Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Microstory 2612: In a Panic, the Ants Will Scramble For Their Salvation, Even Where it Can’t Be Found

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
August 20, 2526. The crowd stands before the monitors as they watch the breaking news feed. They were pushing each other around, trying to get into the train, but that has all stopped now. The handful of people who were already let through are watching the news too. “Tragedy struck at the train station underneath Summerspring Dome sixteen minutes ago. A domaquake shook the platform and caused several support beams to collapse. The vacuum tube was weakened, and ultimately imploded due to the stress. A current count of 815 people were killed in the implosion. Experts are currently working on ways to mitigate the damages that these seismic events have on our infrastructure. One new procedure they will be implementing is single-pod travel. No longer will pods be linked together. They are mapping the quake patterns, and determining optimal safe launch windows so this never happens again. Furthermore, polar leadership recognizes the magnitude of the crisis, and is preparing to receive evacuees, but stresses that resources are low. If you live between the 40th parallels, on either side of the equator, you are urged to evacuate to the higher regions of the Terminator Line. If you are northward of the 40th parallel in the northern hemisphere, or southward in the southern hemisphere, you are being asked to shelter in place for now so that your friends and neighbors in the more volatile regions can make use of the vactrain tubes.
“Some trains are being sent to the poles, while others will be stopping along the way. You are asked to accommodate any evacuees, providing them with food and shelter while we work towards more permanent solutions to this extreme adversity. Experts and leaders would like to remind you that what happened in Summerspring Dome is a tragic but rare event, and assures the public that the vast majority of the vactrain network is safe for travel. To quote the Administrative Council of the southern pole’s official statement: ‘The equatorial regions are quickly becoming uninhabitable, and the southern pole is extending a helping hand towards all displaced communities. Please remember that we are all Proxima Domanians, and a respectful and orderly evacuation is paramount for the safety and survival of us all.’ Comforting words from someone already living in the safe zone, who didn’t have to watch their loved ones die, and their homes get swallowed up by the crust.” He looks off camera, presumably at an angry producer, and clears his throat.
The anchor sits there for a moment in silence, staring into the lens. “Get out. Get out now. Every dome comes equipped with massive land vehicles. If you can’t get in a train, go! Just go! Even if you live in the middle regions, save yourse—” The feed cuts off.
The crowd stands there silently as the images return to the basic weather information for their own dome. The whispers grow louder and louder, threatening to turn this relatively peaceful crowd into a clamoring mob. The Regent is here to coordinate the evacuations. As this area of the planet is not too terribly dangerous right now, the process has gone okay. “Now, hold on!” he cries to quiet everyone down. “There are plenty of vacuum tubes to get everyone out. We will not leave you here. But we will be slowing down the process to make way for the equatorials.”
“You saw what happened!” a rabble rouser shouts. “These tubes aren’t safe anymore!”
“No, they are safe,” the Regent insists. “We have not been experiencing what the others have been. I promise you, they will hold.”
“The tubes are all connected!” another person argues. “If you damage one closer to the equator, it can have an impact on it all the way out here!”
“That’s not how it works,” the Regent contends. “We will be taking the trains. It’s the only way. There aren’t enough land vehicles for everyone, that is not an option.”
“Did you hear that, everyone? There aren’t enough vehicles! We better go now before someone else gets them!” That’s it, that’s all it takes. The swarm of evacuees turn and rush out in the opposite direction. The people who managed to get on the train fall in line behind them. They all run up the stairs, and out of the station. The Regent tries to calm them down, and bring them back, but his voice is drowned out by the heavy footsteps, and is also just ignored. He doesn’t need the stairs. He simply steps backwards, and enters the executive elevator, which he takes back up to the surface.
They are in the main station now. None of the sprinters is explaining why it is they’re running, but it looks scary, so everyone up there just starts running alongside them on instinct. The Regent shakes his head. These people have no clue where they’re going. Those land vehicles were made for specific purposes. You don’t just hop in one, and take a trip because you feel like traversing the treacherous terrain outside the dome. He doesn’t understand exactly where they think they’re headed. He continues to rise in the transparent elevator, up to the roof of the station. He watches them rush out of the building, towards the perimeter, which is a couple of kilometers away from here.
His pilot is walking towards the elevator platform, wiping the grease off of her hands as she watches the army of panicking ants as well. “You’re early, sir.”
“Is it ready to go?” he asks, still watching the people who he was supposed to represent desperately trying to figure out where these fabled cars are.
“Yeah, she’s prepped and ready. Your family’s inside.”
“Then we’re leaving now.”
She shakes her head. “My guy’s not in place to open the airlock.”
“Punch through it.”
“Sir, I’m not gonna do that. The toxic air will kill anyone who isn’t killed by the razor rain.”
The Regent takes out his gun and points it at her head. “Punch...through it.”
“Fine, fine,” the pilot agrees. “My co-pilot isn’t here yet either, though, so I’m gonna need someone sitting next to me to flip a few switches.”
“I can do that, just get us the hell out of here.” They walk over to the VTOL rocket and climb inside, passing his wife and kids on the way to the cockpit. His children smile at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation, but he doesn’t smile back.
“Shut that hatch behind us, and press the button in the top corner.”
“It says SOUND DAMPENER,” he points out, not sure why they would need that.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” she confirms. “Then sit right there and look for a yellow lever sandwiched between the seat and the hull.”
He pushes it, then sits down and fumbles around for the lever. “I don’t see it.”
While he’s turned away, the pilot shoots him in the head. “I’m not...punching through the dome.” She proceeds to sit there quietly for another few hours until her people are in place for a safe and ethical launch.

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