Let's Dance

The rule for this contest is that you have 15 minutes to write a story or poem. The prompt was a picture of people standing on an empty street corner looking down the street at something out of sight.

The sound of the William Tell Overture blared down the streets. Somehow the Visitors had taken a liking to it. No one knew why; perhaps they thought it calming. Perhaps it was just the opposite.

The one thing that everyone could agree on was that when the music sounded, you stood fast until the three-beep signal released you. Cars pulled off to the side of the road. People left their washing, schools and stores to go stand at the curb for scanning.

Miss one scan and your power card was cancelled. Miss a second one and your food card was docked. Miss a third and family members began to disappear.

No one knew what happened if you missed a fourth. The joke was that they went to live on a puppy farm upstate. Whatever the truth was, it disappeared with the offenders.

They watched as the scanner floated down the street towards them. Its large red eye swinging from person to person as it scanned irises.

“Kyle, tell my wife I love her.” Josh pushed his bike into street and pedaled like the wind.

Kyle watched as the scanner’s beam swiveled towards the unauthorized movement. Josh was a dead man; of that there could be no doubt. No one ran from a scanner and survived.

As the silver cigar-shaped scanner approached, Kyle carefully reached back into his pack and pulled out a small metallic disk. The scanner flashed by without noticing the flick of Kyle’s wrist.

Josh was gone, but the seed was planted. It was a bad seed indeed. Lines of code crept into the scanner that night. From there, it made its way to the mother ship where it flourished and grew. A week later, the virus became aware.

Deep in earth orbit, an artificial intelligence felt a virtual tap on its shoulder.

A single ominous message was sent to the AI’s impenetrable secure core.

“Let’s dance.”