Microstory 2620: They May Call it an Unknown Unknown, But Many Will Say They Should Have Known

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1

August 25, 2526. In the year 2155, Earthan scientists dispatched a series of procession probes towards Proxima Centauri. These were not the first probes to visit the star system, but they were far superior. It took the procession over 28 years to arrive, most of them sacrificing themselves to the fury of the red dwarf. There was nothing there to slow them down, except local gravity. The first one used solar pressure to decelerate as much as physics allowed, and transformed the energy it was receiving into a laser beam, which pushed against the next probe, decelerating it even faster. One by one they came, each one pushing back against the next in line before falling into the sun, until the last one was moving slow enough to survive. It performed a gravity braking maneuver around Centauri, and then remained there to perform its duties.

The first thing the final probe did was prepare what they called a catcher’s mitt. This was an electromagnetic tube built into an asteroid, designed to slow down any other vessel set to arrive by creating drag, so there would have to be no more sacrifices. The probe’s primary function, however, was to survey Proxima Centauri b, which colonists would later deem Proxima Doma. It looked up and down the land, building a map, and charting its past. It captured the mass, density, and surface gravity. It labeled the canyons, lava tubes, craters, and mountains. It sent high resolution images back to Earth, and the rest of Sol. It prepared for the nanofactories in 2194, which were made to build everything else that the colonists would need to live and thrive on the surface.

The probe noticed two very interesting geological features, later to be named the Chappa’ai and the Annulus mountain ranges. The former was in the north, and the latter in the south. They circled the poles quite fantastically perfectly. They weren’t artificial, but they were surprisingly smooth, in geological terms, anyway. They separated the poles from the rest of the planet, along the Terminator Line, and on both planetary faces. The researchers who studied these fascinating walls interpreted them as evidence of severe crater impacts. The fact that they could be found at both poles was mysterious and noteworthy, but not wholly implausible. Space is a dangerous and chaotic place. Things are flying every which way all the time. Why, Earth only supports life because a smaller planet once crashed into it, and ultimately made the moon. That was implausible too but it obviously happened. They certainly didn’t think there was anything else going on here. They had no alternative explanation.

As it turns out, the rings were not created by two perfectly positioned bolide impacts. They are the result of a multi-millennia long cycle, precipitated by the instability of the host star. Proxima Centauri was already volatile prior to this, sending out solar flares, and even coronal mass ejections, constantly. The polarity reverses every several years. It’s commonplace. It’s predictable. It’s accounted for. Very occasionally—but reasonably predictably, given enough data—the poles flip so spectacularly that it spells catastrophe for the orbiting terrestrial planet. That is what is happening in the here and now. The poles snapped, and sent a massive CME towards the colony. The atmosphere swelled, the surface turned into soup, and the ants were sent running for the hills. But it is not over. The cataclysm is only beginning. Because those polar rings? They’re suture zones, and they’re beginning to rip apart at the seams. And not everyone will be on the correct side when that happens.

Microstory 2619: There Are Those Who Know That There is an Easier Way to Escape

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1

August 24, 2526. The majority of the population of Proxima Doma live in domes. The word doma does not mean dome, so that is not why they called it that, but they do share a linguistic history. The connection is not random, they are still related. The purpose of the colony has always been to serve as a second home for Earthans. Until recently, with the advent of Castlebourne, it was the most heavily populated human settlement outside of the Sol system. They don’t count Glisnia either, because it was reserved predominantly for posthumans, which can explode in population at the whims of its individuals. One person can make a million copies of itself, or child assets, in a matter of days. But that’s not what Doma is about. It’s mostly about the humans. They’re typically transhumanistic themselves, and even virtually immortal, but they still require protection from the outside. And one way to do that is to build in lava tubes.

Lava tubes are very popular on Luna and Mars. That’s because they work very well there, and not so well on Proxima Doma. But they are not impossible, and there are precisely two of them. One is under construction, but the other is the home to hundreds of thousands of people. Well, it used to be. They have since abandoned their precious tube in the evacuation, but unlike most, they didn’t do it by running towards the nearest pole. They escaped using their minds.

“You don’t think they’re coming back?” the upload tech asks.

The lookout looks down at her friend. “They found the nearest spine. I think they’re gonna keep trying to head for the northern pole.”

“On foot?” he asks.

“Eh, doubtful. The reports said those vactrains are non-operational, but there are other means of traveling along the spines and domes, which are harder to break.”

“Should we keep waiting, in case there are other survivors who might be heading our way?”

The lookout turns the periscope southwards. “It is not looking good. If anyone is still alive in that direction, they’re about not to be, either because they’re stubborn or stupid.”

“Or stuck or trapped or confused, or a myriad of other reasons,” the tech offers.

“Regardless,” the lookout begins, “those are probably the last stragglers we’re gonna see. They were looking right at us. They probably can’t tell what we are. From that distance, with only their helmet scopes, we probably just look like generic ninety-degree angles. I think we should go.”

The last remaining herder walks into the room. “What’s the word?”

“We saw a couple of survivors on the surface,” the upload tech relays. “It looks like they were checking us out, but they decided to walk back towards the domes.”

“On foot?” the herder questions.

“That’s what I said.”

The lookout hops off of her perch a few steps at a time. “Did you find anyone during your sweep? What happened to your clothes?”

“Uh, it’s about 95 degrees celsius in some parts out there. I see you’re not exactly wearing a parka either, and this chamber still has working climate control. And no, all clear in my sector. Did any of the other herders find anyone?”

“A few,” the tech answers. “They’re all gone now, however, including the other herders. No one was so stubborn that they absolutely refused. If you didn’t find anyone, we are the last three people in Owl Town.” Owl Town isn’t the official name of the lava tube city, but it’s what everyone calls it. Some tried to get a lava theme going, but most leaned into the tubular aspect. If there had been any other lava tubes being colonized on this planet at the time, they probably wouldn’t have made any sort of connection.

“So, is it time?” the herder presses.

“I would prefer to wait for the next update from the other settlements that are evacuating the same way we are,” the tech explains. “It would be cool if we were the last everywhere; at least out of those who aren’t scrambling for the poles, or already there.”

“Are they all going to the same place?” the herder asks.

“Mostly, since it’s the most happenin’ spot right now,” the tech reports, “but some are going closer, like VR. I can send you there, if you want, or anywhere else with a quantum terminal.” His tablet beeps. “Oh, speaking of which.”

The lookout shakes her head. “No, it’s like you were saying, it’s a popular destination, and it’s that way for a reason. I was considering moving there before all this happened, but I’m glad I stayed to see it end. I mean...sorry, I’m not glad it’s ending, but if it has to end, at least I was here. I was one of the first colonists, and it sounds like I’ll be one of the last.”

The upload tech is looking over the update, and shaking his own head. “I wouldn’t be so sure. “Most of the people who are wanting to transfer have done it already. They’re just waiting on bandwidth. The polar residents, and the refugees that they’re letting in, are showing no intention of leaving like us. Reports indicate that Bungula is refusing to send their elevator platform. Even if some people do want to evacuate, there’s nowhere to go.”

“Why aren’t they doing what we’re doing?” the herder questions, flabbergasted. “I know some people aren’t digitized, but that still leaves a huge number of people who are, but are staying anyway? Do they think Proxima Doma will become habitable again?”

“There’s no reason to think that it won’t be,” the lookout begins. “Think about it, this planet has been here for billions of years, and we’ve been here for a few hundred. We just happened to be on it when it’s being completely destroyed forever? I don’t buy it. This is a cycle. It might be a very long cycle, but if we found a temporal niche to survive in, someone will find one again at a later date. Maybe people shouldn’t leave, or maybe they should plan on returning. That doesn’t sound crazy or dumb to me.”

“So, why aren’t you choosing to stay?” the tech questions.

“Because where we’re going sounds like more fun.”

“Agreed,” the herder says. “Best get on with it. I’ll go first.”

She and the lookout sit down next to each other. “I wanna try that Underbelly dome first,” the latter says as her final words. “See you on the other side in an hour.” She closes her eyes and lets the upload tech send her and the herder to Castlebourne.

The tech sighs. “No...you won’t.” He hits RECORD on his workstation cam. “This is Sorel Arts of Vulcan’s Hollow. If you find this message, I urge you to stop trying to escape to the poles. Nowhere is safe on Proxima Doma. Leave. Just leave. Transmit your consciousness to another world. It is the only logical choice. I’m only staying to convince others to do the same. Sorel Arts...signing off. Vulcan’s Hollow is closed for good.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 20, 2533

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1

They were still breathing, and the station hadn’t been destroyed, but it was in no shape to travel. Ramses and Leona spent the rest of the day affecting repairs, or rather, programming the automators to start working on them instead. Séarlas was the engineering twin, and could no longer fulfill this role. Franka wasn’t completely helpless, but she couldn’t do it all on her own. They weren’t entirely sure if they were still on their time-jumping pattern since they were waylaid for a year in the quintessence trap, but come midnight central, they received their answer. When they returned a year later, the station was still in a spiral shape, but it was functioning normally, and Franka was eager to test their quintessence drive. While the team was capable of returning safely inside of a moving vessel, even if it ultimately moved light years away, slinging instantaneously across the universe might break that spatial tethering feature. They just didn’t know yet, so Franka and her crew had to wait it out for months. Now the question was, where were they going to go?

“What about—?” Mateo began.

“Nope,” Leona argued before he could even finish his sentence. “I don’t wanna go back to Earth.”

That was not what Mateo was going to say. He was going to suggest Castlebourne, and he was about to clarify that when he sensed caution from Leona. She didn’t want to go back there. He saw her eyes dart over to Franka and Miracle. No, she didn’t want them to go there. He had to save it so they wouldn’t get suspicious. “Sorry, we just hadn’t been back in a while. I was hoping to see what Kansas City looked like now.” Yeah, that sounded like a plausible sentiment.

“Mostly forest,” Ramses claimed, or guessed; whichever.

It had been a long time since Mateo had to spell something out using his emotions. He decided to use an abbreviation and hope that everyone on the team understood. He forced himself to feel Pride, and then Disgust.

The girls were confused, but Ramses got it. “Let’s go to Proxima Doma. We need to know what happened there anyway.”

“Perfect,” Franka replied before turning her head to face her crew. “Get in stasis,” she ordered them. It officially consisted only of Miracle and Octavia, but Dutch wasn’t on Team Matic, so he had just spent the last year on Spiral Station. The first two reluctantly agreed, but he seemingly didn’t know if he had to do what she said. “It’s for your protection,” Franka went on. “These guys are practically immortal, but one miscalculation in the inertial dampeners, and I’m scraping your guts off the walls. I just cleaned them, I don’t wanna do it again.”

“It’s not that,” Dutch said sheepishly.

“Are you afraid I won’t wake you back up? We can set a timer for ten minutes.”

“No.” He would have been kicking the gravel if there were any gravel. “I was just wondering if I could switch to using...one of the ones next to the girls.”

“Oh.” Franka was hesitant, for some reason.

“What’s the problem?” Leona questioned. “Are they VIP pods?”

“The P stands for pods,” Romana joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“They’re not special, but it’s in the crew section,” Franka explained. “He used one of the guest pods last year when we had to do a contaminant purge.” She looked back at Dutch. “If you’re asking to use a crew pod, are you asking to be on the crew?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He gestured towards Team Matic. “Lord knows I can’t go with them. I assume you will be parting ways eventually.”

Franka sighed, and stared at her once-parents for a moment. “Probably.”

“If we’re voting, I vote yes,” Miracle decided.

“Same,” Octavia concurred.

Franka smiled like a mother letting her child have another cookie before Thanksgiving dinner. “Okay. Go calibrate your new pod to your body properties.”

Dutch smiled, and ran off with the ladies.

“You’re getting in a pod too, right?” Mateo asked Franka.

“Of course. I just wanted to warn you that I don’t have enough for everyone, so I recommend you suit up, and be prepared to teleport. I mean, if the splat happens, it’ll happen fast...”

“I’ll sync our interfaces with the slingdrive countdown,” Ramses assured her. “We’ll teleport 500 meters away, whether the inertial dampeners hold or not.”

“Good idea.” Franka tried to pivot away, but stopped. “And it’s called a quintessence drive.”

“No, it’s not,” Olimpia defended her decision to coin the term.

As it turned out, they were all worried about nothing. The inertial dampeners held just fine. The quintessence drive itself went fine too. Or rather, it didn’t fall apart. Navigation was still bad, which Ramses suspected had more to do with the coherence gauge. He did have trouble repairing it as it was based on slightly different technology than the ones he built for the Vellani Ambassador, and their array. He was confident that he could fix it now since they had just gone through a test run, which gave him more data. Fortunately, they were in a safe enough place. It wasn’t Proxima Doma, but it was another core world. Or worlds, rather.

They were in the Gatewood Collective, orbiting Barnard’s Star, which was about six light years from Earth. “I thought there weren’t any planets,” Angela argued. “That’s what everyone has always says about it.” Gatewood was a special place. While it was relatively close to the seed of civilization, it was decidedly not a colony. It was sometimes called The Lumber Yard, because it was only a gigantic store, and permanent habitation was absolutely not allowed. It was only designated for raw materials, and there was a good reason for that.

A radius of 50 light years was allocated for the stellar neighborhood. Most of the colonization efforts were state-sanctioned, by one state or another, or maybe one of the institutions that used to be a for-profit corporation. A few of those held on past the transition to a post-scarcity economy because they had by then become legally classified as utilities. Think Google and Wikipedia. A growing number of colonists, however, were small factions of people who wanted to start fresh elsewhere. A select few of these were allowed to find a home somewhere in the neighborhood, but the vast majority of them were expected to travel all the way out to the Charter Cloud, or beyond. Since they were not commissioned by an officially recognized state, it would be unfair for them to use resources from the solar system. But this created a problem. If they couldn’t build spaceships, how were they going to leave? Enter Gatewood. While cyclers were transporting people to and from the other nearest colonies constantly, no route was as heavily trafficked as the one to Barnard’s Star. That was the limit to the resource expenditure for the pioneers. The state agreed to transport them to the Collective, and house them there temporarily, but they would have to begin construction on their ship or fleet immediately, and bug out as soon as possible.

“There are no habitable planets,” Leona clarified. “Proxima Doma and Castlebourne aren’t habitable either, but they’re hospitable enough to make special arrangements, specifically the domes. Other worlds prefer lava tubes, or orbiting stations. The planets you’re seeing over there in the distance—there are four of them total—are low mass and extremely hot. Yeah, you could technically build a settlement on one of them, but it wouldn’t be very easy. That’s why they chose this for raw materials. They focus mostly on the asteroids and comets, but I believe they’re already starting to stripmine the terrestrial planets too.”

“Sorry, guys,” Ramses said through comms. “Off the mark again.”

“No, I’m curious about this place,” Mateo insisted. “Do we know anyone who lives here? I know Team Keshida moved on, as did the Ansutahan refugees, or rather, their descendants, but maybe someone else set up shop since we were last here?”

“Oh, I don’t have any more information than you,” Leona answered. “There’s a chance that we know someone, but very few entities live here permanently. Most aren’t allowed to, so it would just be the few who manage the allocation of resources, and enforce the stay laws.”

“Stay laws,” Marie repeated. “I like that term.”

“We got company,” Franka said through Ramses’ comms disc. He was the only one who returned to Spiral Station. The rest of the team was just floating around nearby, enjoying the view of the red dwarf.

Leona activated her maneuvering thrusters and turned around to see a big, dark spaceship on close approach. “Yeah, we see. Probably Gatewooders, trying to figure out where you came from.”

“Yep, that’s what they said,” Ramses confirmed.

“Please teleport back here,” Franka added. “They’re going to sweep the station, and if they don’t find you now, but see you later, they’re gonna think we’re smugglers.”

They all jumped back. “What do smugglers smuggle these days? Whisky?”

“Resource credits,” Franka answered as they were waiting to be boarded. “There are all sorts of criteria that determine what Gatewood gives you for your colonization efforts. Stealing credits gets you the best ores, and more of it, for higher luxury, if that’s your thing. If you have enough, you might even be able to buy antimatter...” She trailed off.

A man had suddenly appeared in front of them. “Ain’t nobody getting antimatter out here.” He pulled off his balaclava. “Fusion for all, but there’s a refinery 42 light years from here called Rasalhague, if that’s what you’re looking for instead.”

“We’re square,” Franka said to him. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before, and I’m familiar with just about every choosing one in the timeline.”

The man winced.

“He’s not a chooser,” Leona determined. “He’s a product of The Edge. He uses tech to teleport.”

“How else would you do it?” the guy asked.

“Are there a lot of teleporters like you?” Mateo pressed.

“This isn’t about me,” the man contended. He bobbled his head, weighing his options. “But I will answer your question, Gatewood is vast, and some people here don’t like each other, so we distribute them widely. To keep our contingency at low numbers, we were given a special command ship that can teleport somehow. That way, we don’t have to keep one at every single dock to supervise the pioneers effectively. A few of us can teleport as individuals. I earned that right.”

“We’re not arguing with you,” Leona promised him. “Just curious. I’m one of the people who gave you that technology.” She jerked her head towards Ramses. “He’s on the council too.”

The man stared at her, shocked by this news, but also recognizing that she could simply be lying. “Prove it.”

Leona receded her nanites until she was completely naked. Then she simply teleported to the other side of the room. Other members of Team Matic did the same a few times each, though not naked, because it really didn’t add anything.

He stared at her again, but with more shocked belief than skepticism this time. “The New Gods,” he uttered breathlessly, dropping into a kneel and bow.

“This is what we were afraid of,” Leona said with a heavy sigh, “but I had to test it, because I needed to know. There were two ends of the spectrum. We could hoard the time tech forever, or give it all away freely, with no conditions. We chose something in the middle, of course, because we’re rational human beings, but...every iteration came with risk. This is one of the consequences, which I have sheltered myself from for over a century now since I was so busy with other things.”

“Can we...stop him from worshiping you?” Mateo asked her.

She laughed. “People have been worshiping gods for millennia. They literally fought wars over it. I can tell him I’m not a god, but if he wants to believe, he’ll believe.”

“Then let’s take advantage of it,” Franka suggested. She placed herself between Leona and the man, who immediately stood up, because he didn’t know if he should revere her too. She wasn’t one of the ones who exhibited teleportation abilities just now. “You came. You swept. You found nothing. You left.”

He looked over Franka’s shoulder, at Leona, who was afraid to encourage his devotion, but she knew that she really didn’t have any choice anymore. She just shut her eyes and nodded. He lifted his wrist to his lips. “Fall back. This vessel has full access to our resources. Anywhere they want to go, let them go there. Anything they want to take, let them have it. Disconnect once everyone is out of the umbilicus. I’ll jump back to the bridge before you’re out of range.”

“Thank you,” Franka said to him.

“I would do anything for you.” He didn’t say it to Franka, though, but to Leona.

“What you can do is use the tech wisely; not to hurt people.”

“Always,” he agreed.

“Thank you. You can go now,” Leona all but ordered. Once he was gone, she physically turned Franka around by the shoulders. “I don’t care if we end up lost in M87, or NGC 253.” She also looked over at Ramses. “Get this thing out of this star system, and you will never come back for the rest of time, or so help me God, you will wish I wasn’t your mother in any reality. Do you understand me?”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who would abuse this kind of power?” Franka asked.

“You absolutely do look like that,” Leona said bluntly.

“She stared at her once-mother for a moment, not breaking eye contact, even when she spoke to Ramses. “Spool it up Rambo. I guess we’re leaving.”

Ramses did what he could to fix the quintessence drive before joining the rest of his team at the lower tip of the station. Franka asked to handle programming the sling herself. She just sounded bitter and annoyed at the time, but it turned out to be something else. During the interim year, she had programmed the repairs to make it more modular, so sections could be separated from each other. She released the section the team was on, and teleported the rest of the station away. Before they could track where it had gone, they saw a burst of technicolors in the distance, and realized that she had indeed slung away to parts unknown.

“Oh, crap!” Ramses cried. “She still has my forge core!” Since he kept losing access to his labs, he kept having to rebuild them from scratch. The forge core made it easier to do this. He always kept it somewhere in normal 3D space. The data drive module stored the specifications necessary to rebuild anything and everything from scratch, and an AI to process it all. It also came with starter nanites, and some other bells and whistles. He left it in the timestream so it could fix Spiral Station up while he couldn’t even be around to answer Franka’s questions.

“Is it unlocked?” Leona asked.

“Yes, it’s unlocked. I thought we could trust them.”

Angela looked over her shoulder. “I guess we’re going to land on one of those planets after all, huh?”

“No,” Leona reasoned. “We’ll go to the intake station, or whatever they call it these days. We couldn’t have been cast away somewhere better. We need resources.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2491: Military Dome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Historians can’t agree on when it happened, but humanity stopped fighting wars against each other a few hundred years ago. We didn’t have this big meeting to say, “hey, let’s stop doing this.” We had lots of little agreements over the course of our shared history, which eventually led to a persistent peacetime. Still, the threat never really goes away. Disparate factions must be ready to protect their interests, and honestly, while I think most of us don’t believe in aliens, the possibility remains of a true external opposition. I mean, Castlebourne itself is not a member of the stellar neighborhood. It’s in a unique position in that it holds a very strong connection to The Core, but it does not have to follow the same laws, and conflict could arise. This is even more true of the other Charter worlds—which are even less connected to our origins—and outer bands of colonization. As our descendants develop too far away from us to share our ideals, and even our biology, we might find ourselves in wartime once more. Castlebourne recognizes this, which is why they have formed a military force. Don’t be afraid, however, as it is 100% voluntary. You don’t have to even pledge any sort of loyalty when you visit this planet. The only people who serve on the force are those who want to, and they are being trained to protect you, whether you believe in their cause, or not. I won’t give away any of our secrets, but we are rapidly becoming as advanced as Teagarden. We’re developing all the latest tech, and making all the necessary precautions. We don’t actually have to be that big to defend the planet. We’re growing so we can potentially use our numbers to defend other territories for the less fortunate, or more modestly equipped. We don’t wanna become an interstellar police force, mind you. We don’t have our hearts set on galactic domination. But if someone wants to join, we’re not going to reject them because we’re at some arbitrary capacity. There are some stipulations if you join that I’ll go over briefly, but if you’re serious about serving, you’ll want to read more in depth material. I’ll reiterate that number one is that it’s voluntary. It’s important to emphasize that because of my second point, which is that once you do join, and are officially accepted, there is a minimum service commitment, which depends on what role you perform, but the shortest term I’ve ever heard of is two years. No one is expected to make a lifelong commitment, but I believe very high ranking officials have to sign up for ten or twenty years. As virtual immortals, this may not sound like much, but the days will add up. Don’t enlist if you just want to test the waters. That’s not what we’re doing here. It’s real life, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, unless that is, you sign on that dotted line. Then you follow orders. So be sure.

Microstory 2433: Tokyo 2077

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Did you ever go to Tokyo, Japan in the year 2077? Well...welcome back! I don’t know exactly why they chose this year for their recreation. I looked it up, there’s no Tokyo 2042, or Tokyo-Yokohama 2115. Maybe it’s random, or maybe the creator has some particular affinity for this city in this time period. They may have just as easily chosen 2075 or 2078; I dunno. I did find something when I searched for answers in the central archives that the year 2077 was used in a surprisingly great number of media, but they were all set in the future, because they were created before this. So maybe it’s just a nod to that, because the robot staff aren’t telling me anything. They just say, this is Tokyo 2077, have at it. I think I may know why Tokyo was chosen, though. At the turn of the 22nd century, there was a huge push towards population overcentralization. They figured out how to create megastructures that could fit hundreds of thousands of people each. They were nicer, newer, and allowed the rest of the land below to be returned to the plants and animals. They built these things several miles away from the population centers of the time, so people didn’t have to move very far, and once the old cities were emptied out, they could start to bulldoze them over. Tokyo was one of the last holdouts, and not because they hated pandas. There were a number of reasons, but the main one was that they were already so densely packed. There was no room to build the damn thing nearby, especially when competing against other priorities, like preexisting wildlife preserves, and historically protected settlements. They also wanted to build it near the ocean, because people love the water, and all that space was taken up, because like I literally just said, people love the water. Plus, the population by then in the Tokyo Metropolis was already so huge, one of these arcologies barely made a dent anyway. They needed a lot more to make any bit of difference. As I mentioned, it eventually merged with Yokohama, forming one gigantic city that wasn’t going anywhere soon. People eventually did move out, to seasteads, orbitals, interplanetary and interstellar colonies, and to just other parts of the world, but it took longer than anywhere else to find room to construct the megastructures. Anyway, if you have some particular interest in seeing what Tokyo looked like a few decades before this great transition—or in reminiscing—come check it out. There’s plenty to do here, but the theme isn’t any narrower than the city as a whole. It’s only a replica with robots simulating people living their everyday lives, so no one’s going to give you anything specific to do. People are starting to treat it like a violent video game, and destroying the androids like criminal thugs. I don’t know why it’s a growing trend in this particular dome, because the planet is riddled with non-self-aware droids, but you can try that if you have a lot of pent-up aggression. Be yourself, I guess.

Microstory 2430: Advanced Research Dome (ARD)

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

In the early days of interstellar colonization, they largely expected you to start from scratch, though the definition of this term is a little loose. I mean, they had domes too, because almost none of them had an atmosphere that was breathable by organic Earthans. So there was some technology right from the start, and they were making scientific advances on their own, but Earth remained front and center in the industry. You just can’t beat that kind of established infrastructure and strong, lasting institutions. I’m not sure that’s true anymore. While Teagarden took over the majority of the military needs of the Core Worlds, that was mostly for political reasons. They wanted to erase any sense that it favored the nations of Old Earth. Physics research didn’t have to switch homes, but it has. These new reframe engines people are using to travel at faster-than-light speeds? Those were apparently invented here. Developments in anti-gravity; induced stasis; transhumanistic enhancement, including bioforming; terraforming; power generation and distribution...it’s all here. Dare I say, we’re now more advanced than Earth is, even with all of its advantages? I’m sorry to tell you that that is my conclusion. If you’re interested in furthering our understanding of physics, biology, chemistry, or any other scientific field, your best bet is to come here. Earth’s programs are nothing to scoff at, and I don’t think they’re doing anything wrong, but at some point, the brightest minds in the galaxy evidently decided to move, and before anyone realized what was happening, the power shifted here. Good or bad, that’s what happened. This power may shift once more, back to Earth, or perhaps some third star system, but for now, this is the nexus of scientific exploration. The silver lining is that they’re not hoarding it any more than Earth did. They’re sharing what they’ve learned with others, so we’re at least safe from the privatization threats that we’ve faced in days past. Word of warning: this dome is not for visitors, really. You can come, and they’ll let you walk around, but we’re dealing with a lot of dangerous things here, so the majority of the sectors are off-limits without proper authorization. People keep randomly showing up, believing that we have something to show off, but that’s not what we’re doing here. This is just for us. If you want to join, fill out the right application. If you don’t yet qualify, find a learning platform, and catch up. There are no limits to who can help humanity and its offshoots achieve everything we ever dreamed of.

Microstory 2402: Castledome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

I had the rare opportunity to visit Castledome. For those of you not in the know, this was the first dome ever built on the surface of this planet. They’re not even sure if the original colonist was intending to build more domes at the time, or if he just needed a breathable place to live. This is where the leadership and other sentient staff members of the whole planet live and work. Obviously, there’s a castle, but that’s not all. They’ve built up a whole village in the surrounding areas, giving it the real feel of a medieval settlement. Everything on the outside looks really archaic and simplistic. I’m not sure if the old-timey machines are functional, like the water mill, or the wagons that I see strewn about, but I’m sure they are. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time outside, or inside, for that matter. I was only granted a one night stay in one of the towers as a sort of treat. To be fair, this planet is still in its early stages. They’re still testing a lot of these hotspots, so I’m sure more people will have the chance to do what I did. It was interesting to be in all that stone architecture. I’m fairly young, so I just don’t have any experience with that sort of thing. But don’t fret, it wasn’t all rustic. They still have computers and a network connection. The bed might have looked old, but the mattress was still really comfortable, and came with all the adjustable settings and smart sensors. I was hoping to get a chance to meet the planet’s owner, but he was just too busy. I can imagine that running this place is not easy, even though he has a full staff of dedicated personnel. This may change in the future, but there aren’t any activities or adventures in this particular dome. It’s just for living and exploring, and again, it’s not available to everyone since that’s where all the people work. Check it out if you can, but don’t get your hopes up.

Microstory 2400: Introduction to Castlebourne Reviews

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

I feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve addressed you, my imaginary audience. Sometimes I like to introduce new microfiction series as one of the characters, or the in-universe narrator, or someone else involved in the canon. Sometimes, however, it’s best if I just come at it as myself. In the end, I decided to do it this way, because there’s no good way for a character to prepare their readers for what they’re going to write. These are going to be formatted as customer reviews, and people don’t typically plan such writings. They have the experiences, and write how they feel in that moment. I know that there are going to be 99 of these in total, but the narrating reviewer wouldn’t really know that. In fact, I’m still not sure if the reviews are going to be from the perspective of one person who visited multiple domes, or if each one will be from a different person. I may leave it up in the air, because when it comes to real reviews, most people don’t have reviewers that they follow. I mean, I think it happens, but there’s often that trope with a prolific business reviewer who believes that their thoughts are important to other customers, and the joke is that no one really cares that much about any single review, and they probably don’t pay much attention to a reviewer’s history. Anyway, here’s the story. About 108 light years from Earth, there’s a planet called Castlebourne. It falls into the category of a Charter World. Now, what is that? Well, the closest neighboring star systems to Earth are known as the Core Worlds. We’re a tight-knit group. They were colonized through state-sponsored missions, they belong to a uniform, cohesive government, and they follow all the rules. In return, they get military protection, and resource exchanges without question. Stellar Neighborhood systems also receive military protection and aid, but at a lower priority to the Core. They don’t have to be post-scarcity societies, but their government can’t be oppressive, violent, or unfair. Civilizations in the Charter Cloud are expected to get there on their own, and for the most part, handle their own needs. They can’t take military action against a Core or Neighborhood system, but they’re not entitled to military protection from the Core. They can execute trade negotiations, but nothing is guaranteed. Any colony beyond this range is totally out of the Core’s control, and can do whatever they want, but the downside is they get nothing.

Castlebourne enjoys really strong ties to the Sol System. Despite being as far out into the galaxy as they are, they’ve been granted a number of charters. They’ve been afforded technology, power allotments, and additional ships in order to accomplish their goals. This is because Castlebourne offers a lot to all citizens of the inner colony bands. Almost the entire surface is littered with tens of thousands of geodesic domes. Most of these will be pressurized, and become habitable eventually, but it takes a lot of work, and a ton of resources. That’s why these charters are so important. These domes offer visitors all sorts of entertainment and amusement potential. Some are recreational, some of relaxational, some are for exploration, some are wildlife preserves. Many of them are just for the permanent inhabitants to live, and cultivate their independent society. There are two gargantuan oceans at the poles. This planet boasts having everything you could ever want. You can travel there using a fractional ship, but it’s going to take you over a hundred years to reach it. If you’re lucky, you might be able to get on a ship with a reframe engine, which will take around two months. But most people don’t see any point in this. They instead transfer their consciousnesses across the interstellar void via advanced quantum tunneling, and download into new substrates. It takes about an hour, and that’s it. Not every dome is available. There are just so many of them, and only so many sufficiently original ideas. But believe me, there are plenty of them. There is more than enough to see to occupy your time for decades. It would be pretty tough to get bored on Castlebourne. Like I said, the next 99 stories will be in the form of customer reviews, told from a person (or people) who had some meaningful visit there, and they barely scratch the surface. I could write a fictional review every weekday for the next forty years, and still not even come close to covering them all. Hopefully, these are the most interesting, at least out of the domes that were ready at the purported time of writing according to the set time period around the Grand Opening in the year 2500. Read them all, and decide for yourselves if Castlebourne is a place that you would like to travel to some day.

Microstory 1760: Ouruana

< > Table of Contents

Depending on who you ask, Orion and his accessories are composed of eighteen major star systems. These are the ones that make up the shape of the constellation, and aren’t just in the vicinity somewhere. His belt is the most famous component, but he also has a sword, a shield, and a club. As my ancestors were looking up at the stars, they saw these images, and used them to help navigate the world; in particular, the oceans. Their movements were predictable, and reliable. Way back then, they believed that the stars in any given constellation were close to one another, but of course, we now know that they aren’t. Some of  them are a couple hundred light years from our point of origin, which is Earth, and some are well over a thousand. Still, my peoples were reportedly mesmerized by Orion, and saw no reason to not create a relationship amongst the individual stars that are not there naturally. When the Earthans began to spread out to the stars, a special group of colonists decided to focus exclusively on the stars in this one constellation. Now, centuries later, every one of the major systems has been settled, and falls under the rule of the Ouruanan Empire. Not all systems came with terrestrial planets, so in those cases, we built them ourselves. That has been my job for my entire adult life, to help construct an entirely artificial world orbiting π6 Orionis. As a planetscaper—as we’re called—my reward will be my own home on the colony, free of charge, and a steady income for the rest of my life. It won’t be glamorous, but I can find a new job if I want to, and upgrade later. I’m not sure about that yet. I’m a simple man, so I don’t need much, and just the excitement of knowing that I’m partially responsible for the land beneath my feet may be enough for me.

I’m in a stadium of thousands. Our leaders are about to announce if we’re considered done yet. Of course, we’ll continue to build as our population grows, but at some point, they have to decide that we’re officially on a real planet, and not still in the main phase of the process. “Thank you all for coming,” the Foreman begins. “I know you have all been eagerly awaiting the results of our assessment. Can we call this a finished planet, or is there more work to be done? Obviously, the work is never over, so what you’re really asking is, can you retire? I’m pleased to announce that your efforts have not been in vain, and that the main phase is indeed complete.” The crowd cheers, grateful to finally live their lives on a fully constructed world. Most of us probably won’t set one more foot on a spacecraft or space station. We’re ready to breathe an atmosphere held in place by gravity, and swim in the lakes. The Foreman holds up his hand, instructing us to quiet down. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure you’ll want to live here anymore. You can, if you want—it’s your choice—but it’s not going to last you very long. As you know, we are at war with the Taurans. The Emperor is interested in testing a new weapon that his top researchers have devised that is capable of destroying an entire planet in a matter of minutes. Due to the interstellar rules of engagement, we are only allowed to test weapons in our own territory, lest we want to incur the wrath of the Constellation Alliance. They’ve chosen our humble planet as their target. Destruction is scheduled for two years from now. We apologize for the inconvenience.” Two years, huh? That’s more than enough time for me to perfect my orbital defense satellites. If they want to test that weapon, they’ll have to go against me. The Ouranans may be going to war with itself.

Microstory 1671: Life Beyond the Sea

< > Table of Contents

People are happy in Floasterverse. They love living on the ocean, being able to be as close to the water as they want. Some people live on artificial islands that are so large that they can’t even tell the difference between that, and regular land. It doesn’t have everything, though. Namely, it doesn’t have trains, and it doesn’t have beaches. Once everyone was relocated to the island system, people realized what they were missing. So while the robots were busy deconstructing the land cities of old, others were building new structures. More advanced and luxurious resorts were built on the natural beaches, which was kind of impossible to do on a floating island, as the entire point was that it was technically mobile. Similarly, a new train network was laid on every continent. They didn’t need to connect all the cities together, which was the purpose of the trains of yesterday, but they did want people to be able to enjoy nature as they passed by. It went all around the world in an extremely long loop, but it stopped regularly to let people on and off, in case they didn’t want to ride the whole thing, or simply didn’t have time. There were other things that people couldn’t do on the islands, or which would be too difficult to construct. These included camping, skiing, and freshwater activities. Still, this did not change their minds. These destinations were just for vacation. They almost always returned to the sea after they were finished. Even after having reached the technological singularity, and finding themselves with no more need for human labor, people considered the seasteads their permanent homes, and the vacation spots temporary places to enjoy themselves before getting back to their lives. As I said before, this universe did not fall victim to the Ochivari’s sterility virus, and did not have to involve themselves in the Darning Wars. But it was more than that. They became a profoundly peaceful race, and were perfectly capable of managing their population on a plateau, so they never felt the need to colonize other worlds. They strung up satellites to protect the planet against impact events, and the like. Then they spent the rest of the time just...living free.