I'm sitting here looking at the Doc like he's crazy. He says the neural implant is activated and will keep track of my thoughts from now on. For however long now on is.
Right. Sometimes thoughts are images. Wordless. How can those be recorded, Doc?
Not to worry, the software will translate it into readable text.
That's crazy. What about things I say out loud? Will everything I see and hear be recorded, too?
Yes. In readable text. We need a record of your final thoughts. Everything that goes through your mind.
For science, right Doc? Ha ha!
He's giving me a strange look and now he's leaving my cell.
I'm sitting here alone with my thoughts. Guess they're being recorded for posterity. Never liked that word, posterity. Reminds me too much of posterior. Right now my posterior is in a heap of trouble.
Act of terror. That was the charge. One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter, right?
It was the Cause. That's why I did it. If my thoughts are being recorded, I want that down for the record. My posterior for posterity. I did it for the Cause.
So how'd it happen? I guess this things records memories, too. Okay, fine, I'll remember the story and maybe the software will translate it into readable text for the lab coats.
We were going to take down as many government officials as we could in one day.
Yeah, I admit it. I mean, what's the point of denying it? I'm on Death Row in Huntsville, Texas. Fifty miles from Houston. Fifty miles from Bryan-College Station. Fifty minutes to death. Dang, that's poetic! I'm glad a computer is recording everything. Maybe the lab coats can publish it or something.
Where was I? The Cause!
I actually took some polysci courses in community college. I know what our organization could be labeled, what it was labeled: anarchists. Yeah, we would be known as anarchists if anybody stopped to think about it. Which we didn't. We were too busy trying to change things from the top down. By force.
Our goal is to take down the government by threats and intimidation. They think by executing me that justice is being served. They don't know there are hundreds more like me. Thousands. Killing me isn't going to change anything. Their notion of justice is just a social construct.
Dang, I really did learn something in that class.
We waited until June. Lots of things have happened in June. The 1907 Bolshevik bank robbery occurred in June. That one funded the Soviet Revolution in Russia. We are in good historical company.
My job was pretty boring, a far cry from Lenin shooting up Yerevan Square. I was to send a bomb through a delivery drone to take out some politicians.
It should have been easy, too. What I didn't know is the State Capitol in Austin has an anti-explosive field around it, at least while the Legislature is in session. They were held over into June in special session, and so were the anti-explosive measures.
Yeah, it was pretty anti-climatic. The drone showed up, and nothing happened. Failure to explode. All sorts of sensors went off, though. The Bomb Squad was called in. The building was evacuated with armored limos whisking everybody away.
Here's a thought. Maybe the lab coats can mull this one over. If the anti-explosive measures are so great, why evacuate everybody when the bomb sensors go off? Huh? What's up with that?
YOU ARE READING
Final ThoughtsShort Story
A chip in his brain records a condemned prisoner's final thoughts, translating them into readable text. Follow along until the very end. Get this and other short stories in Quantum Magic on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JFTKZ4C/