Dru Drieser waited for his assistant to place another contract in front of him. Today was a monumental day, the reins slackened at last with executive orders coming from on high. All those ridiculous red tape regulations snipped away. Finally, they could up their profit margins, no longer held to the high standards of careful waste management and environmental protection. So what if the regulations meant a couple more birdies and squirrels bit the dust, what did it matter in the long run compared to all the money there was to be made.

"If you could just sign this Mr. Drieser," droned his assistant. Vincent or Victor, some V name, honestly he didn't care as long as the man did what he was told. He scribbled his signature on the thick vellum before the words in front of him caught his attention.

I, hereby, allow present parties the privilege to educate me of the situation of the future/ present.

"Vlad, what the hell is this?" He looked up, shocked to find the young man flicking the side of a syringe filled with vibrant orange liquid, like anti-freeze. A prickle of unease tickled up his spine as his assistant stared down at him, eyes a distant emotionless void.

"It's Virgil, you pompous prick, and that contract is a necessary step to what must be done," he said.

Dru rose to his feet, a sharp retort on his tongue, when Virgil's arm snapped forward, plunging the needle into the side of his neck. The older man's voice died in his throat as a warm numbness flooded his veins. He had time to register his body going limp, still conscious as he sank to the floor. That kid was so fired.

Virgil wasted no time, grabbing Dru by the armpits and dragging him for the room. The horrifying realization sank in that he was still conscious, completely unable to so much as twitch a toe, as he assistant dragged him to the elevator unimpeded. Where the hell were the other staff? Why was no one stopping this lunatic? Oh yeah, no one else was here as Dru forced his assistant to come in on a Sunday.

Maybe he should have given him that raise last month. His unease and panic increased as the elevator came to a stop, opening onto the roof. Dru strained to speak, a shout, a whisper, anything to stop what was happening as Virgil unceremoniously dragged him to the edge of the roof and shoved him off.

Falling through empty air, Dru could barely register the rushing wind against his numb limbs. He saw the ground rushing up fast, but there was no time to brace for impact, no time for his life to even flash before his eyes when the world tilted sideways. His descent slowed, as if falling through sand. Sensation came back into his body with a sudden sharpness that had him screaming as his body hit the ground with a thud.

He lay panting on the grass. Grass?

There was nothing but pavement surrounding his office building. How the hell was he lying on grass? He must have hit harder than he thought. Every breath hurt, the air burning his lungs, but his head felt clear, clearer than he'd felt in forever. Dru blinked, slowly easing himself up.

"Ah, it lives," said a horribly familiar voice.

Dru's head jerked to the left, catching sight of his murderous assistant casually buffing his nails on his suit jacket. The older man found his mouth opening and closing like the river bass he caught on his monthly vacations. Finally he pointed at the young man. "You!" He snarled, and abruptly dissolved into violent coughs, clutching his chest.

Virgil's gaze was as dispassionate as before. "That's the high oxygen content at work, I'm afraid," he said, "Such clean air takes a bit of getting used to."

"What are you talking about?" Dru rasped, trying to rub the pinched sensation from his lungs. Though each breath did become easier to take him. "What the hell did you do to me?"

Virgil's smile held no humor. "Nothing you didn't give permission for, sir," he said, his tone full of mockery, "this is your wake up call, Mr. Drieser. Behold the future."

Dru scowled at his clearly insane assistant. "I don't know how you pulled off a stunt like. You are fired and you will be hearing from my law--"

A car zipped over head with a scent of heat and crackled of electricity. Dru's tirade died on his tongue as he looked up and up.

Green surrounded him, interwoven with sleek buildings and other structures, a bizarre interweaving of organic and inorganic. Trees rose fluidly through rooftops, grass rose high, moss and ivy covering nearly every available surface. Vehicles wove through the buildings with ease, barely emitting a sound, and despite the vast number he saw, there wasn't a hint of exhaust in the air. The sun warmed his face, not the same intense heat he was used to from direct sunlight, but a muted gentle warmth that sank peacefully into his skin.

Dru let out a long breath, trying to take it all in. What was he seeing? Every shift of his eyes brought something new to his attention. Little details snagging his attention with their oddity. Life teemed everywhere, small furry bodies darting in and out of trees, in and out of houses, vermin moving without fear amid the human population. People walked and talked, fearless of the vehicles whirring overhead, their clothes the same melding of organic and inorganic, in muted colors of green, browns, and natural fibers. They seemed to have no trouble breathing in the air, though neither did his 'assistant'. Everyone was laughing, engaging one another, greeting strangers on the street. The street, it kept snagging his attention again and again. It took Dru several long moments of silent observation before he noted the differences. No bums, no homeless people begging for spare change as they stewed in their own filth. No strays, every animal he saw darting through the field of his vision was healthy and well fed. No litter, not a speck of trash or refuse anywhere. Everything was clean, eerily clean.

"The future," he breathed, stunned into incomprehension.

"The future in thirty years, to be exact," said Virgil, "after humanity has given up the quest for profit, living in harmony with itself at last."

Dru turned to him at last, looking at the boy as if he grew two heads. Now the scam was laid bare. "You're joking right? You think I buy into this bullshit? Some hippie Star Trek future where we all get along? I know what you're doing. You injected me with acid or something right? This is one big freaking trip. Well, I'm not buying into your Ghost of Christmas Future bull," Dru spat as he crawled to his feet. He pointed a finger at his ex assistant, rage simmering in his veins. "I will have your ass in jail by Monday."

Virgil's jaw clenched. "Do you even care all those you signed will continue to destroy the world around you? That you leave nothing for future generations? Is wealth all you care to pursue, Mr. Drieser?"

Dru snorted. "You're kidding. You're one of those idiot climate alarmists, am I right? Listen kid, it's all a scam, concocted to scare people to listen to a bunch of eggheads--"

"You are such a fool," said Virgil, his voice full of quiet venom. He inhaled, trying to regain his calm facade. "It is clear there is no saving you Mr. Drieser, when you're head is so buried in the sand." There was a resonance to Virgil's voice as he mentioned the word sand, as if it had an importance Dru didn't understand. He sneered, pushing the thought aside as he stalked to the younger man. Virgil waited until he was only a couple steps away before he slapped a hand against solid air.

The outline of a door appeared out of nowhere, a rectangle of sky sliding sideways to reveal...

Dru's eyes widened as hellish heat brushed his face. "What the--"

His ex assistant grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, hauling him close. "Have a taste of your world," he hissed, and threw Dru through the open portal.

He landed in burning sand, so hot it scorched his skin. Dru yelped, immediately regretting it as choking acidic air filled his lungs, eating him alive from the inside out. Trembling from pain and shock, he looked up at the world around him. The sky was a putrid brackish brown, illuminating the burning sand like an overcooked crust.

The sand was endless, a dead sea, dotted with crumbling bleached bones and skeletal petrified trees. Far in the distance, his eyes stinging from the toxic air and flying grit, Dru glimpsed the decaying remains of a city, broken buildings rising like rotting teeth against the horizon.

"What is left of most of the world," said Virgil's voice, thin and strained behind him. The effort to turn and face his former assistant was monumental. Dru could feel the poison in his body, eating him alive. The sun was an angry red orb in the sky, glaring down at him, judging him. He turned at last, looking through the green doorway, half filled with Virgil's suit clad form. The young man stared out at the scorched world, tears in his eyes. Dru looked up, past him, seeing the shape at last, the vast dome that contained a piece of life in a dead world.

A dead world...

He helped make this world.

A tear slipped down his face, hot and stinging like acid as it trailed down his cheek.

Virgil met his gaze. "This is what you chose." The young man stepped back as the doorway slid closed, stranding Dru in the sand.

"No," he choked, crawling forward. The sand tore into his skin, baking his blood. The acidic air crisped the flesh of his lungs. He collapsed, feeling his pulse strain, weak and fluttering as the sun beat down on him without mercy....

"Sir? Are you going to sign the contract sir?"

Dru blinked. He was back at his desk, pen hovering over the thick vellum. He took a shuddering breath, feeling an ache of fading pain in his lungs. A trickle of sweat slid down the back of his neck, pooling at the small of his back. He could feel the scorching heat of that blackened endless desert. Dru swallowed, daring himself to look up at his assistant.

A completely different young man stood before him, no sight of Virgil anywhere. This young man looked just as annoyed though, no doubt angry to be pulled from home on a Sunday as his asshole of a boss signed more orders to ...

Dru swallowed again, setting the pen down with a strangely hollow clack. "Why don't you go home..." He hesitated, realizing he had no idea what the young man's name was.

"It's Ralph, sir," said his assistant with a resigned voice. "Ralph Stevens."

Dru clenched his jaw, his palms tingling where the sand burned him only moments before. "Go home Ralph. Enjoy your day." This time, his assistant looked at him as if he sprouted two heads.

"Yes, sir," the young man mumbled as he left.

Dru looked down at the pile of contracts in front of him, half of them already bearing his signature. His cell phone rang. He answered it without thinking, his voice distant. "Hello."

"Dad! Don't tell me you're at the office on a beautiful day like today," his daughter's voice teased on the other line.

He relaxed. He must have hallucinated the whole damn thing, overtired from working too much. Maybe another fishing trip was in order after he finished his paperwork. "What's up, honey? Wasn't expecting to hear from you today."

"Well, I thought about waiting until we saw you for our end of the month brunch, but I am too damn excited," she said, a squeal in her voice. "Jason and I are having a baby!"

Elated surprise chased away the horrible fog of his vision as Dru sat up a little straighter in his seat. "That is wonderful news! When are you due?"

"Well, we waited until the second trimester, to make sure everything was okay, but I'm due just before Christmas."

He smiled at her clear excitement. "Christmas, not too far away. Know what you're having?"

"It's a boy," she squealed. "We were talking names. I know it sounds a little archaic, but I am really set on Virgil."

A chill ran down his spine. "That's great honey," he choked out. "Listen I need to finish up something, but I want to hear all about it later. Congratulations honey."

His hands were shaking as he set his cell down. It was freaky coincidence. None of that vision was real.

Virgil stared down at him with tears in his eyes. He recalled the young man's face perfectly now, in every exact detail. Including the color of the young man's eyes, a shade of blue so similar to his own, to his daughters.

Thirty years in the future to be exact.

Dru turned on the shredder beneath his desk and fed the contracts into them one at a time. It was not enough, but it was a start.