This story was written for a challenge that required the use of the following four words to make a story: Great Zen Areas Year
The great white shark scans the depths. It’s in a Zen state as it pores over its domain. It isn’t looking for food though – it’s looking for the last of the humans who fled the continents when the atmosphere became saturated with sulfur. The only areas left on Earth that they can inhabit is a Goldilocks zone about a kilometre below the surface of the sea. This restricts them to the Southeast Asian Archipelago; the Eastern shelf of South America and the Caribbean Sea.
The people move around in tiny, spherical vessels that are designed to withstand the great pressure of the ocean above, and to provide just enough room to survive and – once every few years – to procreate.
The shark has flourished as a species since the humans appended them with bionic limbs and genetically modified brains. Now the great white surveys the seabed to find little the little spherical vessels that nestle themselves in the sand on the seafloor.
There’s one! It’s like a blue egg both in shape and in its defencelessness, and the pathetic occupants can do nothing but brace themselves for impact.
The shark charges ahead with its titanium nose poised to batter a hole in the fragile shell. The humans’ weapons ran out of ammunition ages ago. Their only defence is the weapon of hope. The occupants huddle together and say thanks for the lives they’ve lived, and the company they’ve kept. They thank the gods of today and the gods of yesteryear.
The shark is startled. A tectonic rumble shakes up the seafloor. It may be clever, but it’s still afraid of what it doesn’t understand. The shark turns around and cowers back to its den, leaving the humans to struggle on.