    Receiving an estimated time of arrival for our meals, the menus vanished and almost immediately a waiter teleported in, bringing with him our appetizers and drinks.  After delivering them and making sure we had everything we needed he gave us his card.  “If you need anything else before I return with your meals, or at anytime during your meal, just call.  I’m 23580, and I’m your personal waiter tonight.”



    As he left to teleport back to wherever he had come from I said to Daryl, “I’m still surprised at how fast their service is, I mean we just ordered a couple seconds ago.”



    Daryl agreed, her voice cracking suddenly, and her face blushed as she cleared her throat.  “Sorry!  I must have a bad case of nerves!”

I thought this unusual, as we had been chatting comfortably for an hour or so now, and nerves seemed the farthest thing from our minds, but I said nothing, and we soon forgot ourselves again, losing each other in easy banter and laughter that was interrupted only by the delivery of our salad, and then our main entrée.



    Looking up from my meal, to answer something she had said, I noticed Daryl’s face seemed different. Dryer, a little coarser.  I had to take a second look, sure it hadn’t been that way seconds ago. Closing my eyes tightly and then reopening them I looked at her again. No, it was not my imagination, but as it was not a huge matter I soon forgot it, and we continued to enjoy our date as I learned she is a communication specialist with the government.

“That’s remarkable,” I said, “I specialize in Bio-Mechanics myself”  She raised her eyebrows as if she were impressed at my career and as we were discussing the particulars of our jobs, I noticed that she had a slight moustache showing over her upper lip.  I knew it had not been there just a short time ago, but now I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off it. Daryl noticed I was staring and finally asked, “Is there a problem?”



    Trying to think of something to say but coming up with nothing tactful, I finally blurted out, “No! Sorry! I just thought I saw …. a shadow … on your upper lip.”



    She looked a little nervous as she looked down at her bracelet and began to fiddle with it, then, laughing, she looked up and asked, “Well, what about dessert?  I think I could find room for some, if it’s as good as the main course!”



    Before I could answer, the dessert menu appeared and holographic images of delicious desserts they had to offer began to circle the table, and soon we were discussing the quality and characteristic of each dessert as it passed by.  I could not help but notice though, through the wavering ion field of the hologram that, while looking at our choices Daryl had brought out a small compact mirror and was examining her face carefully.  She definitely didn’t appear to be very happy as she snapped it closed, and asked brusquely, “Well, have you decided on something?”



    A little unsettled I decided on a caramel cappuccino Sundae, and waited while she ordered her dessert, then we sat in silence for a few moments until I asked, “Are you ok?”



    At first she did not answer, and then looked as if she might cry, and with a growing unease I waited for her to compose herself.  Finally she looked at me, and held out her hand, palm down. “Look at my hand. Notice anything?”



    At first I noticed nothing, then I realized that they had changed somehow, No longer as delicate, or as soft.  Her knuckles were larger, her nails wider and blunted.  I looked up at her, my eyes wide, and her face fell with anguish….



    “I’m sorry Alex.  I was hoping this wouldn’t happen, but since it did and since I like you so very much, I guess I should explain.”

Saying nothing I waited, and seeing that I was not going to speak, she signed and continued, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Have you ever heard of the Androganiti Alex?”



    “No I’m sorry, but I haven’t,”



    Daryl looked rather disappointed at my answer, but continued, “Androganiti come from a planet, not so very far from Earth, called Androganite,” She paused, waiting to see if I had anything to say, but al I could say was “Ok,” I said, “Go on…”



    “Ok.  Well, I’m an Androganite Alex, and if an Androganite doesn’t find a mate, before their twenty-fourth birthday, they start the change, and my birthday is in two days”



    I was really beginning to get worried, as I slowly stuttered, “T-the change, d-dare I ask?”



    Nodding, she slowly breathed her words, “In two days, I will change from female to male.”

I sat there trying to accept what I just heard.  I knew both our minds were racing a million miles a minute. Wanting to clarify everything I had heard, I asked, “So, in two days, if you have not found a mate, you turn from woman to man?”



    Daryl sighed, “Yes, whatever sex we are born with we always change to its opposite. It’s usually a slow process, but,” and she threw up her hands, “But it seems as if meeting you has sped up the process.  It’s based on chemicals and hormones and I do find myself quite attracted to you; you would seem to be my perfect mate.”



    Not knowing exactly what to say, I stumbled in my thoughts as I considered my best actions, trying to be open minded, especially in this day and age.  I mean in the year three thousand how can you be anything else. 



    My thoughts were entangled in a fierce battle of right and wrong, but watching her face, knowing she expected me to answer, “Thank you Daryl, for being honest with me. I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you, but if you are expecting to find a mate in me, I’m not sure I can fulfill that want.”



    Her face had dropped as she looked as though this was something she had become accustomed to.  Feeling her disappointment I continued, “I think I would love to continue to see each other as friends, while I take some time to think over this whole situation.”



    “Time to think it over!” she gasped, looking up at me, her eyes welling, “Alex, I don’t have the luxury of time!” Her voice broke as she began to sob, and oblivious to the other diners she continued, “Alex, our whole lives we are taught this day will come. We are prepared for it, coached and drilled in the ways of the change. It’s a part of our nature, and common place, but sometimes, there are those that fight against it. We want to remain what we were born. I don’t WANT to change Alex; I want to be who I am!”



    I felt her obvious pain, but really didn’t know how to respond. “I really am so sorry Daryl,”



    Standing suddenly, sending her napkin flying, she looked down at me, her once perfect jaw now angular and hard.  “I’m sorry too Alex. I didn’t mean to draw you into my problems. I apologize. It’s my problem … you don’t even know me, and I won’t bother you again!” and rushing to the aisle she threw herself into a teleporter and was gone. I sat in stunned silence, aware suddenly of other diners watching, and without knowing what else to do, I left too.



    So that is the story of how your mother and I met. Suffice it to say I did not leave things as they were after she left me that night, and we decided to tell you the full gory details, because every child deserves to know where they came from and what their future might have in store for them.  We love you very much and wanted you to be prepared because you are eleven now, and in a few years, you might start noticing some changes that your friends aren’t experiencing. We’re not sure yet which of us you take after, but there might be a chance you are your mother’s daughter.