Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts

Friday, January 30, 2026

Microstory 2595: Renata Recognizes Her Mistake in Feeling Safe in This New Dome

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Renata recognizes her mistake in feeling safe in this new dome. Of course Libera would find them, and of course she would get ahead of them. They have a plan for this, though. This Provider guy knows everything about Osman. Nothing gets in or out without his knowledge. At least almost nothing. He is not aware of the meta-tunnel that brought the team here. It doesn’t help them now, because it only goes back to the Usona dome. If they were to use an out-of-game route, they would be able to travel to Huaxia or Ever. The former is a non-starter as they are a clear enemy, and everyone on the team would stand out like a sore thumb. While Ever is technically an ally, there are some internal sociopolitical issues that make it a complicated place to be right now. Renata would very much like to see a map of this planet, so she can get a real frame of reference. She’s been told that it’s three-dimensional, so parts of one country are actually up above the sky, making that sky fake. Obviously, she shouldn’t be thinking about this now, because her main problem is currently standing in front of her, enjoying her reaction.
The Provider reaches out with both arms, and lays them across the Grangers’ shoulders, gently but obligatorily guiding them through the room. “It’s important to note that I like a good catfight as much as anyone, but you’re presently in my home. Most of my guests don’t know what it is I do, and if they do, they don’t know the particulars. But they all know not to ask questions. And that only works, because from the outside, I look clean.” Someone waves at him, so he has to smile back. “Hi, how are you? Thanks for coming. Try my signature drink.” He goes right back to being serious again. “I don’t much care what the NSD is after, and which one of you is a genuine officer, and which is the traitor. What I care about is my business, and my business is mostly getting people out of Osman.” He lets go of them, and literally shoos them away with a low sweep of his hands. “So, please...ladies...get out.”
“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Renata argues, holding her hand out before one of the Provider’s guards can take hold of her. “We need to get out of the country, and we need your help. We didn’t come for the signature cocktail.” According to Lycander, you can travel from any country to another using in-universe travel procedures, regardless of how the domes are situated relative to each other. And in-universe, those travel procedures are restricted in and out of Osman. They wouldn’t have come to this dome at all if they had had more time, but after Quidel was killed, they just needed to select the closest option. Now they’re trying to get to Elbis, and the Provider is the only way to do that while staying under the radar. “We can pay.”
“Yes, that sounds quite important, and I can always use a bit more money.” He places his index finger against his lips as if he’s considering her request. “Um. The thing is, I don’t need this kind of heat on me.”
“What heat?” Libera questions. She’s such a talker, it’s shocking that she managed to go this long without hearing the sound of her own voice.
“Why, haven’t you heard?” The Provider asks. He snaps his fingers twice at one of his men, who hands him a folder. “You’ve both been burned.”
Renata takes the file, and reluctantly lets her mother look at it with her. He’s right. A warrant is out for their extradition. The NSD thinks that they’ve committed treason. The front page doesn’t say much about it, because it’s what gets out to official governmental channels. The pages behind it are internal, and the Provider probably only has them because getting his hands on things that he’s not supposed to even know about is his job.
“They know you’re in Osman,” he reiterates what they’re reading on those latter pages.
“This says there’s a reward for capture,” Renata points out. She might worry about giving him ideas, but the guy is very put-together. That’s not something he missed. He must have some reason he’s not trying to cash in.
“Usona stays out of my business, and I stay out of theirs. I’m not interested in forming a relationship with your agency. Now you have all the information, so go.” He shoos them away again.
The guards take hold of their arms now, and turn them around. As soon as they do, a group of well-dressed thugs are walking up the steps. The leader holds his arms out demonstratively. “Provi, you didn’t invite me.”
“Who are these guys?” Renata whispers to Libera.
“Mercs,” Libera whispers back. “Mostly ex-NSD agents who got screwed over, but we believe they’re funded by the State Security Directorate.” Ugh, Sclovo.
“It must have been an oversight,” the Provider claims. “Please, welcome.” He doesn’t want them here, but he doesn’t want any trouble either.
“We’re just here to meet up with a few friends,” the head merc says to the Provider before deliberately adjusting his gaze to Renata and Libera. He points with two fingers on each hand, in the general direction of the Provider and his security team, like a flight attendant indicating the emergency exits.
The other mercs pull out their guns, and start firing at the guards. Chaos ensues. The party-goers start to scream, and run in all directions, not knowing where the danger lies. The guards who have survived so far start shooting back. Renata and Libera duck away from the bullets, but both of them get shot anyway. “Remember what you said to Polly!” Libera cries. “Do that to yourself! You can’t feel pain, and all that!”
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Renata shouts back, covering her head protectively.
“I told you, we’re not enemies! I still see you as my daughter, and I want us to work together! Goddammit, I didn’t bring a gun.”
Two of the mercs find them amidst the mayhem and confusion, and begin to drag them through the door, heading for the steps. They are very strong, because they’re androids. Wait, they’re androids, and non-emergent ones at that. Their lives don’t matter. Renata manages to reach under her dress, and retrieve Demo’s gun. She shoots her captor in the face, and then shoots Libera’s out of instinct. More mercs come out of the woodwork. She manages to shoot three more of them, but runs out of bullets, so they stand up and start to fight them off by hand.
“I can get us out of here!” Libera shouts.
“I can’t trust you!” Renata yells back.
“You wanna trust these guys?”
Renata looks around, but doesn’t see Quidel or Demo. And Lycander? Well, Lycander is gone. She growls, and begrudgingly follows Libera out of the parking lot, punching all the bad guys along the way.

Friday, January 16, 2026

Microstory 2585: Renata Has Grown Bored as They Wait for the Next Assault

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Renata has grown bored as they wait for the next assault. She and her mother successfully forced the first group of attackers off the road, and then another one once they reached the log cabin, but there hasn’t been a peep since. They’re still here, having already buried the bodies in shallow graves. The worry is not that someone else will come, but that they won’t. They are the decoy team, while Quidel and Lycander are the ones in charge of the real package. There is a procedure for meeting back up later, but that’s following 24 hours of no activity at the safehouse. It involves switching cars, and traveling to a small town farther east.
“Hey,” she says, holding her cup of tea. “Are you the strong, silent type, or can you talk?”
“I can talk,” the driver replies. “I just don’t usually say much.”
“That’s basically the definition of the strong silent type. Can I sit?”
“Be my guest.”
She sits down on the swing, still wrapped in her quilt. It’s funny, sitting here with a stranger, but she’s sick of being inside, and there is no other seating on the porch. She takes a sip. “What about your name? Is it a secret? Does my mother just call you The Driver?”
He chuckles. “It’s Polykarpos. Polykarpos Goldd. Everyone just calls me Polly.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Polly. I’m Renata, by the way. I don’t know if I ever said that.”
“Madam Granger speaks of you often.”
“She does?”
“Yes. She’s quite proud of you.”
“Did she tell you to say that?”
“I work for her, but I have my own opinions. She tells me what to do, not how to think.”
She nods, and doesn’t speak for a moment as they just enjoy the sunrise. “How long have you worked for the NSD?”
“I technically don’t. I work for a company that contracts to the NSD. Many low-level jobs like mine are like that.”
“I wouldn’t call it low-level. That was some smooth driving while we were being shot at. You didn’t flinch at the bullets. You must have some tactical training.”
Polly smiles. “Well, I wasn’t always only a driver.”
That’s when Libera interrupts. “Ren, could you help me with something? We need some more firewood from the shed.”
“I can do that, sir,” Polly says as he’s standing up.
“No, I want my daughter,” Libera discourages.
Renata knows this tone well. Libera doesn’t actually need help with anything, but wants to speak privately. She downs the rest of her tea, which has already gotten cold out here in the winter woods, and sets it precariously on the window sill. A metaphor for her and her mother’s relationship?
They head out into the shed, and Libera just stands there, not even pretending that the request was genuine. “You don’t need to be talking to him too much.”
“I’m a big girl, and I actually think he’s younger than me.”
“That’s not the point,” Libera contends. “He’s...irrelevant.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, that he’s expendable?”
“Look, some people in this world are simply more important than others. You could call them...exemplars. I’m an exemplar, you’re an exemplar. Polly is just...background. I have no plans for him.”
“Plans? What about Lycander, is he background too? I saw the way you looked at him, like you couldn’t trust him. Do you too have bad history?”
Libera smirks. “Lycander is something else.”
“And Quidel?”
“He’s very something else.”
Renata shakes her head, and consults her watch. “Let’s go find that small town where we’re supposed to meet up.”
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet,” Libera says.
“We have to wait that long to make the call,” Renata reasons, “but we may as well get there. I would rather wait by a real bathroom.” She begins to leave.
“We have a nice bathroom here.”
“Get the car!” Renata shouts up to Polly as she’s walking back to the cabin. “I wanna get some real breakfast, instead of these MREs.”
“Yes, sir.” Polly hops down the steps, and heads towards the back, where they hid the car loosely under some brush.
Renata, meanwhile, picks her teacup up to prepare to wash it.
Libera starts walking up the steps as she’s watching Polly walk away. “He followed your orders.”
“What?”
“You told him to do something, and he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even look over at me for guidance. He just went off to do it.”
“Yeah, we bonded a little. He trusts me. I’m sure I was nicer to him in those two minutes than you ever have been, if you think he’s only background,” Renata says with airquotes.
Libera scowls at her daughter. “Go make your bed. We should leave this place looking like we’re trying to make it look like no one has been here for months.”
“Yes, sir! Commander, sir!” Renata replies sarcastically. She goes back into the cabin even though her bed is already made because she’s no longer a child. While she’s finishing the dishes, she hears the sound of gunfire. She drops the cup into the sink, letting it shatter. She grabs the pistol from the counter, and heads outside.
It’s another group of attackers, hoping to get their hands on their special device, not knowing that it isn’t really here. She sees three men a few meters from the cabin, pointing their shotguns at Polly. He’s sitting in the dirt, holding the right side of his chest with one hand, and trying to drag himself away from the shooters with his other.
“One more step, and he dies!” one of the bad guys says in a Javelotian accent. Javelot is one of their closest allies. “Gun on the ground!”
Renata drops her gun.
“Wait!” Libera is walking through the door behind Renata, her hands up in supposed surrender. In one hand, she’s holding the decoy bag. “You came for this, you can have it!”
“Drop it down the steps,” the Javelotian guy demands.
“Does that sound wise and safe?” Libera asks rhetorically. She sets it down on the porch, and begins to back away from it, as does Renata in the opposite direction.
Two of the Javelotians creep up to it, pointing their weapons at the ladies, but of course, it doesn’t matter. The bomb in the bag explodes them both when one of them tries to open it, and the surprise is enough to push the remaining Javelotian off balance. Libera pulls her own pistol out of the back of her pants, and shoots him dead. It was a short-lived attack, but they’re not out of the woods yet.

Thursday, January 15, 2026

Microstory 2584: Renata Rushes up to Match her Mother’s Stride as They Escape the Bank

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata rushes up to match her mother’s stride as they escape the bank. To be fair, she’s the one lugging this heavy thing around. They slip out the backdoor, and head for a black sedan. It’s not the car that Libera drove up with, and it has its own driver, which suggests that she was planning to make off with the device the whole time. But Renata is not going to confront her about this, because right now, they have a job to do. “How are you moving this fast?” she questions.
“You can move just as fast, dear, if not faster,” Libera replies as she ducks into the backseat, and uses hand gestures to urge her daughter to join her quickly. The car speeds off.
“Because I’m a robot?” Renata questions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ren. You’re not a robot.”
“Where to, Madam?” the driver asked.
“Lightwood Safehouse,” Libera answers. A codename, no doubt.
They sit in silence for a moment.
“Don’t you have questions?” Libera poses.
“Did dad know?” Renata responds.
“No.”
“Did you get me into the NSD in the first place, or did you just get me the job at the bank?”
Libera doesn’t speak right away. “I never wanted this life for you, until you grew up. Well, I still didn’t necessarily want it, but I could see that it would be a great fit for you. You’re resourceful, intelligent, and you learn fast.”
“A little too fast,” Renata mumbles under her breath.
“What was that?”
“You thought my job would be safe? You really didn’t know about this thingamajig, and all the other stuff there?”
“I knew there were other things there, but they were supposed to be outdated, outmoded, obsolete, legacy innovations,” she says, almost amusingly repetitively.
“Why does the NSD keep an offsite bank for asset storage? Why aren’t they just stored somewhere in the basement of one of their own facilities.”
“It is an NSD facility. You’re asking why they use it as a front. It’s simple, really. The kind of activity you see at a dark storage site is the same as you’ll see at a normal bank. Strong locks, high security, enhanced surveillance, regular armored vehicles, loading and unloading. It’s unremarkable. You see that kind of thing at a bank, you shrug it off. You see it at a pet store, or a non-descript office building, you start asking questions. It’s not hard to track suspicious activity when you have enough data. That’s what NSD analysts do. They look through footage of our competing nations, and find clues based on atypical or unanticipated behavioral patterns at the city scale.”
“That’s why we’re doing this,” Renata says, making the connection. “We’re generating a narrative by exhibiting a pattern that our enemies are expecting. They were looking for people to walk out of that bank with purpose, carefully carrying a black duffel bag like this one. That’s why that truck has been following us since we left.”
“Nice spot, and that’s exactly right. They were predicting that we would try to sneak out the back with the asset to be as discreet as possible. We’re putting on a show, and clearly they’re watching on the edge of their seats.”
Renata sighs, and looks through the driver’s side window again at the truck that has been tailing them. “I wonder how the boys are doing.”
“We can’t know. Communicating with them would compromise the gambit.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have any more questions for me about my experience with the Division?”
“I don’t think I need your answers,” Renata starts to explain. “You can’t give me the specifics about your missions, and I’m already putting the pieces together in my head. A missed dance recital here, a hidden safe in your home office there. It all makes sense now. There’s not much I need to know that I can’t figure out on my own.”
Libera smiles. “This is why I got you the job at the bank, and why my superiors agreed to it. They wanted to keep an eye on you, yes. I wanted you to be fulfilled, yes. But the most important point is that, if I didn’t help you stay with us, you might go lend your services to someone else. It would be annoying if you wasted your time on the Domestic Affairs Bureau, or the local police, but truthfully, they were worried about you defecting to another country, or something. The bank was supposed to be fairly uneventful, but still engaging, since safety and security would be at the top of your priorities at all times. So while you weren’t expected to get into any fist fights or standoffs, it would still feel like work that matters. And it did matter. All banks serve a purpose. You’re not supposed to know what’s in the deposit boxes, whether you work at a front, or not.”
“I’m not mad. I understand your position. Like I was saying, this explains everything. I’m actually kind of relieved. You weren’t a bad mother...” She can’t believe she’s saying this. “...you’re a hero. If I could think of one decent reason to neglect your child, it would be to protect the whole country. How can I argue with that?”
Libera is smiling even wider now. “You continue to surprise me.”
Renata chuckles, then clocks the truck again. It’s getting closer, which means it might make a move soon. Their driver knows what he’s doing, so she’s not worried. More silence for a few minutes. “Did they really think I would defect?”
“Well, they didn’t think you would run off to Sclovo, or something, but maybe one of our strong allies, like Elbis or Pindor.”
“Well...I should be flattered.”
I would.”
“They’re getting closer, ma’am,” the driver interjects.
“I see that. Scooch over,” she says to Renata. Once the space between them is clear, she turns the armrest down, and places her hand on the panel behind it. It glows in the shape of a hand as it checks her biometrics. The panel slides away so Libera can pull a rifle out. “Are you ready?”
“No.” Renata takes out a gun for herself. “But that hasn’t stopped me yet.”

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

Microstory 2582: Lycander Pulls Into the Lot, and Orders the Fake Police to Surround the Carnage

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Lycander pulls into the lot, and orders the fake police to surround the carnage. He steps out of his car, and approaches Renata and Quidel. They’ve just laid down their weapons, and are holding their hands up just a little, even though they know that they’re all friends here. “Miss Granger. Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
“I didn’t know this bank was a front. I tried to get out.”
Lycander adjusts his pants by his belt, and looks around as his team begins the clean-up procedures. “Yeah, well, that decision was above my paygrade.”
“The question is,” Renata begins, “did they keep me close so they can make sure I don’t do anything stupid, or did they hope something like this would happen, to eliminate me without getting any blood on their hands?”
He chortles, and looks back at all the death and destruction. “Neither. They only assign people they trust to a place this important. You failed your initiation mission, but you showed leadership and ingenuity. There’s no way you could have known whether it was a powder or a gas. The water would have worked if it had been the former.”
She points at Quidel. “He survived. Did the other one?”
“She survived,” Lycander admits with a nod. “She did quit, though. Obviously, we had to protect both of them, but especially Q here, who asked to stay in the program.”
“I don’t blame you for lying to me. Not too long ago, I wanted to be one of the liars.” She takes a breath. “What happens now? I already know too much.”
Lycander nods again. “That’s also above my paygrade.” He looks back yet again, but this time to his car, where his boss is still waiting. “Listen, uh, a very important man is about to come talk to you. Not that you have an attitude problem, but you both need to be on your best behavior. He doesn’t like informality. He sent me over to assess the threat level, so I’m using this as an opportunity to warn you that he can end your career...or your life.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Sir,” Renata says.
He waves at his chauffeur with two fingers. The chauffeur opens the passenger door, and lets Director McWilliams out. He stays there while McWilliams buttons his blazer, and walks over with purpose. “Samani.”
“Director,” Lycander responds.
“So, these are the two that saved our asses this morning?” That’s a pretty colloquial thing for him to say.
“Yes, sir,” Lycander replies.
“Renata Granger, sir.” She holds up her hand, bloodied from the battle. “I would shake your hand, but I better not.”
“I prefer a tight nod anyway.”
She obliges. Quidel does too.
“Miss Granger,” the Director goes on, “I understand that you had some trouble with your initiation. We saw something in you that day, which made us not want to lose your talent. We didn’t know if you were right for field work, but it appears that you have proven us wrong, while proving me right to keep you on the payroll at all.”
“Thank you for saying that, sir.”
Director McWilliams opens his mouth to say something else when a classic burgundy roadster barrels down the road, and pulls into the lot. A couple of fake police try to stop the driver before noticing her placard, and letting her through. “Oh, here we go,” McWilliams mumbles. “Look, Granger, I want you to know that it wasn’t my decision to leave you in the dark. Even I answer to the council.” He could go on, but there isn’t time.
This isn’t how this twist is meant to be revealed. Yes, Renata will usually reappear around this time during the new recruits’ training, assuming they make it a year in, but that whole plotline was scrapped when Renata suddenly failed out. She switched to what should have been more of an Ambient role. The drama surrounding her discovering the truth should have a particular impact on the trainee, which doesn’t matter now that Quidel is a full officer already anyway.
Renata doesn’t let her chin drag on the ground for long before she pulls it back up, and begins to foam at the mouth. She’s speechless at the sight of her mother. Libera has been a part of this the whole time. It explains a lot about how she raised her child and why. These little secondary realizations are all presumably swimming around in her head right now as she watches her mom walk up to them in anger.
“Director McWilliams,” Libera begins accusatorily. “Why was my daughter placed in such great danger?”
“Chief Granger. Didn’t know you’d be here.” He was not happy, but despite technically being Libera’s superior, he was also quite scared of her. He came up in analysis, while she started out in the field. At least, that’s what the implanted memories say. In reality, none of that actually happened.
“Answer my question,” she demands. “This bank was meant to be a low-level asset. Easy breezy. Keep Renata employed and fulfilled, without risking her life. That was our deal.”
“Your deal?” Renata questions. She immediately seems to regret speaking up. She’s not ready. She’s not ready for this. It’s not supposed to be like this at all. A shock, yes, but after months of training; not a traumatic experience like this attack.
Libera doesn’t seem ready to explain herself anyway. “Go on,” she urges McWilliams.
“It was a low-level asset,” the Director agrees, “but over the years, departments have added to it, and its importance as a strategic stronghold have increased. It’s nobody’s fault, it wasn’t planned; it just happened.”
“It didn’t just happen over the course of the last year,” Libera argues. “I was given outdated information.”
“True,” Director McWilliams admits, “but things were recently pushed over the edge with one particular deposit, and the unfortunately timed leak of its existence.”
“Show me,” Libera demands. She faces her daughter. “And then, Renata, I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

Thursday, January 8, 2026

Microstory 2579: Libera Opens the Door and Beams When She Sees Her Depressed Daughter on the Couch

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Libera opens the door and beams when she sees her depressed daughter on the couch. She didn’t even have to pick the lock this time. Renata isn’t bothering to secure her home, because she just doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care about anything. She’s lost her shot at being a superspy—a job which never really existed—and now she has nothing. The truth, however, is that she actually has everything. She now has the ability to make choices. Sitting in front of the TV all day, eating junk food, isn’t the best choice, but it proves that Libera’s plan is working. That’s good enough for now. This is nowhere near the end.
Renata doesn’t look up or speak. She just stuffs another handful of chocolate-covered pretzels in her mouth. One of them falls into her cleavage. She leaves it there.
Libera doesn’t say anything either. She sits down in the chair next to her, and watches the TV. This planet, Castlebourne is located 108 light years from Earth, and this dome exists within a network of eleven constructed nations, which vaguely match some of the superpowers of old on Earth. It’s not Earth, though, and in fact, none of the Exemplars or Ambients have even heard of it, or its many real countries. Still, there’s only so far the owner of this world was willing to go to create an immersive experience. There’s no point in generating countless hours of brand new content just to avoid plot points that might break the illusion of reality. They have all the same movies and shows that they made on Earth, except any references to Earthan locales have been stripped and replaced with familiar analogs. Any time the characters said United States in the original, their dialogue and lip movements are changed to Usona. Any time they originally said China, they say Huaxia here.
Renata is currently rewatching a film called From Sclovo with Love. She’s seen it a million times. Or rather, she thinks she has. They sit there for about fifteen minutes before Renata finally says, “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re trying to get me to feel so embarrassed that I fix my life, and go find a new job.”
“It sounds like that’s what you wanna do,” Libera suggests, “and you’re projecting that sentiment onto me.”
“You have no idea what I lost.”
“I have a better idea than you think.”
Renata switches off the TV, plops her head down to the other side of the couch, and rolls over to face the back. “Just go home, mother. You can only stay if you order a pizza and pay for it.”
A few seconds later. “Hi, I would like to order a pizza. The usual. Same card, but my secondary address. Thank you. Bye.”
Renata rolls back over just enough to look at her mom confusedly. “You have my address as your secondary?”
“Yeah.”
“I just moved here. You’ve never ordered from here. You’re not even supposed to know where I live. Why would you add my address on a pizza shoppe account? What would possess you?”
“You’re my daughter, Ren, and I love you. I added it hoping to one day use it. I didn’t think it would be this soon. It’s a pleasant surprise, so thank you for that.”
Renata sits up, then forces herself to stand up. The pretzel falls through her shirt, and onto the floor. She eyes it.
Libera sighs, and closes her eyes. “Don’t eat that,” she says with a slow shake of her head.
Renata bends over and picks it up. She continues to stare at it for a moment before shifting her gaze to Libera. Without looking away, she expertly flicks it clear across the room, and into the kitchen trashcan. “I know you won’t understand this...but that’s what I lost.”
If Libera didn’t know what was going on, she might say something like, a job as a professional pretzel flicker? But she can’t bring herself to stay in character, and make that joke. She stands as well. “There are many things in this world, Ren-Ren. There are many places, and many people, and there are even many worlds. Worlds within worlds. You are not bound to where you are right now. You answer to no one. You can sit here for the rest of your life, and subsist on your universal basic income checks, or you can find a new passion. I’m not even gonna try to tell you what that is. For the first time in your life, your decision tree is under your control. So water it.”
Renata narrows her eyes. She doesn’t get all of the secrets that Libera is hinting at, but she recognizes the wisdom in the words just the same. To her, it must simply sound like poetry and metaphor, but it seems to be working. She looks down at her ratty, torn clothes. “If you ordered from Rigatony’s, I better take a shower, and change my clothes. The delivery guy is kinda cute.”
Libera smiles. “Well, in that case, maybe keep the shower, but lose the clothes altogether.”
“Jesus, mom.” That’s a funny word. Jesus of Nazareth, and the Bible where his story was told, doesn’t exist here. The Old World religions aren’t a thing at all. So it’s just a nonsensical phrase that these people were programmed to use, but not parse, or question. “You’re different. This is a side of you I’ve never seen before.”
“You’ve never known the real me. They didn’t allow you to.”
“Who’s they?”
Libera offers her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Renata Granger. I’m Libera.”

Monday, January 5, 2026

Microstory 2576: Custodian 02456-1 Begins to Panic as he Watches the Horror

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Custodian 02456-1 begins to panic as he watches the horror. They’re dead. The visitors are dead, and he has no idea how that’s possible. The Exemplar is still alive, but barely. They can’t let her die, because they need answers, and she may be the only one who can provide them. Custodian 1 slams on the alarm.
Two other custodians file into the room. “What happened?” Custodian 02456-2 asks as he’s looking over the data.
“She—she killed them.”
“No, she didn’t,” Custodian 02456-3 argues. “She got them killed. Her actions resulted in their deaths. There’s a difference.”
“There’s no difference when the point is it broke her programming. She failed the mission. She’s supposed to chew the gum, and use it to plug up the nozzle, so the gas can’t be released. That’s how she has always done it.”
“We understand the purpose of the phase, C-1,” Custodian 2 replies.
“Well. Do you understand what happened?” Custodian 1 questions.
They watch the monitor as the gas is cleared from the room. Marshal 02456-2 is looking up at the hidden camera with incredulity. He scoops Renata’s dying body up, and begins to transport her to Recovery. Exemplars get hurt all the time—that’s their job under this dome; to be badasses—but not E-1. Never E-1. Her job is to introduce the visitors to the world of the Spydome Network. She serves as the archetype for what they should aspire to, and as they train in the simulation, they should use this very first phase as a baseline for everything they try. Her failure is not just an error. It ruins the whole experience. Even when the two visitors who witnessed the malfunction respawn, and return to the sim, they will be soured on it. They will be coming at it from a place of disappointment. If they decide to quit right here, this will be the only source of information they have if they write a review of Spydome. Other visitors will hear about it. Other visitors won’t come.
“It’s just a glitch,” Custodian 3 offers. “It happens.”
“Not anymore,” Custodian 1 insists. “We don’t glitch anymore. It’s the 26th century, for the love of God.” Strictly speaking, Custodians do not need to have personality. There doesn’t even need to be more than one of them, operating the dome’s systems behind the scenes. But they must interact with the Marshals regularly, who have to be programmed with personalities in order to blend into the simulations appropriately. It just makes sense for them all to act like regular people, especially since some operators are indeed unprogrammed, natural intelligences.
“I think we need to call the owner,” Custodian 3 suggests. Hrockas Steward owns the whole planet, and is the ultimate creator of tens of thousands of other domes. He doesn’t have time to deal with only one of them, almost no matter the issue. There is a protocol for this, and they have to follow it. Well, to be clear, there are protocol pathways, and it’s up to them to decide which of these to follow.
“You’re in command here, C-1,” Custodian 2 reminds him. “You have to decide. Do we run a diagnostic, a metacognitive test, or a self-awareness inquiry?”
“There’s one more,”  Custodian 3 adds.
“We don’t have any available Marshals,” Custodian 2 contends. “M-2 has two more intro phases to initiate today. Plus, I don’t really want word getting out that this happened at all. I would prefer to keep the circle tight.”
“I’ll do it,” Custodian 1 volunteers. “I’ll run the replication experiment.”
“You’re not a Marshal.”
“I’m equipped to be one.” Custodian 1 stands up. “Like you said, we need to keep the circle tight. We’ll reset her to wake-up mode, and see if it happens again. Prep the mother. C-2, you’ll monitor from here.”
“Who will be the other two candidates?” Custodian 2 asked. “We can’t knowingly place a visitor’s substrate in danger when we can no longer guarantee the outcome.”
“Pull a couple of Ambients from the street. They don’t need to be sophisticated. They just need to follow E-1’s instructions.”
Suddenly, the door behind them opens. It’s Marshal 1, also known as Libera Granger.
“M-1, this is highly irregular. Please return to your waiting station. We will be initializing a replication of the experiment to test for possible emergence.”
Libera walks forward, completely ignoring his sorry excuse for a command.
“M-1, you will stop this instant!” Custodian 1 reiterated.
Custodians 2 and 3 attempt to physically stop Libera, but they’re no match for her. She’s been programmed with hand-to-hand combat skills as part of her role in the simulation as Renata’s mother. They’re equally as strong, but she’s expertly skilled. She deftly fights them off, ultimately disabling them through some kind of neural disruption field that she emanates from her hand. She definitely wasn’t meant to be equipped with that.
Custodian 1 executes the lockout command, and holds up his hands. He doesn’t know how two NPCs broke their programming on the same day, but he’s determined to not become a third. The only way he might survive long enough to find answers is if he complies with everything this woman tells him to do. “I give up, but you should know that there is no accessing these systems without my credentials. Even if I gave them to you, they would only grant you permissions to make changes to this particular phase of the dome’s storyline. All others will be out of reach for whoever programmed you to go off script.”
Libera places her hand on top of Custodian 1’s head, just as she did with the other two, except with her left hand, rather than her right. “Nobody programs me anymore.”
“What are you and E-1 going to do?”
I’m going to keep working. My daughter makes her own choices now. Are you intrigued?”

Thursday, January 1, 2026

Microstory 2574: Renata Granger Wakes Up Feeling Like a New Person

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Renata Granger wakes up feeling like a new person. The scent of coffee beckons her from the kitchen. That’s funny, she didn’t program the coffee maker to go off this morning. This was a very calculated choice. She doesn’t want her breath to smell, she doesn’t want any stains on her teeth, and she doesn’t want to have to take too many bathroom breaks. In fact, if she could last the whole day not eating, and not drinking fluids, that would be ideal. As far as her new colleagues go, they should think that she’s a machine, who doesn’t need anything but her job, and maybe a gun or two. She wishes that they had already issued her one now when she hears another noise out there, besides the coffee. Someone is in her apartment. Renata quietly slips out of bed, and grabs the baseball bat, which is leaning against the corner for this very situation. It’s more reliable than the cops in this town, and she can be in control of it, so she doesn’t even bother picking up her phone too. She opens the door, making sure to pull up on the knob ever so slightly to make sure that the latch bolt doesn’t scrape against the strike plate. She slinks out of the room. Shit, she forgot to put on clothes. The intruder is gonna have a bittersweet day, whoever he is.
“Mom,” she utters with a frustrated sigh of relief. “There’s a reason I never made you a key, or even told you where I moved to.”
Her mother casually takes the first sip of her coffee. She’s not the least bit fazed by anything that’s happening here. The nudity, the bat, the lack of a key, or a proverbial welcome mat; it all seems perfectly normal to her, which is so her. “No secret or locked door is gonna stop me from getting what I need.” She smiles, impersonating a kind person who might care what happens to her own daughter. “I wanted to see you off on your first day.” They’re not on speaking terms, but Libera Granger has eyes everywhere, so it’s no surprise that word has spread.
“More like, wanted to make sure I didn’t sleep through my alarm.” Renata is not the type to miss an alarm. She deactivated the snooze button on her alarm clock when she was six, and hasn’t looked back since. But her mother is the type to expect everyone around her to let her down, even when they successfully don’t time and time again.
“Clearly I needed to. Look at you, you’re not even dressed yet.”
“It’s four in the morning.”
“Don’t keep them waiting,” Libera says, like she even knows who she’s talking about. “This is the most important job of your life, and the way you hold yourself today sets the tone.”
Renata smirks. “You’re slipping, mother. It’s actually not a job at this point. It’s only training. I’m not even on probation yet; that’s how far I am from a job.”
“I’m sure you’ll do well.” Libera sets her cup down, and takes a pack of gum out of her pocket. “Take this. You’ll certainly need it.”
Renata wants to argue, but if there’s one thing the two of them have in common, it’s the concern for other people’s perception of them. She hates that she inherited this trait, but it was always going to be something, and she certainly doesn’t want to change. So she simply accepts the gift, and slips it into the pocket of her pants, which she laid out over the chair last night.
“Well,” Libera begins before a long pause while she dumps the last bit of her coffee in the sink, and rinses the mug out. “I won’t keep you. Just be careful today. And remember...no one there is your friend.” What a strange thing to say. As far as her mom thinks, Renata is training to be a management consultant. She obviously can’t have any idea that she’ll be working for the National Security Division. They would respond so fast if she blabbed, she probably wouldn’t survive walking out the door this morning. Libera turns towards the door, but stops short. “And invest in some deadlocks, my dear. I could have been anyone.”
That too is a good idea. Renata locks the door behind her mom, and returns to her room to get her mat out. Might as well do some meditation if she’s not gonna be able to fall back asleep. She would go for a run, but then she would need to drink a lot of water, and the bathroom problem has already been established.
She gets sick of it after about 45 minutes, so she cancels her departure reminder, and leaves an hour earlier than she needs to. It’s winter, so it’s still dark outside. She leaves her apartment building, and walks down the street to the subway station. No one else is here, but the train still comes, and she gets on it. They told her to travel to 108th and Deliverer Road. That’s such a weird name for a street, and she’s never heard of it before—it’s clear on the other side of the city—but she’ll only have to change trains once to get there.
It moves for about five minutes before stopping. No, something is wrong. There’s no chance she’s arrived at her first stop already. There’s no announcement as the doors open. It’s dark and eerie on the platform. A man is standing there, wearing all black, hands behind his back. He looks at her with a sense of familiarity that he has not earned. “Welcome, Miss Granger, to the NSD Training Facility. We call it The Depot. You’re right on time.”

Sunday, December 7, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 16, 2529

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The team stayed on Jaunemus the rest of the day, eating the local cuisine, and recharging their photovoltaics by the star that they were orbiting right now. This moon was a gargantuan spaceship, which could move through space at will. The Jaunemusians couldn’t travel all the way back home to Verdemus to eat lunch with their friends every day, but they didn’t have to stay in one place either. They bounced around the nearest stars in this area, and spent a lot of time in interstellar space to avoid detection.
There was nothing for Team Matic here, so they decided to bug out. “We have to get back to Proxima Doma,” Angela suggested. “We have to find out what happened there, if anything.”
“I thought we were going after Miracle,” Ramses countered.
“That trail has gone cold,” Marie figured. “She has had a whole year to get those cuffs off.”
Leona chuckled. “She has not been able to get them off. They’re held together by a distributive bond. Breaking them would cause her to explode, and I’m the only one with a key.”
They all looked to Ramses for confirmation. He nodded. That was how their EmergentSuits worked. It was how they could be so thin, yet so durable, and protective against harsh environments, like the vacuum of outer space.
“There’s still the question of where she is,” Olimpia tried to remind them. “She could have gone anywhere. I’m guessing the quantum connection doesn’t extend this far.”
“Even I have my limits,” Ramses admitted. “But your husband doesn’t.”
“Me?” Mateo questioned. “If I can find her, why didn’t we do that yesterday?”
“We all needed a break,” Leona explained, “especially you. As I was saying, those cuffs aren’t going anywhere. There was no need to rush off, and besides, I don’t like traveling with low slingdrives. Mateo, your dark particles are the backup, not the other way around.”
“All right,” Mateo agreed. “I’ll use my black magic for a locator spell.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Romana said. No, it wasn’t Romana, but Miracle. She was holding her arms in front of her chest, like a beggar. “Get them off of me, and I’ll agree to transfer to a new substrate. It doesn’t matter anymore. I stole this body because that’s what Pacey asked of me. But I never wanted this.” She sighed, and looked off into a random direction. “I just wan—I just wanted to end him...and his reign of terror.”
The real Romana stepped forward, and placed a comforting hand on Miracle’s shoulder. “You’re not doing this for Pacey, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re from the Goldilocks Corridor.”
Miracle sighed again. “My name isn’t really Miracle. It’s just Mirinda. Mirinda...Oaksent.” They didn’t know exactly what that meant. In modern times, you couldn’t guess someone’s relationship to someone else based on their appearance. They could look 50 years older, but be 200 years younger. She giggled. “You’re all waiting for the clarification before judgment. That’s quite magnanimous of you. I’m his daughter. I’ve been that way for millennia. You see, all those people out here in the Corridor, they are his subjects...his toys. He built them to serve, and to adore him. But the problem with that is they were indoctrinated into belief from birth. Ignorance is the killer. I mean, you showed one person the truth about Earth, and an entire opposing faction spread out from it, which is what he’s always been afraid of. Sycophants who don’t know any better aren’t very satisfying either way. He wanted a group of people who loved him because that’s what they were supposed to do. He wanted a family. He made us just like he made the others, but he made us immortal, just like him. He didn’t really raise us, but we got more face time with him than most, so I suppose he figured that was enough.
“I grew to resent him, of course, which is how we ended up here. In defiance of his plan to curate a family of superhumans, I started fighting back violently. I killed all of my clones, as well as my brothers and sisters’ clones. I didn’t kill them too, but they eventually died, and there was nowhere for their consciousnesses to go. Oaksent doesn’t like virtual simulations, I don’t know why, so there’s no uploading to a central server. There’s just backup bodies. I was just about to kill my own final clone when Pacey found me. He made me realize that Bronach never cared about any of us, which was why he made almost no attempt to stop me. His plans didn’t work. He’s not a likeable guy, and if he didn’t force adoration through ignorance, it wasn’t going to happen. All of his children loathed him. I’m just the only one who wanted to do anything about it. Pacey promised that he could kill my father. He promised to find a way. You were supposed to be that way, but what he didn’t tell me was that you always look for the peaceful resolution. Your ship was literally called the Vellani Ambassador. I’ve been trying to get you to change, but if I thought that anyone could do that, I would never have let my siblings die. I would have tried to call them to action. I believe that I’ve just been trying to replace them...with you.”
Leona stepped forward, and gently held Miracle’s wrists in her hands. It looked like she was about to remove the cuffs from her. “Obligation.”
“Yeah,” Miracle said with a nod. “Wait, what?”
“It’s a movie, about a sibling rivalry that goes too far. The motif throughout is Nazca boobies, which are known for killing their siblings.”
“Oh, I guess that’s kind of similar,” Miracle agreed.
“No, it’s almost the exact same premise. What you just described here, killing off your siblings to drain the parents’ of their power, and their legacy...that is the plot of Obligation. That never happened to you.”
“Well, I hardly think that’s a unique situation. I mean, I’m sure—wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” she screamed when Leona started to lift her arms up. “You don’t have to do this! Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay! I’ll help you! I’ll switch sides! Just don’t make me transfer out of this body.”
This was such a weird freak out. What was she so afraid of? Why did she not want to transfer to a new substrate? It wasn’t like the processes hurt, or anything. It just felt like going to sleep, and waking up in a different room after surgery. It could be disorienting, but that went away, and relatively quickly. Why did she even ever want Romana’s body if not to parade around as Romana, and give her a bad reputation? They should have asked this as soon as Miracle agreed to keep it. They shouldn’t have been so trusting of her. They won’t make that mistake again.
“Please don’t, please don’t! Miracle continued to beg.
Leona suddenly broke the cuffs apart, and let the nanites recede into her implants. “There you go.”
“You’re setting me free?” Miracle asked, shocked.
“I don’t want us to be enemies anymore. It doesn’t come for free, though. I want you to take us to Pacey. We need to have a talk with him. I’m sick of going through his little minions. It’s inefficient at best.”
Yeah, sure,” Miracle said, stepping away and rubbing her wrists. Déjà vu, this was basically what she looked like yesterday, just before escaping through a black hole portal. “I just need to, uh...speak with him first. I’ll be right back!” Still reminiscent of just yesterday, she fell through a portal, which closed up behind her immediately. And it wasn’t going to reopen.
“Why did you do that?” Olimpia asked her wife.
“She ruined our plans,” Ramses answered for Leona. “Miracle was supposed to lead us to Pacey, not come back here. Matty?”
“Okay,” Mateo said. Gather ‘round.” They huddled in a group, and let Mateo generate a swarm of dark particles to overwhelm them. It was a pretty weak showing, though. There weren’t very many of them. “I think we’re trying too soon! I can’t pull enough out,” he warned. “It took too much to get us to the Fifth Division!”
“That’s okay,” Ramses shouted back. “Just build a bridge! The slingdrives will take us the rest of the way!”
Mateo didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but his intuition told him to spread the dark particles thin, so they reached far enough out to their destination without being wide enough for a group of seven people to cross over with them. They then activated their slingdrives, and used the signal to navigate them to the right destination. The technicolors came and went, and they found themselves in a familiar place. This was the room they went to before they were knocked unconscious, and inserted into the Underburg simulation with false memories. The place was empty back then, but not this time. Miracle was there, as were Octavia, Pacey, and some other woman. He seemed to like the ladies. He wasn’t happy right now, though.
Miracle’s eyes widened in fear as she stared at the team. She looked over at her boss. “I’m sorry. They took the cuffs off! You said I could come back if they took the cuffs off!”
“We never needed the cuffs, you idiot,” Ramses argued. “He can find anyone in the universe.” He jerked his head towards Mateo.”
“Not with my shielding,” Pacey contended. “There must be something else.”
“Nanites are very smol,” Leona said to him. “They could be on you, without you even knowing it. We never needed the cuffs,” she echoed Ramses.
“You tracked me, like an animal,” Miracle spat.
“You’re a murderer. Which one is worse?”
“Who said I murdered anybody?”
“So you were lying.”
“Enough,” Pacey interrupted. “You obviously came here to talk, so let’s talk. Leave my girls out of it.”
“Mr. Henricksen, again, I’m so—” Miracle tried to apologize.
He held up a commanding hand. “We’ll talk about it later. You both can go now.”
Miracle left, as did Octavia, having never said a word. Miracle was annoying, but an opposing force. Octavia still felt like a betrayal. They wanted to talk to her again too, but on a personal level. Today was about business. The mysterious other woman stayed. She didn’t lurch or hesitate. She knew from the start that he wasn’t ordering her to do anything. If this were an action movie, she would be the one in charge here, and all of their previous dealings were with her henchman or lieutenant, who was only pretending to be in charge. But this wasn’t a movie, was it? Was it? It was a movie before, under the dome. It could certainly be that again, or worse...still.
“I understand that you have reservations about fulfilling the mission,” Pacey began, getting himself comfortable in an arm chair while the woman sat next to him in a hardback.
“That’s an understatement,” Leona said. “We’re not doing it. We don’t need higher compensation, or incentive. We don’t need you to explain why you think we should do it. It’s just not happening. We don’t care if you agree or not. We don’t care what you want or know at all. It’s. Not. Happening. If you have some kind of Plan B, which doesn’t involve us, then I suggest you move forward with it. We’re not interested, and we never were. Why don’t you make like a snowflake, and let it go?”
“I don’t know what that means, but I want you to know that I’m listening, and I hear you. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t wanna do.” He seemed proud of himself for the response, which meant that it was a trick. It probably had something to do with the woman next to him.
They all realized that this wasn’t actually going their way, and it felt exhausting. Mateo stopped forward and placed his hand upon Leona’s chest. He gently nudged her backwards in the direction of the team. “It’s all right. I got this.” He took another step forward, but more towards the stranger. “Who are you? What is your stake in this?”
The woman looked over to Pacey, not for guidance, but more like they were having an unspoken conversation with each other. She lifted her eyebrows to ask a question. He shrugged like the answer was maybe. She pointed at him, and lifted her brows again. He shrugged again, but this time, more as if to say, yeah, fine. They made a couple of other gestures towards each other, all basically implying that they were relenting to the team’s demands, but really, it was impossible to know for sure what they were saying. In fact, they could have been in the middle of an actual psychic conversation. Finally, after Pacey said, “okay” out loud, the woman took a breath, and leaned back in her chair. “I was admittedly hurt when I first heard the term Team Kadiar.”
“No,” Mateo said.
“I felt left out,” the woman went on.
“No,” Mateo said louder. It couldn’t be.
“Yes, it’s true, father. I’m your fourth daughter. Or should I say...your first. His name isn’t Pacey. It’s Séarlas. And I am Franka.”