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SUMMARY: Nathan attends a conference... CODES: SQ RATING: PG13 DISCLAIMER: Amblin's characters, my story. NOTES: none
"F is for Futurists" Brussels, 2002 "So what exactly is a 'futurist' anyway?" William Noyce asked. Across the table, Nathan Bridger circled a name on the paper before him. "It's someone who's more interest in the future than the past." He looked up at his friend. "Kind of the opposite of you." Noyce rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his cereal. "Very funny. What's that?" he motioned toward the paper. "Schedule for the conference," Nathan replied, taking a sip of coffee. "There is other stuff going on this weekend besides our little speech." "I still think you're crazy trying to get that damn boat built. No one's gonna pop for something that big. Besides, most everyone is focused more on space in the future anyway. Life under the oceans is on the decline -- we're in the wrong business, Nathan." "The oceans are the last unexplored region on Earth. Don't you think we should know everything there is to know about this planet before we start exploring and colonizing another? Every good scientist knows you need a control for an experiment to be considered valid, after all." "Who is...Guy...Pesh-ee?" Noyce asked, murdering the French name as he studied the list of other presenters that he'd swiped from his friend. It was time for a subject change. "Guy Peche?" Nathan corrected. "He's a genetic physicist." He shrugged. "Carol says he's got some interesting theories. Can't hurt to at least give a listen." "Uh huh," Noyce nodded skeptically. "That's what you said about that poetry class at the Academy and you remember how that turned out." "I've already apologized for that one more than enough." He pushed his chair back from the table. "Come on, let's go. The future's waiting, after all." The End
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