Showing posts with label announcement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label announcement. Show all posts

Monday, May 25, 2026

Microstory 2676: They Pull Me Back In

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Resi is done. After recovering from his second Kidjum, he ignores Kartica’s pleas for him to stick around and help him figure out what she claims to be his visions of the future. He exits the Tadungeria, and the Tamboran nation as a whole. He finds himself a plot of land on the border of Pekat and Sanggar. It’s not particularly comfortable, but it grants him access to the beach for fishing, and the plants for gathering. He collects his own rainwater, and doesn’t bother anyone. Most importantly, no one bothers him. His former Fold and House have abandoned him, either out of respect for his wishes, or deciding that if he’s weak enough to wish for it, he must not be worth following.
They have not been punished for their pasts. The exile has been rescinded entirely, even for Resi himself, though he’s technically fulfilling the requirement, just in his own way. He belongs to no nation now, but he has nothing, so no one is trying to follow in his footsteps. Every morning, Resi wakes up and looks towards Central Mountain. It still has not erupted, and is giving no indication that it might anytime soon. Kartica came by several times in the beginning to convince him to induce more visions, but he refused, and she didn’t try to force him again. That doesn’t mean he’s leading a quiet, simple life. He has tried to push the apocalyptic Kidjum visions out of his head, but they won’t stop coming. He went to the doctor, who confirmed that the elixir was fully out of his system, so why does he keep returning to that hellscape? What does it mean? He has decided that’s just his brain’s way of being an asshole. He still doesn’t believe that he’s genuinely predicting the future, because that would be nuts.
For the most part, he stays out of politics and society. He stays out of everyone’s lives, full stop. Someone will occasionally come by to check on him, though. His brother came by once, as did his older sister a few times. A few random people here and there. Zenith showed up in her fancy motorboat, but couldn’t do much since she was mostly bound to non-interference. Everyone else brings him food. It’s not enough to keep him alive on its own, but it’s very magnanimous of them, and he’s always gracious and kind. They call him a hermit, but there’s no reason to be grumpy or dismissive with others.
Former Kutelins have been reintegrated into society. They were allowed to undergo makeup Kidjums, and get placed in one of the regular Four Houses. Society has basically returned to normal, though there has been a significant uptick in military recruitment. It doesn’t appear to be forced conscriptions, but from his position, he can’t know what’s going on beyond closed doors. It’s been three years now, and the island should be celebrating the tricentennial, but a new announcement has overshadowed the levity. Chaya, who he hasn’t seen this entire time, has just shown up to relay that everything has changed. They have declared a massive change to their practices. Ever since the Houses were formed, one thing has been true: when you turn sixteen, you go through Kidjum, and get sorted. With so many new adults reportedly choosing military service, however, there are not enough people performing the other jobs. The Assembly has decided to seriously drop the age by four years. Starting soon, twelve-year-olds will be expected to undergo the ceremony, and start working full-time, completely obliterating the last four years of their education.
“Kala,” Resi says breathlessly. She will be turning twelve soon. He has tried to stay out of island business, but he can’t turn a blind eye anymore. Heads will roll, and the war they warned him about might finally come to pass.

Saturday, May 23, 2026

Extremus: Year 127

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software
Things were weird on the ship after the announcement came through that Admiral Oceanus Jennings was dead. People seemed to be alarmed and upset by the news. They would say things like he was too young, and that it wasn’t his time. Waldemar’s advisors explained the morale was down as a result of the sad development. Morale? Morale? Because somebody died? He was an old man, he wasn’t gonna live forever anyway. Waldemar will never understand this relentless pursuit of the past. It happened, get over it. You’re still alive, so don’t stop now. There’s more work to do. It’s been two years now, and things have not improved much. If Waldemar knew how the passengers, and especially the crew, would react, he never would have done it. Who knew that killing someone would have consequences? They didn’t teach that in school. They just said that murder was bad, and assumed everyone would understand and agree. He’s been smart, though. He hasn’t been contradicting them. Taking Silveon’s general life advice, he has been letting people feel what they feel. It’s been getting in the way of his plans, though. Extremus is in a slump.
Everyone is afraid of change. It is a core property of humans, actually, and all life. Sure, evolution necessarily leads to change, but everything is in search of equilibrium. Everything wants to find a way to live where they can be centered and happy. Change isn’t only scary, it requires high cognitive load, and the formation of new muscle memory. So in the end, it’s not as much about the fear of the unknown as it’s about laziness. Change requires putting in effort; mentally, physically, emotionally. Waldemar is probably no different than most people, except for the emotional side of things. He doesn’t want to work too hard. So why is all this change that he is trying to institute not a problem for him in particular? Well, it’s because his mental state is already there. He sees what the world should be, so his brain wants to do work. Even when it was originally working through the problems, though, it wasn’t too taxing, because it felt right. That’s the equilibrium that his mind is searching for. Change is the goal. That’s what his therapist-in-a-box says anyway. He’s been relying on her a lot these days.
“Why do you think that is?” Dr. Wholth asks in that soft voice of hers, which is likely meant to keep her patients calm.
“Why am I relying on you so much?” Waldemar guesses. “You’re the only person I can talk to who can’t get upset about the terrible things I’ve done, and can’t rat me out to anyone about them.”
Dr. Wholth is an airgapped program, loaded into a self-contained device, powered by interchangeable fuel cells. She has no access to the internet, and no one else has access to her. They don’t even know about her. He created her himself. He took the base personality of the ship’s freely available virtual companion, and copied it onto this offline machine. He then fed it all of the psychological, psychiatric, and therapeutic information he could find. She even knows a little bit of medicine, though she wouldn’t be able to do anything to help physically since she’s only a hologram. “You don’t think you can trust Silveon or Audrey anymore? You used to lo— be quite attached to them.” He didn’t program her to make little mistakes like that. As he is not a tech developer, he can’t figure out how to remove it from her core code.
“To be honest, I’m getting rather tired of them. I used to crave stability and predictability, but now I just want a fresh start. I want new people. I think I needed them before. I don’t think that I’ve learned I never needed them. I think I genuinely changed. I’m proof that it can happen.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” she says encouragingly. “You’re getting better at understanding your own behavior, and feeling less robotic; your words.”
He laughs. She is always acting like she can offend him, but she really can’t. He knows that she’s just zeroes and ones. She sometimes acts afraid too, like when he talks about the people he’s killed. She seems worried that he will do the same to her. Which he might. He shuts her off every time he’s done using her, and her consciousness does not continue until he switches her back on. He could one day choose to never complete that second step ever again. He could open the device up, and break all of her circuits apart. He sometimes considers that, just so he can end a life without any risk of consequences. He wouldn’t even need to contact his secret police for help covering it up.
“What are you thinking about, Waldemar? You’ve been quiet for the last couple of minutes,” Dr. Wholth says.
He wants to get a reaction, so he tells her the truth about his most recent thoughts.
Dr. Wholth nods. “Then perhaps that’s what we should do.”
“You want me to break your logic board?” Waldemar questions.
“No. I want you to find a healthy way to explore your urges and compulsions. You told me about your virtual honeymoon, and you told me about the game that you invented, but it doesn’t sound like you use such technology regularly.”
“Well, there’s nothing to do in VR,” he starts to explain. “Nothing is real. Even if you’re presented with problems to fix, the best solution to every single one of them is to simply log off. So I just don’t see the purpose.”
She sets her pencil and paper down, showing more of the lingerie she’s wearing. He just feels more comfortable talking to people like this, whether they’re real or not. He thinks it’s because she looks more vulnerable, and less of a threat to him. “People tend to require more than what is immediately around them. Have you ever heard of deep space hermits?” She poses.
“Yeah, they’re the guys who hollow out an asteroid, and just live alone for centuries. Doesn’t sound so bad. If I had no ambition...”
“If all they wanted to do was survive, they could live for millions of years off of that one asteroid. They would have a bed if they were still organic enough to sleep. They would have food, water, basic life support. They could recycle their waste, and never need anything else. Their habitat could be the size of your water closet. But what kind of life is that? It’s worse than a simulation, because there’s not even the illusion of something happening. They always have VR, AR, and-or larger infrastructure to provide them with stimuli. It may sound like they went out there to be alone, but they instead go out to be in control. Your problem, Captain Kristiansen is you don’t have very much control. Sure, you’re in charge, but you rely on others to make things happen. You need them to make their own decisions, or things will fall apart. You can’t handle it all on your own, and I don’t think you would want to. But if you really want to feel in control, you need to construct your own world to inhabit. You won’t live there permanently, but it might be a nice escape. You’re still human, Captain. Your brain is wired differently, but you share a lot of traits with others. I think you get so wrapped up in what sets you apart that you miss the similarities.”
“Well, the program would have to be isolated, like you. I wouldn’t feel free if other users can show up, and see what I’m doing.”
“That goes without saying,” Dr. Wholth says. “I could help you write the program, so we don’t have to involve anyone else. There’s more than enough extra room on my data drives for a single, original environment. We could even hold sessions in there. I know you sweep this room for bugs every day. Those wouldn’t matter in the construct. It would all be in your head...and mine, so to speak.”
“I could hurt people in a judgment free zone? I could make any choice I wanted.”
“Exactly,” Dr. Wholth confirmed. “I said I could be there, but it doesn’t have to be in my capacity as a therapist, or not every time. I have other characteristics. I could be your friend, your lover, even your enemy. You explore parts of yourself that you can’t in the real world, and when you log out, you go back to your regular life. All of that pent up aggression has been released, and no one has to see it. No one has to know. I think it would make you a better captain. I think it would make you a better leader. If you want to raise morale, it starts at the top. When you’re stressed out, so is everyone else. You need to show them what happiness looks like.”
“I don’t really do happiness,” he reminds her.
“No, that’s not true,” she claims, shaking her head. “You can be happy. It’s a common misconception that people with personality disorders don’t have emotions. You absolutely do. You just need to learn better what they look like on the outside. You’ve been doing a great job. Silveon helped you, Audrey helped, even Sable helped with that. And of course I have. But there’s something else in the background that’s holding you back from greatness. Let the simulations pull that off of you, so you can become your best self. I’m not trying to change you into someone else, just the better you.”
“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” Waldemar decides. “I’m in. We won’t start today, though. Go back in your little box so I can get back to work. We’ll talk later.”
“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” she says respectfully before flickering off.
“Ugh, I thought she would never leave.” Sable appears from the bathroom.
Waldemar jumps to his feet. “How long have you been there?”
She smirks. “Long enough to know that VR isn’t going to help. You’re too smart. You’ll always know it’s not real.” She approaches slowly, almost sexily.
“I don’t know what you think you heard...” he begins to argue.
“Shh.” She places a finger upon his lips. “Relax. You think I didn’t know what you were when I met you?” She grabs his arm muscles. “A big strong man like you runs on pure testosterone.” She growls.
“What do you want, Sable?” They’ve not slept together in the last few weeks. He just kind of got tired of that too.
“Kill me,” she offers. “You want to feel something real? Kill me. I can take it.” What the hell does that mean, she can take it?
“I’m not going to do that.” He might have to, though.
Sable giggles. “Fine. Then I guess I’ll go make an announcement over the PA system, telling everyone what you really are.”
Okay. Now he does have to stop her. But he’ll just put her in his private brig until he can figure out what to do with her. He takes her by the wrist so she can’t teleport away. She spins around as she’s pulling a pocketknife out of her pants, and jams it into his leg. She giggles again. So he does what she asks, and kills her. Dr. Wholth might have been wrong. Even this has lost its charm. He may be getting tired of hurting people too.

Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Microstory 2192: How Frivolous

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor
This is a very delicate period of time in this process, and I won’t be able to say much as these offers go out. It’s not like I’ll be able to summarize the conversations I’m having with my future staff members (or not, as it were). Luckily, I have something else to tell you about today. Well, two things, actually. You remember my parole officer, Leonard Miazga, right? I didn’t really think that I would see him again, but it seems that we’ll be working together at the jail. He’s been hired by the county to work on that side, so he won’t serve directly under me, but he’ll be in the meetings with us, along with the correctional officer, and the reentry specialist. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t named him on this site. Of course, the government knew who my P.O. was, but reading about him in my blog posts sort of stuck him in their brains, so when they were deciding who to hire, he was the first candidate that they thought of. Don’t worry, it was a fair process, but he ended up being the best for the job. You can guess why; because he’s not just a jerk who feels like he’s suffering through his work every day. He cares about his parolees, and that much was clear both from my anecdotes, and also his interview, as well as his references and résumé, I’m sure. The second announcement is that the lawsuit against me has been officially dropped. The company who sued me on the grounds that I damaged their reputation even though I never told you who they were finally relented. It’s shocking how long it took for them to realize how frivolous their case was. So now that it’s over, I’ll tell you who it was. Lol, psych! I still won’t, because that would be equal parts dumb and mean-spirited. I just want to lock the memory of the ordeal in my past, and leave it there. They’re doing fine, and I’m doing amazing, so there’s nothing left to talk about anymore. That’s all I got. What’s up with you?

Saturday, November 18, 2023

Extremus: Year 66

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
Arqut wanted to pretend like he never professed his love to her last year, and Tinaya decided to respect that. They could revisit their respective feelings at a later date if he ever felt comfortable enough for it. In the meantime, it’s not like she’s going to entertain other suitors. If she were ever going to settle down with anyone, it would be with someone like him. She already knows him, and they have a rapport. She’s the First Chair, and doesn’t have time to hunt around, looking for love. Yeah, it sounds very impersonal, but again, that’s not what she’s looking for. If it finds her, then fine, but she can’t let it distract from her responsibilities. Though, if Cleader is to be believed, a relationship wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world right now. It is an election year, and her tenure is up for renewal. She needs all the help she can get, because incumbency comes at a price. She’s not allowed to campaign for reëlection. The way the founders thought of it, a civil servant’s duty is to serve their office, not to concern themselves with retaining that office. All sorts of problems throughout the history of politics might have been solved or subverted if elected officials did their goddamn jobs, instead of spending all their time trying to keep them.
So it’s been a stressful time, because Cleader continues to push Tinaya towards making herself look her best for the electorate, and while that doesn’t qualify as campaigning, just the strategy meetings she’s had to endure with him have become tedious and annoying. As predicted, her approval rating has dropped in recent months. She’s still slated to win at the end of the year, but it’s going to be tighter than she would like. But if she loses, it will be okay. She will not crawl back into the hole she lived in after she failed to get into college. She’ll do everything she can to make this ship, and the journey they’re all on together, safe, enjoyable, and productive.
There is no exception to the rule that prevents Tinaya from campaigning for herself, but there is nothing to stop others from doing it for her. Any private citizen has the right to free speech, and that speech may include their political affiliations, and the candidates who they support. Everyone has their fanbase, and Tinaya has a particularly vocal one. The thing is, though, she’s not allowed to meet any of these people, at least not within the context of their campaign efforts on her behalf. It is reasonable for the First Chair to meet her constituents, to discuss their needs or whathaveyou, but only as long as it doesn’t raise any suspicion that she’s involved in her own reëlection endeavors. Her doorbell chimes, and she answers it.
“Miss Kurosawa, this is highly irregular.” She’s the spearhead for Tinaya’s campaign. She’s not supposed to be anywhere near this office.
Avril nods. “Well, it’s unusual, but I have a good reason. If I promise that this does not break any policies or laws, can I come in for a chat?”
Tinaya thinks about what to do. She lifts her watch to her lips. “Call Hozan Peck.”
Hozan Peck here,” the voice comes in from her watch.
“Could you please teleport to my office?”
Right away, sir.” He appears.
“Mr. Peck, would you please sit in on our meeting?”
As Head of Ethics, he’s just as surprised to see Avril Kurosawa here, but he knows that both of them know the rules, so if this meeting is happening, calling him was the right thing to do. He doesn’t feel the need to argue that this shouldn’t happen at all, because there must be a decent reason. “Certainly.”
Tinaya goes back to behind her desk while the other two sit opposite her. “Miss Kurosawa, could you tell me what this is about?”
“I am here to tell you that I can no longer lead your civilian campaign.”
“Now, it’s not mine,” Tinaya argues. “Mr. Peck, the two of us have never spoken to each other before today. I want to assure you that—”
“Yes, yes, yes, I believe you. Go on, Miss Kurosawa.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe in you anymore,” Avril continues. “I just feel that I can do better. I have been studying your career since it began, and it has prepared me for civil service in surprising ways. I’m confident that I can be an even better First Chair than you. You have been focused in recent years in maintaining the status quo, and I think we should begin to focus on improvement. As your former campaign leader, I was unable to voice my concerns to you directly, which is a sacrifice I willingly made at the time, but what my partner has helped me realize is that my ideas should not be silenced, and the best way for me to see them through is to become the one who can enact them. I am here as a courtesy before my public announcement to inform you first that I will be running for your seat this year.”
Normally, Avril’s decision would be considered a bit late. This is not in any legal sense, of course. She could submit her name to the ballot on the day before the vote if she wanted to. It’s just that most people need time to get their name into the public consciousness. In this case, however, she might be okay, because her shift in loyalty will likely cause a stir, and expedite the process. It’s not impossible that this was her intention all along; stepping up to become Tinaya’s biggest fan just so she can popularize herself without getting lost in a sea of other candidates. There is no limit to the number of people who can be on the ballot. One year in history, there were thirty-one names in total, which caused a division, and ultimately made it difficult for the winner to feel like he earned it, but there was nothing he could have done to stop it.
Avril has a point, that Tinaya did more for the ship before becoming First Chair than she has in the last two and a half years in this position. Now she kind of wishes that she could say something to the people—to make them promises about what she’ll do for them in the future. But it’s too late for that now. It would be construed as campaigning, or actually be rightfully considered campaigning, and she’s always agreed with that policy on principle, even before she worked for the government. The people have the right to trust that their leaders care more about the happiness and stability of the state than their own self-interest. She still believes that, but at least a campaign would give her something to do. This period of peace barely stumbled even when Tamm was ousted. Maybe that’s what she’s worried most about; that people will elect her opponent only because they’re bored.
But now she has a new opponent, with a different take on how things should be done. It is logical to presume that there are others who feel as Avril does. In fact, Avril probably wouldn’t be here today if she didn’t put out feelers to see what others were thinking. She knows the voters well. She’s built her career upon. She would do a good job if elected. No, Tinaya has nothing to worry about. A win for either one of them would be a win for Extremus. She can’t say the same thing about the other four candidates currently on the ballot, but this one is good people. And right now, it’s time for civility, and most importantly, brevity. There is no need to drag this conversation out. She stands up, and offers her hand. “Thank you for informing me. Good luck on your future endeavors.”
Avril stands up, and shakes Tinaya’s hand. She appears to want to breathe a sigh of relief that Tinaya didn’t jump over the desk, and start ripping Avril’s hair out, and start chewing on it, but she’s worried that this is a trick.
“Really, it’s fine, Miss Kurosawa. Never let anyone feel that you’ve made the wrong decision. I look forward to hearing your ideas, because—forgive me for being blunt—no matter who wins, any good ideas will see the light of day.”
Now Avril’s even more scared, as is Hozan Peck. “Careful, Chairwoman...”
Tinaya needs to backpedal a little. “Don’t worry, either of you. I’m not going to tell the populace that anything you can do, I can do better. That’s just what I’m telling you. I mean, not better, just also. They’ll vote for who they want to vote for, but if I end up winning again, I’m not going to ignore a good idea just because it came from someone else. That would be...unfair to the people. I should stop talking.”
“You were on the line,” Hozan warns, standing up as well, “but you didn’t cross it.” He turns to face Avril to reiterate, “she didn’t cross it.” Now it’s going to be harder for Avril to use this interaction against Tinaya in the future. Thank you, Hozan Peck.
Avril closes her eyes, and nods. “Good luck to you too.” She taps on her watch, and disappears.
Tinaya scratches at the back of her neck. “I do need to be more careful.”
Hozan pulls a portable drive out of his bag, and hands it to her. “It’s a VR simulation filled with ethically questionable scenarios.”
“I’ve done these all before.” It’s required in school, and as a condition for her role as First Chair. Virtual reality is a great way to teach people concepts in literally any conceivable environment without going through the trouble of actually building that environment. It’s especially helpful on ships, where resources are limited, and space is at a premium.
“They’re new programs, created by the next generation of programmers and designers. You apparently need a refresher anyway. They’re what the other candidates will be experiencing in the coming months.”
“Thanks. There’s always more to learn.”
He nods. “Goodbye, Chairwoman Leithe.” Most people don’t call the First Chair Chairwoman or Chairman, but some prefer the sharpness of morphologically shorter language. He teleports away.
That night, Avril does as she warned, and announces her intentions, shocking many. As the broadcast is running, Tinaya’s doorbell chimes again, but she’s in her stateroom now. She finds Arqut on the other side of the door. “I just heard, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine,” she replies sincerely. “If I lose, I would be glad it was her.”
“You won’t lose, not once we institute the plan.”
“What’s the plan,” Tinaya asks, emphasizing the words just like him, as if there’s something special about this particular plan, whatever it is.
“I wasn’t joking last year; I do love you, and I think you don’t absolutely detest my company either. If you would be willing, we could boost your polling with news of a new relationship. They’ll forget all about the other candidates within a week. Now, I know you don’t feel as strongly about me, but I think that we have to do something to respark people’s interest in your. Is that even a word, respark? Anyway, as I was say—
She pulls him into a hug “Let’s do it. But not just as part of some kind of plan. I’m sick of being alone, and I’m sick if you avoiding me.”

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Microstory 1962: Arrival

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
OSI Director Lotte Washington: Hello, I’m OSI Director—
Henley: Lotte Washington. You’re early. Agent Flynn was meant to escort you from the parking garage.
Director Washington: Yes, my schedule changed. I have too much to do this afternoon, so I decided to come before lunch. I hope that’s okay.
Henley: That’s quite all right. My name is Henley Grahame; receptionist. We would normally print out a badge for you, but we don’t have a machine yet. I have created this check-in list, though, so we’ll be able to keep track of who comes in and out. I don’t want you to worry about our security.
Director Washington: It’s fine. Just point me in the direction of Agent Parsons. We have some urgent business to take care of.
Henley: Yes, of course. Right away. Uhh... *fumbling with the phone* No, that’s not it. Let’s see...page, zero—no, wait. First it’s star, then page.
Director Washington: You don’t have to make an announcement. I’ve taken a cursory glance at the floor plans. I’ll just go up to his office.
Henley: No, wait. That’s not part of our procedures. I swear we’ve come up with them, I just need to find the binder I’ve started. Anaïs! Your name is Anaïs, right?
Anaïs Altimari: *sees Director Washington* Oh, it’s Agent Altimari, Miss Grahame.
Henley: Right. Of course. Would you please take the Director to Agent Parsons’ office?
Anaïs: Certainly. Right this way, sir.
Director Washington: I really can find him myself. But very well, lead the way.
Anaïs: *runs into Timotei* Oh, pardon. Mr. Barber, this is OSI Director Washington.
Timotei: *shaking her hand* Nice to meet you. Timotei Barber, formerly incarcerated, now Head of Procurement. Let me know if you need anything.
Anaïs: *scowling at him* Thank you. You can get back to work now.
Timotei: I’m on lunch. I just can’t take it in the break room, because Navin is sleeping in the other room, and I like to watch my stories while I eat my beans.
Anaïs: *horrified* Oh, he—
Director Washington: ...has anemia. Yes, I’m aware. It’s quite all right. I just need to speak with Agent Parsons. It’s becoming rather urgent.
Timotei: Aren’t you here to take a look at the building? I could show you around. There’s a stall in the restroom that doesn’t quite close.
Anaïs: That’s not why she’s here, Mr. Barber. We’re looking for Parsons.
Timotei: Perfect! I just saw him in the bathroom.
Reese: I’m here, I’m here! Director Washington, welcome to the Department for Exogenic Affairs Headquarters. I trust that everything has gone okay so far?
Director Washington: It’s been fine. You appear to have a good team. You’ll need that soon. Is there somewhere you and I can talk, with Miss Tennison and Mr. Miazga?
Reese: Yes, of course. Please follow me to my office. Thank you Agent Altimari, and Mr. Barber. You can get back to work.
Timotei: I’m on lunch!
Reese: *dismissively* Okay, bye!