Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 1

Four days earlier.

What the hell? Eric Roberts cracked open his eyelids, face furrowing as an indiscernible noise roused him from sleep. He cranked his neck sideways and identified the party responsible for ruining his morning–his dreaded alarm clock.

He reached over and tapped the blue holographic Snooze option, which hovered over the clock's readout. With the ten-minute timer counting down, he contently rolled back over, the sweet darkness consuming him seconds later. Nine minutes and fifty-two seconds later, his morning fell to pieces, again.

Eric extended an agitated hand and flicked off the alarm, dismayed that his new waking track failed its goal. The previous night he selected Nature Sounds – Crashing Waves and Seagulls, hoping this would improve his ordinarily miserable mornings. When selected, the track sounded great. Now it merely grated.

Association, he concluded, agitated fingers rubbing sleep from his eyes. Clearly, improper context could crush life's greatest contentment.

He eased back the covers and slowly rose, careful not to wake Kim. With both feet on the cold tile and his palms beside him on the bed's warmth, he took a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the faint lights illuminating the room.

Eyes acclimated, he turned and observed Kim's outline, the shadowy traces of her body stimulating familiar thoughts–thoughts of how their relationship veered so drastically from its former trajectory.

Their union had lasted numerous years, but over the previous two, the path to eternal happiness grew uneven. Then over the previous two months, the trail's footing turned treacherous, after clues of her straying cropped up.

Eric faced back into the darkness.

This suspicion couldn't have emerged at a worse time. It was a misfortune tacked onto an already full list, and the mounting weight nudged uncertainty ever closer, so close that it sat beside him on these miserable mornings, quietly staring.

Eric grew uncomfortable under the gaze, so he stood and searched for clothes, along with existential meaning. He found the day's attire easily enough, but life's purpose proved more elusive, making him question continuing at all, of getting up to begin a day no different from the last.

What's the point, he thought while quietly exiting the room, then just as silently, shutting the door behind him. The human species is at its end.

In truth, the human species wasn't at its end, or rather, it didn't teeter on the verge of any fatal catastrophe. But Eric wasn't referring to this. He referred to the conclusion of human purpose–at least in his opinion–as when considering factors of vitality and wealth, the species never existed in a more prosperous period.

"It all depends on how you look at it," he mumbled, bare feet now entering the bathroom's cold tile, where he would begin another day no different from the last.

Thirty minutes later, with fifteen of those spent taking a longer shower than normal, Eric entered the kitchen, his bio-presence activating the coffee maker. As grounds started brewing, he worked the holo-display over the electric range, then put a pan over the glowing burners. He then opened the refrigerator, pulled two eggs, and after placing them next to the range, leaned back against the counter.

If Kim's cheating on me, it's probably because Till Death Do You Part becomes meaningless when death no longer applies.

About five years ago, life-extension moved off the science fiction pages and into reality, and five months ago, Kim started a regimen. This warranted reevaluation of her and Eric's relationship, along with everyone else's relationship, as sticking with the same person seemed odd when lifespans measured in centuries. And while he and Kim weren't married, he didn't want their relationship to end. But could she really spend the next few centuries with him, especially with his morose disposition...