Rewritten Part 3

Mark Sagittarius never wanted to a Pendragon, didn't want to rewrite the Code, didn't want to defy the software program that somehow dictated the universe from a giant metal sattelite. It was 5012 AD, and Earth had been turned into a giant farm, most humans lived on Mars or space bases. The few that did live on Earth were all VIP's like Mark's father, Jacob Sagittarius, who was an ArcBall player.
ArcBall.
One of the last forms of entertainment for humans. Now it was mainly work, work, work. It was boring, but it was safe. One more accident... it could be the end of humanity. The last time one happened, trillions were killed.
A virus, Xsparta, was unknowingly released into one of the six "chambers" of the Code. Needless to say, the effects were terrifying.
ArcBall.
A high speed cross between fencing and basketball. Zero G Speeders, Force ArcSpheres, and NRG Sabers. Two teams tried to score into one of their opponent's three goals.
It was noisy.
It was dangerous.
It made life worthwhile.
It also made you a victim of tabloids and gossip. That was the one reason Mark didn't follow in his father's footsteps. Nor his mother's for that matter. She was a ballet dancer. Do you need anymore explaining?
No.
Mark wanted to be a soldier: defending humanity, guarding the *President, all that jazz. He had already enrolled into a military school space base.
He was a pretty good soldier.
Now he was coming home after a long day of training.
The guy at the exit of the Particle Express, a machine designed to break up human life forms into atoms and launch them across space and time, offered Mark a revival pill; Partical Express travel nauseated most people. Mark didn't need one. After being in the military for so long, he was much stronger than most people. He waved his hand, No.
The guy shook his head, "Taking them pills is nodda choice, Kiddo. Ya gotta take it. 'Less ya wanna argue with the government."
Mark winced at the slang. Soldiers were tough but still educated.
"Fine. Fine."
He accepted two pills and swallowed them both whole. No water. No nothing. Another part of being a soldier.

Minutes later he was roaring down the SkyRailroad to his father's "shack"; truth be told, it was more like a "mansion".
That's when Mark's world shattered.


*In 5012 AD, the President of humanity was merely a very good speaker and public image. Their actual role in the government was diminutive. The people who really ran the show was a group of intellegent men and women called "The Hands".





Thanks for reading Rewritten Part 3!