Tomorrow's World

This is my last account and I only hope that this will find its way into the right hands. No one was or is supposed to know.

We, humans, had an enemy that would forever shadow our steps, every one of us. None could cheat or evade him-Death.

Why did the word produce a cold sweat all over us? Why did it send a shiver up our spines?
There are many reasons: Fear of pain and suffering, of losing those near and dear, or simply of owning up to all those petty crimes that all of us have done.
Over the years, we had advanced in all the fields, from medicine to transportation. But still, our own fickle and short lives held us back from true progress.
But, that was going to change.

It was the year 2201(1) when I had joined the research team hopeful, keen and eager to please. We were going to make history, this great victory of Science and Man over Nature and God.

But there were quite a few barriers to overcome. Safety and morality were big questions. The sheer determination of the team wouldn't be enough, contrary to what some would believe, but with a little string pulling, everything was fine again. The others on the team all had something in this venture. For some it was the want for a better life and the purging of disease, while for others, it was the usual - material gain. I guess I was in it for the fame and self-satisfaction.

The actual process, however, was long and complex. Time and time again, we were met with failure and became frustrated. I was always running back and forth, trying my best to assist my agitated team members. This project meant as much to me as any of them and I was determined to stay on, however long the hours or grueling the tasks.

Several years later, in 2210(1), was when our dreams, as well as so many before us, took shape, born from the latest technologies and Science.

The result of all our hard work: a chemical that should have been the end of our problems -- Pana. This miracle elixir worked by stimulating cell growth, increasing it several fold. The cell repair and reproduction were so active, wounds would heal almost instantaneously, age didn't happen at all, and disease had no chance. We were, finally, immortal.

The announcement was made, the masses cheered, and all was right. Never mind the small questions of side effects that were brought up, it was a proud and victorious moment for all of us. In the name of goodwill and grace, the elixir was shipped off to the rest of the world.

Almost everyone accepted Pana readily and without question, except for a few people who either wanted no part in this 'crime against nature', or simply had no wish to stay on the earth for so long. The latter, I had thought, were simply being silly, and eventually, most took to the right path because of the pressure they faced. If you didn't want to, a loved one would, and who were you to be selfish enough to leave them alone and hanging?

As for those misguided few who thought that our project was far too daring and dangerous, I'm sad to say that they didn't have much time to stage protest, unlike if they had just done what everyone else was doing.
I myself took Pana even before it had hit the markets, a move made in a moment of pride and blindness that I would come to regret.

As expected, the quality of life improved greatly over the next few years. People strived in a common goal, to create a world worthy of our newly elevated status. Crime was the first concern, in light of this new blessing. But with strict rules enforced by the law, crime rates dropped. The penalty was death, ironically, for all crimes. It was the methods that made such an impact. Dismemberment, or the injection of a poison so potent it dissolved the insides; neither seemed very attractive. For the first few decades, the world was at peace.

Small signs started showing at the turn of the century. Some later said it was the unnatural change that led to a loss of a sense of time. We became unmotivated, lethargic and depressed. "Why work so hard now when I have forever to do it?", that was the mindset of most.
It worsened over time, with some even developing self-destructive habits because, in their words, they wanted to feel alive. Why worry about cutting when the wound heals in a few seconds, leaving no trace?
I was dejected and deeply saddened by what was happening. Where had my perfect world gone?
Perhaps humans were not equipped to live forever, our minds being too fragile, so easily shattered.

That wasn't the end of it.
In the second or third generation, problems really started showing. The rate of defected infants born, with extra limbs or features like an ear, hand or head, rose dramatically. There was a massive outcry at the frightening turn of events. I will never forget the anguished faces of so many as they set eyes on their children, mutated and almost alien. But Fate was not content with just splitting my heart in half, it wanted me completely broken. What happened next was the final blow.

The effects of Pana, over time, were devastating. Because of the increased cell activity, metabolism rates spiked, rising to almost deadly levels. A single day without sufficient nourishment, and the body would cave in on itself. In the less fortunate countries is where this struck the worst. People dropped dead left and right, leaving desolate towns and empty fields -- ghost towns.

The higher parties, those involved with us, had tried to keep everything under cover. For all the public knew, this was caused by some new pandemic. We, the original team of researchers, of whom only half still stood, had banded together and struggled to put an end to this suffering. I wish, with all my heart, to tell you that we had succeeded, that we had found an antidote and humanity was saved. I really do.

Strange how a project that began with completely good intentions, though motivated by more human desires, could lead to something so terrible. And isn't it ironic? Our goal was to create a race of superior beings and ensure humanity's bright future, and instead, half the world's population will probably be gone by the next century.

I am sorry.

With that final word scrawled on the wrinkled paper of the journal, a hand closed down on the book and bound it firmly with a length of black ribbon. Under a hollowed floorboard, it was hidden, with the hope of someone finding and knowing its tale. She was tired of the guilt and the ghosts that haunted her dreams, tired of the pain and of life in general. No more. She raised the wine glass, its dark red content swirling lazily, and tipped the liquid into her mouth. The burning feeling gradually intensified, killing the cry of agony before it left her throat.


1
Note: A reference to Nostradamus's prediction of Judgment Day, but with the numbers jumbled up as the actual year given was too soon.