Showing posts with label customs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label customs. Show all posts

Saturday, December 6, 2025

Extremus: Year 117

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
It’s over. After some long conversations with Arqut, Silveon, and Audrey, she has decided to divorce herself from the ship’s drama. Her promotion to Admiral Emirta wasn’t just to get her to stop having to work. It was an encouragement to just live the rest of her life in peace. Silveon is not going to update her on his progress with Waldemar, if there is any, or if it backslides. She’s going to be a mother, a wife, and a person from now on. The clone that Sevara supposedly has, and the ones that Regulus claims he can find for her, are just going to have to be a problem for future generations. Back in the stellar neighborhood, the majority of people are set to live until the heat death of the universe. Whether that will actually happen for them or not doesn’t matter. It’s certainly the plan. If they commit to something open-ended or indefinite, they may have to continue on with those responsibilities over the course of many, many lifetimes. It doesn’t work like that on Extremus. Barring The Question—which is really only about being alive to see the new home world, not about living forever—people here are supposed to be able to die. They should do this without any stress or regrets. Tinaya doesn’t know how much time she has left, but she has an idea of how long now, and she wants to spend the rest of her time with her family. Waldemar isn’t a part of that. Most people aren’t.
Today is Silveon’s birthday. He has the day off from both of his jobs. Waldemar has pretended that he wishes that he could be here with him, but he has to work. He isn’t simply allowing Audrey to go, but actively encouraging it, again as a way to purport himself to be a nice guy who wants his friends to be happy. Of course, they celebrate the day every year, but Silveon says that this one is special. He won’t say why, because 29 is not a universal milestone in aging, but Audrey agrees that it’s significant. It clearly has something to do with the old timeline, which they’re not allowed to talk about. Tinaya has told them it’s okay to talk about that specifically—she doesn’t want to just stop hearing about their lives altogether—but they insist on staying silent. And that’s just going to have to be okay.
They’re all wearing conical part hats, and being really cheesy with it. He even asked that they give him gifts. That isn’t a traditional practice in this culture, but they wanna have some fun. They all did research to find out what people used to give their kids on their birthdays on Earth. Audrey gave him a coffee table book that’s just unremarkably photographed images of various landmarks; some manmade, some natural. She put a lot of effort into it, drawing from the central archives, and crafting the layout herself, instead of just having the AI render it. Arqut synthesized a car key, and a box of something called condoms, which is evidently what people used to use to protect themselves from pregnancy or disease when they had sex. According to Arqut’s research, these are the kinds of things dads usually gave their sons, but typically at younger ages, as parts of their rites of passage. Tinaya is about to retrieve her gift when Arqut stops her. “No, it’s not over. You think that key is just a symbol?”
“Are you telling me that you gave me a car?” Silveon asks.
Tinaya glares at her husband.
Arqut smirks. “Join hands.” They hold hands and teleport to an assembly bay. It’s relatively narrow, and very long, with smaller assembly rooms branching off of it. While every part, and every machine, and every piece of equipment they need can be synthesized, someone still has to put all the disparate parts together. These are not engineers, mechanics, or technicians, but they study all of those disciplines. They’re the ones who build everything, instead of just each department performing the assemblies for themselves. The room is mostly empty, except for a large tarp that is obviously draped over a land vehicle of some kind. There is either nothing to assemble at the moment, or he requested the synthwrights to clear out for the occasion.
“Arqut!” Tinaya scolds.
“What, it’s no big deal. I found the model in the archives, and thought it looked cool. I wanted to see it in real life, and I wanted to experience this moment. Every father does this for their kid. Or did, anyway.”
“The synthwrights have jobs to do!” Tinaya argues.
“I didn’t use any current synthwrights for this,” Arqut defends. “They’re all my buddies, and retired. We play cards together.” He does love his old Earthan customs.
“You used resources,” Tinaya presses.
“Oh, stop worrying so much. We’re living on a ship of abundance! Don’t you people wanna see it?” Arqut approaches the vehicle, and takes one corner of the tarp.
Tinaya sighs. “Silvy?”
Silveon laughs. “It’s too much, but yeah, of course I wanna see it.”
“Help me with the other corner, Aud.” Arqut and Audrey take their corners, and pull the tarp up and over. No one knows how to describe what’s underneath. They literally don’t have the vocabulary to differentiate it from any of the other dozens of models that must have existed on ancient Earth. “The archive called it a 2001 Pontiac Aztek.” He smiles proudly.
“Forgive me, but...what’s he supposed to do with this?” Audrey asks.
“Well, he’s supposed to sit in it,” Arqut reasons. “That’s what you did with cars. No one could teleport, and they didn’t have spaceships back then. I mean, some people could teleport in secret, and I think some rich people had a few spaceships, but for most people, this was the only way to get around. Come on!” he says excitedly. “Aud, you sit in the back. Can you figure out how to open the door?”
She rolls her eyes, and opens that hatch in the rear.
“You’re next to me, Silvo,” Arqut says, getting in on the left side, in the front.
Tinaya reluctantly takes the seat right behind Arqut.
“Um...am I supposed to have a seat?” Audrey asks, curled up in the trunk.
Arqut struggles to look over his shoulder. “I meant, the back next to Tinaya, Aud. Jesus.”
“Well, you didn’t say that,” Audrey argues before coming around, and climbing back inside the right way. “This isn’t the back, it’s the middle,” she mutters.
“Okay.” Arqut breathes deeply. “Comfortable, right?” He reaches over Silveon’s knees, and opens a small compartment. “Look at this. Funny mechanism. This tiny little mirror here?” He adjusts it a little. “Notice these other mirrors on the outside. And get this...there’s no display. That’s not a screen. It’s just a window.”
“We studied this in school, dad, I know what these things are,” Silveon explains. “We’re not archaeologists. But anyway, if this is a gift for me, why am I not the one sitting behind what are obviously the controls.”
“You don’t know how to drive yet,” Arqut contends.
“And you do?” Tinaya questions.
Arqut releases an evil smirk as he’s looking at his wife in the small mirror between him and his son. “I’ve been taking VR lessons.” He looks over at Silveon. “The key, my good lad.” He takes it, and sticks it into the slot on the side of the wheel thing. He pauses for dramatic effect before twisting it. The engine roars. Did it have to be that loud, or did people back then like it?
“Okay, that’s enough,” Tinaya warns.
“We haven’t gotten to the best part. You can’t see, but there are big buttons on the floor. You push one to go, and one to stop.”
“Well, we’re not going to go anywhere, so that’s irrelevant,” Tinaya says.
“Ah, we won’t go far, and I won’t go fast. It’s fine.” Arqut depresses the pedal and the car lurches. “Whoops, okay. It’s just a little different when it’s real.” It lurches again, but not quite as much. “Give me a moment to get into a good rhythm.”
Tinaya is really worried now. “We need to stop, this is dangerous.”
“It’s all right, Tiny” Arqut promises. “I know what I’m doing.” The car starts moving forward. It’s not going particularly fast, but it’s smoother than the first two attempts. They’re moving down the bay. Lights flip on in response to them.
“Oh, this is interesting, you can really feel it,” Audrey muses.
“You should feel the bumps on the road in the simulation,” Arqut boasts. “I bet it was a hell of a ride in real life.” He speeds up, probably thinking that Tinaya won’t notice.
She notices. “Slow down. There’s nowhere to go.”
“We have plenty of room.” The bay almost runs the full length of the ship on its level. It’s not infinite, however.
“At least turn on autopilot,” Tinaya demands.
Arqut bursts out laughing. “They didn’t have that back then!” He speeds up. Faster, and faster still. It really is reckless at this point, inarguably so. He had some room to play around before, but now, he could get them all killed.
“Arqut!” Tinaya cries.
“Just relax, I know what I’m doing,” he assures her.
“That’s it. I’m teleporting us all out of here.”
“Suppresed,” Arqut volleys. “You think I don’t know you?”
“We’re about to hit the bulkhead!” Audrey tries to alert him.
The wall is indeed getting closer.
“She’s right, we’re gonna crash!” Silveon shouts.
They all start screaming now, even Arqut, though for different reasons. Just before they collide with the wall, he reaches up, and flips a switch next to the little mirror.
There was a lot of debate when Project Extremus was first being conceived. The design of the vessel was the first—and arguably most important—detail that they had to nail down. One idea proposed was to make it relatively small, and expand the spaces they needed using parallel dimensions. History has forgotten why they decided against this. It wouldn’t have really contradicted their mandate to be a generation ship, or to reach the most extreme region of the galaxy. They just chose not too. Parallel and pocket dimensions are still used here, though at far smaller scales. These prove, however, that they’re possible, and it’s a simple enough task to adapt one such of these generators to something larger.
The world around them has shifted slightly. They’re still on the ship, but everything is a little fuzzy and discolored. They pass right through the bulkhead, and into the corridor on the other side. Arqut continues to drive them around this level, which is so far unoccupied by anyone else. They don’t know whether that means it’s more like a lifeless facsimile, or just everyone is at lunch right now. They get their answer when Arqut lifts a lever, and raises them across the z-axis to the deck above. There are a ton of people here, going about their day, and not paying them any mind. He drives right through this as if they’re not even there, just like the walls.
“Okay, now this really is dangerous,” Tinaya admonishes her husband. “We could slip back into realspace at any moment. One brief disruption in power, or the frequency generator, and you could end up killing several people.”
“Multiple redundancies,” Arqut clarifies. “It’s not gonna happen.” He continues to drive around aimlessly, though with less enthusiasm than before. The moment has passed for them to get into it. As he’s driving, he looks around. No one is having all that much fun. Audrey is nervous, but trying not to show it. Tinaya is irritated, and not hiding it at all. Silveon looks rather bored, and maybe distracted? Arqut stops the car, but doesn’t phase them back. “I just thought that this would be an exciting thing to do before...”
“Before what?” Silveon asks him.
Arqut takes a deep breath and prepares himself. He doesn’t face anyone, though. He’s just staring through the front window. “I’m dying. Cancer. They think my weird shapeshifting power is eating me up from the inside.”
“I thought you weren’t using that,” Audrey says.
“It apparently doesn’t matter,” Arqut replies. “In one...maybe two years, Tinaya and I are going to die. It’s okay. It’s time. We’re both old. But Silvy, we missed out on your childhood. I guess I was just trying to recapture that magic. I’m feeling fear and stress about the future, and I suppose I took my nostalgia for those first couple of years when we just had a growing boy a little too far; back to a time when none of us was even born yet.”
Silvy nods reverently. “I understand the impulse. I miss my childhood too, and I wish I could have given you that. I wish, at the worst, I could have jumped into my younger self’s body when he was nineteen or twenty. But Waldemar couldn’t wait. That’s what I thought anyway. I don’t think I’ve been helping. So all this was a waste of time. You lost your kid, and I lost my chance to die fighting alongside my brothers and sisters in the resistance.”
“You did the right thing coming back here, son,” Tinaya tells him sincerely. She looks over at Audrey. “You both did. You’re our children now, and we love you. When your father and I finally leave, as he said, in a couple years still, I know that you will be all right. I’ll know that...you’ll keep working towards a better future. Just don’t forget to find some happiness for yourself. It’s not all about the mission. I’ve recently learned that. Don’t wait as long as me.”
The four of them start to hold and pat each other’s shoulders, and hug, and kiss, awkwardly in this vehicle. Then Arqut drives them back to the bay, where they schedule it for disassembly and material reclamation. Silveon keeps the key, though.
“Oh, wait. Mom, you had a gift too?”
“Right.” Tinaya reaches behind the couch cushion, and pulls out an envelope. “These are the master codes. I’ve been collecting them over the years, and finally secured the last ones I needed a couple of months ago. They will grant a user control of every system, and override any command. No single person on Extremus has ever had them.” She hands him the envelope. “Until now.”

Friday, June 25, 2021

Microstory 1655: Linsetol Revealed

Bulk traveler Joseph Jacobson came to me recently with a story about his adventures in Linsetolverse. He corrected some assumptions I made about the universe. It’s hard for me to get a good look at it from so far away, so it was nice to hear some details about the way they lived. He arrived, as he always does, as a human, shocking the Linsetol, who had never seen anything like him before. They knew it was best to keep this alien a secret, because they didn’t want to cause any confusion or panic. Joseph has the ability to navigate the bulkverse. That’s kind of his whole deal, so he could have made a deliberate effort to avoid showing up where his presence could negatively impact the development of the locals, but he usually just spins a metaphorical wheel, and takes his chances. He’s immortal, so he doesn’t concern himself with preparation, or vigilance. Anyway, things seemed to work out fine, and Joseph spent a few years there, learning about their culture. The language was the hardest part. As they were evolved from dinosaurs, the Linsetol have different vocal physiology, and produce sounds that are impossible for a human to replicate. With the aid of some engineers, Joseph actually managed to build a device that would translate his thoughts into a digital voice. It was not a linguistic translator, though. Joseph still had to understand the language in order for the device to not simply come out as English. He probably could have done it differently, but just didn’t feel the need. It worked both ways, allowing a Linsetol to speak in English, should the need ever arise, but this wasn’t something that Joseph needed of them. Once he was able to communicate with them effectively, he started learning their customs, because that was his favorite part about traveling. He was usually just going to a different version of Earth, so it wasn’t like the topography was particularly exciting. Understanding other people was the entire point.

As it turns out, the Linsetol are quite like humans. I was wrong about them being foreign. I think the language barrier was clouding my vision. They’re just as diverse, just as curious, and just as capable of doing terrible things. They measure time in the same way, though it’s different on prehistoric Earth, because the celestial bodies are moving differently. Shorter days, longer years. They developed fairly advanced technology, which I can see from my perspective, but they never got very far into space. Upon realizing how bad for their environment nonrenewable energy sources were, they outlawed them. They outlawed them across the globe, and pursued renewables like solar and wind power. Unfortunately, such things are not conducive to sending rockets up into space, so space exploration was pretty much off the table without fusion or antimatter rockets, which weren’t destined to be developed for many decades. They didn’t make it that far, because of their isolationistic habits. That’s one thing that I was right about. They were capable of demanding universal laws for the protection of their world, but they didn’t possess a spirit of cooperation, which stifled ingenuity, and slowed progress. They couldn’t last forever this way. They didn’t die out because they destroyed their planet, or succumbed to some pandemic. It was a population growth problem. Their drive to propagate the species was much lower than it is for humans. It was never zero, but it wasn’t enough, and over time, they just couldn’t maintain the species. Each generation was less inclined to bear children on the individual level, and that eventually caught up to them.

Friday, April 16, 2021

Microstory 1605: Linsetol Evolved

As I’ve explained, the closer a universe is, the easier it is for me to access. That’s why most of my stories are going to be about humans, and will mostly take place on some version of Earth. In truth, most universes aren’t centered on Earth, and in fact don’t even have an Earth. The ones that do, we’ll just say—out of no desire to fully understand the physics of it all—are considered spinoffs of the original. The first rule of probable reality is that any world that can be conceived—and whose consistent physical laws don’t countermine the laws that are true of every universe—can exist. Furthermore, if such a qualifying world is conceived, then it will exist. It may only be stable enough to last for a brief period of time before it collapses, but the very thought of it will conjure it into being, unless it’s something crazy and impossible, like many cartoons. It is important to understand this, because it’s possible for there to be a version of Earth out there where the mesozoic extinction events played out differently, and while most of the life during these times were still wiped out, the diversity of life that survived and continued to evolve was slightly greater than what you’ve learned about in your own universe. By cross-referencing paleontological studies from the more familiar branes, I have determined that the one we’re discussing today contains an intelligent species that evolved from what you would call troodon. While they resemble their ancient counterparts significantly, the similarities are not enough to draw a definitive conclusion, but they are very clearly not human, and the time of their reign as the supreme species on their world took place millions of years before humans would have evolved anyway. This is the troodon world, but from what I can gather about their society, they do not call themselves this. It’s hard to tell what anything they say means, since their language is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered, and I am not a linguist. I can make some assumptions about their history as I watch it unfold from outside of time, but I can’t get a clear picture, because their customs are so foreign to me. There is no true equivalent to how humans operate, and I can only understand so much about them. The Linsetol ultimately developed a highly advanced civilization before they met their final fate. They didn’t dispatch any manned missions into space, but they did send up satellites, and they had a pretty decent understanding of how the cosmos worked. Their history isn’t riddled with as much war as most human Earths experienced, but that doesn’t mean they were peaceful and kind. The Linsetol were isolationists, whose nations each stuck to their own corners, and kept mostly to themselves. They liked to be independent and self-sufficient. If they were living in a region without a particular resource, then they either found a way to live without it, or they moved somewhere else, as long as it didn’t interfere with any other group’s territory. After all this moving around, all the best areas were taken, and while they made attempts to develop more sustainable options, the population of each faction dwindled until the species went extinct. There was no reason to war against each other, because everyone was in the same boat at around the same time, so it would only delay the inevitable. They were unable to cooperate, so they were always doomed to fail.