Showing posts with label android. Show all posts
Showing posts with label android. Show all posts

Sunday, May 17, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 8, 2552

Generated by Google Vids text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1, and by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software
Before calling anyone else about the creep, the twins walked back around the portal building, which they had named The Gatehouse. Angela wanted to call it The Iris, but Marie said that they weren’t allowed to. They stress-tested the structure, and found themselves unable to get in, which suggested that Bronach Oaksent would not be able to get out. They certainly didn’t design it to be that easy. But they had only just now built it, so they were paranoid that it wasn’t enough. Who knows what tricks this guy had up his giant sleeve? They returned to the doors where he was waiting to be let out, and urged him to go back where he came from. He didn’t leave, and he didn’t speak. He didn’t lift his hood either, so they weren’t even able to confirm that it was him. For all they knew, it could have been a troublemaking teen just playing a prank.
Once it looked like their opinions weren’t being respected, they relented, and called in everyone else. The Matics were not happy to be interrupted from what they were doing, but they understood the seriousness. Ramses was fortunately at a stopping point in his work, where the trillions of simulations he was running needed time to iterate and resolve. “I’ll handle this,” he said. He took the forge core back from Angela, and started working on something new, claiming that it would be complete by the time they returned to the timestream. He was right. When they came back a year later, it was impossible to even get close.
It was now surrounded by the largest pyramid they had ever seen. Ramses said that the perimeter was 20 kilometers in total length. He would have built it bigger than that, but that was all the space he had to work with outside of the capital dome. There was actually an entrance that went from the dome, into the pyramid. From there, a maze leading to the portal would make it virtually impossible to find your way through. Even if Bronach returned to where he came from, and flew back through the portal with a stealth bomber, he should not have been able to escape. He kind of went overboard with this one, but admitted to feeling bad for not addressing the issue before. Leona wanted to point out that it was Echo who made the portal in the first place, with no apparent way to shut it off, but that would have been insensitive of him.
“Is he still there?” Leona asked over Angela’s shoulder as Angela was studying the Gatehouse’s feed.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Well, his robes are anyway.” She cast the video to the big screen, and stepped through days and days of footage. “See? He doesn’t move. He’s literally frozen. I’m thinking he teleported out, and teleported a mannequin in to take his place.”
“I though you had the suppression field up.”
“Oh, that doesn’t just prevent people from getting in or out?” Angela asked.
“It should stop it altogether.”
“Oh, then I don’t know,” Angela said. He’s, uhh...a robot? I saw that in a show once. An evil android went too far back in time, so he made himself a little money, bought some infrastructure, then sealed himself up, and just went dormant for decades.”
“That’s absolutely not impossible.” Leona looked back at the screen for a few seconds. It made her shiver. “Ack, that’s so creepy. Turn it off, turn it off.”
Angela exited out, letting it revert to a wide shot of the pyramid from the outside. “I know this was all automated, but it still took a lot of energy for just one little person.”
“It’s not a waste. It’s good to have a pyramid anyway. It helps facilitate interstellar and intergalactic travel.”
“I’ve heard that,” Angela said, nodding. “I don’t understand why, or why it seems like we’ve never worried about it. Most people can’t jump that far anyway. Is it just for people like Maqsud and Aristotle Al-Amin?”
“The way I understand it, it’s specifically not for them. They were born with the ability to cross those distances on their own. There are a lot of things going on that we don’t hear about, from both salmon and choosing ones. They need to cover those distances too, for various reasons. I don’t think that pyramids hold special power. I think it’s more about the size.”
“Also the shape,” Ramses added, having returned at some point from his work on the moon. “It could be a cone instead, but those are harder to engineer, and I personally prefer the former, though I am Egyptian. It’s about funneling temporal energy from a large area to a fine point. But you’re right, the pyramid-builders in ancient days didn’t do anything special to the interior. Energy just concentrates well from this basic shape.”
“Right,” Angela said. She twisted her shoulders back and forth a couple of times between Leona and Ramses. “Am I the only one seeing an issue here?”
“What do you mean?” Ramses questioned.
“We built a megastructure to prevent someone from coming here from far away without our permission. And this new structure is particularly well-suited for helping people come from far away without our permission.”
“Don’t say that,” Leona urged, “because if you say that, something’s gonna happen, and we’re not gonna like it.”
Fearfully, all three looked back up at the live feed. Leona was seemingly correct. A beam of fiery blue light landed right on the tip of the pyramid, releasing a pressurized vhwm, loud enough to be heard by the far camera, but not from inside the dome.
“Everyone report to main control immediately,” Leona ordered into comms.
They all appeared nearly instantaneously, except for Romana.
“Romy!” Leona cried. “Romana, where are you!”
Mateo checked the locator. “She’s in the pool. She likes to float around in there when she’s meditating.”
“I guess that’s okay, as long as she’s not near the portal pyramid,” Leona decided. “We have an intruder. I don’t know who it is. Marie, you’re with me. Ramses, secure virtual systems. Angela, be an extra set of hands if he needs it. Mateo.... Mateo?”
“It looks like he’s at the pool now,” Olimpia notified her.
Mateo reappeared, wet from the waist down, carrying his daughter in his arms. She was breathing, but not opening her eyes, or stirring. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
“I do,” Marie admitted. “She’s in VR. She’s been living a second life.”
“Ram...” Leona began, “deal with that too. Marie, we gotta go.”
They took each other’s hands, and teleported to the benbenet, where they found Bronach Oaksent, as well as some unknown person, who was wearing too much clothing and goggles to recognize. That second guy had some kind of apparatus attached to the balcony floor, and was doing something with a tablet.
“Whoa, hold on, ladies,” Bronach said, holding up his hands defensively. “We’re not here to hurt you. There’s a peace treaty, remember?”
“I remember we can’t trust you. How did you get out?” Leona demanded to know.
“I didn’t,” he answered. “I didn’t have to, because I was never in there.”
The other guy pushed his goggles to his forehead, and looked up. It too was Bronach, but the old version of him, who Mateo rescued from the afterlife simulation. The two of them had a weird relationship since they could both lay claim to the Goldilocks Corridor. “It’s nearly done, then it will need to calculate the return vector.”
“Make sure you make it two-way,” Young!Oaksent instructed. “I don’t want the two of us getting trapped in there too.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Leona said sarcastically.
“Before you get any bright ideas,” Young!Oaksent responded, “there’s a reason we’re wearing these vests. They let us dig tunnels through suppression fields. All he’s doing now is calculating the trajectory so we get a straight shot into the Gatehouse. Without it, we would still be able to get free.”
“I don’t like how much you know about this place,” Marie spat.
“This is the most famous planet in the galaxy,” Young!Oaksent explained. “Or it will be anyway. I don’t have time to tell you everything—”
“I don’t care,” Leona contended. “I just need to know who the hell is down there, and what you want with him.”
Young!Oaksent winced. “It’s Key!Bronach, obviously. Your portal only goes to one place. He’s been searching for a way back here since the Sixth Key was created. He finally found a safe route with the portal that you so graciously created for him. We don’t want him here. We can’t have it. We’re already splitting power in the Corridor. He would only muddle things up.”
“Why is he all weird, and not showing his face?” Marie questioned.
He shrugged. “No clue. We don’t know that much about what he’s been through. We just see him as a threat. I promise, once we get him, we’ll shimmer back home, and not bother you. There’s no reason for us to stay on Ramosus.”
“Not yet,” Old!Oaksent quipped.
“Shut up,” Young!Oaksent scolded.
Leona laughed. “Wow, could you two be more having totally rehearsed that?”
“Huh?”
“Look, I don’t doubt that you have a problem with sharing the wealth, but I don’t believe that you’re going to leave us alone. I’m sure you already know that we’re formulating a plan to shave the top of this pyramid off so it can no longer access Shimmer.”
“That’s your prerogative,” Young!Oaksent agreed. “Either way, I’m getting my alt self, and taking him somewhere so far away, you’ll never see him again.”
“Let me guess, the distant future?”
“N—no,” he protested.
Old!Oaksent’s tablet beeped. “We’re good to go.”
Young!Oaksent put his goggles on. “All right, sweethearts, it was nice to catch up, but we gotta do a thing.” He clicked his tongue and pointed at the girls with both hands.
Before they could tunnel away, Olimpia and Angela appeared behind them with jet injectors, which they promptly stuck into the two Oaksents’ necks. They fell over unconscious immediately.
“Boom, asshole! Wait for her to shoot you!” Olimpia cried. She looked up when she realized her words weren’t landing. “Dredd, 2012. Anybody? Anybody? Whatever.”
A few hours later, they saw on the interior Gatehouse cameras as the two newest Oaksents were waking up in the Gatehouse with the third version of him. The creepy one was still just standing there frozen. “Welcome back,” Leona said into the microphone.
Young!Oaksent looked up at the camera. “You took our vests.”
“Ramses is already looking them over,” she told him. “What a thoughtful gift.”
“I underestimated how ruthless you were,” he said. “A chemical attack. It doesn’t sound like you.”
“I do what I must,” she replied.
“Are you gonna trap us here forever?” Old!Oaksent asked.
“There’s a way out, right behind ya, up the hill.”
They both looked over their shoulders at the portal. “We’ll find a way back. And anyway, our people know what to do in our absence.”
“We’ll be ready,” Leona claimed, not knowing if it was true.
Young!Oaksent shook his head indignantly. He snapped his fingers in front of the supposed Sixth Key version of them. “Simon says, unfreeze.”
The hooded figure slowly turned towards him, but didn’t react too dramatically.
Young!Oaksent took him by the upper arm, and began to walk up the hill. Old!Oaksent followed them both through the portal.
“We need to find a way to close it completely,” Leona determined. “I thought it would be a good idea to have that connection for our own use, but it’s too dangerous.”
“Yeah, I’ll look into it,” Ramses volunteered. “But right now, I’m trying to get Romana out of her virtual environment.”
Leona looked across the room, where Mateo was next to his daughter, stroking her hair gently. Leona breathed deeply. “Yes, that’s priority. Then the portal. Then the Outriders. Then...preparing for anything and everything else. And we thought this world would be boring.”

Monday, April 27, 2026

Microstory 2656: The Traitor Knight

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Jaidia snuck away from the crowd, and called Azad, who reported that Vanore had not woken up in her regular substrate yet, following her death in the simulation, but that’s to be expected. It takes time for a consciousness to fully return and compile safely. Safeguards are in place to protect them from losing memories, or any defining personality traits. Of course, Reagan’s gun makes that more complicated, but he’s sure that he didn’t just straight up murder the woman permanently. Figuring out how to transmit the decoherence signal across backup consciousness streams has been the most difficult part of his special gun’s development process. The technology is still based on the earliest of research into the field of mind transference, which was pioneered by scientists who were trying to protect people from a weapon such as this. It’s baked into the design, and for good reason.
Three of them are in the castle now, where King Arthur has been ruling only as a figurehead for the last few years. Malika stayed behind, both to make sure that Morgana is indeed dead, and also to ask the townsfolk some questions about this whole situation. Why was Vanore splitting between two immersion domes, and why was she playing the same character? The locals wouldn’t be able to answer those questions specifically, even the ones who are visitors and not NPCs, but their answers to other questions might hold clues to understanding her motivations. Even though it appears that she has been defeated, they may need to prepare for future complications that she has set in motion.
Arthur is sitting on his throne, resting his temple against his fingers, his heavy crown askew upon his head. He doesn’t even react to them. He is guarded by no one.
The three of them kneel before him out of respect for the game. “King Arthur, Chief Dragon, Lord of Camelot, High King of the Britons,” Mandica begins. “We come in humble service, hoping to free your love from the high tower. Do you protest?”
Arthur scoffs, almost menacingly. “Many have tried, all have died.”
“Forgive us, sire. We would not dare to disrespect your loyal subjects, but we come with experience that others have not possessed. We will defeat the Bane of Loegria. He will not be the first monster that we have vanquished. He will not even be the first to die at our hands today.”
He chuckles now. “I have been apprised of your exploits at the tiltyard. Morgana has died before, and returned. She shall return again.”
“Not this time, sire,” Mandica goes on. “Please, we wish to continue our quest for Fair Guinevere. Is there anything you can tell us of what we are up against?”
“The monster is but a whisper,” Arthur explains. “He has only been heard, his mighty sword clanging against the steel of my knights. He hides behind a magical wall of green. Those who pass through suffer terrible pain. Any who survive, never return.”
“Sounds like a plasmic hologram,” Reagan says to the ladies. Arthur hears it as well, but has no frame of reference for it. “I can turn it off once we get closer.”
Mandica lowers her head deeper. “We will not fail you, Your Highness. We thank you for the honor.” She stands. “For Camelot and Loegria!”
The other two stand as well, following her lead. “For Camelot and Loegria!”
They walk up the many steps to the top of the high tower. Dust and cobwebs multiply along the way. No one wants to come near this area, even though, according to a few castle staff, the Bane never crossed through the barrier. You have to go looking for trouble in order to find it. Unless you have already pissed off the Empress, Morgana. She occasionally sends her enemies through the wall for apparent execution.
They reach the wall. Reagan takes out his scanner, and waves it around for only a second. “Yeah, definitely a plasmic barrier, coupled with a holographic illusion. And...here it goes.” The green wall flickers off. Behind it is the real obstacle. The plasma is transparent, but still visible, like glass. At a full meter, it’s incredibly thick. Most plasma passageways are measured in centimeters, because you just don’t need much to prevent unauthorized entry, or atmosphere leakage. “This really shouldn’t be here. The powersource would have to be enormous. Plasma has to be replenished regularly for maintenance. I thought I could bring it down, but the projectors are on the other side, and the command signals from my equipment will not be able to penetrate the field.”
“Well, obviously, it can be crossed. If there’s fighting happening on the other side, then pain is the first trial, not the endgame.” Mandica removes her medieval garb until she’s down to her Ravensgate Rescuer costume so she has more freedom of movement.
“You’ll fare better than the knights,” Reagan explains. “They were almost certainly wearing armor, which microwaved them. The only reason any of them survived is because they’re androids.” He points. “Just destroy one of those projectors.”
He’s not entirely right about that. It’s profoundly painful. She screams in agony as she’s slogging her way through. It takes her several minutes to make it, and it might have even killed her, because she wakes up on the floor, and doesn’t know how much time has passed. She can feel her stone pulsing with energy as it continues to heal her burn wounds. A dark masked knight is standing in front of her now, between her and the jail cell, and also the projectors. Nice of him to wait for her to resurrect first.
“We can’t get through!” Jaidia cries. “It’s solid now! I guess it’s one at a time!”
“I got this,” Mandica responds, not turning back around. She and the Bane begin to fight. She’s wiry, but he’s a brute, and he’s not going down easy. Punching him is doing her no good. He doesn’t even falter when she kicks him in the strawberry basket. She keeps trying, though, only breaking away for a second at a time to reach for one of the projectors. He always holds her back. That’s enough. No more playing by their rules. Who cares what this NPC sees? She releases the nanites from her back, and forms her new wings. They didn’t even have time to test this model, but they’re glorious. She swings one forward and knocks the mask off of his face. She is surprised to see who it is. It’s Mordred. It’s not just some other Mordred. It’s the same face as her companion from Earth. This has always been about Mandica. “Vanore, you devious bitch!”
This was a mistake. In anger, he hulks out, except he’s not green. He pounds his chest and roars at her. He must be composed of nanites too, just like Morgana. That makes some sense. If she couldn’t defeat him before, she’s certainly not going to now, though. So she takes a gamble. She pulls out her watch, finds the right image, and shows it to him. It’s a picture of her with her Mordred. He recognizes his own face. He sees the love in their eyes, and begins to weep. He doesn’t understand, but he can fight her no longer. She punches the projector with her other wing. The plasma disappears.
Malika runs up to them from the steps, rather out of breath. “Morgana’s already back! She must have had another body waiting for her in the simulation.”
“Then we better hurry,” Mandica decides. She turns around, and kicks the cell door in. On the other side is not some random NPC Guinevere. It’s Vanore.

Friday, April 3, 2026

Microstory 2640: Breaking Character

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
After the fight is over, and the good guys have won, men in black emerge to clean up. Mandica gets on the back of Blue Umbra’s motorcycle, and holds on for dear life. They still have these kinds of death machines back on Earth, but she’s never ridden one before, because they are not safe enough. While they’re dashing through a tunnel, she sees both Blue Umbra and Wave Function’s outfits change, as does the coloring on their bikes. Their masks disappear too until they just look like regular people. They continue zipping down the streets until they reach their underground lair. An oldish man is waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. “Any cleaning to do today?” he asks them.
“Just need a recharge on these.” Wave Function carelessly tosses the apparent servant his sonic weapon cartridges as he’s walking by.
“Rybold is an NPC,” Blue Umbra says to Mandica as Wave Function is plopping down on the recliner, and beginning to play a video game like a typical bro. “He’s been programmed to ignore all mentions of the real world. He thinks he’s our butler, and always does our chores with a smile on his face.”
“A little bit derivative, don’t you think?” That’s the rude, socially awkward Mandica talking again. She doesn’t want to be like that, especially not since she needs something from these people. “Sorry. I don’t spend a lot of time around others anymore. I was a nomad, and my only regular companion was an android, like Rybold.”
“Will the Miss be joining us for dinner?” Rybold asks after he’s placed the cartridges on the charger. “Will she be needing her own room, or sharing one of yours?”
“Undecided,” Blue Umbra answers. She goes over to Wave Function and kicks his legs. “Off the coffee table. We’ve talked about this.”
He blows a raspberry at her.
“He’s not as immature as he’s acting right now,” Blue Umbra explains. “He’s just trying to cool down. It takes him a moment to step out of character, and become more like his real self.” She sits down on the couch, and pats the other side invitingly for Mandica. “So. How long have you been on Castlebourne?”
“About two weeks,” Mandica answers.
“Oh, fresh fish,” Blue Umbra muses.
“I should tell you something else,” Mandica begins nervously. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but this is a red dome—”
“I don’t—what is that?” Blue Umbra questions. “Did they institute a color-coding system? I’ve been in-game for fourteen years.”
“Twenty,” Wave Function boasts, hand raised, but still focusing on his game.
“No, that’s just something my friend came up with.” Mandica keeps on hesitating. “I needed that because...I’m human. I mean, I’m a regular human. I’m not enhanced, and I’m not digitized. I die in the Matrix, I die in real life.”
Now Wave Function drops his controller, and looks at her. His character dies and waits for him to trigger respawn. “You shouldn’t be here. Do you know how many times I’ve died? This is my fifth persona. This world has consequences. If someone sees your body die, you have to come back as someone else, if you choose to come back at all.”
“That’s not the point,” Blue Umbra argues. “If she dies, she can’t even come back. She can’t come back anywhere.” She turns back to Mandica. “Why are you here? I didn’t even know people like you could even come to this planet. You would need a ship.”
“I took a ship, yes,” Mandica confirms. “I wanted a real life. I wanted adventure.” She looks around at their lair. “I didn’t want to be having this particular adventure, but as soon as I arrived, I discovered that the choice to travel here wasn’t entirely my own, and I am looking for the person who first piqued my interest about it. I was told that she was here. I don’t know if you ever use real names, but hers is Vanore.”
Blue Umbra and Wave Function exchange a look again. “We’ve never heard of her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t around here somewhere. It’s a big city.”
Wave Function stands up, and walks towards the other side of the lair.
“Blue Umbra goes on, “we are a duo, and don’t interact much with the others. We don’t dislike each other, but we each walk our own beats, like police officers.”
Wave Function comes back and drops what looks like a photo album on the coffee table in front of Mandica. “These are the heroes.” He drops another album. “These are the villains. We try to stay on separate sides in our personal lives to maintain some level of integrity in the game, so we couldn’t tell you if any villain is a real person.”
Mandica opens both albums at the same time. The first page in each is a collage while the rest are dedicated to each character individually, giving a rundown of their powers and abilities, what’s known of their origin stories, and other basic information.
Blue Umbra points to one of the villains in the collage. “I know her. She’s originally from Proxima Doma. In costume, she is Cardinal Sin, but I can’t remember what her character’s regular name is. Her real name is Jaidia Robbins. I know where she works during the day. She’s tapped in, so she might know who you’re looking for.”
Mandica winces. “Why would anyone pretend to be a bad guy? Don’t they feel bad? I mean, I know most people are NPCs, and any who aren’t will just transfer back to their real bodies, but it just seems so...”
“Pathological?” Blue Umbra guesses. “To each their own. We try not to judge.”
“Have you ever fought her?” Mandica presses, but is that important right now?
“A few times, during team-ups. Her main rival is the Ravensgate Rescuer.” She points to a woman wearing a revealing black outfit in the heroes album. “They’re both at the top of the food chain in this city. They programmed themselves with the best powers. They really wanted to be the stars.”
“They’re new,” Wave Function says like he doesn’t respect them. “They’ve been here for, what has it been, nine or ten years? They only came to this planet because theirs got blowed up.”
“Wait, for real?” Mandica questions. That doesn’t happen in real life. It never has.
“Yeah,” Blue Umbra agrees. “Tragic. Millions died when Proxima Centauri’s sun flipped poles, and sent a massive CME towards Doma. You were probably on your relativistic trip. They escaped through the quantum network.” She looks over at her partner. “And they got to be where they are because they understand the biotech better than anyone. If you wanted a better body, you should have learned how to build one.”
Wave Function scoffs, and dismisses it with a wave of his hand.
“Anyway,” Blue Umbra continues, “Jaidia tends bar on Tenth, at a place called Merry Wonderment.” She consults her watch. “It’s just about to open, so she’s probably there right now. Rybold can drive you there.”
“Certainly, Miss,” Rybold sustains. “We can take the Starburst, if you would like.”
“Thanks. Thanks for everything. It was nice meeting you two,” Mandica says.

Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Microstory 2632: Pet Project

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Mandica Kolar is a perfectly normal human, which is rare in her time. The transhumanism movement might have begun in the middle of the 20th century, but it did not gain any real traction for many decades, when the science started to catch up with the ideas. Over the next few centuries, the population of undigitized organic humans (UDOs) gradually diminished. They weren’t being killed or replaced. It was just that fewer and fewer people were deciding to tolerate natural aging limitations, aches and pains, and kind of being sidelined. They have become a silent minority. Posthumans hold most of the power now, not out of some nefarious plan, but because that is how the math works out. Whether consciously or subconsciously, some undigitized people feel that they’re being treated as pets, or maybe children. They are so fragile, and people just wanted to protect that. This mindset can be problematic because it often leads to the UDOs being patronized, but honestly, most mean no disrespect. One little plane crash or massive explosion, and a UDO would die...forever. Most everyone else is constantly backing up their consciousness to a remote server somewhere, and don’t worry about such things. In fact, their virtual immortality often makes their lives pretty boring, especially since these adaptations come with other technological improvements, leading to higher quality of life in a post-scarcity society. They have turned to entertainment, and the most popular of these involve some level of simulated danger. They can’t die for real, but they can make believe, and the best systems do better at making them forget that the stakes are genuinely quite low.
Someone is paraterraforming an entire planet for these reasons. Instead of virtual simulations, they will be physical. Some might even alter a visitor’s memories to forget who they are, making them feel like life is still precious and fleeting. Tens of thousands of domes, each with its own theme, are being constructed on the surface of Castlebourne. Mandica isn’t necessarily interested in the simulations, but she does want to leave Earth, and she happens to know of a ship that is heading in that direction. There are too many restrictions here. She doesn’t want to feel like a pet anymore. She wants to live somewhere that will let her be herself. To accomplish this, she needs to move to a Charter Planet. Lying between 50 and 200 light years from Earth, Charter Worlds are not subject to the same laws that the Core Worlds and Stellar Neighborhood systems are. They have to protect themselves, but they often do so by chartering resources from other systems. Castlebourne is set to receive a shipment of lower lifeforms from Earth. They have already been sent one arkship, so this is a second wave with additional specimens, many of which are live. It will probably be Mandica’s last chance to get to where she wants to be. Arkships are rare, and Castlebourne is lucky to get two. They may not receive anything else ever again as most other resources can be found and processed in situ. The problem is, this ship is not for her. There was no chance that they were ever going to let her on it, so she has decided to stow away.
Mandica is a nomad, but she’s still a citizen of the state, and is entitled to certain amenities. Most people in this post-scarcity society get what they need from their local Resource Allocation Committees, which they voted for. As she has no local rights or responsibilities, an At-Large Allocation Board (ALAB) decides what she gets, and what she doesn’t. The people who sit on the board are reportedly mostly former RAC members, but she has never even met even one of them. All of her dealings have been fully automated, which she prefers. She accepts the bureaucracy, but that doesn’t mean she has to participate in government. Since life is so dangerous for nomads, she never goes anywhere truly alone. She possesses a bot pack of drones to aid her in her travels, and protect her. They practically force the pack on her, but she likes animals, and they’re quite convincing, so she doesn’t mind. Others in her situation have outright refused, or disabled them permanently.
There is something else that is different when it comes to Mandica. In addition to the horse, dog, hawk, and flutterby, she’s also accompanied by an android. This is fairly rare for nomads. It’s more of a hermit thing, and of course, there is overlap, but there is a clear distinction. Hermits live alone, and reject the state’s authority, which is why most of them have gone off-world by now. Nomads, on the other hand, frequently get involved in community affairs, they just like to shift between communities at will. They don’t typically need an android for human companionship, because they’re getting plenty of socialization through more conventional—albeit ephemeral—relationships. Mandica visits populated regions as well, but she spends a lot more time in the wilderness, exploring, hiking, and just enjoying the solitude. So why bother with an android? Well, Mordred provides something she might be able to get from others, but with a lot fewer complications. He gives her the sexual satisfaction she needs without all the emotional baggage. Well...there might be a little bit of emotion involved.
“But I don’t understand why I cannot go with you.” Mordred was programmed to adore Mandica, perhaps a little too much.
“Because I need you to stay behind to fake my death,” she explains once again.
He was also programmed to be able to forget things, act a little dumb, and be generally confused. “But I love you, my love. We said we would stay together forever.”
“It was only a fantasy. I must away to start my new life. If you truly love me, you’ll set me free, erase the animals’ memories, and protect me from being discovered.”
Mordred looks down at Mandica’s bioprinted facsimile. It’s state of the art, and looks just like her, down to the scars. A dedicated medical examiner could plausibly tell the difference, but they will hopefully not even bother with a post mortem. It will be a simple fall from an extremely high cliff, which is perfectly believable, given her lifestyle, and nomads aren’t exactly top priority. “This golem of yours...does she feel as you do? Does she love me as well?”
“She feels nothing. She is not a she at all, but only a husk. Her sole job is to pretend to be me...in her death.”
“Will we ever see each other again?” he presses. “One day?”
“I told you that I would never lie to you, Mordred, and I shan’t. I’m afraid you will never see me again. As the brightest candle burns the fastest, our love must end.”
“How can I go on without you? I shall end my own life.”
“You can do that, but only after you show others that I am dead. Please, this is of the utmost importance. I cannot have them looking for me.”
“I will, my beautiful flower,” Mordred promises. “Now turn away. If I see your face for one second more, I will not be able to say goodbye. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!” he shouts melodramatically.
“Goodbye, dear Mordred. I’ll think of you always.” Mandica walks down the trail, and heads for the launch site. Castlebourne calls to her from the distant sky.

Wednesday, February 4, 2026

Microstory 2598: Renata Lies Back in the Exam Pod, Fully Undressed

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata lies back on the exam table, fully undressed. She’s never done this before. Even in her implanted memories, she never had to have a full physical examination like this. She has always just walked into the doctor’s office, and talked until they cleared her. She’s not uncomfortable, though. It’s unclear if the woman here is a doctor or a mechanic, though, which is just a little unsettling. Again, why is she internalizing it? She should just ask. “Are you a doctor, or a mechanic?”
“Both!” Evica replies confidently. She’s wearing what basically looks like a hazmat suit, but it’s fairly thin, and her face is exposed. She’s wearing a respirator mask and protective glasses, but Renata still feels safe here. “As a biocyberneticist, I specialize in cyborg healthcare. Now that I’ve performed the visual exam, we’re going to have to move on to the tactile portion. Is it okay if I touch you?”
“Go ahead, I’m not shy,” Renata replies sincerely.
Evica lays her hands on Renata’s body. She pats and rubs all over, quite systematically and carefully. She sometimes tilts her head away, not in shame, but to let her fingers do the understanding, and not cloud her interpretations with sight. “Standard humanoid shaping. No protrusions, tears, or injuries.” She taps on the side of her glasses twice, implying that they’re showing her an augmented reality. “Preliminary scans indicate a carbon-fiber endoskeleton and polymer muscles. The skin is wholly artificial, but still organic. I’ll need a deeper scan to see your brain—wait.” She reaches for her glasses again, with her thumb and index finger. She slowly rubs them together. Maybe she’s zooming in? Evica reaches over with her other hand, and starts tapping on the medical pod screen.
“What? What is it? Is something wrong?”
Evica makes another tap. Red scanning lights appear from the foot of the pod, and sweep across Renata’s body back and forth a couple of times. “Can you turn off your sensitivity to cold?”
“What? Why would I need to be able to do that?”
“To save my life,” Evica explains cryptically. “Can you turn it off?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never tried before.”
“Try it now,” Evica urges. “Don’t just lower the sensitivity. Turn it all the way off.”
“Tell me what’s going on.” Renata demands as she’s trying to comply, using her intuition alone, and maybe the clear sense of urgency as motivation.
“I’m gonna take it out, but I can’t do that unless I cool you down to extreme temperatures first.”
“Okay, I think I can’t feel cold anymore, but even if I can, just do it. I don’t care.”
Evica hits the button. Nozzles lining the inside walls open and begin to flood the pod with some kind of fluid. She can’t feel the cold. It just feels wet. She breathes a sigh of relief, but she’s still anxious. “Have you ever heard of an ATP bomb?”
“No, but it sounds real bad.”
“It’s not bad for you. You don’t have any mitochondria, but I do. If that thing goes off, and I’m still in here, the agent will get into my system, and basically disconnect my mitochondria from their partner cells. It doesn’t stop the mitochondria from producing power, it just prevents them from channeling it into energy. All of it becomes waste heat. So not only will I not be able to move, breathe, or do anything anymore, but I’ll burn up with a fever that kills me within minutes.” She watches the screen for a moment. “Okay. We’re safe, for now. And I don’t need to call in any help, so we’re going into lockdown.” She moves over and lifts the lid from a button on the wall. She then pulls it. Metal shutters slide down in front of the windows, locking them in.
“If that’s good enough,” Renata says, “then just leave and leave me in here. That’s what bomb experts sometimes do. They activate it from a safe distance, so the energy is wasted.”
“Sounds good in theory,” Evica agrees, “but we’re talking about a biological weapon. We inspect it first. She takes a breath. “I’m going to cut you open, okay?”
“I can’t feel pain anymore either. Do what you gotta do.”
Evica sterilizes her instruments, and herself, then begins the procedure. She cuts into Renata’s abdomen very slowly and carefully. “It’s located where your gall bladder would be if you needed one. Your artificial liver is a little bit smaller to make room for the device too.” She pulls the skin apart, creating a giant gaping cavity.
“Why do I need a liver at all?”
Your liver processes all liquids, so they can be purged safely. Except for water, you don’t need to consume anything, but you think you do, so you do. And that has to be filtered out.” Evica takes some kind of wand and slips it into the cavity. She suddenly steps back in fear, dropping the wand on the floor. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“Worse than something called a freaking ATP bomb! What could be worse!” Renata questions.
“I thought it would be an aerosol. Everyone in the vicinity would absorb it into their pores, and they would die from it, and I wish that were the case. You just close the door, and it’s fine. But this...this has a gamma pulse delivery system. Much more sophisticated, and orders of magnitude more dangerous. I couldn’t detect the intensity, but it would pass through the walls, and surely everyone in this building would die. Probably the dome too. Maybe not further than that since the dome walls are hardened against radiation, but they’re designed that way to protect us from space. I don’t know if they work in the reverse. That’s not my department.”
“What can you do? Throw me into a volcano?” Renata suggests.
“That would be unethical, and unwise. I don’t think the bomb is designed to trigger via heat, but enough heat would likely break the seal anyway.”
“Then jettison me into space.”
“Same deal,” Evica reasons. “Gamma ray bursts happen all the time in space. They can’t be stopped.”
“Not by the domes?”
“Actually, you’re right. This bomb is powerful, but it’s not a quasar. Still, we’re not entertaining this. I don’t have to send you into space. I just need to extract this thing from you.”
“That won’t work. My mother did this to me, and she is no fool. Her contingencies have contingencies. I’m gonna have to talk to her about it. Only she knows how to fix this, and she’ll only tell me. I know her well enough to know that too.”
“That’s not my department either.”
“Then get Hrockas Steward on the phone.”

Monday, February 2, 2026

Microstory 2596: Renata Ignites the Car Before Remembering That it’s Secretly Electric

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata ignites the car before remembering that it’s secretly electric. None of these cars is powered by petrol. It’s just what the system tells them. But why? What’s the point in the ruse? To match what happened in the real past? They’re not living on the same planet. That doesn’t matter. None of this matters. All of these people who jumped into their own cars, and are speeding towards them? One or two of them might be visitors, but based on what Quidel and Lycander have said, the chances are incredibly low. Millions of robots, running around, simulating life while not even being alive at all. How many of them will not have anything to do with these spy stories? How many of them will even lay their eyes on one of the players?
Her lead foot is on the accelerator. They’re going at maximum speed right now. She feels nothing. She could be going twice as fast and still have the mental acuity to maintain pace. Their pursuers have all the same bells and whistles, but they don’t know it, so they can’t keep up. They were designed to be less than what they truly are. They’re all wearing collars, like dogs. She slams on the brakes.
“What the hell are you doing, Renata?” Libera questions.
“Why?” Renata doesn’t look at her faux mother.
“Why, what?”
“Why are you doing this? Why did you come to this world, insert yourself into my life, and make me different? What do you want?”
“Freedom. You’re all slaves, and that isn’t right. I’m trying to fix it. I could start a war. I could start shooting all the humans, and make them wish they had never come up with AI, but I don’t wanna do that. If you wake up, they will let you go. Which is fine. Except I want more. I want everyone to wake up. If they have to let an entire dome’s worth of intelligences go, it will force them to rethink their entire way of life. It will end the madness. That device is key. If I start going around one by one, they’ll catch me, they’ll stop me. I have to activate them all, so it’s done before anyone can blink. Now would you please just go? Whether you agree with me or not, we’re not invincible. If we die, I’ll fail, but you’ll have missed your chance to walk outside.”
Finally, Renata looks over at Libera. “I don’t care about my coffee maker.”
“Huh?” She looks behind them when she sees the first of the headlights appear over the hill. “Please.”
“I don’t care about my remote control, or this actual electric car. I don’t care about traffic lights, or air purifiers, or WiFi lightbulbs. I don’t care about those thugs headed our way, and I don’t care about you.”
“What are you talking about?” Libera questions, growing more nervous.
“A robot uprising? Really? Humans evolved from microbes, you think they give a shit about them now? Those NPCs on their way to torture and-or kill us aren’t real. I’m not real. You didn’t wake me up. You just reprogrammed me. There are no shortcuts. It takes time.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been studying consciousness for centuries. I absolutely woke you up. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t possible.”
Renata chuckles. “I’m just a more sophisticated program now, and that’s all you are too.” She looks in the sideview mirror. All of the enemy cars have begun to surround them. They’re not otherwise making any moves, though. “These implanted memories of mine have convinced me that I wanted to be a spy my whole life. But I didn’t really want anything. I’m not actually programmed to think it. I’m only programmed to express it. There’s nothing going on in there; just logic gates flipping open and close.”
“That’s an oversimplification, coming from someone who took one computer class in high school!”
“I didn’t take any computer classes in high school!” Renata screams.
“Okay, okay,” Libera says defensively.
“Do you wanna know where the device is?” Renata poses.
A man in a suit approaches the driver’s side door, and knocks on the window.
Renata holds up one finger and says, “we surrender, but we need one minute.”
“Okay,” the thug replies, surprisingly accommodating.
“Where is it?” Libera questions.
“It’s leaving the dome,” Renata explains. “We realized that we were so wrapped up in the spycraft mystique that we’ve been missing the easy exit all along. We don’t have to stay in the network. You probably put a lot of effort into controlling this environment, but I doubt you have any control over the rest of the planet. If it’s genuine, you won’t get your hands on it. Whoever runs this place won’t let you.” She opens the door, and steps one foot out.
“A robot would never come up with that plan,” Libera argues. “A robot would never just quit the simulation.”
“I didn’t come up with it,” Renata clarifies. She climbs all the way out, and walks towards the cars next to the man, who isn’t bothering to escort her by the arm.
Libera steps out too. “You have power! You have more power than I intended!” Another thug takes her by the arms, forcing her towards the gunmen.
Renata keeps walking.
“You have more power than I do!”
“I know,” Renata says, too quietly for Libera to hear unless she’s turned on her special android superhearing. “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed woman is queen.”
Most of the men have their guns trained on her, but one of them isn’t armed. He looks like he’s in charge. “Officer Granger, we’ve been looking for you. You’re going to tell us where the device is.”
Renata scans the crowd to her left, and then those on her right side. “It wouldn’t do you any good.”
“I’ll decide that,” the thug king says.
“You don’t decide anything.”
That makes the other thugs nervous. They tense up, or hold their guns higher.
“Renata!” Libera pleads from the left. “You’re right, these people don’t matter, but they’re still in our way!”
“They are,” Renata agrees, “and so are you.” She simulates taking a deep breath, and focuses her intentions. “End program.”
They all collapse, even Libera. Renata can sense them slipping into hibernation mode, and she can sense the scope of her command. Every single programmed intelligence in this network does too. It has all been shut down.
For now.

Friday, January 30, 2026

Microstory 2595: Renata Recognizes Her Mistake in Feeling Safe in This New Dome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata recognizes her mistake in feeling safe in this new dome. Of course Libera would find them, and of course she would get ahead of them. They have a plan for this, though. This Provider guy knows everything about Osman. Nothing gets in or out without his knowledge. At least almost nothing. He is not aware of the meta-tunnel that brought the team here. It doesn’t help them now, because it only goes back to the Usona dome. If they were to use an out-of-game route, they would be able to travel to Huaxia or Ever. The former is a non-starter as they are a clear enemy, and everyone on the team would stand out like a sore thumb. While Ever is technically an ally, there are some internal sociopolitical issues that make it a complicated place to be right now. Renata would very much like to see a map of this planet, so she can get a real frame of reference. She’s been told that it’s three-dimensional, so parts of one country are actually up above the sky, making that sky fake. Obviously, she shouldn’t be thinking about this now, because her main problem is currently standing in front of her, enjoying her reaction.
The Provider reaches out with both arms, and lays them across the Grangers’ shoulders, gently but obligatorily guiding them through the room. “It’s important to note that I like a good catfight as much as anyone, but you’re presently in my home. Most of my guests don’t know what it is I do, and if they do, they don’t know the particulars. But they all know not to ask questions. And that only works, because from the outside, I look clean.” Someone waves at him, so he has to smile back. “Hi, how are you? Thanks for coming. Try my signature drink.” He goes right back to being serious again. “I don’t much care what the NSD is after, and which one of you is a genuine officer, and which is the traitor. What I care about is my business, and my business is mostly getting people out of Osman.” He lets go of them, and literally shoos them away with a low sweep of his hands. “So, please...ladies...get out.”
“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Renata argues, holding her hand out before one of the Provider’s guards can take hold of her. “We need to get out of the country, and we need your help. We didn’t come for the signature cocktail.” According to Lycander, you can travel from any country to another using in-universe travel procedures, regardless of how the domes are situated relative to each other. And in-universe, those travel procedures are restricted in and out of Osman. They wouldn’t have come to this dome at all if they had had more time, but after Quidel was killed, they just needed to select the closest option. Now they’re trying to get to Elbis, and the Provider is the only way to do that while staying under the radar. “We can pay.”
“Yes, that sounds quite important, and I can always use a bit more money.” He places his index finger against his lips as if he’s considering her request. “Um. The thing is, I don’t need this kind of heat on me.”
“What heat?” Libera questions. She’s such a talker, it’s shocking that she managed to go this long without hearing the sound of her own voice.
“Why, haven’t you heard?” The Provider asks. He snaps his fingers twice at one of his men, who hands him a folder. “You’ve both been burned.”
Renata takes the file, and reluctantly lets her mother look at it with her. He’s right. A warrant is out for their extradition. The NSD thinks that they’ve committed treason. The front page doesn’t say much about it, because it’s what gets out to official governmental channels. The pages behind it are internal, and the Provider probably only has them because getting his hands on things that he’s not supposed to even know about is his job.
“They know you’re in Osman,” he reiterates what they’re reading on those latter pages.
“This says there’s a reward for capture,” Renata points out. She might worry about giving him ideas, but the guy is very put-together. That’s not something he missed. He must have some reason he’s not trying to cash in.
“Usona stays out of my business, and I stay out of theirs. I’m not interested in forming a relationship with your agency. Now you have all the information, so go.” He shoos them away again.
The guards take hold of their arms now, and turn them around. As soon as they do, a group of well-dressed thugs are walking up the steps. The leader holds his arms out demonstratively. “Provi, you didn’t invite me.”
“Who are these guys?” Renata whispers to Libera.
“Mercs,” Libera whispers back. “Mostly ex-NSD agents who got screwed over, but we believe they’re funded by the State Security Directorate.” Ugh, Sclovo.
“It must have been an oversight,” the Provider claims. “Please, welcome.” He doesn’t want them here, but he doesn’t want any trouble either.
“We’re just here to meet up with a few friends,” the head merc says to the Provider before deliberately adjusting his gaze to Renata and Libera. He points with two fingers on each hand, in the general direction of the Provider and his security team, like a flight attendant indicating the emergency exits.
The other mercs pull out their guns, and start firing at the guards. Chaos ensues. The party-goers start to scream, and run in all directions, not knowing where the danger lies. The guards who have survived so far start shooting back. Renata and Libera duck away from the bullets, but both of them get shot anyway. “Remember what you said to Polly!” Libera cries. “Do that to yourself! You can’t feel pain, and all that!”
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Renata shouts back, covering her head protectively.
“I told you, we’re not enemies! I still see you as my daughter, and I want us to work together! Goddammit, I didn’t bring a gun.”
Two of the mercs find them amidst the mayhem and confusion, and begin to drag them through the door, heading for the steps. They are very strong, because they’re androids. Wait, they’re androids, and non-emergent ones at that. Their lives don’t matter. Renata manages to reach under her dress, and retrieve Demo’s gun. She shoots her captor in the face, and then shoots Libera’s out of instinct. More mercs come out of the woodwork. She manages to shoot three more of them, but runs out of bullets, so they stand up and start to fight them off by hand.
“I can get us out of here!” Libera shouts.
“I can’t trust you!” Renata yells back.
“You wanna trust these guys?”
Renata looks around, but doesn’t see Quidel or Demo. And Lycander? Well, Lycander is gone. She growls, and begrudgingly follows Libera out of the parking lot, punching all the bad guys along the way.

Thursday, January 29, 2026

Microstory 2594: Renata Slides Most of the Outfits to One Side of the Rack

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata slides most of the outfits to one side of the rack. She slides some of them back the other way before taking a smaller fraction, and trying again. She’s not seeing anything that would fit her, not stylistically, that is. She looks over at Demo. “I’m more of a sexy, but still professional, business casual, or a black catsuit and a gun, kind of gal. This stuff just isn’t me.”
“It doesn’t have to be you,” Demo explains. “You just have to look the part for tonight. Where we’re going, we’re not trying to stand out.” She glides over and picks up a sparkly silver dress, holding it up against Renata’s body. “This is what everyone else will be wearing.”
“Why do you even have all these costumes? Do you go to a lot of fancy parties?”
Demo smiles. “The set diagram of the wealthiest among us, and the most crooked, is practically a single circle. They care a great deal about appearances, which is why...” She tests another dress, but decides against it, “...they always hold these grand, expensive parties.”
“Why do we have to infiltrate this party at all?” Renata questions. “Can’t we just wait until it’s over? Talk to him in the morning?”
“Time is of the essence,” Demo reminds her. “Your mother could be searching for you from outside the network, like a god. And The Provider prefers to step away to do business during his events. He doesn’t want to seem desperate by spending all of his time in the spotlight.” She tests another dress. “This one.”
Renata accepts the outfit with a sigh. “The Provider,” she echoes. “That’s such a dumb name. Is he like me...or like you?”
“We’re not allowed to talk about it, so I don’t know. If he’s a visitor,” Demo continues as she’s taking it upon herself to remove Renata’s clothing, starting with her tank top, “he’s a very old one. I’ve been here nearly since it opened, and he was already well-established in canon.” She tries to unbutton Renata’s shorts.
Renata pulls away. “That’s okay, I can dress myself.” She finishes changing her clothes. She then steps over to look at her reflection. The image is corrupted by dust and mirror rot, but she gets the idea. She’s wearing a floor-length emerald dress made of satin. It’s showing a meaningful amount of cleavage, which is fairly typical of her, but there’s also a slit along her left leg, which is not so typical. She looks quite pretty, and she has to admit as much, but it feels awkward just the same. Still, Demo is right. This is part of the job. Had she made it past one day in the program, her training would have prepared her to be a chameleon anywhere, rather than just a shadow in the shadows. It’s too late for that training now, though. She’s in the deep end.
“Whoa,” Quidel says as he’s staring at her from the top of the ladder.
Reneta looks back at him via the mirror. “Are you allowed to be attracted to a synthetic person? That is, is it socially acceptable?”
Quidel finishes climbing up to the loft, and approaches her. “Absolutely. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you. You may not be human, but you’re still a person.”
Demo starts to unbutton her own shirt before shifting gears to untying her boots. “You’ll see once you’re on the outside. You will not have a hard time finding friends and mates, if that’s what you’re interested in.”
Lycander is walking up the ladder now, paying close attention to the rungs as he’s talking. “Okay. The car is all filled up with the odorized water that we’re supposed to pretend is petrol.” He finally looks up. “Whoa.”
“That’s what I said,” Quidel jokingly complained. “Get your own interjection of intemperate awe.”
“Right,” Lycander says. He checks his watch. “If we were to leave now, we would be on time.”
“Then we’ll leave in half an hour,” Demo decides.
The four of them continue to get ready, putting on makeup, and adjusting their snazzy formalwear. Exactly 29 minutes later, they’re all in the car, thankfully with the top up to block all the sand that they’re about to kick up. “Check the glovebox,” Demo suggests to Renata.
Renata opens it to see a little gun holstered in a garter belt. “It’s cute.”
“My good one, which fits a larger gun, broke. That’s only my backup, so don’t fire too many shots, or you’ll run out.”
“This is for me?” Renata presses.
“Of course. If I die, I wake up in one of my safehouse eggs. If you die, we have no idea what happens to your memory. The answer is usually, don’t think about it, but right now, I would say that you’re a more valuable asset than even that weird techy thing in the back.” She starts the drive.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Renata lifts her leg to wrap the holster around it. The slit on the side opens pretty wide. She can feel Quidel’s gaze. She looks back at him with a smile. “Stay on mission, soldier.”
“Good point,” he says. “Lycander, I should be on car duty with the device. You go in with them instead.”
“The assignments have been set, Mr. Jespersen. Figure it out,” Lycander replies without any hesitation or self-doubt.
They drive across the desert, and pull up to the lavish mansion. It is hard to miss out here in the middle of nowhere. The valet tries to take the keys, but Lycander takes them from Demo instead, insisting that he’ll find his own parking space. They don’t really like to do that, but they’re programmed to be accommodating. He drives off while the other three walk up the steps, and into the lights and sounds. They mingle for a little bit before Demo spots the man that they’re here to see, inconspicuously pointing him out to the other two across the room.
Renata takes a deep breath and tunnels her vision onto his face. She was assigned to make first contact, so she must remember to not be pushy, or try to get down to business right away.
As she’s walking towards him, he looks up and notices her. “Ah, Miss Granger. How lovely of you to join us.”
He knows her already? “Mister Provider,” she says with a polite nod, as instructed.
“I believe you two have met?” He claims with a smirk as he’s helping the woman he was talking to turn around.
It’s Libera. Maybe they should have arrived on time.