| Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash |
The conversation was over with the kids. Isavet was excited to learn.
She wanted to see the big diamond wall that separated her tiny corner of
Castlebourne from everyone else. It’s not, strictly speaking, forbidden, but
it’s frowned upon since it breaks the immersion. It’s also kind of
impossible to get to. Not really, but sort of. You can only reach it by
water, but the walls curve down like a soup bowl. So yes, there is some kind
of metamaterial or concrete that you can touch, but the sides are so sloped
and slippery that you can’t get out and walk around. The environmental
hologram, meanwhile, makes it look like there’s miles and miles of more
water and land, even though you’re probably less than two meters from the
projection. Still, he would be open to taking her if she really wants to,
but only when she’s older. Every time they talk about the outside world, it
takes Ronan out of it, and undermines the purpose of the simulation.
Talus couldn’t care less. Giant dome, whole planet; it didn’t matter to him.
He didn’t ask questions or widen his eyes at the bombshells. Ronan is
seriously considering taking him to get him evaluated by a medical and
mental health professional. They would let Ronan back in after an emergency,
but if something really is wrong with Talus, then he wouldn’t be able
to return to the network, and if that happened, effectively neither could
Ronan. Nothing has been decided yet; there’s still plenty of time to weigh
their options. Right now, he has to get to the bottom of this flex display
situation. Gia has been lying this whole time. “Why?”
“I did it for Isa,” Gia began to explain. “What we just did in there is
precisely what I knew I would have to do one day. I never thought I would
lose my first partner, and I never thought I would meet someone like you,
but this was always the plan. Your plan didn’t exist. You were pretty
convinced that Talus was the same as he was before, and would eventually
remember everything. When you told me stories of your exploits in the real
world, you framed them as things that you might be able to revisit some day,
either physically, or nostalgically through reminiscing. You never
considered the possibility that you would have to teach someone about domes
and simulations. Imagine going back in time to the better part of two
millennia ago. Explain any of this to any adult you meet in that period. It
simply can’t be done. This was the best time to do it. They’re old enough to
have real conversations, but young enough that their brains are still
plastic. But they’re still human, and they needed a visual aid. The only
other option was calling an elevator, or reaching an emergency exit. Would
you rather I have done that instead?”
“No, of course not. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“The display was a necessary evil. And it’s done,” Gia decides. “That’s why
I chose this variant, because it will burn up in a fire just fine. See?
Watch me.” She pulls it out of her pocket, unrolls it, and hangs it over the
flames of the firepit. “I’m just waiting in case you change your mind, but
if not, you have three, two, one.” She throws it in. It sizzles and steams
as the protective outer layer evaporates from the core. It’s designed to
give users a few extra seconds to save it from an accidental drop, or if
they changed their minds. Because once it’s gone, it burns up quick; even
faster than real paper.
A few months later, they find themselves regretting letting it go when they
discover that Gia is heavy with child. Vith, Talus, and Isavet are going to
have a little brother or sister to play with. They sit them down for another
conversation, and tell them the good news, but Talus is not happy.
No comments :
Post a Comment