Showing posts with label astronomy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label astronomy. Show all posts

Saturday, October 3, 2026

Spaghetti West: The Three-Body Problem (Part II)

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When Pribadium Delgado’s father was seven years old, he was staying with his grandparents while his parents went on a boring business trip in Iowa. Valde loved staying over there, especially since they lived two hours away, making it a rare treat. He was particularly close with his grandfather, because he was a young soul. One thing they loved to do was have the grandfather hold Valde’s hands and spin him around like a helicopter. They would do it all the time in the park across the street. Not everyone was happy about it.
A neighbor was fed up with their fun, so she called family services, citing the danger. Of course, this did not constitute abuse or neglect, but it still meant they had to stop, because the grandfather did not want to antagonize this woman. This saddened Valde, so he begged the grandfather to do it again. They knew the busybody would be watching, though, so they decided to give it a shot in the house, and it did not go well.
Their hands slipped from each other, and Valde went flying through the air. His head slammed against the wall, cracking them both open, and giving Valde permanent brain damage. He got through it, and ended up having a fairly happy life, growing up to have a family of his own. He couldn’t be alone with his own kids until they were old enough to kind of take care of themselves, but he wasn’t abusive, just easily distracted. The grandfather, on the other hand, couldn’t deal with the guilt. After years of heavy drinking, he either fell, or jumped off, a cliff. They were never sure which.
Pribadium’s mother was an astrophysicist, which was what got Pribadium interested in science. Her mother always called the tragedy the three-body problem, likening the grandfather, the grandson, and the wall to celestial bodies. She noted the wonder in the universe, and used the story to teach Pribadium a valuable lesson. Well, multiple lessons, really. The first was social and behavioral, which was obvious. The deeper lesson, however, was about gravity.
Outer space was monumentally huge. Most of it was made up of dark energy, which was basically just another word for space. Baryonic matter only took up a small fraction of the composition, yet...objects struck each other all the time. Galaxies were literally colliding. Thanks to gravity. Gravity was responsible for making life possible. It held things together, where otherwise there would just be a bunch of random particles flying individually through empty space. But it was still good to have space. If Valde and his grandfather had been allowed to swing around in the park, they would not have been so restricted, and Valde would not have crashed into a wall.
Now Pribaidum was grown up, and had been for centuries. Her parents were long dead, and she didn’t know where her brother was. She went by Sugar now, and had an entirely new face, in order to distinguish her from the Pribadium native to this time. Even though she had all of Pribadium’s memories up to a point, she sometimes felt like a brand new person. She could be too blunt about things, and even a little emotionally attached. It wasn’t her fault, news didn’t surprise her as much as it did to others. And she always preferred to just get right down to the point.
“A black hole?” Liselot asked. “A stellaris collapsis?”
“No. Planetary-mass; possibly primordial,” Sugar clarified. She had gone ahead and started constructing the defense platforms to orbit Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida, but now she was going to have to halt the process and reprogram them. The basic design was just fine, but ablation lasers weren’t going to work for this situation, and they needed a denser solution to the spherical covering problem; probably dynamic.
“Possibly?” Liselot questioned. “What do you mean? What else would it be?”
“It could be a Kugelblitz,” Sugar answered. “Have you never heard of them?”
“I’m an astronomer, of course I have. It’s only recently become feasible for humanity to make one, though. If someone made it, we would have noticed, because in order for it to be passing through our system right now, it would have needed to form practically in our backyard. So unless you’re suggesting aliens are real... Wait, are you suggesting that aliens are real?”
Sugar had to ignore that question. “I need more time to study it. I still don’t know if it’s charged yet. That will tell me how we deal with it. I need to get closer.”
Liselot shook her head in disbelief. “Oh yeah, sure. Get closer to the singularity that just destroyed a moon and a planet in one fell swoop. Have fun, try not to get spaghettified, don’t forget to bring a towel. Will you be home in time for dinner?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll stay a couple hundred kilometers out. We’ll park, fire a few procession probes, and gather the data. Yes, we will be home for this proverbial dinner.”
“I’m coming with you,” Liselot insisted.
“No, that’s okay,” Sugar offered, knowing that it wasn’t really a request.
Liselot winced. “This is my planet, my responsibility. If you kick me off of your ship, I’ll just get my own, and pilot fish my way alongside you. They’re not expensive.”
Van was walking back on the bridge. “Read her in,” he encouraged. “It’s not illegal for non-travelers to know about this stuff, or I wouldn’t know. Read her in.”
Sugar breathed through her nose and considered it. Liselot was correct, this wasn’t their world. They needed help and approval from someone who lived here, and the Axiom of Astronomy was their best option. It already appeared like they could trust her. So Sugar nodded and cleared her throat to be blunt and aggressive again. “Time travel is real. Some people are born with the neurology necessary to hack the universe to manipulate timespace in one way or another. Others, like me—and now you—fell into the time traveler community.”
“Oh, she’s being modest,” Van says. “Sugar here invented her own, unique form of time travel. It’s entirely incompatible with how everyone else does it. Which means it’s protected from their vulnerabilities.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Sugar argued. “I...my brain connected to a primordial knowledge floating around the universe, from a different universe. It’s like—that’s what the cosmic microwave background radiation is. Someone else invented it, I found it.”
“Like transcendentalism?” Liselot asks. “You know that Bidans are essentially transcendentalists, right? We worship knowledge and science.”
“I didn’t give it much thought,” Sugar replied. “I try to stay away from religion.” She paused in a brief silence. “So you’re not freaking about learning the truth about reality. Do you just not believe it?”
Liselot smiled softly. “Many in our culture suspect that it’s real. In the year 2400, the collective knowledge of the known galaxy exploded unpredictably. I mean, just look at how fast a new substrate can be built on Castlebourne, and the artificial gravity on The Tangent. Actually, it must be the reason for the artificial gravity on our planet. Time travel would explain a ton of these leaps in understanding, wouldn’t it? It vindicated a lot of our beliefs about secret a priori knowledge, and now I’m in the inner circle.”
“Hm,” Van says. “I think she’s all right with it.”
“This is what you were afraid to tell me?” Liselot questions. “I’m sure if you spent time in Victorian England, you might be afraid to out yourself, but I think you’ll find if you’re honest with people in the modern world, they’ll be more receptive and calm.”
“It’s more complicated than that. Telling one person isn’t illegal,” Sugar explained. “Telling everyone is, because it’s a unilateral decision which robs others of consent. There’s a prison. If I were to make a broadcast announcement, they would undo that, throw me in prison, and potentially never let me out. I don’t even have to be the one to make that announcement if there’s a risk that you will, or if you go blabbing to your therapist, and they do it.”
“I understand, I know how to keep a secret,” Liselot assured them. “I’m sure there’s a lot more to know, but I’m guessing you needed to quote-unquote read me in because you’re not just gonna throw procession probes at the singularity.”
“Uh, no,” Sugar confirmed. “We’re gonna get a lot closer than I said. This ship was built with transdimensional shielding, which will protect us from the dangers of high gravity, though we could end up experiencing minor time dilation.”
“I’ve experienced relativistic dilation before,” Liselot says. “I went on a cruise around H-Gimura-11 in my youth. Lost eleven years.”
Sugar smirked. “I personally know Hokusai Gimura, from before she discovered HG-11. She was my mentor; introduced me to all of this.”
“Small world,” Liselot decided. “So are we going?”
Sugar looked over at Vantu and nodded lightly.
He teleported the ship away. “Now orbiting S-Delgado-1.”
Sugar rolled her eyes. “We are not calling it that.”
“We have to,” Van reasoned. “You discovered it.”
“If it’s a Kugelblitz,” Sugar argued as she was calibrating the sensors, “That means they discovered it.”
“I don’t see them here,” Van fired back. “We’ve still not proved it yet anyway.”
Sugar shook her head. “Would you just open the exterior spectrometers?”

They ran the sensors and gathered the data, ultimately confirming that it was indeed Kugelblitz. They didn’t know who made it, or where it came from, but now Sugar knew how to deflect it. Unless it was sent here intentionally as a weapon, they could fire ionic pulses at it, and get it to move out of the system. It only took a few weeks to complete the array, and that was all they did. They scrapped the full orbital defense complement, which was something this planet should have had the whole time. A Kugelblitz black hole was more dangerous than a primordial one. They didn’t have time to protect the globe against all threats. They needed to be offensive, and concentrate their efforts in one spot on the celestial firmament.
It took a couple of days for Sugar to be confident that they had pushed the object clear, so it didn’t cause further damage. If they had shot the black hole head on, each shot would have taken an immense amount of energy to make it reverse directions. By constantly striking it on the edge, they conserved that energy, and used it more wisely. They just wanted to change its course enough so that it moved out of Tau Ceti space. Now that that was done, they could focus on the debris from Qishra. That was their ongoing, long term problem, but it was possible to keep them at bay, especially once they did finally cover the sky in those defenses.
The world rejoiced and partied, and Sugar was happy for them, but then something new came up on their sensors. “This is impossible.”
“What is it?” Van asked.
“It’s the black hole. It’s...back.”
“So it is a weapon,” Van determined. “Someone’s controlling it.”
“I don’t see how,” Sugar argued. “We should be able to detect them, and what would be the motive?”
“Should we call Liselot?”
Sugar sighed. “She has a right to know. Just give me one moment to check something.” She frowned at the screens as she waited for her long-range sensors to respond. Her eyes widened when the information came in.
“What? I don’t understand what I’m seeing here.”
Sugar looked up at Van hovering over her shoulder. “That’s what you called S-Delgado-1.”
“Oh, okay.”
“It’s moving away.”
“Oh, so false alarm. We’re good.”
While still staring at him, Sugar reached up and tapped the screen to switch to a different readout. “If we’re sticking with the same naming convention, we might have to name this one S-Delgado-2.”

Saturday, September 26, 2026

Spaghetti West: Moonfall (Part I)

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Decades ago, a star called Proxima Centauri underwent a cataclysmic magnetic shift, which created a coronal mass ejection that decimated the orbiting planet of Proxima Doma. Proxima Doma was tidally locked, which meant one side always faced the sun, and one side always faced away. Only a narrow band was ever habitable, but as it turned out, not for long. What researchers now believed was that this event was the culmination of a centuries-long cycle. Over time, the habitable zone along the terminator line will stabilize, and become survivable once more. It had already begun to do that. There was still no atmosphere, so it required intelligent intervention, and for some, this was enough, but not for most. They wanted something permanently safe.
While the cycle was meaningfully long for a baseline human, it was a flash in the pan for an immortal, and unsustainable for a community. Why put down roots when you knew they were going to be destroyed eventually? People died in that tragedy. Many stayed on the poles, which were the only permanently safe regions, but this made space commutes unreasonably costly. So the majority of the survivors left.
They went all over the stellar neighborhood, but the primary destination was the Gatewood Collective. Gatewood was a materials depot, which was designated to provide colonists with the resources they needed to go wherever their final destination was. No one was meant to live there who didn’t work as the managers of the depot. One faction from Proxima Doma wasn’t happy with that. They wanted to stay, so they tried to lay claim to one of the extremely inhospitable planets. These were more stable and consistent than Doma, but still harsh. And anyway, they were about to be annihilated.
After some political turmoil, the captain of a transport vessel agreed to relocate these holdouts to another planet. They wanted one to call their own, but if they didn’t want to die, they would compromise for their own secluded region of a preexisting colony. This one orbited Tau Ceti, and was called Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. It wasn’t the only planet in the system, but it was the only habitable one, and that was thanks to a particularly uninhabited world called Qishra.
Sugar Delgado stood on the bridge of her ship with the Axiom of Astronomy, Liselot Olteanu. They were regarding a terrible sight through the viewscreen. “Magnify more,” Sugar instructs the computer.
That was definitely a moon, and it was definitely far too close to the planet.
“Not to blame or criticize,” Sugar went on, “but you didn’t see it coming?”
“Qishra orbits the star slowly, and the moon is moving fast. For the majority of the time, the moon was behind the planet. Even if we had seen it coming, there still isn’t anything we could have done about it. Some researchers think that it’ll be a near-miss.”
“You don’t,” Sugar stated.
Liselot held both of her fists up and presented a crude demonstration. “If Qishra were the eightball, and the moon was the cueball, yes, the geometry says it would miss.”
Sugar nodded. “But the Roche limit.”
“The Roche limit,” Liselot echoed. “You have to account for the gravity. The two bodies are being drawn together, and they will crash into each other. Now, it’s not a Theia event, but it will be enough to cause chaos. We can’t model what will happen to the planet once the rogue moon strikes. The most widely accepted model has the majority of the moon being ejected from the system while Qishra begins to form a ring.”
“But it won’t stop there,” Sugar deduced.
“The collision will add mass to the planet, which will only help it do its job to protect us, but over time, the chaos will increase, and it could start to shoot us.”
“But you don’t know.” Sugar wasn’t arguing, Not knowing was the scary part, because, given their technology, there was nothing they could do to protect themselves besides leave. And that will be logistically difficult, even if the first impact took months.
This world was a haven for those who wanted to live on a planet, but still wanted the simple, isolated life. There was only one city, mainly for coming and going. Nearly everyone lived in villages or homesteads. Some areas had such perfect weather that they didn’t even have permanent structures. A nomad might walk around with their tech and a tent, and that was it. People moved here because they liked to be alone with nature.
“No, we don’t know. It could take years, or it could take decades, but either way, I would not want to live here if I were a Domanian refugee,” Liselot reasoned.
Sugar shook her head. “You don’t know these people. They were fully cognizant that their new planet, Doma Tertia, was going to intentionally be destroyed, but they refused to leave. We only finally got them off of it because they are fiercely loyal to their leader, so we only had to convince him to stop being stubborn and stupid.”
“Then tell him to tell the others to get right back on your ship and leave here too.”
Sugar sighed. “He’s not here. He persuaded them to leave, but had somewhere else to go. Now they can only operate on his most recent orders. It’s bizarre.”
“For a group of isolationists, they sure are dependent,” Liselot pointed out. “Sorry to be blunt about that.”
“No, you’re right. I don’t like them, I just got stuck with them,” Sugar explained.
“Some Bidans have packed up and left because of this threat,” Liselot added. “I mean, our population was already dwindling because people want to check out Castlebourne, or because they’re choosing Varkas Reflex over VR around nature. Some, however, report being afraid of Armageddon. It’s my job to give them the facts, and the fact is that we don’t have enough information yet, and once we do, it may be too late.”
“You called it a rogue moon,” Sugar pointed out. “Which planet is it from?”
Liselot smiled. She was actually rather excited about this. “We think it’s from Qishra. We think the planet ejected it millions of years ago, and it’s been rogue ever since, wandering the outer system this whole time. Which means it’s—”
“Coming home,” they said simultaneously. Then they were silent for a moment.
“I hope you weren’t thinking that we could help with evacuation efforts,” Sugar said, breaking the ice. This was a transport vessel, but it didn’t have unlimited capacity. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. With enough power, they could expand inward into pocket dimensions. But it could still not support the whole population of this planet, and none of them was authorized to know about that kind of tech in the first place.
“No,” Liselot assured her. “We may prefer nature, but the reason the city exists, and why my job exists, is because we understand that the universe is a dangerous place. Most who do want to leave are transferring their consciousnesses through the quantum network. We’re building deep underground shelters for those who want to stay, and constructing exodus ships for those who wanna leave in their own bodies with their own possessions. What we were hoping was that you could prevent the chaotic ejections that will follow. New ring systems are violent and unpredictable. With your weapons—”
“I don’t have any weapons,” Sugar argued.
“Forgive me, captain,” Liselot said. “Our sensors clearly indicate one.”
Sugar painted a puzzled look on her face. “Oh, that’s a hot pocket purge.”
“I’m sorry?” Now Liselot was the one who was confused.
“It’s a stealth feature,” Sugar began to explain. “You store your waste heat in a special contained environment, then you can purge it all at once when you’re, say, on the other side of a star, or something. You’re practically invisible in between purges.”
“That sounds like it could be used as a weapon,” Liselot contended.
“Yeah, but not for what you’re asking,” Sugar insisted. “It’s not anywhere near as powerful as the kind of nuclear bombs you would require. It can’t hold enough energy to accomplish that. I’m sorry. If I had realized your intentions, I wouldn’t have wasted—”
“No, it’s my fault. I listened to what my experts said they detected on your ship.” Liselot frowns and breathes through her nose. “Thank you. I’ll leave now.”
“Hold on,” Sugar said. “It will take months for the ring to form and become a real threat. Just because I don’t have what you need, doesn’t mean I can’t build it. At the very least, you need to construct orbital defense platforms with ablation lasers. Earth has been using those for centuries, and it’s worked out for them.”
“Earth has never faced the kind of onslaught we could have on our hands,” Liselot said. “Jupiter has always been stronger than Qishra. That’s why intelligent life was able to evolve on it in the first place. And their monitoring infrastructure is leagues beyond ours simply by its age. We knew what we were getting into when we colonized. Tau Ceti is a volatile system. This should come as no surprise. We were foolish.”
“Still,” Sugar urged, “you need ablation lasers, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I just don’t know that we have time.”
Sugar smirked. “Well...we store time in the stern.”
“Huh?” Liselot questioned.
Sugar had already said too much. “I have the design for an excellent defense platform in my privilege vault. It’s got a lot of bells and whistles that you don’t need right now, so I’ll take a day to modify it. All I’ll need are the raw materials.”
Liselot held a minute to think about it. “We’ll accept anything we can get.”
“Great.” Sugar tapped behind her ear. “Van. Come to the bridge please.”
Van teleported there instantly.
“Whoa. How did you do that?” Liselot asked him.
“Uh, he’s only a hologram,” Sugar lied. “Van, I need you to be able to make physical contact, so please turn off your imager and come back in person.”
“Sorry, boss.” Vantu disappeared.
“I could have sworn that I could feel his physical presence,” Liselot claimed. “Maybe even the warmth of his core.”
“Magnets!” Sugar joked.
Liselot breathed deeply and looked back over at the impending collision. “You really think we can do this? I know we don’t have to worry about something happening tomorrow, but we’re intentionally obsolete. We should have made the city bigger.”
Sugar watched the event too. “I can do this. Trust me, it’s no big deal.”
It was a big deal. The moon itself was nothing, but it turned out to be hiding something much, much worse. No laser could destroy a black hole. But it could move it.

Sunday, August 31, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 2, 2515

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The team was sitting around their table. It was the end of the engagement party, and only a few people were still around. Darko was in the middle of a seemingly flirtatious conversation with one of the android waitresses whose self-awareness and agency were in question. Mateo was about to ask if there was any way of determining whether she could provide consent when a black hole suddenly appeared on the opposite wall. A woman stepped out who looked moderately familiar. The first words out of her mouth were, “okay, I’ll do it, but I want something in return.”
“What?” Leona questioned. “Were we in the middle of a conversation? You’ll do what for us? Who are you again?”
“I’m Magnolia Quintana?” she reminded them. “The Overseer?”
“Oh, right, yeah, we met,” Leona remembered. “Is there an operation here, or something? This is just Party Central.”
“Yes, if this is where you’re gonna have the wedding,” Magnolia said. She looked around the room. “Little small.”
Leona did her best impression of Mr. Spock’s eyebrows. “We’re gonna have it outdoors, and not tonight, and...this is only one room in an entire city of party venues.”
Magnolia pulled out an old fashioned pen and notepad set. She took notes out loud. “Okay. Outdoors. Party Central. At least one year to plan.”
“Are you offering to be our wedding planner?” Olimpia questioned.
“Not offering,” Magnolia said. “Got the job. Very excited. Already have some great ideas rolling around up here.” She tapped her head with her pen.
“Madam Quintana,” Mateo began. “We were just gonna plan this ourselves. It’s not gonna be as big as our last wedding. Only family and close friends.”
Magnolia dropped her hands in disappointment, and sighed. “I need your help.” She was very uncomfortable. “I obviously need you more than you need me.”
“Well, we might be able to just help you,” Leona offered. “You don’t have to do anything for us. What do you need?”
“I need you to find my son,” Magnolia requested, averting her gaze awkwardly. “I can find anyone in the world, but he shares the same gift, which makes him a blindspot. I know he’s in this time period, but I don’t know where. Honestly, because so many planets have become habitable now, the Great Pyramid Shimmer actually serves a meaningful purpose, so he might not even be on Earth anymore.”
“Is he in trouble?” Romana asked.
Magnolia hesitated to answer. “He’s...mad at me. I just want the chance to apologize. I think he’ll be receptive if I say the right thing, but I have to find him first.”
“Well we can’t really find people,” Leona tried to explain. “I’m sure you’re asking us because you have been made aware of our slingdrives, but they don’t operate on magic. We have to know where we’re going. We’re no better equipped than you with your, uhh...”
“Hither-thithers,” Magnolia finished for her. “That’s what our dark portals are called. And I didn’t come for your slingdrives. I can harness Shimmer myself, and go anywhere he might be. I need his dark particle power to track his location.”
“Not that I won’t agree to that,” Mateo started, “but you just used a special word. Have you not reached out to a genuine Tracker, like Vidar Wolfe?”
“They have the same limitation as me. We can conceal ourselves from such people. I believe that you are the only person in the universe who can see through the shroud.”
“All right.” Mateo wiped his lips with his napkin, then dropped it down on the table. “I’ll see what I can find.” He leaned over and kissed his wife, then leaned over the other direction to kiss his bride.”
“Wait, we have your bachelor party after this,” Ramses reminded him. They decided to get all the traditions out of the way, so the separate celebratory events are falling on the same day as the engagement party, instead of being spread out across 12 to 18 months. Leona will have her doe party, and Olimpia will have a separate bachelorette party. They’ll then reconvene for a bridal shower. A bit out of order, but who cares? “Or no, we’re calling it a bull party.”
“Come with us,” Mateo suggested. “Hey, Darko!” This was Mateo’s chance to not worry about what an encounter with the android would mean, ethically speaking. “Time traveling bull party!”
“I’m in!” his once-brother exclaimed. He turned back to the waitress. “Catch you later, gorgeous.”
“I shouldn’t go with you,” Magnolia decided. “I have some initial work to do to plan your wedding, and Garland may still want me to stay away. I don’t wanna ambush him, so if you could, please tell him that I’m sorry, and ask him if he wants to see me. If he doesn’t, I’ll understand, and I’ll trust that you did find him, and are telling me the truth either way.”
Mateo nodded. “Don’t break your back planning, though. It’s gonna be intimate and low-key. Thanks!”
“No. Thank you.” She was a little too mousy and contrite for someone called The Overseer. This whole thing with her son must really be messing her up. And that wasn’t how she came across a few minutes ago when she first arrived. Maybe she didn’t realize how receptive to her request they would be, and decided to rein in her energy after the deal was done.
The three men stood next to each other in a vague line, and regarded the women still sitting at the table. “Three to beam up.” Dark particles swarmed around them, and sent them away to unknown lands.
As the darkness faded away, the nature of their destination twisted into focus. “Oh, not again,” Ramses groaned. They appeared to be in the middle of a tundra. It wasn’t Tundradome, though. It couldn’t have been. They were standing in what must have been a park, or a town square. There were buildings on all sides of them in the middle distance. This was some kind of city. People were milling about, enjoying the day. No one seemed to have noticed their arrival until they turned all the way around to see a young man sitting on a bench.
He did not have a look of shock on his face, but minor annoyance. “I put a time block on this world,” he said. Still nettled, he closed the cover over his e-reader, and set it down next to him. “No one else should be able to come through. Now I have to check the wards.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mateo tried to explain. “My power is a bit of an exception. I doubt anyone else can come here if you did anything to prevent them.”
“Who would want to?” Ramses jabbed.
“For that.” The young man looked up towards the sky with his eyes as he pointed with a finger.
It took them a moment to possibly figure out what was going on. Scale was a bit hard to determine with this out-of-context problem. It looked like a ceiling of ice that stretched all the way across in every direction, down to the horizon. The fractures and imperfections glimmered in the light from the ground, and maybe even from above as well? Vaguely-shaped circular blobs were hanging in the background, perhaps pulsating, or perhaps they were only illusions. This whole thing might have been a hologram, but it was a good one; reminiscent of something they might find on Castlebourne. Had this frustrated stranger not claimed to be somehow preventing others from traveling here, they might have guessed that it was indeed one of the domes on Castlebourne, which they just so happened to have never heard of before.
“Wait, wait,” Darko began. “I think I’ve heard of this. Epsi...Epson...”
“Epsilon Eridani,” Ramses said. “Roughly eleven light years from Earth. No habitable planet, but a gas giant like Juputer, and a couple of ice giants, similar to Neptune.”
“We’re orbiting the gas giant, AEgir,” the stranger added. “This moon is called Kólga. The surface is inhospitable, so they built a giant hanging city-structure, attached to the ice. What you’re seeing up there is several hundred meters of ice, followed by the daytime sky, in which we can currently see both AEgir and E-E.”
“Where are our manners?” Mateo extended his hand. “Mateo Matic, Darko Matic, and Ramses Abdulrashid.”
“Married or related?”
“Brothers across different timelines,” Darko clarified. “You’ve never heard of us? You’ve never heard of Team Matic?”
“I try to stay out of the whole time travel industry. That’s why I came here. People keep to themselves. They’re as immortal as anyone, but they don’t want to explore. They don’t want to learn. They don’t want to build worlds. They just want to live their lives day by day, century by century. They don’t ask questions, and without them even knowing it, I protect them from the likes of you. I try anyway.”
“We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re just looking for our friend’s son, who we are guessing is you?” Mateo asked.
He nodded. “Garland Dressler. She sent you to take me back to her?”
“No pressure,” Mateo said to him. “She says she wants to apologize. I don’t know what for. I don’t need to know. You don’t have to come with us. If you want us to leave, we will.”
Garland sighed. “You might as well stay a while. You look like you’re in the party mood, and there’s one down the street tonight.”
The three of them looked at each other, narrowing in on Darko, who was wearing a glow necklace that was inert when they came here, but was now twinkling, probably triggered by the time travel event. They were supposed to be partying.
“I’ll think about whether I wanna go back or not,” Garland went on.
“Let’s go get chocolate wasted!” Ramses suggested. He literally started running towards the street.
“Other direction!” Garland called up to him.
Ramses didn’t stop running. He just teleported to the other side of them, and started moving that way instead.
“Do you have a jacket?” Darko asked as the rest of them followed Ramses at a normal pace.
“It’ll be warmer inside,” Garland promised.
They had to call Ramses back again when he passed the entrance to the party venue, but once inside, they had a lot of fun. The other residents took no issue with shifting focus of the festivities to being more about Mateo and his upcoming nuptials. They didn’t go there with a particular reason to party in the first place, so it wasn’t like they were stealing attention from someone else. Garland had been a little inaccurate about why he came here, and didn’t let anyone else. He didn’t only want to protect the Kólgans from time travel, but also to have them all to himself. He was the life of the party, opening up hither-thithers left and right. He helped party-goers throw sports balls at their own asses as fast as possible. He let one guy fall down an endless loop of portals on the ceiling and the floor. Mateo wowed them with a swarm of dark particles before he and Ramses entertained with a holographic lightshow. Darko met a man with combat training, so they sparred in the middle of the floor as the crowd cheered.
They would find out later that the chocolate they were eating was laced with some kind of local drug, which Garland didn’t even know about. They reawoke at some point later with no memory of how the night ended up, but they had some clues to work with. First, they were not likely on Kólga anymore as it was pretty hot here. Secondly, Darko was missing. And finally, passed out next to them was the last person they expected to find. He actually looked rather peaceful there, and they didn’t get the sense that there was any lasting animosity between them. It was Bronach Oaksent.

Tuesday, August 26, 2025

Microstory 2482: Teledome

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This is the biggest known ground-based telescope in existence. They make them bigger, but they’re all floating in space, because that’s the best way to avoid atmospheric distortions, and other artifacts. For those of you not in the know, Earth launched two arrays of telescopes for something called Project Topdown. These are currently on their way out into the two intergalactic voids adjacent to each face of the Milky Way Galaxy. They’re all about the practical applications. I won’t go the details, because you can look it up in the central archives, but I’ll say that the purpose of it is to map our galaxy, as well as peer into the local group, unencumbered by the light and other distractions that come from being within the “border” of our own galaxy. Of course, these are not the only telescopes in existence, and it’s not like we’ll ever dismantle the more local ones in favor of using Topdown exclusively. Earth still has its Bouman Interferometer Array, and other worlds in the stellar neighborhood are working on their own projects. Castlebourne isn’t trying to make any breakthrough discoveries with its Teledome, but it certainly seemed logical to build it anyway. At 5400 square kilometers, the Sugimoto Phased Radio-Optical Telescope takes up nearly the entire area of the dome. You might ask yourself, why is it even under a dome? It shouldn’t need to be. Other telescopes certainly aren’t. Well, dust; that’s why. The space within the confines of the dome is pristine, and very easy to keep well-maintained. If they had to worry about dust storms clogging up the sensors, it would be this huge constant chore. So instead of a geodesic dome, it’s a smooth one. And instead of diamond, it’s made of an ultra-clear polycarbonate. It’s not a single object, however. There are seams in it, but they’re bonded at the molecular level. So if it suffers damage, only that section has to be replaced, but that’s only in the event of catastrophic damage, because it’s just as self-healing as any other metamaterial. As for the telescope itself, the name tells you that it’s both radio and optical. It’s also not made of a single, uniform lens. Nanomodules can shift between states, allowing for the absorption of a wide range of frequencies on the light spectrum. There is an atmosphere on Castlebourne, however thin, and it does create artifacts on the image, but as I’ve been saying, they didn’t engineer this to be perfect. We have plenty of alternatives, and they’re always building more. If you want to see the telescope first hand, you can come here, but obviously, the prospectus includes a live feed of the image, and a constant readout of the data, for your own analysis and synthesis. So you don’t have to come here, but it’s cool to see anyhow, so I still recommend it.

Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Microstory 2338: Vacuus, February 17, 2179

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Dear Condor,

I’m writing to you to let you know that I’m back online, and also that your father did finally send me a letter. I responded to it yesterday, so you probably already know everything by the time you receive this anyway. I don’t really think that I should say anything more; about what he said, or about what I said. I kind of want you two to have your own conversation without me being involved. That’s why I think I’m gonna cut this short. There’s nothing for me to report on this end. The stray Valkyrie blocked our signal for a week, then flew away. The rest of the Valkyries are still orbiting on their usual path. I suppose I shouldn’t say usual as changing course is sort of their whole thing. But we’re safe from them...for now. There’s a slight chance that they will veer off of the predicted orbit, and come at us all at once with a vengeance, but the astronomers are hopeful that this will not happen. I just wanted to warn you that it’s not impossible that any message could be our last. I’ll continue to respond with the non-automated read receipts, and only won’t if it becomes impossible.

Bored again,

Corinthia

Friday, January 31, 2025

Microstory 2335: Vacuus, January 31, 2179

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Dear Condor,

Father has not yet written to me. It’s fine, I’m not disappointed. I don’t know him at all, so I can’t know what I should expect out of him. I just wanted to give you an update before it happens that I’m going to be out of communication range again. It won’t be too long, but it’s out of my hands. You see, when researchers first discovered Vacuus, they thought to send probes here before they sent people. Unfortunately, they lost contact with these probes, and were never able to gather much information about the planet. They obviously decided to just send a manned-mission without enough information, and that’s because the ship they were using was self-sustaining. If, for some reason, it wasn’t possible to reach or land on the surface, it wasn’t like a death sentence. We could have been living on it this whole time. It’s still orbiting us right now, and people regularly go back and forth. I could have gotten a job up there instead. In fact, I told you that I’m the only one doing what I do, but that’s not technically true. Someone is up there right now, using their own instruments to track nearby cosmic events. They just don’t do it for the same reasons, and have other responsibilities. It’s not for safety, they’re mostly studying the effects of deep space survival as it pertains to remoteness from the host star. I kind of forget about them, because we don’t really interact. Anyway, that’s not really important. The point is that, once we arrived here, we discovered why communication with the probes stopped working. It’s because of a periodic meteoroid shower called the Valkyries, which causes a blackout. These meteoroids are very close to one another, and interconnected via weak, yet still impactfully disruptive, electromagnetic fields. It has to do with the ferromagnetic composition of them, and the occasional electrostatic charge that builds up when they scrape against one another. This can last for years, but it’s a relatively rare event, and has only happened twice since Earth sent the probes. What’s not all that rare is when one of these meteors becomes dislodged from the shower, and we end up between it and all its friends. If we’re in the right position, it’s pretty as it’s streaking across the sky, but it’s problematic too. We don’t always know when it’s going to happen, and we don’t always know when it’s going to affect us, but it too knocks out signal transmission, though for a much shorter period of time. Our astronomers have devoted most of their careers to studying these phenomena. At first they thought that the shower was falling apart, but they now believe that the stray meteoroids eventually find their way back to the shower. Earth is aware that this is going to happen, and have upgraded their protocols to account for it. So if you send a message, it will end up being stored in a nearby buffer until the relay station receives word that signal transmission has been restored. I’m sorry to spring this on you so last minute, but if you reply, I doubt that I’ll receive you for a while. Please let your father know as well, thanks.

Hopefully not for long,

Corinthia

Thursday, January 19, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 16, 2398

Leona wasn’t calling Marie and Kivi because she wanted them to try to find her husband in the Mariana Trench. She just wanted to record a census of all the versions of Mateo that they’re currently aware of. The one down there appears to be the only one at the moment, which makes things simpler. The two SD6 teams are free to go off and do their own thing. She’s going to handle this herself, but she needs more data. The global brain scanner that found him operates on two axes. They can get some idea of elevation by measuring the strength of the signal, but it’s impossible to pinpoint a precise location. If she’s going to teleport down to him, she needs to know precisely how deep to go, and where to land, or she’ll end up drowning in the ocean while being crushed by its unyielding thousand atmospheres of pressure.
Ramses has been working on a temporal energy detector capable of surviving the stress of reentry into Earth’s top atmospheric layers, and he’s finally finished. They have decided that this is a perfect opportunity to feed two birds with one worm. The detector will fall to the surface of Earth, measuring the temporal energy fields along the way, as well as hopefully whatever is suppressing that field. It should land in the ocean over the trench, then detach itself from the parachutes, and sink down to look for Mateo.
“About how long will all that take?” Cheyenne asks.
Ramses is monitoring the exterior maintenance robot—or EMR—that’s readying the probe for launch. The ship wasn’t designed for this, so he’s had to improvise a lot of the process. If they’re in a time crunch, that’s all the more reason they can’t rush. “Forty-two minutes and eleven seconds.”
“Oh, so you know exactly how long?”
“Well, I couldn’t tell you how quickly the probe will find Mateo, because the whole point is we don’t know where he is, but if it has to sink all the way to the bottom, it will take forty-two minutes and eleven seconds from launch.”
“If your bot ever finishes building the launch brackets,” Leona says impatiently.
Ramses peels himself from the central hologram to look at her. “I hope you know that there is no guarantee—”
“I know,” she interrupts, frustrated.
“Sorry, what were you gonna say?” Vearden asks.
“He was going to remind me that we can’t be sure Mateo is the one down there,” Leona answers instead. “It’s true, were I you is not, like, this secret phrase that no one else would know. I just don’t think anyone else would think to use it in this situation.”
“Okay,” Ramses says passive-aggressively. “We’ll find out in about forty-two minutes.” He starts heading back down to engineering. “The EMR is finished with its work just in time for our launch window. You can all watch from up here.”
A few minutes later, the probe is through the miniature airlock that Ramses built in engineering, sacrificing what was once used as storage space. It’s now a little bit more difficult to walk around downstairs. The probe flies away from the AOC, and heads for Earth. It screams across the sky, exciting all amateur astronomers who were not expecting such a large piece of orbital debris to decay today. The truth is that it’s not all that large, but it’s built with materials not found in the modern world, so it would be assumed to be the size of a tiny home. Let the conspiracies begin.
The probe is through the rough spots now, so the parachutes deploy to slow its descent. Ramses frowns as he’s watching the data come in. Velocity, temperature, pressure, pollution levels. It’s picking up all of these things, but the one thing it’s not sensing is temporal energy. This is incredibly odd, even for the Third Rail. After it lands on the water, he goes back up to the rest of the group.
Leona shakes her head. “You see these numbers?”
“Yes, they don’t make any sense,” Ramses notes.
“Forgive me, but...” she begins awkwardly
“I didn’t screw it up. The detector is working fine. There is something seriously wrong with this world, and it’s bigger than we ever imagined.”
“I don’t understand,” Vearden says, worried that they’re going to roll their eyes at best, or chew his head off at worst.
“If I’m reading this right—and I’m no scientist, so I might not be—but it says here that you’re not sensing any temporal energy whatsoever,” Arcadia says.
“That’s right,” Leona replies. She reaches forward to play with the interface, but stops. There’s nothing to adjust or calibrate. It’s all laid out before them. It’s all wrong.
“Didn’t we kind of expect that, though?” Vearden presses. “We already know there’s no time travel, at least not down on the planet.”
“There’s always time travel.” Arcadia starts to talk with her hands. “For most people, time moves at a one to one ratio, which means that for every second that passes, one second passes. Temporal energy isn’t this magical substance that we use to manipulate time and space. It’s simply the transfer of excited particles from one moment in time to another, as a function of entropy.”
“Huh?”
“Temporal energy is just what happens when time passes,” Arcadia clarifies. “You can’t have no energy, because that would mean you have no time. It’s either balanced or unbalanced, and as time travelers, we exploit the unbalanced levels, but you can’t just have nothing. If you have nothing, you don’t exist. This world...doesn’t exist!”
The computer beeps. Leona looks back up to the hologram. “The probe is close enough to the source of the were I you signal. I know where to go.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ramses offers.
“No, stay here and...deal with this.”
Leona puts on her wetsuit, which is a half-measure, since it’s not what’s going to keep her safe down there. It just seems dumb to go down in her civies. She inserts the rebreather in her mouth, nods to the group, and then teleports to the signal. She can instantly tell that she’s standing inside of the Bridgette. She hears someone shuffling behind her, so she turns around to find Alyssa in a defensive position. Alyssa doesn’t loosen up, since Leona doesn’t look like herself with the mask on. “It’s me, it’s me.”
“Oh, okay. I guess it’s 2398 again.”
“Where were you?”
“Billions of years ago.”
“Tell me everything.”
Alyssa shakes her head. “I can’t. My memories are on a detonation mechanism. As soon as we surface, they’ll disappear, and I don’t have time to relay them to you.”
“I understand,” Leona says with a nod. “Is Mateo here?”
She hesitates to answer for a beat. “No. He’s never coming back.”

Thursday, June 30, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 27, 2398

Leona inhales deeply as she stands before the surprisingly small, nondescript building. She pulls in air so fast, it tips her backwards, into the car.
“Are you okay?” Mateo asks.
“I’m fine.” She doesn’t look away from her future.
“You got your phone?”
“Yes,” she answers.
“Call or text me when you need a ride back. I’ll plan to return here at 5:00 unless I hear otherwise.”
“All right, dear.”
“Were I you.”
“Sure, dear.”
“This is all you ever wanted, isn’t it?”
Now she finally turns to face her husband. “In another life...literally.”
Now he breathes deeply, and looks down at the car. “We’re right back where we started.”
She purses her lips into a tight smile. “I’ll see you tonight.” She can feel him watching as she walks up the steps. He doesn’t begin to drive away until she proves the door is unlocked.
Her key contact is eagerly awaiting her in the lobby. “Magnus Matic. It’s so nice to have you here. We’re all really excited to hear your thoughts on our projects.”
“What kind of projects would these be?” Leona asks.
“Not here,” Petra warns. She faces the security guard. “She’s with me.”
“I already have a badge,” Leona says. Whoops, she’s probably not supposed to yet. They didn’t think this through.
Petra doesn’t seem to care. “Okay.” She must assume that Denver made it for her.
She crosses the infrared barrier with own badge, and doesn’t even look back as Leona does the same using hers. They walk through several sets of doors—each of which requires their badges, despite the fact that there are no turn offs—before stepping into an elevator, which is open and waiting for them. There aren’t even any buttons to press, but there are security cameras in all four corners, as well as one where the buttons would normally be found, so someone must be operating it remotely. It feels like it moves pretty fast, but they’re in it for a really long time. They must be going many, many stories underground.
When the doors open, all they see is yet another set of heavy metal doors. Petra places her hands on the crash bar, but waits to push them. “Brace yourself.”
“Okay,” Leona says, sure it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.
She’s right. Petra opens the door, and leads her down one more short hallway, then through an open blast door. They’ve walked into an expanse. A rocketship is towering above them. It’s maybe 150 meters tall. Petra’s not looking at it, but instead at Leona’s face, hoping for a profound reaction.
“Oh. Oh, wow,” she pretends to be impressed, though probably not convincingly.
Petra is the shocked one here. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“No, of course not!” Oh God, more bad acting out of this dumb girl. Take some lessons, why don’t ya?
“Holy shit, do the Croatians have this kind of technology?”
What Marie and Heath decided after some thought is that Croatia in this world is a prosperous and fairly self-sufficient country. While Leona supposedly most recently conducted research in Denver, she came up in Osijek. It would be hard to disprove it. It fits nicely, because of her last name, but God forbid someone ask her to try to speak the Croatian language.
“What, uh...what is it? I mean, I know what it is, but what is it specifically designed for? Luna? Mars?”
Petra chuckles once. “Try Alpha Centauri.”
“Oh, okay.”
Petra scoffs.
That’s right, she’s meant to be amazed by all this. “I mean, that’s astonishing.”
“Magnus Matic! The fastest our current rockets could potentially arrive at the nearest star system would be four hundred years! This thing is engineered to get us there in half a lifetime. How have you not fainted by now?”
Leona looks over at her boss. Acting is not going to work, at least not in the way it should have from the start. Now she’s going to have to come up with a reasonable lie. “What is your form of propulsion?”
“Fission drive.”
“Ten percent of light speed, huh?”
“That’s right. Why? You think you can do better?”
Leona nods. “What you may not know is that I’ve spent a lot of time researching fractional theory. I can get you to at least 30 percent. I can get you fusion.”

Wednesday, June 29, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 26, 2398

Mateo and Angela are sitting in the living room together, reading their respective books from the library. Marie and Heath are out on the balcony, having a private conversation. Though, it probably can’t be too private, because any other resident could potentially hear them. A phone rings from their bedroom. Upon seeing that the two of them don’t hear it, Mateo gets up and goes inside. On the nightstand, he sees four phones lined up next to each other on what’s probably a wireless charger. On top of each one is a scrap piece of paper, tucked into the case, labeling them by name. Using his newfound genius level intelligence, he surmises that the one labeled LEONA is Leona’s new device. He answers it, and clears his throat. Then he almost laughs, because he remembers that being a problem back when he was just a normal person in the main sequence. The rational thing to do would be to clear one’s throat first, and answer second.
“Leona Matic’s phone.” A bright light shines into the corner of his eyes. He pulls his head away from it as fast as he pulls the phone in the opposite direction. He didn’t realize that it’s a hologram. “Oh, sorry. I thought it was audio only.” He didn’t even know holograms were a thing here in this time period. They have some weird expectations when it comes to technology.
The little lady standing over the screen nods respectfully. “That’s quite all right. Is Magnus Matic available?”
She must be talking about Leona. That’s his newfound genius coming through again. “I’m afraid she’s unavailable, she’s at work.”
Apparently surprised by this, the woman looks all around her. “I’m sorry, I was to understand she would be starting here soon.”
“Starting where?”
“Oh, forgive me,” she says in a horrified tone. “This is Magnus Petra Burgundy of the University of Usonia Kansas City Astrophysics and Cosmology Department. According to our records, Magnus Matic has recently requested transfer from U of U Denver.”
“Oh, yeah, right, of course. Yeah, she’s just working part time in retail. We were to understand it could take months for the transfer to go through. We sort of had to move out here on late notice due to family circumstances, so she just took what she could right away to support us.” No joke this time, that was a decent lie.
“That’s understandable,” Petra responds. “We foresee her ability to maintain her position, assuming it’s not too demanding, and still be able to work with us. However, when we received the notification for the request, we were quite ecstatic. Someone with her credentials and experience is exactly what we were looking for in regards to a special project we’ve been struggling with. I can’t say much over the phone, or to you, but we would be greatly relieved if she could begin work here immediately.”
Really? What fanciful claims did the forger make on her fake background documents? Magnus sounds like some kind of educational title, which he knows Leona not to have achieved in real life. Hopefully it’s not something she can’t fake her way through. “I imagine she would be happy to do that, though I cannot speak on her behalf. We just got new phones, so she forgot to take it with her today, but she’ll be back in the next few hours, if you would like to speak with her directly.”
“Yes, we would. And I apologize if calling today has caused any faith conflict. We know quite a bit about what Magnus Matic has accomplished in her time at Denver, but she did not list any shabatica. We operate seven days a week, but we respect our team members, and their disparate religious observances.”
“Rrrright,” Mateo answers, not sure what a shabatica is, but sure that he’s supposed to know. “I’ll give her the message.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
She just kind of stands there a moment.
“Could you hang up first? I’m not good with technology, she’s the smart one.”
“Very well.” The hologram disappears.
Mateo spins around, and comes face to face with Heath. “You found the phones?”
“Yes, Leona received a call.”
“Yeah, we bought them years ago. I don’t know why we bothered, it’s not like it would have been urgent. But we stuffed them in a drawer, and kept paying the data plans. I don’t know what kind of devices you’re used to, but you don’t ever turn these off. They will last for weeks on one charge, but they will eventually lose power. Even if you were to indeed switch them off, they would trickle it away slowly. We forgot about them, then Marie remembered last night, and rushed to charge them up. Y’all left before we could get them to you.”
“It’s okay,” Mateo determines. “She’ll be back soon.” He starts to walk towards him, like he’s trying to leave, but Heath doesn’t budge.
“One question.”
“Okay.”
“It’s going to sound random, but...do you like oyriri?”
“Do I?” Mateo asks as if it’s obvious that he does. “Do I?” he repeats, but in a more genuine tone. “What is that?”
Heath pulls a hologram up on his own device.”
Mateo squints and turns his head into different angles. “That’s a pineapple.”