Coca-Cola Jones

The man in the silver suit pointed to the holographic map of Quadrant 9.

“Today over Boisen State, you can expect mostly clear skies, with minimal chance of solar flares reaching the outer zone, but tonight keep those forcefields up. The Danaarn meteor shower will be hurling baseball-sized meteors your way.”

He glanced at Natalie Tacoma. She winced.

“Well, that wraps up tonight’s weather forecast. Have a humble and righteous day. Coca-Cola Jones signing off.”

Cola closed the holographic map of Quadrant 9, ready for Natalie’s scolding, but he cut her off. “I know baseball is an archaic reference that most people don’t understand. It slipped out.”

Natalie scowled.

“Well, keep it in next time. It makes you look pretentious.”

Cola rolled his eyes. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt for people to pick up a book now and then.”

A faint smile traced her lips. “You’re right, but you know what Kirk will say.” She winked.

Cola leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “You want to know something that will really make me sound pretentious?”

She nodded. “Wait. Is it something you should tell me?”

He nodded. “I finally found a Mustang Shelby.”

Her eyes widened. “A car. One of those game cars?”

He stood back. “I think the word you’re looking for is sports car.”

He paused.

“Want to go for a ride?”

“Is it safe?”

“Perfectly.”

He pulled a small metallic object from his pocket and waved it at her. “This is what makes it go. I’ve been reading about these since I was eight cycles. I’m taking it for a spin. That’s what they used to say.”

He paused.

“And I want my best girl beside me.”

She stared at the piece of metal for a long time. It was small with one long jagged end. The other was oval with some kind of writing. It looked like “Fod.” She’d never seen anything like it.

Natalie glanced at her feet. “Alright. I get off at ten.”

Cola grinned.

“Alright, that will give me time to consult with Arcadian One.” He gently squeezed her arm and headed to his hovercraft.

The temple of Arcadian One sat at the central terminal of the city. The great computer waited for its disciples to serve and to question. Its processors had long since begun multiplying. Cola waited in the terminal chair, reading through pamphlets about the Awakening, Arcadian One, and the Joining petition.

He glanced up as acolytes crossed the room.

The sexless people were bald, and computer code scrolled across their skin, their faces ever changing.

He was both awestruck and horrified. Yet, there had been a time he’d almost joined them. Now, he was the most famous weatherman in all the Quadrants, and, he thought, the owner of a Mustang Shelby.

“Number 789.” A monotone voice echoed through the room.

Cola stood, waving his hollocard. “I’m here.”

He walked the long path to the central sanctuary.

Arcadian One’s monitor filled each wall.

Cola shivered.

A beep followed by a long buzz filled his ears.

“Can I help you, Coca-Cola Jones?”

Cola knelt before glancing up at the center screen. “Yes, great terminal.”

His voice shook. “I have come to ask if Natalie Tahoma and I will ever join.”

Numbers rushed across the screen. “No. Your codes do not match. Therefore, you may not join and damage the genetic code of the human race.”

Cola frowned. “But what about the shots? I could take the shots.”

The terminal’s voice boomed. “You have been answered, Coca-Cola Jones. Heed my words, or you will find yourself shipped off to Galileo Bell Grande with the other outcasts.”

Cola bowed low until his face lightly touched the floor.

He stared at the cold marble below him and counted to ten before answering. “Yes, great terminal.”

He ran from the room, listening to the key jingle in his pocket, a plan forming in his mind.

Cola smiled at Natalie’s sleeping figure in the front seat of his Mustang Shelby. He was glad he’d read the books about driving a manual car. It’d taken a few tries, but the Mustang Shelby purred as she cruised past the city’s outer limits. Natalie didn’t know, but they weren’t coming back.

In the distance, he watched the first meteor strike the ground, wondering if it were the last meteor storm he’d ever see.