Circa Tempore: the Artificial Organic
Copyright© 2026 by E. B. Redfield
Prologue
December 9th, 2025
The skies over northern Minnesota had just turned a deep blend of purple and red as the sun sank out of view. The thickest blanket of snow the state had seen in two years had only just been plowed off the roads, and already they bustled with excessive traffic like a blocked drain suddenly unclogging. With the road still coated in random sheets black ice and drifts; it was a dangerous time to be driving, and even more dangerous to be a white tail deer such as the one which had just bounded out of the woods and into the road ditch off Veteran’s Evergreen Memorial Drive.
There are around thirteen hundred deer related car crashes every year in the state, most of which happen in the winter. Over one hundred fifty thousand deer are hunted annually. This deer was lucky. He had already survived dozens of road crossings this year, as well as two hunting seasons. Thanks to his many successes in life, he had developed a certain overconfidence within the multitude of his near-death experiences. He was not afraid of the road, and his guard was lowered even more-so than usual thanks to the last few days of little to no traffic.
Not that he was completely without caution. As he approached the road, his eyes darted between the heavy traffic. Eyeing it cautiously, he waited for his moment. An eighteen-wheeler blasted by, faster than it should have been travelling, and the deer jumped back into the ditch in alarm. As his heartrate returned to resting, he traipsed back up to the ditch. The traffic that had spotted him slowed, and he sensed his opportunity.
He raced across the road; but as he bounded the median into the opposite traffic, he landed on a patch of ice and splayed out. The traffic closing in wouldn’t be able to respond in time. Scrambling to find his footing, he managed to get one hoof to connect on solid asphalt and launched himself across the rest of the road, narrowly avoiding a red minivan. The screams of its passengers were barely audible for the moment that it was level with him.
Safely in the other ditch, he bolted into the thick woods of the state park. His den lay just ahead and he was ready to rest. The cacophony of tires and horns drowning out behind him, his body relaxed. His breathing was still ragged and his senses were on high alert, but for now he felt safe.
His ears perked up and he whipped his head to the left; alerted by an unnatural sound, something not of the forest. Something he had never heard before. He faced the direction of the noise and tensed his sore muscles, ready to burst into a run at a moment’s notice; which was all he was given.
With a blinding flash and a clap like thunder, a vehicle materialized before the deer. Though its appearance had been instantaneous, it carried a heavy momentum and hurtled forward like a charging rhinoceros. Bleating wildly, the deer bounded just in time and was barely clipped on its hind leg as the vehicle passed. Bruised and lame, the deer hobbled away as quickly as possible; its overconfidence forever replaced with a paranoia that would keep it alive for three more winters.
The vehicle was so large that were it on the highway, it would be spilling halfway into the opposing lane. Connecting with multiple trees, it flipped on its side and began rolling through them. Snow, clods of earth, splinters, limbs, and roots erupted through the air with every rotation. Eventually the trees finally brought an end to the carnage, leaving a trail of upended foliage and devastation nearly twenty yards long. Silence fell across the carved-out clearing, punctuated only by the groaning of the vehicle as it settled. Any life that had been here was either crushed under the wreckage or had fled in terror.
For a moment, the vehicle precariously rested against the fortunate trees sturdy enough to halt its progress. Despite the chaos of its arrival, the damage inflicted to the vehicle itself seemed minimal. There was hardly a dent or a scratch in its exterior, and the most visible damage appeared to be in the form of stress lines in its pearly surface that branched out like spiders’ webs from the small dents, making it look like marble.
With a soft purr not fitting its size, the engine came back to life and the vehicle righted itself. Chunks of dirt dropped to the ground as it levitated nearly two meters and hovered to a more open spot in the clearing. Once satisfied with its position atop some felled trees; it set itself back down in a way so delicate and graceful, you would almost forget it had just leveled an entire patch of the forest.
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