Tomorrow’s Prologue is my 2017 entry to the X Prize science fiction contest, Seat 14C. The set-up is simple: a plane disappears during arrival to SFO and then reappears 20 years later. From the perspective of seat 14C, tell a story…

Tendrils of clouds reached up into the cold dark of the Aleutian night. My noise-canceling headphones turned the ubiquitous roar of the aircraft into a chronic background hiss, a tinnitus intruding on the still life of snowy islands nestled below us. I turned on my LED lamp and pulled the device from my carry-on bag, setting it on my side table. It was inadvertently beautiful; every edge and cone of the small machine, from the milled aluminum topped by circlets of palladium to the glowing organic band near its base, were designed for a specific purpose by my laboratory in Tokyo. If any consideration of aesthetics found their way into the design, it was Kinji-san ad-libbing on the functionality. It had a dual back there, too, one that shared a portion of entangled photons that had been separated from one another at birth. I connected a USB-C cable to my laptop and ran a brief diagnostic. It began to radiate cold. All systems were within operating specs, so I tried Shor’s algorithm, transferring the model for a thousand-digit factorization to the machine. A flight attendant noiselessly brushed past me, prepping for breakfast service. The initial run seemed to work so I pulled up the quantum consciousness simulator that I had been developing and gave it a go. I knew it was incomplete, but I had to debug it eventually.

There was a strange popping sensation and flash, not like ears under altitude change, but like the whole plane had shuddered for a brief moment.… Read the rest