Cuba 2099

An ecotopian short story and far-future vision of life after the climate catastrophe — with a macabre twist.

The following short story is a vision of earth at the end of this century; life after warming and beyond industrial civilization.

Welcome to Cuba. The year is 2099.

Photo by Harrison Haines

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“Come on,” said Rosa, her long black hair blowing in the warm breeze, glittering in the rising sun. With fluid grace, she maneuvered her bicycle.

Ernesto's uncertain grin wavered. “Where exactly are we going?”

“It's a surprise,” Rosa replied, her voice tinged with mischief. “Don't tell me you’re scared of a little mystery?”

He sighed, recalling his recent resolution to challenge his anxiety, a topic he’d discussed at length with Dr. Vargas. “I suppose not,” Ernesto conceded. “Yeah, why not?”

“That’s the spirit!” Rosa’s enthusiasm was infectious.

Ernesto pressed his watch against the dispenser’s screen, unlocking a bicycle. “It’s… just been a while since I —”

“You'll be fine,” Rosa interjected, her smile warm and reassuring. “Trust me.”

They set off down the side street, soon merging onto the main avenue — a serpentine artery pulsing through the heart of New Havana. The cityscape bustled with life: pedestrians strolled purposefully or lounged by ornate fountains, while children’s laughter punctuated the air, their games an eternal enigma to the adult mind.

Ernesto glanced at the passing palm trees and overgrown buildings, wondering what it was that Rosa had to show him. He’d met her just a couple of weeks ago at a community meeting, and she’d struck him as a strong, mysterious type of person. He’d fallen for her right then.

Rosa glanced back, flashing a sly smile that set Ernesto’s heart aflutter. She increased her pace, and Ernesto followed suit. They zipped down the bike lane, weaving through slower cyclists as Ernesto muttered hasty apologies.

An hour of steady riding brought them to the city’s outer walls. A prominent sign declared: ‘La Habana Wildlife Protection Area. Access Only With Permit!’

Dismounting, Ernesto wiped away beads of sweat, feeling somewhat awkward. “What now?”

Rosa’s smile widened. “Ernesto, dear, I’m a woman of many talents. Don't forget that.” She held her watch to the scanner as Ernesto looked on dubiously. Seconds ticked by.

“What are you —”

The scanner blinked green, and the massive gate slid open with surprising fluidity. Nearby pedestrians turned, curiosity piqued by the rare sight of authorized entry into the protected zone that encompassed nearly the entire island beyond New Havana.

Ernesto gaped at Rosa. “You have clearance? But... how? I thought only scientists were granted access, and even for them, it’s difficult. I once knew someone who tried to climb the wall and —”

Rosa closed the distance between them. Ernesto shuffled nervously as her deep brown eyes locked with his. The scent of coconut wafted from her hair as she gently pressed a finger to his lips.

“Hush, Ernesto.”

Her lips met his in a passionate kiss. Ernesto’s hands found her hips as hers rested on his shoulders. He wished the moment could last forever, but Rosa eventually pulled away, biting her lower lip teasingly.

“Patience, Ernesto. Remember, I have something to show you.” She gestured to his pack. “You brought enough water, right?”

“Uh... yeah,” he stammered, his mind still reeling.

“Good. Shall we?”

***

They cycled across untamed plains and through dense, overgrown forests, the Gulf of Mexico shimmering in the distance to their left. The day grew stiflingly humid, and the sweet fragrance of wildflowers mingled with the salty sea air, nearly overwhelming Ernesto’s senses. His last venture into this wilderness had been on a school trip many years ago.

“We're almost there,” Rosa called out as they ascended a hill, Ernesto close behind. The inexhaustible supply of the sun, channeled through solar panels that could last forever, propelled them forward, the tires biting into the ground, friction and resistance overcome by sheer force.

At the summit, Rosa halted and turned to him. “Do you see it, Ernesto?”

Ernesto squinted against the glare, scanning the plain below. At first, nothing stood out — just a serene lake bordered by lush forests, interspersed with glades and clearings. Then, his eyes locked onto an anomaly: amid the wilderness stood the decaying remnants of metal and concrete, partially reclaimed by nature but still discernible. A relic from a bygone era, likely predating the Great Heat.

“Incredible!” Ernesto exclaimed. “How old is that… whatever it is?”

“I can't say for certain,” Rosa replied. "But it’s definitely from before the Heat. I stumbled upon it a few weeks ago while studying the lake’s ecosystems. As far as I know, no one else has visited in decades.”

Ernesto turned to her, realization dawning. “So, you are a scientist?”

“A biologist, yeah.”

“I had no idea.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ernesto.”

He pondered this truth as he gazed at the ruin. “What was its purpose? Before, I mean.”

“A gas station, Ernesto.”

“Gas station?”

“Indeed.” She moved closer, inhaling his scent and resting her head on his shoulder. “Shall we investigate?”

“I... I suppose,” Ernesto hesitated. “But is it safe?”

“Oh, Ernesto,” Rosa chuckled, that enigmatic smile playing on her lips once more. “I’ll protect you.” With that, she mounted her bike and sped down the steep incline, leaving a trail of dust in her wake. Ernesto scrambled after her, afraid of losing sight of his guide.

They soon arrived at the derelict gas station. Its once-vibrant red and white hues had faded to ghostly pastels, and the metal roof bore the scars of rust and time’s relentless march. Vines and creepers had claimed significant portions of the structure, intertwining with the cracked concrete walls. The fuel pumps stood like silent sentinels, their nozzles long bereft of gasoline. No trace of petroleum lingered in the air; instead, the sweet aroma of surrounding wildlife permeated the scene. Birdsong echoed in the distance. It was oddly beautiful.

Ernesto dismounted, a mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through him. He surveyed the eerily calm atmosphere that enveloped the place as if time itself had been suspended here while the world moved on.

Rosa joined him, her eyes alight with wonder, her face flushed and animated. “Fascinating, isn’t it?” she mused, her voice colored by reverence. “This place once teemed with activity — people coming and going, refueling their vehicles, making purchases.”

“It’s remarkable,” Ernesto agreed, examining one of the nozzles. The metal felt cold and rough with rust beneath his fingers. “But why did you bring me here, specifically?”

Rosa took his hands in hers, and he noticed a slight tremor in her voice. “Ernesto... you’re good with computers, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so,” he replied cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

There was a quiver in her voice. “You have to help me with something, Ernesto. I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course, Rosa. What is it?”

“Come,” she said, leading the way. “I’ll show you.”

They entered the building, locating a faded sign that read “Office.” The door groaned in protest as Rosa pushed it open, revealing a small room with dust-covered shelves, a desk strewn with scattered papers, and, surprisingly, a computer terminal with a flickering screen.

Ernesto’s eyes widened in astonishment. “A working computer! How is this possible?”

“I was as surprised as you are,” Rosa said. She pressed a key, and a distinct click emanated from below. Ernesto watched in amazement as Rosa knelt, inserted her fingers into a hidden indentation, and lifted a concealed trapdoor.

“What in the —”

But Rosa was already descending the revealed ladder. “Please, Ernesto. You have to see it. You’re the only one I trust with this.”

Swallowing hard, Ernesto nodded and followed Rosa down the ladder. The tunnel was brightly lit by small fluorescent bulbs lining the walls — powered for who knows how long — while the air hung heavy with the acrid scent of warm metal, plastic, and electronics. Ernesto’s breath quickened as claustrophobia threatened to overwhelm him, the confined space seeming to press in from all sides. He focused on thoughts of the open landscape above and the fresh island air to calm his nerves.

The ladder eventually came to an abrupt end. Ernesto stepped off, his jaw dropping as he took in the sight before him. They stood in a vast underground chamber of concrete and steel. Bright screens and red neon illuminated the space, accompanied by the constant hum of what Ernesto recognized as servers.

At the center of the hall stood two rows of cylindrical pods, each with a transparent front panel revealing… a figure within. Ernesto’s breath caught in his throat as realization dawned. These were people — their faces blank, frozen in time, preserved as if awaiting some distant future. Each pod held a small display panel showing vital signs, confirming that these individuals were indeed alive, albeit in a state of suspended animation, perpetually teetering on the brink of death.

“Rosa?” Ernesto whispered, unable to tear his gaze from the surreal sight. “W-What is this place?”

“It’s a cryogenic preservation facility,” she explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “These are rich people, Ernesto. People who chose to freeze themselves before the Heat laid waste to civilization. They hoped to awaken in a better world.”

“How do you know all this?”

Rosa gestured toward a computer terminal. “It’s all documented there, Ernesto. But I can’t access the command screen. That’s why I need you.”

“Command screen? What are you talking about?”

“See for yourself.”

Ernesto approached the computer terminal, studying the unfamiliar interface. It was simultaneously ancient and remarkably advanced. Drawing upon his knowledge of obsolete systems, he began inputting long-forgotten commands.

“This is incredible,” he murmured after several minutes, his voice quavering with a mix of awe and fear. “Twenty individuals, all from the year 2031.”

Rosa nodded. “Yes, and there are protocols to wake them up when certain conditions are met — conditions like the world being habitable again.”

Ernesto continued typing, navigating through various screens as his mind struggled to process the information. Suddenly, he paused. “But the protocols have failed,” he said, his hands trembling. “They lost connection to the satellite network decades ago. These people will remain in stasis indefinitely… or until the power supply fails.”

“I suspected as much,” Rosa replied. “But look, there’s a command screen for manual revival. It’s protected, though. Can you bypass the security?”

Ernesto scrutinized the screen, immediately identifying a workaround. It wasn’t truly protected, merely glitching; anyone who had made it this far was presumably authorized. The real failure had occurred in the gas station computer above. Far more time had passed than these frozen individuals had anticipated.

“Rosa,” he said, his voice a whisper. “I can access it.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I knew I could rely on you. Do it!”

He stared at the screen, noting options to initiate wake-up procedures. However, another command caught his eye: ‘Initiate termination,’ followed by a warning: ‘Use only in case of critical failure!’

“Rosa...” he stammered. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

She fixed him with a penetrating gaze that seemed to pierce his very soul. He’d never seen such intensity in her eyes before. “I think you know the answer to that, Ernesto.”

He wiped perspiration from his brow, his hand shaking. “Y-You can’t seriously be considering killing them, Rosa. We would be murderers.”

Her voice rose, cracking with barely contained fury. “They should have died ages ago!” she cried. “They’re responsible for the deaths of countless others, Ernesto! It took a miracle for the Earth to recover; billions died! Not to mention the countless species of animals and plants lost forever!”

She took a deep breath, visibly calming herself as she regarded the frozen figures with undisguised contempt. “We may never know the full extent of what was lost, Ernesto, but we do know that humanity barely survived.”

“I understand all that, Rosa.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I-I…”

“Just unlock the screen and walk away. I’ll handle the rest. No one will ever know. We can’t let them live again.”

Ernesto hesitated, his chest tight with anxiety as panic threatened to overwhelm him.

Rosa embraced him gently, her voice a soothing whisper. “Look at them, Ernesto. Look!”

He gazed at the expressionless faces, their skins pale and fragile. They appeared peaceful, reminiscent of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs, preserved to endure the ages.

“They are already dead.”

I’m curious:

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