Science fiction is not and never has been about the future (its predictive value is crappy). It is about the present, with the pretense of distance (and some of it’s not to distant at that).
He peeks into doorways, and maybe steps in for a bit, jumping from one room to the next for ragged scraps of time. || Jack’s story, told in metaphor. No spoilers, but you have to have at least seen KKBB or it won’t make sense.