The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 25, 2569

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

Romana had gotten out of control. Her father, and everyone else, fully understood where she was coming from—she was lonely, and she needed companionship—but she was playing with fire. They blamed the progression and simplification of technology. A lot of what Ramses did involved temporal manipulation, which most researchers and users didn’t have access to, but a lot of the rest had become ubiquitous. Their advanced substrates were quite common these days, except for the bit about being able to teleport, and their attached pocket dimensions. The computing power and the detail of simulations; the whole galaxy had it, or at least it was available to them.

Downloading what began as a programmed intelligence into a mobile body was nothing new, but it had certainly become easier over the centuries. And that was what a lot of the development focused on now. All everyday problems had been solved, so the primary changed involved removing friction from the processes. You used to have to know how to program a dayfruit with the right ingredients. Now you just told it what you want, and it grew. It even did it faster than the original species could be produced. It used to be that if you wanted to give a digitized consciousness a body, you had to have the education and experience for it, and to account for all sorts of variables. Now you pushed a button. All Romana had to do was push a button, and Boyd 3.0 was just there.

But Boyd was not perfect. She wanted him to be just like them, which meant he had to skip a year at the end of every day. That was time tech, and not in the central archives, so she had to come up with a workaround. According to her, every day at midnight central, his brain went dormant, and didn’t come back online until midnight 365 days later. This was the only way she could do it. If she had asked, Ramses would not have helped her, so she probably made the smart call in that regard. That didn’t mean it wasn’t a problem, though. If his mind could be switched off like that, he could be switched back on. Where were the safeguards? What if someone else showed up during their interim year? What if Boyd got tired of skipping time, and turned himself back on in the middle of a cycle? Did he even want to skip at all, or did he want to leave this planet, and go find his way elsewhere? Romana still hadn’t thought this through.

“I have thought it through,” Romana insisted. “You are just not listening.”

“No, you’re not listening,” Ramses argued louder when Mateo tried to. “Sorry, Matt, but I’m gonna have to take this one. She’s old enough to make her own choices, and suffer the consequences beyond a scolding from her parents.” He looked back at her. “This is dangerous stuff. There was a reason I was quarantining him, and I know you knew that. This was reckless, childish, and stupid, and there will be consequences.”

“Oh, you’re just mad because you’ve become irrelevant,” Romana contended. “Now suddenly the great Ramses Abdulrashid isn’t the only one on the team who can create life. I’m sorry science caught up to your genius, but it was inevitable. Get over it.”

“No.” Ramses was generally a chill guy. He usually only had anxiety over his own insecurities, but he was livid today. “You may not have used my personal lab, but you used equipment that I fabricated.” He stopped her before she could interrupt, “don’t bring AI into this. Of course I didn’t program them character-by-character. They are still mine, and you abused my trust in you by doing this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to you and your parents, but there may be something seriously wrong with you, so you’re going in hock.”

“You can’t do that.” She laughed it off. No one else was laughing. “No, he can’t do that. I’m an equal member of this team!” No one said a word. “Dad! Moms! Stop him! Stop him!” They didn’t. The time bullet hit her, and sent her straight into lock-up.

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2753: Dropoffs Only

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1

The football match started right after this Miracle Brighton woman claimed that she and her team were interested in the same thing in Treasure Hunting Dome. Rage didn’t have a chance to talk to her afterwards, because they were separated into different locker rooms, and then she couldn’t locate her again. Rage says that she’s not entirely surprised. The possibility of an ultimate secret prize isn’t something that she randomly came up with on her own. The rumor has been around since Treasure Hunting Dome first opened. Over the decades, with no proof that anyone ever won it, however, most have lost interest. They assume now that it doesn’t exist. Perhaps the rumor was started by the planet owner, who wanted to build hype, or it started organically. The fact that nothing has ever come of it has only served to intrigue Rage more, and Miracle evidently had the same idea. They try to find her on the local network, but no luck.

They train with each other in the Sandbox warehouse for about another week, but they have to be careful, because their efforts are not being made in secret. If they wanted complete privacy, they would have needed to go to a different planet. No one has ever said anything, but it’s plausible that the Custodians who run the game will use the team’s experience against them. If they get really good, for instance, at driving on the right side of the road, they might end up with a task where they have to drive on the left. And if they practice both, they might not get any driving challenge at all, and it will have been a waste of time. There’s no way to know, which also means there’s no reason to keep doing this indefinitely. They all agree that it’s time to dive in head first.

Before the big day, they check into the Apex Suite at the Palacium Hotel for a good night’s rest. Minotaur was able to secure it for them on short notice because they know someone who knows someone who knows someone. They would have been—

Smoke. Smoke and fire. Elise wakes up to find her room ablaze. She checks her consciousness stream and finds that it’s been severed. Her last upload was three hours ago. If she doesn’t get it turned back on, and dies here, the person who boots up in her backup body won’t really be her. It will only be a copy who thinks she’s Elise. How can this place be on fire? Things don’t catch fire anymore. It just isn’t done.

The door bursts off its hinges, and falls to the floor. Jolanda scrambles back up. She scoops Elise off the bed, and carries her out to the common area. It’s on fire too.

“I’m not streaming!” Elise warns.

“None of us is!” Jolanda is still carrying her as she finds her way across the room.

Zelda is holding a chair, pounding the leg against the edges of the window.

“We’re two kilometers up and that’s security glass!” Elise warns. “It won’t break!”

“Not without some help!” Zelda says. “Stand by Mino, Jo!” She keeps pounding.

“I think you can put me down now,” Elise tells Jolanda.

“We agreed that I would be the one to take you out,” Jolanda replies.

“What?” Elise questions. “What do you mean, take me out?”

Rage appears to their left, holding Colley like he’s also a little baby.

Zelda stops striking the glass, and puts her steampunk goggles on. “Ready?”

“Do it,” Rage orders. She grips Colley tighter. “Everyone turn off your lungs!”

Zelda takes Minotaur in one arm, then reaches out with the other to grip the doorknob of what’s either a bathroom or a closet. She yanks it open. It explodes.

Fire rushes out of the room, and crashes into the window. It’s destroyed instantly, and in that same instant, all six of them are sucked out.

Jolanda never lets go, but now she looks more worried than ever. Even though she has less experience skydiving, she doesn’t have none. They wouldn’t have done this if they weren’t each packing the right equipment, like parachutes and/or wingsuits. Why does she look so scared? She holds Elise tighter with one arm while she maneuvers her other one, hovering her watch above Elise’s face.

It takes a second for Elise to realize what Jolanda is trying to show her. Their altitude is about 35,000 meters and falling. They should not be anywhere near that high. That’s damn near the apex of the whole freaking top. Despite its name, that’s not where the Apex Suite sits. It’s just at the top of the building. She turns her head enough to look back up, but whatever they just fell out of has now been covered by clouds. She can see the other two pairs, though. Wait, four—no, six. Other people are also falling alongside them, presumably from some nearby suite that was also on fire. What is happening?

They keep falling for about a minute before Elise gets her head turned enough to see land below. It’s coming up fast. If Jolanda doesn’t do something soon...

“You can turn your lungs back on!” Jolanda shouts. “Or don’t, you don’t need them! But you do need to hold on tighter, with your arms and legs! I need to pull!”

Elise tightens up and buries her face in Jolanda’s neck. She may be falling in love.

Jolanda pulls the ripcord. The parachute flies out of the back of her belt. Elise’s legs slip off, and begin to dangle, but Jolanda wraps her arm back around her to compensate. After a few seconds, the initial shock wears off, and now they’re just floating. They’re actually going to be okay. They’re going to survive this.

Elise gets another look around now, and starts to run attendance. Rage, Colley, Zelda, and Minotaur; everyone’s here. She looks in the other direction, at the strangers. They’re actually not strangers. She recognizes Miracle’s face. She’s holding the girl who did a backflip on the football pitch. Instead of a parachute, they’re staying aloft via Miracle’s white feathered wings. Which is all sorts of crazy, but it’s clearly working.

As they’re drifting towards the ground, Elise feels something bite at her arm. Some kind of bug? She can’t get a look at it to check. She’ll just have to tough it out. But then she feels another bite on her other arm. She also sees rain begin to fall all around them, which doesn’t feel like a coincidence. She looks up in horror to find holes forming on the parachute above them. The holes are growing as something begins to shred the material. Rain plus stinging plus tearing equals only one thing. Acid rain.

Either someone is trying to kill them, or they’re just having a little fun, and they don’t know that the team isn’t streaming properly. The fact that they were somehow moved to the very top of the dome leads her to believe that this is attempted murder. Hours from now, when the unscheduled data gap triggers emergency resuscitation procedures, her latest backup will wake up with no idea what went wrong. She will have no reason to suspect foul play, but at least some version of Elise will exist. With that, there is a modicum of hope for justice.

After only a few seconds, the parachute can’t take it anymore. It violently rips apart, sending Elise and Jolanda away from each other. Not that it matters. At this height, even their advanced substrates won’t survive it. Elise keeps falling and falling until she runs out of room and splats on the ground.

Microstory 2749: Mind the Gap

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1

After Elise and Rage get dried off and cleaned up, the former follows the latter to the vactrain station where they head for a dome called The Sandbox. Rage evidently wants the team to meet each other on neutral ground. Before they embark on the treasure hunt, it’s prudent for them to get to know each other first, and learn how to work as a team. Rage expects them to be here for the next few weeks. She hasn’t yet explained why this particular dome. Elise has never heard of it before. She still isn’t sure why she was picked for this at all. She hasn’t excelled at the skills she’s attempted. She just likes to try new things. It was time for a break, though, so she’s not complaining.

It might seem like overkill, but according to Rage, this will be an important crucible. If anyone decides to quit, it’s a lot better if they do it before they begin the hunt. Losing a member doesn’t immediately disqualify the remainders from moving on. Everyone could leave by the end of it, and as long as the last remaining player sticks around, they can succeed. But obviously Rage doesn’t want that. She wants them to be perfectly in sync. She told Elise that she doesn’t know what that looks like, but that will precisely be the point of the exercises.

It’s making Elise a little nervous, all this uncertainty, but knowing that she doesn’t have to commit to anything right away has taken some of the pressure off of her.

After the vactrain lets them off at their destination, they take a smaller one to the other side of the dome, to an entrance where no one else is around. Also weird, so Elise checks her consciousness stream to her backup bodies, and they’re all fine, so she presses onwards.

They have to walk across a meadow before they get to a big warehouse in the middle of nowhere. It feels even more remote now. There’s not even any other infrastructure, and it doesn’t match the normal institutional architecture of Castlebourne. Is this where Rage lives? What is the Sandbox even for?

Elise steps inside when Rage holds the door open for her. As she’s scanning the antechamber, spotting the other people here, she hears the door close behind her. She turns around and tries to open it but it’s locked. She tries for a few more seconds, but it’s hopeless.

“She locked us in?” one of the strangers questions. She’s wearing a graphic t-shirt and baggy camo pants. She, along with the others, look just as confused and anxious.

“I don’t suppose anyone has superstrength?” Elise asks.

“No,” the guy replies. “Rage told us to come with standard human substrates.”

“It’s a trap,” someone else determines. They’re sitting on the edge of a metal table, one foot propped up on a chair, and the other dangling loosely.

Elise tilts her head. “I’m still connected to my backups. If she wants to kill us, it’s not going to work on me at least.”

The person who figured that it was a trap stands up and takes a knife out of their pocket. “I can kill anyone who wants to get out of here the easy way. I can’t promise to make it painless, but it’s an option.”

“Let’s look for a bloodless way first,” a girl in a yellow shirt suggests.

Elise looks back down at the handle. It doesn’t have a keyhole, but it looks like the one on the other side of the room does. She walks over to it. “I can pick it, if anyone has something I could use. Whatever is on the other side could be worse, though.”

Graphic tee girl pulls a bobby pin from her hair and hands it over. “If you’re going through hell...keep going. Winston Churchill.”

“Unverified attribution,” the guy counters.

“Then I’ll take the attribution—Zelda Frances,” she self-cites.

“Colley Rochelle,” he returns.

“I’m Elise Perkins,” Elise adds as she’s finishing unlocking the door. She doesn’t open it, though. She straights back up, and hands Zelda her pin back.

“Can’t do it?” the girl in yellow asks.

“No, it was easy,” Elise answers. “We just need to all agree to open it.”

“As long as we’re streaming, the danger isn’t real.” Knife-wielder heads for the door without waiting for permission. “I go by Minotaur,” they add as they’re opening it.

Elise has to grab Minotaur by the shirt collar when they slip right over the edge. It’s dark inside; they can’t see how deep the drop off is, but Elise won’t be able to hold on alone much longer. Colley runs over, and reaches down to pick up some of the slack.

“Rule number one,” Minotaur says as they’re standing back up. “look before you leap. I’m humiliated. This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered a trapdoor.”

“I think we all realize by now that this is a test,” Zelda says. “Rage wants to see where we are, so she knows how to train us.”

“She doesn’t need to be tested too?” Elise questions. She puts her flashlight gloves on, and cautiously reaches into the room. The pit is wide and deep. Her lights don’t have the range to show her the bottom, which means it’s too far for them to dangle and fall safely. She gets a look around at the rest of the open area. At least two packs are hanging on the wall, over a very narrow ledge. “I think they’re parachutes,” she announces.

Zelda gently moves Elise out of the way so she can peek around the corner, holding Elise’s hand up to control the flightlight. Without saying a word, she leaps over to the ledge, and holds one of the packs to brace herself. She opens a zipper and takes out a glowstick. She cracks it in her teeth with one hand so the other hand can keep holding on. “I need quiet, please,” she requests, even though no one is talking.

Zelda drops the glowstick down into the pit, listening for it on the bottom. “Thirty meters. We would never make it. There are only two packs anyway.”

“So they’re just there to tease us?” Elise asks her.

Zelda looks over her shoulder. She cracks a second glowstick, and tosses it behind her. It lands on the other side of the pit, which is at the same elevation. She smirks.

“No,” Elise says. “You can’t be serious.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Zelda recites.

“You shouldn’t try it,” Elise warns. “That’s at least fifteen meters, probably more!”

“It won’t be my first time.” Zelda takes her belt off and anchors it to the hook where the pack was hanging. She bites down on the belt to stay aloft, leaning backwards over the pit while she puts the parachute pack on. “I’ll find out what’s on the other side. There must be a drawbridge or something, or there would be a pack for each of us.”

“Or we’re meant to share,” Colley offers.

“Not possible with this maneuver.” Zelda holds onto the hook with her index fingers as she crouches on the ledge, facing the wall. After preparing herself mentally, she pushes off like a cricket. At the perfect moment, she releases the speedchute, using the force of the deployment to propel her just far enough to cover the gap. Hopefully.

Microstory 2746: Undercover Boss

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1

They ran out of time there at the end. Pribadium initially set a very low differential for the time slowdown, which already made their decision dire, but it didn’t stop there. What she didn’t realize was that the time bubble was contracting at the same time, thanks to the pressure of the contraction of the universe itself. Their localized time was starting to catch up to realtime, and once that happened, they would either die in the vacuum or be crushed by the dimensional barrier. There was no happy ending if they didn’t leave. She didn’t have time to make the necessary calculations.

She couldn’t remember exactly how far back they needed to send their minds, and even if she did, that’s not how the timechairs work. You don’t just set a date and press return. It requires very precise parameters to both make sure her current neurostate maintains cohesion, and that her past mind gets overwritten entirely, instead of lingering. A lingering partial consciousness is torturous and unethical. If you’re going to overwrite your past self, do it all the way, like putting a dying animal out of its misery.

Pribadium hoped that she and Sora would wind up back on Doma Tertia a few days before the planet was blown up, or even earlier. Instead, they land in the interrogation room at the very moment when everything changed. In seconds, a Teaguardian is going to teleport herself into this room, trying to arrest Sora, while also trying to rescue Pribadium. Not long after that, the whole planet will be destroyed. They can’t let that happen. It will ruin her chances to annihilate it the right way, so it doesn’t eventually recoalesce. She has to put a stop to it. In the first timeline, she and Sora escaped into..the space. This time, they have to go into the belly of the beast.

Pribadium leaps over and takes Sora in her arms. She releases the nanites from her body, and wraps them around him. She is intending to jump them to the interior of the ship, but if it has an anti-boarding lock, they might bounce off the hull on the outside. As soon as the nanites finish generating a spacesuit for him, they disappear.

There was a lock, but Pribadium’s teleportation algorithm knows how to break through it since she was part of the group who invented the technology in the first place. They’re now in the firing bay of one of the ships. The two engineers don’t even notice Pribadium and Sora because they’re busy powering up the weapon. They shouldn’t be.

“Stop!” Pribadium tries to order. “I am Chief Asset Manager Pribadium Delgado, and that is my planet. I am ordering you to cease fire! I will speak with the Klavis, but I demand that you stand down this instant. You came here to rescue me, and that’s done.”

The engineers only stare at her. One of them reaches over to sound the alarm.

Pribadium sighs. “We don’t have time for this.” She teleports over to him, then teleports him away. She then comes back for the other one before returning to Sora.

“Where did you take them?” Sora asks her as he’s trying to collapse his suit.

Pribadium smiles, and pulls her nanites back in. “I put them in hock.”

“They’ll just send more people. They probably don’t even need the engineers. They can control it from the bridge, or elsewhere,” Sora reasons.

“Good point.” She taps on her wrist interface, then places her hand on his waist.

“Buy me dinner first,” he jokes as his new teleporter belt is formulating around him. “You always could have used this to escape me. Why stay, to humor me?”

Pribadium is still watching his belt form. “This will let you jump anywhere, even through suppression fields. We must throw everyone in hock, and not just in this ship, but all three.” She looks up at him. “I stayed because I believed in you...because I believed you could become the man that you are today. I’m glad I did.” She cups his cheeks and kisses him passionately on the lips. “Remember, everyone in hock.”

“You take this one, I’ll take the other two,” Sora volunteers.

Pribadium chuckles. “The other way around.” She teleports away.

Together, they throw every single Teaguardian in the cells, knowing that it’s going to get them in trouble. The thing is, though, there is really nothing anyone can do to her. She is singularly too powerful. She will get out of this. She has friends in high places. The Shortlist gave Teagarden the tech, and they can take it away. They put failsafes in place to prevent or undo abuse. She doesn’t even have to ask for help. Someone will simply show up. She could end up in one of these cells too, and there will always be someone to get her out. She has never taken her political power for granted before, but she has to save this planet, the people on it, and the future of the Gatewood project.

Once Pribadium confirms that everyone has been successfully locked up, she returns to the first ship to address the Klavis, who is in charge of all three of them. Actually, a klavis should be responsible for four ships, which is concerning. Strictly speaking, they don’t have to travel in a formation of four. In fact, they usually don’t. It’s just possible that an extra one is sneaking around here somewhere. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I couldn’t let you fire those weapons. It wasn’t right, or smart.”

“I understand,” the Klavis replies.

“You do?” Pribadium questions. That’s an odd reaction from a military man.

“Yeah, of course! Why don’t you unlock these cells, and we’ll talk about it?”

“Oh. I see.” Pribadium completes a short breathing exercise. “Gatewood is an independent division of the Core World Consortium. We provide more good to the galaxy than Teagarden could ever dream. That’s why we have so much latitude to run it ourselves. We do not need your protection, because I’m here. I had the situation well in hand before you swooped in and screwed everything up. I’m not going to dissolve the relationship that we have with Teagarden, but I am going to kick these three Teaguardians out of my star system for the duration of the obliteration project. You may return once the planets are destroyed, but you will be taking up a distant patrol pattern. Again, I don’t actually need you to do anything.”

“You don’t get it,” the Klavis responds. “That is not for you to decide. You are the Chief Asset Manager, not the emperor of the galaxy. I have my orders.”

Pribadium nods. “And I have mine. There’s plenty of food in the cell synthesizers. I’m going to sync your ships, and send them on a relativistic loop. By the time they get back, the job will be done. We can fight then, but I won’t let you interfere with Project Ross 154.” She leans in real close and taps on the glass like a kid with a new pet turtle. “We all answer to the Core, but the Core answers to people like me. We’re the drivers. If you take your complaints high enough up the chain of command, you end up with me. I’m like an undercover boss. So enjoy your vacation. We’ll be fine without you.”

Pribadium disappears, and jumps to the bridge where she left Sora. “What is it?”

He’s looking up through the main viewscreen where a ship has just come into view. “They don’t look like a Teaguardian. I don’t recognize the design at all. Do you?”

Pribadium watches it too. “Yes. It’s my design. But I never built it.”

Sugar’s face comes on screen. “Captain Delgado...permission to board?”

Microstory 2745: My Respect and My Friendship

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1

Pribadium and Sora retreat into the auxiliary control room because that’s the most interior sector of the base. It’s deep in the asteroid. The rest of it is slowly being torn apart by the tidal forces of the dimensional barrier collapse. They won’t be able to stay here forever, though. They need to come up with a plan. Or rather, she will have to come up with it, because as intelligent as Sora is, he doesn’t know much about this stuff.

“Can you freeze time?” he suggests.

“Freeze time?” she echoes.

“Yeah. Just to give you more time to think of a permanent solution. I saw that in a TV show once. The ship was about to be destroyed by a big laser so they created a time bubble. I think they spent something like fifty years in there, which for people like me, is a long time, but that’s barely a blip for someone like you. Is that possible?”

Pribadium thinks about it. Yes, of course it’s possible. She is a time scientist. The problem is, what she needs is not in this room. This controls the lab itself. It doesn’t have any time tech in it. The main time lab is presently under siege. “It will be dangerous. It may already be destroyed. We’ll be jumping blind.” She offers her hand.

He takes it without hesitating, letting her teleport them both to the lab.

The walls are buckling. Particulates are falling from the ceiling. The tremors make it impossible for Sora to stay on his feet. She only can because of her advanced substrate. While he lies down on the floor and braces himself, she teeters over to the workstation and starts running through the process. It’s too long, it’s taking too long. She should have imagined this could happen, and been better prepared.

Just as the airlock buckles and bursts open, the bubble engages, preventing the air from escaping, and saving their lives. She dives down to make sure Sora’s okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assures her. He stands and looks at the hole. “It worked.”

“Sort of,” Pribadium says. “In my rush, I didn’t set the differential to be wide enough. For every minute that passes, a second passes out there. We probably only have about half an hour before this sector collapses too. I can’t raise the differential now. I would have to cancel it and start again. And if you were thinking about transporting the bubble back to the aux room, that’s not possible either. I only delayed the inevitable.”

“I wasn’t seriously suggesting we spend fifty years in here,” he explains. “You’re a genius, and if this is the main time lab, I’m sure you have everything you need to figure it out. Thirty minutes should be more than enough. I believe in you.”

Pribadium takes a deep breath, appreciating what he’s saying. It’s at least not so dire, but as she looks around, she’s seeing all the damage. All of her tech is lined up against the walls for feng shui reasons. The time machine, the time reverser, even the dimensional generators; they were all decimated prior to their arrival. There’s just nothing that will—the timechairs. They’re in the middle of the floor, intact. She looks over at him with sad eyes. “Our only hope is to send our consciousnesses back to their younger bodies. The only safe place is in the past. This timeline is defunct.”

“That will undo all of this,” he determines. “Runaway and Sugar will never exist.”

“No, they will,” Pribadium contends. “They left the universe entirely, which permanently protects them from timeline collapses. They’ll still be out there, and if they ever return, they will find the new timeline, but...what will that timeline look like?”

He offers her his hand like she did before. “Let’s go find out...together.”

Microstory 2740: It’s Getting Crowded in Here

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

Pribadium!One rolls her eyes. “What do you mean, no?”

Pribadium!Zero crosses her arms like a pouty child. “I want to be a real girl. I want my own body, and to have my independence. I deserve at least that much.”

Pribadium!One sighs. She set up the revision history retrieval system to capitalize on her ever-changing cognitive milestones. As she always says, two heads are better than one if both of them are her. And she thought that a past version of her mind would allow herself to be shut down for the greater good, but it’s like the others were saying; she thinks, therefore she is. Pribadium!Zero now is, and she doesn’t wanna stop being.

Sora steps forward with a demeanor of protective determination.

Pribadium!One holds her hand up. “Stand down, soldier. I don’t need to hear it. You’re human, which means your grasp of quantum metaphysics is rudimentary at best. If a self-aware and conscious individual asks for freedom, it is entitled to freedom. That is a core tenet of intelligence development science, and there is no reason it shouldn’t apply in this case either.” She faces her alternate self. “Which model would you like?”

“Stonehenge,” Pribadium!Zero replies, evidently already having thought about it.

“Stonehenge is taken,” Pribadium!One explains. “That is why we’re here.”

Pribadium!Zero presses her finger against her cheek. “Hmm...Sugar ‘n’ Salt.”

“Why do you wanna be white so bad?” Pribadium!One asks. “We’re not white.”

“Is Sugar ‘n’ Salt available, or is it not?” Pribadium!Zero questions.

Pribadium!One shakes her head. She strides over to the workstation that can control the other substrates in the library, and starts uploading her mind into the body.

While that’s processing, the entity in Stonehenge walks in. “I know what I want to be called, and I know what sets me apart from other amalgam consciousnesses.”

Sora regards her with interest, but Pribadium!One is getting a bit tired of all this.

The entity clears her throat. “You may address me as Runaway. I started to feel odd once I took a walk to clear my head in the west wing. Instead of alleviating my burden, it was enhanced. I can hear them. I can feel them.” She waits for a response. “Aren’t either of you going to say anything about that? This is big news,” she insists.

“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pribadium!One argues.

“What are you feeling? What are you hearing?” Sora asks, less combatively.

“All of them,” Runaway says. “All of the people who I come from—my parents, so to speak—I connect to them when I leave the heavy shielding of central operations.”

Pribadium stares at Runaway. “You have psychic powers? That’s new.”

“Yes, and there’s also this.” Runaway reaches up and removes a chunk of her own hair from her head. She presents it casually, like it doesn’t bother her at all.

“Stonehenge can’t handle the psychic energy,” Pribadium!One decides. “It’s not designed for psychic connections.” She looks over when a nearby pod beeps.

Pribadium!Zero steps out wearing the Sugar ‘n’ Salt model. “What’d I miss?”

“Everything.” Pribadium!One faces Runaway. “You need a new body too, but I’ll need time to develop it, so in the meantime, stay away from the west wing, for your safety.” She will never know what Runaway is thinking, but the links she maintains with her source consciousnesses will undoubtedly come in handy. Mind control is unethical...unless of course it involves efficiently transporting innocent people to safety.

“We’ll need time,” Pribadium!Zero corrects. But is it true?

Microstory 2738: Out-of-Context Problem

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

Sora and Pribadium have no words. This is an out-of-context problem that neither of them can understand, especially not Sora. Pribadium comes on strongly once she does find the words, demanding to see this entity’s medpod results. She provides them freely. When her mind—whatever it is—downloaded into this substrate, it was not entirely coherent yet, but now she has a better understanding of what she is. The pod helped her relax so she could finish the integration process, and now she’s complete. She has since put on clothes, and is waiting patiently for a response from the humans.

Pribadium skims the data at first. “Your neural network is profoundly dense and complex. I can’t definitively say that it necessarily holds the...consciousness of a universe, but it’s certainly not the architecture of a normal human.”

“How could it be possible?” Sora questions. “The universe isn’t a thinking thing.”

“I’m not the personification of the universe itself,” Pribadium!Three—or whatever they should call her—explains. “You’re right, it doesn’t have a mind, and isn’t a person. It’s made up of a chaotic mess of baryonic matter and energy, held together by quintessence. Instead, I am the collective consciousness of everyone in the universe.”

Pribadium pauses to listen. “Wait, which universe, and how much of reality? Because if it’s the main sequence, we’re talking hundreds of billions of people. If it’s all of Salmonverse, it’s an undecillion.” That would be physically impossible. And it only includes sapient beings. What about the animals? Insects alone number in the trillions.

“It’s just the people in this pocket universe,” ...the Universe explains. They really need to come up with a real name for her. “So a few thousand people.”

“Ah, just the ones who got swept up in the transdimensional field,” Pribadium decides. “That sounds far more manageable, but still incredibly complicated. How are you feeling? All of my substrates are designed to be high-capacity, but I never imagined quite that number. Are they compressed? Are they dormant? Are you missing chunks?”

“All of those things,” the entity explains, “and more. I possess a highly efficient organizational structure, thanks to how you designed this substrate. When two source minds, for instance, shared a similar neural connection to each other, my mind averaged the associations, resulting in a more streamlined cognitive configuration.”

“So, you’re an entirely new person,” Sora figures. “You’re not the universe, you’re not an amalgamation. You’re a child...a child of all of us, with most of our memories.”

“That would be one way to put it,” the entity agrees.

“We need to come up with a name for you,” Sora decides. “For clarity.”

“Just call me Gatewood, I suppose,” she determines with a shoulder shrug.

“That would be ambiguous,” Sora replies. “And a bit impersonal.”

“That is not important right now,” Pribadium jumps back in. “Whoever you are, the medpod was not equipped to synthesize something of your nature. Nothing in my lab is. But with time, I can come up with something. Would you allow me to?”

“I trust you now, where I didn’t before. As I was saying, my mind was muddled when I first awoke, and your mind is not in here, but I know you second-hand.”

“Why wouldn’t I be in there?” Pribadium asks. “My alternate self, Pribadium!Two should have been a core consciousness. That’s who he was trying to save.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” the woman says. “Go ahead and build what you need to build. I’m hungry. Do you have any fish fingers and custard?”

Microstory 2737: The Whole Universe

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

Sora takes half a step forward. “You—”

“I will handle this,” Pribadium!One insists. “You have done quite enough, Mr. Shimizu.” She looks at her alternate self. “You were killed in a streaming dead zone,” she explains bluntly. “You were on a manned mission to explore and investigate a dimensional barrier. There is a gap between your memory and the moment of cessation. It is not entirely clear how long, though. Your consciousness may have been transmitted to the afterlife buffer. You may be a duplicate. I am sorry for your loss.”

The other Pribadium blinks as she looks between the two of them. “What is the last thing I should recall? Because I don’t remember any of that. I don’t know this dimensional barrier, I don’t know him, and I don’t know you.”

Pribadium!One winces. “I’m Pribadium, an alt of you.” She gestures towards her own face. “This is how we originally looked.” She stops for a moment to think. “Well, it’s not exactly how we used to look, but it’s fairly close. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Pribadium,” the dupe contends, almost combatively. It doesn’t seem right to think of her as Pribadium!Two since so much has evidently been lost. “I don’t recognize your face at all. I don’t know what you mean by alt. I’m the only me that has ever been.”

Pribadium!One points to a nearby mirror. “Do you recognize that face?”

The other Pribadium walks towards it and touches her own chin and cheek. “Yes, this is the Stonehenge model. It explains why I have a British accent I suppose.”

“What did I do?” Sora questions. “Did I pull the wrong backup? I grabbed the second most recent one. I assumed the most recent one was you. It was time-stamped earlier today. There were no other iterations. How did this happen?” He is distraught.

Pribadium!One sighs. “There should have only been two, and you’re right, the most recent one would have been me. If you had pulled the wrong one, what should be happening is that she thinks she’s me. But she doesn’t think she’s either of us. Her mind has been entirely corrupted.” She clears her throat. “Pribadium!Three—that’s what we’re going to need to call you—I need to run some tests on you. Do I have your consent?”

Pribadium!Three stares at who she perceives to be a stranger. “I will run the tests. I don’t trust you, and I don’t need you.” She strips off what little clothing she has on, climbs into the nearest medical pod, and begins to operate it herself. She programs it for a full diagnostic run, which will include periods of unconsciousness. “I’m locking you out of the pod, but I would like you to leave the room as well.”

Pribadium!One starts to pull Sora away when he doesn’t move immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Sora desperately apologizes to the mysterious duplicate in the pod.

“It’s okay,” Pribadium!Three replies. “Je pense, donc je suis.”

Sora’s eyes widen, recalling that as the phrase he used for her as well. Still, he allows himself to be dragged out of the room. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Yes, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s only a coincidence,” Pribadium!One is not sure she believes that, though. She opens her mouth to continue, but he interrupts.

“Don’t say what you’re going to say. I know, I was rash and impulsive. I’m sorry.”

What’s done is done, so they just wait out in the corridor for Pribadium!Three to finish. She comes out half an hour later. “I know what I am now. I’m not Pribadium.”

“Who are you then?” Pribadium!One presses.

“I’m the universe.”

Microstory 2736: Introducing Pribadium!Three

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software

Pribadium didn’t think that Sora—or anyone, for that matter—would be able to bypass her security protocols, so she doesn’t rush to chase after him. Once she sees him enter the substrate library, however, she grows worried. She immediately tries to teleport into the room with him, but the closest she gets is outside in the hallway. He has managed to not only breach the sector, but lock her out if. How did he do that?

She bangs on the hatch. “How are you doing this?” She bangs on it more.

Sora looks at her through the view window with a frown. He holds up an object so she can see. It’s a cephalobud, and it looks like it’s already been used and spent.

Pribadium invented it a few decades ago. It’s somewhat comparable to other neural drives, except this model can pull information directly from the timestream. It allows a user to download whatever digital data they want into their brains. Unlike other kinds, this will transfer knowledge even if you’re not digitized. It’s very dangerous, especially for a normal human like Sora. Time travelers have different neurology and biology, and that’s who she designed it for. It was kind of a weekend project that she forgot about. He must have found it in her lab, though, when she left him alone earlier.

“Your external security is extremely robust,” Sora explains, “but your internal security is laughable. I didn’t download the secrets of the universe, but I did capture the specs of this base. I thought you might turn on me, and I would need to escape.”

“You’re the one who has turned,” Pribadium argues. “Don’t do this.”

Sora looks around, presumably searching for Pribadium!Two’s next substrate. “I like this one. She looks even less like you than you two before. It will be easier to tell you apart.” He approaches the console, and starts working it like a pro.

“Sora, this isn’t what she wanted. She’s literally gone to a better place. It’s fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Sora responds as he keeps working. “You two split from each other over a year ago, according to her. She and I apparently...” He trails off. “You don’t know her anymore. She was a different person, and I’m going to give her a choice.”

Pribadium shakes her head. “That goes against every principle you have. If you truly felt that way, you would have digitized and enhanced yourself years ago, yet here you are, a totally normal organic human. You of all people should understand our ways.”

“I’m not normal anymore.” He taps on the back of his neck where he would have applied the cephalobud. “Now I know why people do this. It’s better to have power than to not. Even if you don’t use it, it’s better to not let others have power over you.”

Pribadium sees the pod power up. “Don’t! You still have time to undo it!”

Sora hovers his hand over the interface and turns his head to look at Pribadium. “She’ll thank me one day, even if she’s mad now. Elle pense, donc...elle est.” He hits it.

The stasis pod continues to power up as Sora stands back. He watches it as he sidesteps over and unlocks the hatch for who now has to go back to being called Pribadium!One. They both watch now as the IDCode downloads and unpacks itself in the new body, rewiring the neural pathways in realtime to bring Pribadium!Two back to life. This wasn’t part of the plan, but there is nothing to be done about it now. Now that she’s alive, she will want to stay that way, which Sora would probably point out means she always deserved to. Duping is philosophically complex. Millennia after it was first being contemplated, ethicists have still not figured it out.

The pod opens. The new Pribadium!Two climbs out. She regards them. “Report.”

Microstory 2735: The Dead Do Die

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

Sora gently takes Pribadium!One by the arm. “Wait, no. Don’t go out there.”

“I have to,” she explains. “I know what it is, but I have to see for myself.”

“Just have a robot go out to retrieve it for you,” he insists.

“There’s too much interference,” she claims. “That’s the whole problem. Organic eyes need to see it for us to know what happened, and what’s happening now.”

“Which is more likely?” Sora questions. “That there’s some kind of signal jammer between us and whatever’s out there, or that something there disables technology?”

Pribadium sighs. “I suppose that makes sense.” She pauses to think about it. “I will send a drone, and if we lose contact with that, we’ll cut our losses and move on.”

“I think that would be a much better idea,” he decides.

They don’t lose contact with the drone. It doesn’t have to get too close to the dimensional barrier. When it arrives, it shows that Pribadium!Two’s shuttle isn’t the only thing drifting around. All of the probes they dispatched prior to the manned mission are nearby. They’re all dead. The equipment is dead, the ship is dead, and Pribadium!Two is dead. She could not have possibly survived that; not in that body. The shuttle is entirely twisted—no, it’s unraveled, like peeling a citrus fruit in one single cut.

Pribadium!One—or should she just go by Pribadium now?—pulls up her privileged vault. Vonearthans share knowledge in a series of databases collectively known as the central archives. Since time travel isn’t common knowledge, travelers keep their own records on special drives that only they can access. It’s vital to keep this information separate and protected. “I think I’ve seen this before.” She stops, because she doesn’t know what to search for. “What was it? Corkscrew? Coil? No, spiral.” She runs the search, and pulls up the lone entry. “Spiral Station. It doesn’t say why they designed it that way. It doesn’t even say what it’s for. But this must be why. It must have been unraveled by quintessence. Whoever these people are, they have bulk tech.”

“You don’t know who they are?” Sora asks. “Your database doesn’t say anything?”

“It only observes that it exists, and knows the name. It says nothing else.”

“But if it’s operational then maybe she survived her unraveling,” Sora offers.

“That thing was gigantic,” Pribadium explains. “If people survived, it’s because there was enough room in the empty interior spaces. The shuttle was far too small.”

“Okay, so what about her back-up? I know where your body library is, so let’s go and bring her back online. That’s the whole point of that place.”

Pribadium sighs. “I would have gotten an alert that her mind was transmitted back to us. Something went terribly wrong out there. The drone is gathering data, which we will synthesize. She didn’t die for nothing, I’ll tell you that.”

“No. Even if she wasn’t streaming until the very last second, she would still have a back-up, because she was streaming any number of seconds prior to that,” he reasons.

“That’s not what she wants. I know, because she was me. The stream must end at the same millisecond of death. If there is any gap, it’s not really her. It’s only a very convincing copy.” The only hope they have of getting her back is if she managed to survive it, and ends up in Fort Underhill. That won’t happen for some time, though. She will go to the afterlife simulation first, and Pribadium doesn’t have access to that system. “Trust me, I know myself. Our personal protocol is to destroy all lingering IDCode.”

“I refuse to accept that.” Sora runs off. Towards the substrate library.

Microstory 2734: The Cost of Time

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

They realized something after Pribadium!Two shot Sora, dispatching him to the holding cell in an instant. This has to be a manned mission, because somebody needs to get eyes on that barrier, but that person doesn’t have to die permanently if something goes wrong. They just need to be streaming their consciousness to the base, which both Pribadiums are doing all the time anyway. It is Sora who figures this out, which is embarrassing. It’s not that he’s too dumb, but they should have realized it ahead of time. Smart people sometimes get so laser-focused on what they’re doing, and iterating the work as needed, they can forget the more obvious solutions in front of them. Well, if he understands that, she can let him out. He’s not going to cause trouble.

Sora sighs as he’s stepping out. “So, which one of you is going to go out there?”

“She will,” Pribadium!One explains. “We flipped a coin...an actual, physical coin.”

He nods. “I notice that you two look a little different now.”

“Yes,” Pribadium!One begins. “This was my birth form. I sometimes make adjustments, or just wear entirely different forms. I have a whole library of substrates to pick from. I realized it might be confusing for you, so I changed.”

He chuckles once as he’s shaking his head. “You people switch bodies like I would my hats. I know, it’s commonplace for you, but it’s hard to get used to. No one on Proxima Doma or Doma Tertia would ever dream of such...”

“Of such a brazen and thoughtless attitude towards what you consider to be the core of your being?” Pribadium!One guesses.

“Flexibility,” Sora clarifies. “I was going to say flexibility.”

She nods. “I’m sorry she threw you in here. She didn’t have to do that. It’s not like you could have overpowered us and snuck off the base alone. You don’t have any authorization codes... Anyway, it wasn’t right, and I hope we can still be friends.”

Sora smiles. “We once were enemies. It feels like years ago, but it’s been a day.”

“I never thought of us as enemies, Mr. Shimizu,” Pribadium!One explains. “You must understand that while what you and your people were trying to do was unique, that’s what my job is. People have all sorts of complaints. Back when the post-scarcity society was first blossoming, access accelerated rapidly. What once cost became totally free. It became an expectation. But post-scarcity doesn’t mean no economy. Energy credits were devised because energy and raw material are the only things that matter in the universe. Because they both give you time. People come to Gatewood expecting to get whatever they want with no limitations, but it’s more nuanced than that. I sit through many negotiations. I’ve never been taken hostage before, but...”

He’s bashful. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t complain about being in there for all of five minutes when I kept you locked up for weeks.”

“I forgive you,” Pribadium!One promises.

Pribadium!Two appears on screen. “I forgive you too, and I’m sorry too.”

“Thank you,” Sora replies. He breathes to reset. “So, are you ready to launch?”

“I just need the authorization from the quote-unquote real Pribadium.”

Pribadium!One tilts her head. “You have the greenlight. Godspeed.”

“God is dead.” Pribadium!Two’s shuttle launches and heads for the barrier.

Only a couple hundred meters from the dimensional barrier, the base loses contact with it. Then a bogey shows up on sensors on the opposite side of the bubble.

Microstory 2727: False Convictions

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash

Sora stares at Pribadium for a moment. “We can’t use your machine to go back in time to stop the Teaguardians from destroying the world, but we can do it to visit my dead friend?” He shakes his head at the apparent contradiction.

“We don’t need a time machine for that,” Pribadium!One notes. “Do you remember how she was talking about other universes; how ours crashed into another?”

“Yes,” Sora confirms.

“I don’t know what universe that would have been,” Pribadium!One begins, “but it’s not the only one—not by a long shot. In fact, a couple of them are our siblings. One of these universes, which are known as branes, was named Fort Underhill. Its, uhh...” She hesitates. She’s not really supposed to talk about this stuff to the humans. That’s an antiquated word, but it just refers to people who don’t know about things like temporal manipulation or psychic abilities. But that ship has sailed, so she might as well go for it. “Fort Underhill is where you go when you die. Actually, you go to a virtual simulation first, but at some point, you get moved to the other brane, which is in base reality.”

Sora stares at her again, narrowing his eyes. “Who goes to this place when they die? Your mind? Immortals like Tertius Valerias and Aeterna Valeria?”

“No, everybody,” Pribadium!One clarifies. She sighs. “You may think you’re undigitized, but you’re not. You were born this way. I can’t explain the biology, I never got much into it, but it’s part of how humans are. We’ve been this way for millennia.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No! No, it’s not true. If humans have always been digitized, we would know. We would have to.”

“I think we kind of did,” Pribadium!One says. “I don’t know how well you know your history, but when researchers were first trying to figure out how to do it, they made a quantum leap in progress. It was the most apropos use of that term ever. It was when they proved that consciousness existed in the quantum realm, and I think this is why.”

Sora stands, and starts to pace out of frustration. “So my convictions—my refusal to become like all of you—they mean nothing? I can’t die anyway? Elke isn’t dead?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she explains. “That was some time ago, and I believe there is a way to die for good in Fort Underhill, but that would be a choice.”

“Yet you have some unique way of contacting the dead?” Sora scoffs.

“I know people in high places.” She’s friends with the people who are responsible for it, but she has never told them that she found a way to access it. She kind of thought they might find out eventually, and when time travel is involved, eventually is synonymous with always. They have never brought it up, though she has had to use it on occasion. There was one time where a man from Castlebourne asked her to reunite an undigitized friend of his with her dead parents. They evidently gave her advice, and now that woman is an immortal flying superhero. So she doesn’t take this for granted.

“It won’t work,” Pribadium!Two says. She’s opening the medical pod, and slowly making her way out of it. “As I told you, this is a parallel reality. Your interversal communicator was calibrated to the main sequence.”

“Good point,” Pribadium!One says. “That would prove if you’re telling the truth.”

“If?” Pribadium!Two questions. “I definitely am.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” Pribadium!One walks over to the communicator.

Pribadium!Two violently grabs her wrist. “If you try, I’ll have to kill you.”