The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 24, 2506

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The door was still open, but Octavia was now on the other side. She looked pretty upset and scared. “Come in! Come in!” she screamed. Mateo heard something behind him too, so he looked over his shoulder. Goddammit, another goddamn monster horde was coming after him. Was this ever going to end? Yeah, right now. He shuffled in through the door, and helped Octavia close it. They could hear the booms as the monsters pounded on it, trying to get through. “I thought they couldn’t cross the perimeter.”

“Rules have changed,” Octavia explained. “I think seeing me walk through this door last year broke something in them. Imagine waking up one day and realizing that you were in a simulation.”

“That literally happened to me, like, a few days ago.”

“Oh. So you know.”

“You’ve been here for the whole year?”

“Yeah,” she answered. They weren’t outside of the dome, per se, but now inside of an antechamber. The border wasn’t a single two dimensional wall, but a complete ring. If they were on the real Castlebourne, this plaza would be used for intake, maintenance, and other meta-purposes. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, and I’ve been using this time to find your friends.”

“And did you?”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been easy,” Octavia went on as she was leading him down the corridor. “Obviously, they disappeared last year when you did, so they weren’t anywhere. I couldn’t just command drones to fly around and search for them. Optical cameras aren’t actually all that common. Security and logging systems rely predominantly on other sensors. I had to sift through this past data, looking for anomalies. I believe that I’ve pinpointed them to six domes. Now that you’re all back, we can find out for sure through those few optical cameras on scouting drones. I wanna show you something else first. One of the domes is different. It flagged something that I don’t recognize, and unlike the others, this anomaly appears to have been there during the whole interim year.”

“Oh, no.” Mateo knew what this was. Still, he followed her into a room full of monitors. She pulled up the feed that she was talking about, and confirmed his suspicions. It was Boyd Maestri, a.k.a. Buddha Maestri, a.k.a. Buddy. “Yeah, he’s...I know him.”

“Are you gonna break him out too?”

“I don’t see why I would. Where is this? Is that water, or is there something wrong with the feed?”

“Apparently, it’s Atlantis, so yes, it’s underwater. But it’s not consumed by water; it’s under a dome. But a smooth dome, rather than a geodesic one like they usually are.”

He sighed. “He looks like he’s doing fine, and doesn’t need to be rescued. He’s another bad guy...sort of.”

“Okay, well, he’s alone, so either one of these other domes is doubled up, or I missed one.”

Mateo nodded. “Pacey did say that not all of us would be alone. I thought he was referring to me, which was confirmed when you showed up, but hopefully there are others.”

They sat there for a few minutes, watching the drones hunt for the anomalies in realtime, instead of just old data. They found them. Ramses was in a snowy hell. Leona was in a museum, Angela on a river, and Marie in an old timey settlement of some kind. Oh, Dome for Pioneers, it said that right there at the bottom. Olimpia and Romana were thankfully together, and Pacey couldn’t have picked a better place than a cloud paradise. It was called Heavendome.

“I assume you wanna start with Leona?”

“She looks fine,” Mateo noted. “She’s just looking at the artifacts. Let’s get Ramses out first. It’s literally called Tundradome.”

“I postulate that the vactrain network is just like that door in that you have administrative access to it. I have not been able to leave, not that I had anywhere to go anyway.”

“You could have gone to The Bowl, and commandeered a ship.”

“I don’t know that that exists here. Like I said, this isn’t the real Castlebourne. We may not be in regular space.”

“Still, I appreciate you sticking around. You’re a good friend.” They hugged.

They took the circle line first to get to the vactrain station. It was a series of sealed tubes almost fully underground, which could take passengers anywhere in the world. There were hubs scattered around the globe, where these vactrains switched tracks when necessary, but some tracks had direct routes to each other, just based on proximity. The one between Bloodbourne and Tundradome was one of these connections. Ten minutes later, they were at their destination. According to the drone keeping watch over Ramses, he wasn’t too far from the station, but it was still going to be a little bit of a walk. Mateo and Octavia grabbed parkas from the locker room, and started to put them on, as well as the boots, scarved, and caps.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird, that Pacey hasn’t done anything to try to stop us?” Paige asked.

“He told us that he didn’t want to mess with our memories too much, or make every choice for us. My theory is that he believes in some level of freewill, and freedom in general. We used our ingenuity to break out of our prison, and break into others, and he likely respects that. He doesn’t have to be our enemy, and he knows that. Or, his purview is limited, and he straight up doesn’t know that we’re here. In case that’s the explanation, let’s be careful and quick.”

They also found snowmobiles near the entrance to the tundra environment, so they drove right out to Ramses’ location, got him on board without a single word, and drove back. That really was easy. “Do you remember who you are?” Mateo asked once they were back inside.

“I remember everything,” Ramses answered.

“Me too.”

“I don’t have any powers, though, which is why I almost died out there.”

“You would be surprised. I materialized a solid knife made out of light in my hand.”

“Good for you,” Ramses murmured.

Mateo laughed. “Let’s get you warmed up. They had hot chocolate in the Bloodbourne intake plaza. I’m guessing that this one does too. It must.”

“Let’s just go,” Ramses requested. “I assume you know where the others are.”

“Leona’s closest,” Octavia answered, “but we will have to go through a conjunction.”

It took longer to get to her than it did to get to Ramses, but they still had plenty of time before next year stole them. She was less than enthusiastic about leaving. She owed her resistance to the fact that she had no clue who they were.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” she demanded to know.

“Leona, it’s me!”

“I don’t know you, I don’t know Leona.”

“Claudia’s in trouble,” Octavia said, randomly maybe?

“What?”

“She’s hurt, and you know, if she dies, this place dies.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s, umm...on a river,” Ramses improvised.

“Yeah, she was looking for the Rod of Moses.” Octavia cleared her throat, hoping that would work. “The snake bit her.”

“Why is she out in the field?” Leona lamented. “She’s always doing that, still thinks she’s an agent. Wait, the Staff of Moses should be in the religious power aisle.”

“Yeah, it was stolen,” Mateo said, hoping that she would find this believable.”

Leona growled. “Walter’s son.”

“Yeah, we think it was him.” Even Octavia didn’t know enough about whatever this place was all about, but this was working.

“Okay, let’s go.” Leona started to move, but then stopped. “Wait. I still don’t know who you people are.”

“We’re from...Warehouse 14,” Octavia lied. “So...better not ask any questions.”

Leona was still not convinced, so Mateo decided to take a gamble. He held his hand up between them. A holographic daisy sprouted from his palm, and then bloomed to full glory.

She regarded it with all-consuming interest. She didn’t think of anything else but this one light-based flower. She slowly lifted her gaze up to her husband’s face. “Mateo?”

“Are you starting to remember?”

“Yeah.” She looked away to consider it. “Yeah, I remember everything.”

“Triggers,” Ramses realized. “We all need triggers.”

“What was yours?” Mateo asked him.

“The cold,” he said. “My fictional persona was programmed to like the cold. I do not. And that became quite apparent within about three microseconds of being there.”

“Oh, Mateo, I almost lost you.” Leona wrapped her arms around Mateo’s neck to hug, and then kiss, him. She hugged Ramses too. “Paige! You’re here!”

“Octavia.”

Leona held up an index finger. “Got it.” There was a brief pause. “Where are the others? On a river, or was that just a lie to get me to go with you?”

“Angela is the one on the river,” Ramses replied. “It’s on the other side of the planet. The others are more over there too, but in different domes.”

“Which ones?” Leona pressed.

“Dome for Pioneers and Heavendome. Olimpia and Romana are sharing that one.”

“Let’s go to Dome for Pioneers first,” Leona suggested, “even if it’s farther away. It sounds terrible.”

“Hasn’t Marie done that kind of work before?” Olimpia asked as they were starting to leave the warehouse. “She lived in the 1800s.”

“Her father was quite wealthy,” Leona explained. “He literally had slaves do that work instead.”

“Oh.”

They went to Dome for Pioneers first. Marie was even more resistant to leave. They kept trying, but could not figure out her trigger. Nothing they said about her past—her real life—made her remember anything true about herself. As far as she was concerned, she had been born in a cabin twenty miles from here, walked with her family on the Oregon Trail when she was three and four years old, and had lived in this settlement ever since. She wouldn’t budge, and they didn’t want to force her. Not only was she becoming more and more frightened of them the more they insisted, the androids who were programmed to believe that they were other settlers were getting upset too, and very protective of her. Okay, at least they weren’t going to hurt her. The humans switched back to the original plan, and went to see Angela.

Angela was much more open to the idea that none of this was her real life, though she still didn’t want to leave. The way this dome worked was that an upper lake was the source of water to a river, which fed into a lower lake before being evaporated up, and rained back down. It might not have been as conventionally coveted as the Christo-centric interpretation of the afterlife, but it was still gorgeous and pleasant. Still, she said that she felt she could trust them, so she walked through the exit, and got on the vactrain. They then went back to Dome for Pioneers, where the Walton twins served as each other’s trigger. Now they only had one more place to go to collect the whole set. If Angela’s reluctance was any indication, it could be the hardest. Who in their right mind would ever want to leave heaven?

“Oh my God, this place is so boring!” Olimpia complained.

“You have a way out?” Romana asked. “Let’s go!”

“Do you remember us?” Mateo asked them.

“No. What? Why would we remember you? I don’t care who you are. If you have an exit, then point me to it. ¡Ándale!” Olimpia exclaimed.

“Seconded!” Romana agreed.

“Okay, great,” Ramses determined.

They started to walk back towards the elevator, but then Marie stopped them. “Wait, where are we going? Which dome is safe and preferable, or somehow beneficial?”

“Oh,” Mateo said, realizing that they hadn’t actually thought that far ahead yet. “Octavia, how did you get here in the first place?”

The group all looked at her, so she started to recoil a little. “It was a train. I found a line that looked like it didn’t go anywhere. Unlike the others, I think it was interdimensional. I ended up back where I was, but everything was different.”

“Where is this line?” Leona asked her. “You can’t access it from just anywhere?”

Octavia was still nervous. She shifted her focus from person to person. “Castledome. You have to go to Castledome.”

“Which is probably where Pacey is,” Romana lamented.

“It’s where he was,” Octavia agreed. He found me right quick, and took me to Bloodbourne.”

Mateo placed a hand on her shoulder. “Remember what I said with the car, that you had me to help you. That’s still true, but you now you also have them.” He indicated the group. “Castledome won’t be a problem.”

“No,” Leona concurred. “Let’s go.”

They took the vactrain back to the other side of the world, not speaking too much during the ride, but catching each other up a little. Mateo was able to trigger his daughter by recounting the story of when they first met, and Olimpia with a passionate kiss. They now all had a lot of memories that they didn’t have before, including their true pasts, their fabricated lives in Underburg, and the new ones from their respective domes since being separated. Something went wrong with navigation, which sent them on a detour away from Castledome. They ended up in Power Crystal Factor. Leona and Ramses tried to reroute them, but the controls were locked out. Someone wanted them here, almost certainly Pacey. With no other reasonable choice, they stepped off the train, crossed the ring, and walked through the main doors.

Pacey was waiting for them on the main floor. The name was fitting. He was surrounded by crystals of all shapes and colors, forming in their little growth chambers. They were sparkly, beautiful, and a little mesmerizing. Pacey still stole focus, though. He didn’t look mad, and definitely not surprised. He spoke first. “I’ll allow you to leave, but under one condition.”

“What’s that?” Leona asked, stepping forward, and resuming her role as their leader.

Pacey smirked. “All members of your party must be present at the reservation time. We do not seat partial parties.”

“Ah, shit,” Mateo said. “You’re gonna make us go get ‘im.”

“I’m gonna make you go get ‘im,” Pacey confirmed.

Mateo sighed. “And then we can go?”

“And then you can try to figure out how to leave,” Pacey corrected. “Whether you can actually do so is entirely up to you.”

“So that’s a no, you won’t let us.”

“I won’t actively stop you,” Pacey said. “But I won’t help you.”

“Well, at least we know he’s in Atlantis,” Octavia said encouragingly.

“He’s not necessarily there anymore,” Pacey countered. “The Recursiverse Immersive Experience takes the immersive part very seriously. It’s the largest dome network on the planet. It may take you a while, and you won’t have access to any tracking systems, or navigational data. But you might wanna take this.” He pulled one of the nearby crystals out of its slot, and offered it to them.

“What’s this?” Leona asked. It was totally clear while Pacey was holding it, but then it started to change to multiple colors once Leona took hold of it.

“You don’t know?” Pacey asked. “Ramses?”

“Never seen one like it,” Ramses said. “It’s technicolored, though, which is interesting.

Pacey nodded once with the corner of his lips turned down, but not in frown. “You’ll figure it out.” He ushered them back out to the train station.

“We’ll go to Atlantis first, and start on his trail from there,” Mateo suggested. “We’ll get it done faster than you think.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Pacey said as Team Matic was filing into the train car. “Good luck,” he added just before the doors closed.

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Microstory 2440: Heavendome

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No one knows what real heaven is like, or even if it exists. Come to this place recognizing that this is but one specific interpretation. I see these other reviews criticizing it for its Christian-centric roots as if the creators had any obligation to be secular and all-inclusive. If you want to find your own personal idea of heaven, then either build it yourself with your own two hands, or do the same in a virtual environment. I mean, what did you expect, that this would be all for you, or that your concept is the best one, and we should be following that one instead? The point of this dome is to simulate to the best of science’s ability to simulate conditions of a heaven that was purported to be in the clouds. That’s not real, folks. You can’t walk on clouds. I don’t know if real Christians of the past were just dumb enough to not know that clouds aren’t solid objects, or if they thought that God was magic, and he could let you do anything just ‘cause. Still, it’s a powerful image, a cloud city in the sky. How do you even do that? Well, you start with an aerogel matrix that extends the entire area of an upper level of the dome. So it’s solid, but still soft and cushiony, which you would expect a cloud to be if you could somehow walk on it. Below that is a layer of clouds. I’m not sure if they’re real water vapor clinging to the aerogel ceiling, because that would not be out of the realm of possibility. Above the aerogel surface is a dense fog that you wade through. I think that was really important, to suggest that the floor of a magical cloud isn’t just like a bunch of pillows lying next to each other. This fog is supposedly the lighter, whispier cloud “material” (suggesting again, that clouds aren’t condensed water vapor, but some sort of independent stuff that you can grab onto, like cotton). You actually kind of can grab this fog, so I think it’s made of nanites, but you won’t be able to carry it around with you. It sort of melts and drifts away? It’s a funny feeling, you should try it. They really thought it through in a fun way. And to explain, you can push this fog away from you with your hands. And you can push away the lower level of the clouds below you by punching the aerogel surface. That would seem to suggest that the lower level clouds are nanites too, not real. This whole cloud layer is around two kilometers up in the sky, which is where real clouds like this would be. Below that is land. I don’t think it’s a hologram. I think it’s really what the bottom of the dome looks like. I can’t see anyone walking around down there, but I’m wondering if they’ll let people in one day, so there can be two sections. Perhaps you combine Heavendome with two different layers, and the lower one is just regular people who live on “Earth”. Or hey, what about a third layer? The one underground could be a Christo-centric version of Hell. That would be insane. I’m not sure who would go down there, but it could be scary in a fun way, like Bloodbourne. For now, though, we only have Heaven, and that’s good enough. There are other components for ambiance, like rays of light, pearly gates, and “angels” with wings. They’re pretty stunning creatures, and often exhibit traits of a slightly more universal definition of anyone’s heaven...if you know what I mean. They don’t speak, and I don’t think they can really fly, but they really add to the ethereal vibe that they’re trying to evoke here. Overall, I give it a five out of five. It’s not really a place that you live, so you might as well take some time to check it out.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: January 7, 2399

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Petra is standing over Angela’s bed, watching her chest move up and down under the covers. The monitor indicates that she’s still alive too, though she’s not a doctor, which is why she needed more accessible confirmation. “She asked for this.”

“Yes,” the doctor repeats himself.

“Why would she do that?”

“She claimed that she’s not allowed to urinate.”

She looks over at him. “She didn’t explain why?”

“Sir, you instructed me to accommodate them. I didn’t ask too many questions.”

“I told you to give them what they wanted, not to just ignore your ethical obligations. You should have pressed her.”

“There was an apparent sensitivity of time.”

“So sensitive that you couldn’t have called me in first?”

“Those were not my instructions.”

Petra sighs, and takes a beat. “Is she safe like this?”

“It’s three more hours,” the doctor says. “I have nothing else to do but sit and watch her.”

“Good, do that. Literally don’t take your eyes off her. You’re not allowed to pee either.” She leaves the infirmary, and heads for the bridge. Today is a big day. It’s the turn around. Normal physics says that the faster you’re moving, the harder it is to change direction, and the longer it takes. They ought to be making a ginormous arc around the solar system, but the technology they’re using is decades beyond the need for that, if not longer. Leona Matic gave them more than just a fusion engine. She gave them instant acceleration.

The issue with traveling at fractional speeds—that is, speeds above ten percent of lightspeed—is that it takes an incredibly long time to start moving that fast. It’s not the engines themselves that are the only hurtle, but also the passengers. No organism is naturally equipped with the necessary biological characteristics that would allow it to survive accelerating faster than 10Gs. People have done it in experiments, but not for extended periods of time. But Leona’s people figured it out. Not only did they reach 99.9999% the speed of light virtually instantly, but they didn’t feel a thing. Petra still doesn’t quite understand how the inertial dampeners work, and this is her field of study. Researchers will be publishing papers on the science for years to come. She’s grateful for the opportunity to test it out, even though the trip will only last a few hours of observed time, and a few months of realtime.

They’re at the halfway point now, which means that it’s time to turn around. The plan is to make a stop in the middle of what Leona referred to as the Oort Cloud. While essentially static, they’ll literally turn the rocket, and then restart the engines. If all goes well, they should be on their way back to Earth within minutes. Petra walks onto the bridge. “How are we lookin’?”

The ship’s tiller keeps her eyes on her screen. “Just ran the final diagnostics. Everything is good to go.”

“You sure you can do this?” Petra asks.

“Does a Tamerist kill without reason?”

“I wish they didn’t.” A stranger has just walked into the room. No one else on the bridge recognizes him.

“Who are you?” Petra questions. “Security.”

The security officer assigned to this station draws her weapon.

“That will not be necessary. My name is Tamerlane Pryce, and I’m just hitching a ride back home.”

“Stand fast,” Petra orders. “What do you mean, you’re Tamerlane Pryce? Were your parents warmongers?”

The man sighs. “I did not mean for my religion to turn into that. It just...got out of hand; out of my control.”

“Explain yourself.”

“I’m a time traveler. To say that I was friends with Leona Matic would be...said in bad faith, but we are associates. She would recognize me. Angela would recognize me.”

“How convenient that the only person who might be able to vouch for your identity is currently indisposed.”

“Uh, sir?” the tiller jumps in. “It’s about to happen.”

“Get him out of here,” Petra orders the guard. “Take him to hock.”

“You can go alone,” the supposed Tamerlane says. He points the crown of his watch towards the guard, and taps on the screen. The guard disappears.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“Custom modified teleporter gun,” he says with a shrug. “No big deal.”

The tiller has started counting down, “...six, five, four, three, two, one. Full stop.”

The doppler shades that Leona also designed stop filtering the grayish glow, and turn completely black. “Raising shades,” the aux officer announces so that they can see fully out of the viewindow.

There is something that none of them expected; none but Tamerlane. They’re parked in front of a chunk of rock. Embedded in this rock is some kind of building. The lights are on, so someone is home. “What the fuh...?” Petra questions in a breathy voice.

The astonished bridge crew stands up, and leans forward.

“That, my new friends, is The Constant. It was my home for billions of years. Then they kicked me out, and they thought I would never find them again.”

Frightened but awe-inspired too, Petra admires the sight. “How is this possible?”

“I can get you docked,” Tamerlane tells her, “but you have to give me control.”

“Do it.” Angela has just come into the room. She’s still wearing only her bra and underwear, and holding onto her IV pole.

“Put this on,” the doctor offers, finally catching up to her. He wraps the blanket over her shoulders.

“Angela, you do know him?” Petra asks.

“Let’s just say I know...his twin brother.”

Tamerlane smirks.

“Get—” Petra stammers. “Get us in that building, I guess.”

Tamerlane approaches the controls, and starts tapping away. He lifts the microphone up. “Constance, Vacuum Entry Override Protocol Temple-Algae-Marathon five-nine-nine-eight.” In response, the walls of the building split open. A greenish-blue light appears from inside, and takes hold of the rocket. It pulls them in, turns them up, and lands them gently on the floor.

“Welcome back, Mister Pryce,” a voice says as a staircase extends up to them, and lets Tamerlane start climbing down on it. Petra follows, but Angela has to stay in the airlock, as she can’t handle the steps.

“Step on the landing,” Tamerlane calls up to her. “It’ll bring you down.”

The doctor insists on accompanying her, but everyone else is expected to stay with the ship until they’re told otherwise. Once the other two are safely down on the floor, the stairs contract slowly, and let Angela and the doctor down.

A woman comes into the room. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before we were found. I just thought it would take longer than eight months. I hoped, anyway. Tamerlane, I admire the ingenuity in orchestrating all of this.”

“No, you don’t, Danica, you’re annoyed by it.”

“I can have mixed feelings,” Danica contends. She reaches out to Angela. “Miss Walton. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Danica Matic.”

“Mateo’s cousin, yes. I met a different version of you.”

“I hope to live up to your impression of her.”

“Based on my experiences in this reality, you have a long ways to go.”

“True,” Danica admits. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll personally escort you to a comfortable medical stasis pod.”

Angela looks over to Tamerlane for guidance.

“Him?” Danica questions. “You’re looking to him to see if you can trust me?”

“If you know that I need stasis,” Angela begins, “then that means you’re not only monitoring what’s happening back on Earth, but also specifically what’s been happening to our team. This means that you know that we’ve been looking for you. Well, they’ve been looking for, I’m not sure I give a shit. Yet here you’ve been, hiding out...like a coward. You could have helped so many times, in so many ways.”

“I’m helping now. Do you want your sister to live, or not?”

Angela frowns, but surrenders. “Lead the way.”

“The rest of you can meet us in the master sitting room,” Danica says, taking Angela’s free hand.

“I’m staying with my patient,” the doctor declares. He gives Petra a look. “Those are my orders.”

“Very well.” Danica leads them both away.

“What is this place for?” Petra asks Tamerlane after the other three have left.

“Get everyone else, including the kids,” he replies. He nods at the stairs, which somehow respond to him by starting to extend back up towards the airlock of the rocket. “What this place is, is a haven for weary travelers. Danica has forgotten this fact, but we...are taking over.”

“Do you have the power to do that?” Petra asks. It’s become clear that Angela doesn’t care for either of these two mysterious people, but she seems to trust this one more than she does Danica.

“Not me,” Tamerlane acknowledges, “but Leona does.” He chuckles. “She should be here soon.”

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Mateo, Ramses, and Alyssa are preparing to investigate the region of the Oort cloud that Aquila mentioned, hoping to find the Constant, or at least a clue to its whereabouts. Unfortunately, they’ll be going in the wrong direction.

Microstory 1551: Color of the Sky

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Prompt

I run outside and find the sky has turned green.

Botner

Not a good sign. I call my mom, who is in town, and she says she’ll come get me. I grab my waders and run for the truck, just as a huge thunderclap sounds and the sky begins pouring rain. My phone dies after two tries. It is super annoying because I am outside with no coverage, but I can’t tell my mom that because she’s not answering her phone. I go to leave the house, and as I open the door, it occurs to me that I do not have a hat. The moment I leave, the sky clears up, and it is a gorgeous day. I spend the day wandering around town, shooting the scenery. In the evening, I camp on one of my favorite places on the lake. I have to walk about a mile to get to my campsite, and I run into a nice guy who is also setting up his tent. We talk for a bit, then he says, “I’ve got a campsite right across the street. Are you hungry?” I get to camp and make my dinner. I’m lying on the ground trying to figure out what to do for my tomorrow when a couple of guys appear out of nowhere. They take me on a two mile hike, then we sit around a campfire and they share their beers with me. It was a pretty sweet experience, even though I couldn't understand a word they were saying. I wake up bright and early, and it is sunny and gorgeous. I have decided that after finishing this section, I will be going home and taking some time off. After a day of riding, I hit the road, and it is amazing. I’ve come a long way in the past week, and I’m feeling strong and confident. My plan is to climb the entire thirteen miles of a paved highway to meet my first Expert level rest stop, and then drop down to town and restock, which will get me a little bit closer to the summit. This is a difficult section, but my body is feeling good and I’m getting plenty of rest. As I ride, I fall into a rhythm. I push a little bit, and then I ease up a bit. I don’t need to save my legs for the big climbs. I know from experience that I can handle anything from the present moment, and it is much less stressful that way. I finish the day and it is amazing. I’ve caught up to Tim, and we ride together through the night, chatting about climbing, life, motorcycles, everything. It feels so good to share this experience with someone else. It helps break up the monotony, but I don’t have to be the one to carry the conversation. We ride together through the night and camp at the second highest rest stop. It is freezing cold. We...

Conclusion

...look up at the sky, and find that it has now turned purple. It is no longer a gorgeous day, and I realize how much I dislike Tim. It’s nice to have someone else around sometimes, when I don’t have anyone else, but as I’m watching the orangish clouds roll overhead, I realize that I can do better than this. Without saying a word, I stand up, take off all of my clothes, and ride out of the campsite. I imagine Tim watching me go with total apathy, but only because he does nothing to stop me from going. It feels amazing, being out here, knowing how close I am to frostbite or death. My life is pretty boring, and you have to find ways to push yourself to your limits, or you’ll never amount to anything. The harder I pedal, the warmer I get, proving to me that I can do just about anything if I ignore the risks, and press on. I’m wrong, though. As the sky falls into a deep red, and the sun melts away, I look down at my blue fingers and toes. I was dying the whole time, but it’s not like I could have stopped it. The sun continues to disappear, taking everyone on the planet with it.

Microstory 1062: Mae

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Margaret told you about my drawings, eh? Well, it’s true that I’ve been drawing the future for the last few months, but what I decided to keep from her was that I’ve technically been drawing since Viola first gifted us with our psychic bonds. Here is the proof. Don’t bother flipping through the book, they’re all exactly the same. I mean that literally. Actually, go ahead and flip through it. They may look like photocopies of the same picture, but I drew each of these by hand, on different days. I’ve never been much of an artist, so it doesn’t really make sense that this would be how my ability manifests, but this is where we are. I’ve been seeing this image in my head for a year, and I still can’t figure out what it is. It kind of looks like a bottlecap, but not exactly. I’ve thought about bringing my friends in on it, but I just can’t quite work up the nerve to do it. This has always felt very personal, and something I should keep hidden, until now. As soon as you showed up, I had the urge to show you. So, what do you think it is? What was that? A tire? Oh, have been looking at it upside down this whole time? It does look like a tire. But what would all this white stuff be? Even if that’s the answer, it doesn’t really help us, does it? What do we do, find a tire? Take your pick; there are thousands of them, in this town alone. What Margaret may not have mentioned is that my so called power has never been helpful, not even once. They’re so vague and meaningless that I can’t use them to help. The weatherman bled black, so what? I didn’t know that until it had already happened, and couldn’t do anything about it anymore. The pictures I draw don’t tell me the future so much as they remind me of the past later on, which is something I could do on my own, and it wouldn’t give me stress hives. I wish just once, it would give me a social security number, or GPS coordinates. Of course I tried to ask Viola what the actually hell was going on with these pictures, but she was real dodgy. She literally kept trying to duck away from me, and when I cornered her, she basically shut down, like a robot. Wait, where did you get that? Did that picture just change? No, these have all been identical, down to every last detail. It’s like it’s the same picture, but...zoomed out. I don’t remember drawing this one; or seeing it afterwards, for that matter. That in the corner looks like a cloud. Oh my God, it’s an airplane tire. I think it’s falling from the sky. I have to go call Mattie and Margaret.

Microstory 977: Rain and Petrichor

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People hate the rain, and they hate gray skies, but the same feeling of comfort you experience with the color blue is what I experience with gray. Two of the few scents that my allergies allow me to smell are poop and popcorn, which don’t smell all that dissimilar to me, so you can imagine how important it is when I encounter something pleasant, like petrichor, or rotten eggs. Most know that water is vital to life, and if we want to find it on other planets, it’s probably going to require that water in liquid form. But standard water alone is not enough to make complex life. It is the water cycle that promoted evolution in its earliest days, and continues up through today. This cycle is an extremely delicate process, with more moving parts than you may realize. As I’ve recently learned from an educational YouTube video (shoutout to It’s Okay to Be Smart) the primary reason there is so much rain in the Amazon rainforest, and not so much over deserts, and other places, has to do with the purity of air. Contrary to what you might have been taught, rain is not completely pure. It never is, actually, because that would be impossible. Amazonian trees excrete chemicals into the air full of tiny particles, which water molecules attach themselves to and grow. Too few of these particles, and not enough liquid water can form into clouds. Too many, and it can’t form at all, because now there are too many cooks in the kitchen. Every day, greedy people all over the world are doing their damndest to destroy this planet. The rainforest provides us with our oxygen, and the life-giving water cycle. Your actions impact everyone, whether you realize it or not. Throughout history, cultures have had mixed feelings over rain. It is both cleansing, and saddening. Rain can wash away your problems, and clean you of your past mistakes, so you can start anew. But rain also marks death. If movies and television are to be believed, it should be raining everywhere, everyday, 24/7, as long as someone important has died, which is everywhere, everyday, for the grieving survivors of about 151,600 people. I see rain differently. I know that it can’t wash away my sins. They belong to me, and I’m responsible for them. My problems don’t go away unless I do something about them. I don’t feel sad in the rain either, because I find it harder to associate it with crying tears than the average person. Rain, to me, is just another example of how rare and impressive this world is, and how perfectly suited it is to us. I’ve spent some time researching, and I don’t think we’ve encountered another planet where it rains liquid water, and liquid water alone. You should count yourself lucky, so the next time you need to write something down, maybe stay out of the paper, and reach for your phone instead.

Microstory 873: Frenemies

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I have this list; this list of people that I’ve grown to hate over the years, for varying reasons. Some were bullies in grade school, others were annoying coworkers, and a few were racist neighbors. I have a whole section for celebrities who’ve pissed me off, so I can keep track of which movies I’m allowed to like, and which ones need to be quietly boycotted. I don’t know why I started this list, or what I planned on doing with it. I know that I never had any intention to hurt these people, or confront them in any way. I think I just needed to remind myself that I’ve struggled, and that there are people out there who done me wrong. Of course, the list is completely private; I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about it. I do own a gun, but only for protection, and I keep it well locked up. Not once have I considered using it to harm others, which is something I feel the need to be crystal clear about. The list has always been saved on my computer, but then this startup offers new customers thirty gigabytes of free cloud storage. I’ve never trusted the cloud, just like I don’t really trust banks with my money. Still, I have a bank account where I keep the majority of my money, so I figured security would be just as good for this. I signed up, and began transferring all of my files, except for the extremely sensitive documents, like my special list. Once it’s finished, the cloud system says that it’s scanning for other folders, even though I specifically told it which ones I wanted it to have, and which ones I didn’t. Before I can stop it, it’s taken everything off my computer, and I start getting suspicious. There are some...uh, videos there that I wanted to keep separated. They take up too much space, and I don’t need to risk some Silicon Valley nerd seeing it. I didn’t read through the Terms of Service and Privacy Policy, obviously, since I’m not a crazy person.

Nothings happens right away, but I’m already scared, so I reverse course, and delete all my files from the service. I still can’t help but think that the damage has been done. When you delete something from a harddrive, it doesn’t actually go away. It just puts a little sticky note there that says it’s cool to override it with something else later. How do remote servers work? Are they the same, or are they worse? Is that shit saved forever? I close my computer, and try to forget about it. About a week later, I see this social media notification that says one of my “friends” is interested in going to an event near me. He’s the only person I’m connected with online who’s also on my list, and that’s because I didn’t realize how much I disliked him until he had already requested friendship. I see him every day at work, so I can’t remove him until one of us leaves the job. The event is called Noctilucent Mixer, which is just a weird name for anything. I run a quick search in my brain’s memory archives from seventh grade, and I recognize the word to be a species of cloud. Now that is suspicious. I try to click on the event, but I’m completely locked out of it. That’s even stranger, because if you’re throwing a mixer, then you don’t want to limit yourself to the few people you remember to invite. I ask my irritating coworker if he’ll invite me to it, but the system doesn’t let him do that. Still, he gives me the address of the party, so I make plans to go.

I get an unsettling vibe as I’m pulling up to the airport hotel, so I park in the lot for the restaurant next door, and sneak around back. I peer into the window of the ballroom, and the first thing I see is this woman who lived in my neighborhood before I moved a few years ago. We were both walking our dogs one time, and happened to be going the same direction, which caused her dog to bark, and her to flip out at me about “following them around”. It’s like, train your dog better, lady. Mine’s totally chill. Anyway, I look around at the other partygoers, casually standing around with drinks, and realize that I know every single one of them. They are all on my list. I might have written it off as a freak coincidence, but even the celebrities are here. We’re in Idaho, so there’s no way that they didn’t have to fly out for this. This right here proves that cloud storage is unsecure. It read my list, and did this with it, whatever the hell exactly this is. I’m frozen. I don’t know whether I should run away, or crash the party. Before I can decide, a man walks up wearing a shirt from the company that was supposed to store my files without looking at them. He’s pointing my own gun at me. “We were worried that you wouldn’t show up,” he says as he’s forcing me away from the building. “You really shouldn’t write the code to your safe anywhere. You should just keep it in your head.” Then he takes something out of his pocket, and pushes a button. The ballroom explodes, sending me crashing into the taillight of a car. He tosses the detonator to the ground next to me, along with my gun. “You should probably run.”

Microstory 840: Low Man on the Ladder

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The Ladder. It is the single greatest challenge and honor. If chosen to ascend this monumental feat of engineering, it means your life is complete, that you gave accomplished everything you possibly can. Or so we’re told. Of course, as it is a challenge, just because you’re selected to attempt it, doesn’t mean you’ll succeed. Hundreds over the years have tried, and no one has heard of a winner. Perhaps that is the point, they say. They believe it to be one final lesson, that no matter how you lived, you die like everyone else. Which I guess is true, but that doesn’t make things any easier when most of the people are living in squalor, and the few rich want for nothing. Others think the point is to not climb, but to fall off, and meet The Abyss smile first. It is true that roughly three-fourths of selectees choose this route, and let go after working up enough courage. Many, however, still attempt to make the full climb. Few are given the privilege to watch—ritualizers, administrators, guards—and what little information on the truth of the event that leaks out suggests that everybody eventually falls. The rungs are far apart and slippery. The wind is fierce and unyielding. It would take a massive amount of physical strength to make it all the way to the top, if such a place even exists. The ladder rises above the clouds, so no one has seen the top. People have spent their whole lives training for it, only to find themselves never being picked. It would seem that the more you want it, the less of a chance you have in getting it. And I swear there’s a negative correlation between the amount of wealth you possess, and your chances of being chosen.

I never wanted it at all. I had no interest in trying to reach the top, nor in learning the reality behind it. I was always totally content just keeping my head down, and being me. So naturally, I was selected two days after my twenty-fourth birthday. “Any advice?” I ask the attendant as she’s preparing me for my journey. A few people have tried to run, and escape their fate, but none of them has ever made it, so what chance would I have? All I can do is hope for a quick death, because honestly, I don’t think there’s anything up there. I think our leaders just kill people. The attendant smiles at me shyly, and points to a patch of fungus in the corner of the cave. I kneel down to inspect it. “Powdernose. For traction. Perfect, thanks.” I tear some of off the ground, and rub it into my hands, as well as all up my arms, just for good measure. She directs me to the cave exit, where I can see the Ladder cross from bottom to top. The guards don’t look at me, nor do the ritualizers, whose chorus of speeches I ignore. They’re not saying anything that will help me through this. It’s all just a bunch of spiritualistic nonsense designed to make them feel better about what they’re doing. I wonder how committed they would be to their beliefs if they were ever chosen. I bet they’re exempt. My attendant leads me to the edge, and motions for me to begin my climb. With no choice, I hold onto the nearest rung, and swing around to face the mountain. She’s not smiling anymore. I reach up to the next rung, but the ladder begins to sink, which I wasn’t ready for, so I lose my grip and fall right off.

As I’m plummeting to my death, I’m imagining all those people up there, rolling their eyes, and joking with each other about how quick I lost. Maybe they’re paying one of them money, having bet on how long I would last. I can’t give them the satisfaction. I’m determined to catch the ladder once more, and at least climb far enough back up to see their faces again. I stick my arm back towards the Ladder, and grab onto the rung, holding on for dear life, knowing that my action will start it sinking once more. I don’t know how I manage, but I don’t break my arm. I scramble to get my feet back on, so I can restart. I have to get up there before most of them leave. The Ladderwatchers are literally always looking at the Ladder, but I want everyone to see before they go home for the week. I want to prove that I’m better than they think. Oh no, it was the adrenaline, which is wearing off now. I did break my arm, and it’s killing me. My God, I thought I knew what pain was. All I can do is cling to the wood, letting myself drift further and farther toward the darkness. As I draw nearer, I begin to hear incredibly frightening sounds. They’re cries of agony, and monstrous howls. Whatever is down there, I do not want to see it, but I’m too tired, and too hurt. Again, I just have to hope it ends quickly. But then the darkness passes, and I see ground below me. The Ladder continues to sink and be swallowed by the soil. I see bodies too; some fresh, some just bones. Once I’m only a few feet above the surface, I hop off, and take a look around. An old man comes out of the shadows with a huge grin. “You’ve figured out the secret. Come, friend. We built a better society here than we ever had on the mountain. We are all equal.”