Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts

Saturday, May 9, 2026

Extremus: Year 125

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Sable Keen opens Audrey’s eyes. She looks over at the chair next to her and sees Audrey opening Sable’s eyes. It was a success, they’ve managed to switch bodies. Now when Waldemar is standing there in his royal pose, it will be Audrey who is painting his portrait. Sable is slated to stay safe and sound somewhere else, the target being the Captain’s Stateroom, playing the part of the dutiful housewife. It’s not to keep her safe, though. She just doesn’t know how to draw. There are some skills that she can’t pick up from others. She doesn’t understand how it works, and doesn’t have anyone to talk to about it. But this is good. This sort of thing makes life more exciting. If there’s one thing she hates more than anything, it’s boredom. She lives for the drama.
Silveon reaches over and takes Sable by the hand. “Slowly. Slowly now,” he encourages softly as he’s helping her get onto Audrey’s feet.
“You know I’m Sable, right, not your girlfriend? I only look like her right now.”
Silveon looks over at Audrey, who Lataran is helping stand. “We’re not together. You do realize that, right? It’s important you know that we’re not a couple in any way shape or form. We work together because we have the same goals, and know what the stakes are.”
Of course Sable knew that, she’s just gauging their reactions. She always felt the chemistry between the two of them. They’re the same age, and they’ve been through a lot. In a perfect world, they would be together. But she knows enough about what that world looks like to know that Sable is not in it. She would not have been born if they hadn’t come back in time to stop the evil man, Waldemar Kristiansen. That name. It’s like his mother wanted him to grow up to become a villain. The way Sable sees it, Calla brought this on herself; her own death, and everything that has happened since. “I’m just messing with you,” she replies, having spent too much time in her head to respond any other way. This ends the follow-up conversation. “I can do it on my own.” She effortlessly steps over to the mirror and tests out her new look. Audrey has been practicing Sable’s mannerism so she can impersonate her. Sable has not been doing the same. At least that’s what she wants them to think. She has her own agenda.
“You are not to do anything as Audrey,” Lataran warns her. “If Waldemar comes to you, you will do as Audrey would do, and say what she would say, but you are not to interfere with their lives. You’re not there to make changes to their relationship, or try to get him to make certain administrative decisions for the ship, its crew, or passengers...”
“I know, mom. He doesn’t listen to Aud any better than he listens to me. It’s not about me becoming her, it’s about her becoming me. Stop going over it.”
“Okay, okay,” Lataran says in that voice she uses when she remembers that Sable is a big girl now. She was the hardest to convince to help Sable join the fight. She loves Sable too much, which is understandable, but that makes her less pliable. The further removed she is from someone, the easier it is for Sable to control them. Unless they have psychic powers, like Waldemar. That’s the biggest reason why Sable pushed for this assignment, because he’s a challenge. He really doesn’t listen to her. Unlike any rando in the hall whose sandwich she wants, he doesn’t have to comply.
Audrey checks Sable’s watch. “Okay. We cut it close, so I have to run.” They only had a short window to complete the body swapping procedure, but Waldemar is expecting to begin the sitting soon. She steps over and gives Sable a hug. She doesn’t struggle at all. That’s how Sable walks. Without hugging anyone else, she disappears.
“That was weird, don’t you think?” Sable asks Silveon and her mother. “We built in a little time for her to practice in my body. But she’s such a natural.”
“She’s transferred her consciousness before,” Silveon reasons. “It gets easier each time you do it.”
“I bet it does.” She turns around and looks back in the mirror, frowning at the boring clothes that Audrey picked out, probably because she knew Sable would end up in them. “Bye.” She jumps to the stateroom, where she has already stashed her backup watch. She switches them so everyone with the ability to track her location thinks that she’s still here when she’s not. They don’t have authorization to teleport directly inside to check on her, and would have no good reason to give the secret service for ringing the doorbell. She finds something sexier in the closet, then heads out with it.
The three agents guarding the door nod at her respectfully. “First Lady of the Vessel,” they each recite.  Yeah, Waldemar is really leaning into the idea that he’s not a captain, but a president. He sees it as a stepping stone towards becoming a king, and then an emperor. He feels the need to ease the people into accepting more and more of his power over them. He’s correct. If the team weren’t here to stop him, it would work.
She’s been studying the agents, and lucked out today. A few of them have expressed a deeper loyalty to Audrey than to Waldemar himself. They can’t say it out loud, but she sees it in their eyes. This particular guy is in love with her, and would do anything she says. She insisted on going about her business without constant protection, but she can request it anytime she wants. Sable looks the right one in the eyes, doing her best to give him the sense that, in another life, they could be together instead. “I would like an escort today. Only one.” Wait, she needs a cherry on top. “Only you.”
“Very good, Madam.” He’s trying to keep it together. He professionally begins to walk with her down the corridor while the others remain at their post.
“Laventry,” she begins to say once they’re out of earshot of the others.
“You know my name, Madam?” he interrupts. “I mean, I’m sorry, that was rude.”
“It’s okay, Lav.”
His face melts at the sound of the nickname. Perfect.
“Yes, I know your name. Lav, there are secrets on this ship, you know that?”
“I do, Madam.”
“Please. Call me Audrey,” Sable insists. Okay, she can see that that’s too much. He’s still been trained to bow before her and show great deference. “Or not. It’s fine.”
“Thank you, Madam First Lady of the Vessel.”
She laughs. “The secrets. There are places on this ship that not everyone has access to. I need you to take me to one of those places, and I need it to stay between us. Now, I understand that you have sworn and oath to preserve the captain’s chair, but there are things that not even my Waldemar needs to know.”
“Ma’am, I’m not sure I feel comfortable doing anyth—”
She interrupts him now to say, “you recall my child.”
She thought he was frowning before, but now he really is. “Yes, ma’am.”
“There is a place here where time tech is stored, are you aware of this place?”
“I am, Madam First Lady. It’s the old Temporal Engineering lab.” Waldemar did away with the position of temporal engineer. He doesn’t seem to care about it one way or another on principle, except when it comes to his pursuit of immortality. He shut it down, however, because it threatens his hold over Extremus. It leaves the possibility open for someone to go back in time to stop him from ascending. It didn’t seem to occur to him that it’s already happened.
She stops walking, and tugs at his upper arm. “There is something in there that can let me see my child.” Here it comes, the tears. She didn’t even have to drop a tearitant into her eyes, which is good, because he would have noticed that. “It’s not...real, but I can see what she would have looked like had she grown up. I just want to see, Lav. I want to know what I missed.”
“Yes, ma’am, I can understand that, ma’am.”
“Will you help me? Will you get me into that room, and tell no one else about it? Can I trust you, Lav?”
He stares at her and breathes deeply through his nose. She can hear the desire echoing off the walls of his full heart. “Yes, I will help you...Audrey.”
She smiles and places a hand upon his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers.
He gently takes hold of her hand, palm to back. He pulls it away, and puppets her to wipe the tears from her own cheek.
She smiles wider, and turns away shyly. “Sorry.”
Now he touches her chin, directly with his finger, turning it back towards him. “You can show your true feelings around me. I’m very emotionally intelligent.” The members of the secret police are absolute morons. It’s a wonder they manage to put their own shoes on them in the morning. Some of them probably have help. But the secret service agents? They truly are smart. That’s why she had to pick him carefully. She could not have grabbed any one at random. Anyone else would see right through her manipulation. Anyone would reject her control. It’s only working on him because of his connection to Audrey. If Sable had tried to do this as herself, she would have failed miserably, and it could have gotten her found out. “Let’s go.”
They continue through the ship until reaching the sealed off temporal engineering sector. At the door, he looks at her and chuckles. Then he lifts his hand, and smashes the side of his fist against the security panel, breaking it open.
“Oh. Strong.”
Yeah, he liked hearing that. Centuries of gender equality progress, and men are still driven to impress women with their skills and prowess. They’re all peacocks. He chuckles again as he starts to mess with the wires and miniature power crystals.
This is it. Sable is finally going to get what she needs. She can do a lot with what she has now, but she wants more. She has to have more, and she’s willing to go to great lengths to get it. It was not Waldemar’s idea for her to paint his portrait, or even for her to do it. He definitely thinks it was, which is exactly how it should be. Without being able to control another psychic’s mind, she had to use old fashioned conning techniques, and her feminine wiles. Again, het men are all the same. Does she feel bad about treating people like game pieces? No, because she’s not hurting them. Silveon and Audrey weren’t making any progress without her. They’ve been doing this almost literally their entire lives, and were floundering. They never would have let her help if she just let them make their own choices. People are stupid, prideful, and in these cases, protective. So it took a little coaxing. It’s true, that’s what Waldemar would do in the same position, and she has had to accept their similarities. She is more like him than she is willing to let her family and friends know. To be sure, she wants to stop him from destroying the ship, but he’s not crazy. He has some good ideas. It’s more that the ends don’t justify the means. She has better means. It’s her responsibility to use them, starting with this room.
Laventry cracks it. The door swings open, but it’s nothing but darkness. It’s a totally empty void.
She reaches out. As her hand passes over the threshold, it starts to de-resolve, breaking apart into a million pieces. She pulls it back out, watching her hand gradually reassemble itself.
Laventry is just standing there, still proud of himself.
“Did you see that? Did you see what happened?”
“Seems normal to me,” he replies.
“Stick your hand in there,” she orders.
He does as he’s told. He too watches his hand fall apart, then come back together once she pulls at his arm, and brings him fully back into the rendered environment.
“That doesn’t seem weird to you?”
“No. Should it?”
“God...dammit!” She turns around and lets out an incredibly loud scream as she’s beginning to walk away.
He hops up to her and clutches her shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong. I can help. I told you, I have high emotional intelligence.”
She turns back, scowls at him, and screams again. “Argh! Fuck you!” She pushes the NPC by the chest with both hands, right through the world boundary, killing him instantly. She starts to walk again, foaming at the mouth, utterly incensed at her so-called team. How dare they trick her? It’s a violation. What, did they not trust her? Did they know she would do something like this? Do they know she has powers? If they even know a little bit, that could be a massive problem for her. She screams again. She screams, and she screams, and for a moment after that, she yells, but then she goes back to screaming. She’s out of breath and exhausted, but not actually at all. She can’t feel anything. None of this is real, not even her. She hasn’t been walking for the last several minutes. She’s been sitting in a chair, painting Waldemar’s portrait. Audrey has been in the driver’s seat, and never gave up her own body. Why? Why do it like this? Ugh, she’s not gonna find any answers here. And she’s not going to get out of it by screaming.
She closes her eyes and begins to control her breath. The first step to breaking out of a mind prison is understanding the true orientation of your real body. This is virtual reality 101. Everyone learns that in school so they never become too immersed in the games. Normally, that would be pretty easy. She should be lying down at a 45-degree angle, her arms at her sides, or resting on her chest. But Audrey is making that more complicated, so Sable has to find it. She sits down on a cargo crate. She closes her eyes, and starts by guessing. Audrey is probably sitting like this, with her knees tight together, but her feet wide apart, so she can lean over to see her subject past the canvas. Which hand is dominant? She tries both, pantomining holding a brush. It’s up, it’s down a little, it’s up higher. She keeps moving with these microadjustments, lowering her fake heart rate, and keeping herself calm, breathing like a woman in labor.
The brush materializes in her hand. The real environment resolves, and she’s back. She’s in the art studio, sitting behind the easel. The painting has barely been started, and it may never be finished. The plan has changed. She stands and looks at Waldemar. He’s dressed ridiculously, and posed on a holographic mountain, like he’s nearly at the summit. “I’m not finishing this until you divorce your wife.”
He turns his head slightly to look at her, but maintains his pose. He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised, or annoyed at her. “Consider it done.”

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Microstory 2663: The Duty Republic

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Resi’s new responsibilities will begin tomorrow, though he will need time to prepare, so the work actually starts right away. An average of 31 kids turn 16 every day, so the next batch has already begun their cleansing ritual. He remembers his own cleansing like it was yesterday, because it was! Now they’re putting him in charge of the whole thing. Kokore apprentices train for years before they even perform one ceremony without supervision. And it’s not like watching them work on stage would prepare someone to fill in. There’s all sorts of other things going on behind the scenes that Resi doesn’t even know about. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know. He just assumes that there’s more to it. For him, it’s even worse. They want him for a job that hasn’t been done in two hundred years, with no education, experience, or aptitude, and no manual. This has to be some kind of test. Is this a test?
“It’s not a test,” his mother claims.
“So you’ve heard of the fifth House?” Resi presses.
“Just stories, but yes. Before you ask, I couldn’t tell you. It’s one of many things that children are not to know until their sixteenth birthdays. I didn’t think it would ever come up. No one did. I certainly didn’t think my son would be chosen.”
Chosen?” he echoes. “Chosen. No one is meant to be chosen for a House. It’s a subconscious decision. That’s the entire point of the Kidjum. If I was chosen, then who chose me? Who is responsible? What else do they choose? Is our whole culture a lie?”
“It’s not a lie, brother,” Omir insists. “It’s just changing. You’re the one who’s changing it. Your decision was still subconscious, but it was nearly unique. You were born to a world different than our ancestors. You see things differently. The island is ready for House Kutelin, and you tapped into that. It’s still all you, but what sets you apart is that you have a deeper understanding of the way things need to be now.”
Resi has never felt any different than the other kids. Mediocre is a word that always swims around in his head. And he’s liked that—it doesn’t sound like an insult to him. He appreciates being part of the collective. He wants to stay that way. He wants to blend in. This is far too much pressure, and he hasn’t even started whatever he’s expected to start. He doesn’t even seem to have any sort of trainer or mentor. No guidance, no real answers. His family doesn’t know anything. They’re just guessing. He looks down at his little sister. She’s a quiet one, and if he can be honest with himself for a minute, his favorite. It’s hard to tell how much of this she’s understanding, because she never lets on. When you look into her eyes, you will see nothing but wisdom and patience. He kneels down. “You’re the only one I can trust now.”
She smiles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. “I’ll come with you.”
“Oh, honey. You can’t go with him. It’s not time for you to choose—be chosen,” she corrects, “for a House yet. Seven years more.” Mother always talks down to Kala.
“It’s not about House Kutelin.” Resi takes Kala’s hand as he’s standing up straight. “They’re moving me closer to the Tadungeria. She can stay with me there.”
‘“You can’t take care of a child,” his mother argues. “Not only are you not qualified, but you won’t have the time. You have a duty to the whole island now.”
“Let’s not oversell it,” Resi counters. “I have a duty to the Four Houses.” Many refuse to acknowledge that there are two other nations on Yana, which have their own beliefs and practices. Today, they live in peace, and there is plenty of cross-pollination, but there has been much conflict in the past. The animosity can largely be attributed to a failure to recognize each other’s presence. Or really, it’s more about mentally attempting to absorb them into a single unified people. Resi knows that that’s not helpful. Pretending the divisions don’t exist doesn’t dismantle the divisions, it reinforces them.
“You also have a duty to this family,” Omir pushes back. “We need Kala here to complete our chores. You will have access to resources now. The city is well-established. You no longer need her, nor any of us.”
“Which is it, brother?” Resi questions. “Do I have a duty to our family, or am I no longer a part of this family?”
“It’s both,” his mother says. “This tradition is not changing. Even if you had chosen a different House for yourself, we would stay in contact.” Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to work, but it doesn’t make that much sense when you break it down. If your subconscious wants to join a different House than the one you grew up in, your ties to your first House are probably not that strong to begin with. If Omir had switched to, say, House Naino, Resi would not see him very often. He doesn’t even live here anymore. He should probably be at his new home right now, doing his own early morning chores.”
“I’m starting something new,” Resi begins. “It’s scary, and I don’t want to be alone. I wasn’t condescending to Kala when I said that she was the only one I could trust. She is too young to have kept anything from me.” He holds his free hand up when his mom opens her mouth to argue. “Now, I’m not mad that you did. I understand why. But I can’t do this if I’m relying on my family. If you can’t help me do what I need to do, then I need to commit to my new House. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving everything behind. I’m taking Kala, because I need her, and I don’t want to hear another word.”
Omir and their mother look over at Father. He’s a quiet one too, but not in Kala’s way. His silence shrouds an anger, and a darkness. He would never hurt them, Resi doesn’t think. He hasn’t before anyway. What’s frightening about it is how much he seems to be holding back. He doesn’t know why Father should be so mad, and why he has to work hard to tamp it down and remain calm. Resi thought he was doing something wrong when he was a kid, but grew up to decide that it doesn’t have anything to do with him specifically. There’s something bigger that bothers Father, which he can’t or won’t say. But as reserved as he is, Father always has an opinion, and they all respect it. “Son, it is not for you to know why your mind chose the House that it did. It is not for any of us to know, for ourselves, or for you. The fact is that starting a new House is no small venture. For my part, I do not care what you do with your power. You could tear down the Houses. You could wage war against the rest of Bungula. All is up to you, and we’ll love you for it, and stand by your side. But what you won’t do is deprive us of the labor and loyalty that we deserve. We had all four of our children for a purpose. You may take Kala with you, but in return, you will provide us with two new daughters as replacement, and you will do so with your first decree after tomorrow’s Kidjum.”
If anyone on this island can make Resi do something he doesn’t want to do, it’s Father. What he’s asking for—to Resi’s knowledge—has never been done before. You don’t ask for new family members to host. When someone chooses a House, they go where they’re needed, and no one is entitled to more than two children, adopted or otherwise. Yet everything is changing now. That’s what they’re fighting about today. He didn’t ask for this responsibility. “Very well, you will have your new daughters.”