Microstory 2483: Campodome

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Camping has never gone out of style, but it’s had its ups and downs. Once our ancestors invented computers, they realized how disruptive it was to be away from their devices. People in the 19th century were basically, like, “camping is just living without being in a building, and peeing in the woods”. Over time, the gap between regular urban living and camping in a tent widened. Then we started developing better portable energy storage, and more prolific satellite connectivity, and it started going back the other way in many respects. You could go out to the middle of the woods, and enjoy nature, while still maintaining a connection to the outside world, to just about whatever degree you wanted. There were snobs, of course, who said that you really shouldn’t have anything, and to a certain extent, I agree. Glamping is what they called it when you basically lived in a tiny home with no sacrifice of amenities. Really, what’s the point? The leaders on Castlebourne couldn’t answer that either, so it doesn’t exist here. There are all kinds of other camping formats, though. Forest, prairie, desert, even wetlands, and snow camping. What people don’t realize is that each dome is large enough to be fully capable of supporting a diverse multi-biome ecology. You just have to tailor the terrain to fit what you need, and maybe add a bit of scientific intervention. Colder regions are near the top of a mountain range, as you might expect it on Earth. It doesn’t have seasons, since the kind of engineering that would require is just a little beyond what’s practical. It’s not impossible, but it’s more logical to divide climates up by areas. You choose where you wanna camp, and how you wanna do it. Some people go out there and totally rough it. They have no supplies, no food, maybe not even clothes. There’s a subculture of people who go out there totally naked and alone, and survive on their skills.

As I said, there are no seasons, though these survivalists can replicate them by moving to different spots. I will say that that’s not quite right, because if you really wanted to start your journey in Spring, and see how you fared when the weather changed, you would build your shelter as well as you possibly can, and wait for it to become necessary. That’s not a feasible option when your campsite has to shift in order to account for that journey. So maybe they can improve upon that. I know it’s not easy, and maybe they shouldn’t try. After all, that’s why the flying spaghetti monster made Earth, because it already has everything you need, and the cycles kind of take care of themselves. I’ve not mentioned it yet, but there are hiking and backpacking routes, if you like to stay on the move. Some of them are pretty long, but nothing that compares to the grueling trek of the Pacific Crest or Appalachian Trails. There’s just not enough space. There might be a dome out there that winds you around enough times to cover that distance, but it’s not here. This is mostly about the camping and again, some things probably should be left to the homeworld. We didn’t spend decades rewilding the surface exclusively to leave it to nature. We still allow ourselves access to that nature, and are encouraged to camp when we feel like it. So, is this place better at what it does? No, I shouldn’t think so. You’re still in a snowglobe. You will always know it’s artificial. And it’s nothing we don’t have elsewhere, unlike say, the waterpark in Flumendome, or the realm in Mythodome, but it’s still pretty nice. I certainly wouldn’t cast your consciousness here with the express intention of coming to this dome, but it’s a great option if you’re already here, and need to take a break from civilization.

Microstory 2445: Dune Buggy Paradise

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This is the largest habitable desert in the world. Now, you may be asking yourself, how could it be any bigger than any other? Every dome is the same size as all the others, isn’t it? True, but this one makes better use of that space, because it operates in three dimensions. We’re talking about multiple layers here. It’s quite ingenious, really. I don’t mean that you can wander about on the bottom layer, and then take an elevator to a higher ones. You have to walk or drive up ramps to get to other levels, and you don’t just multiply the area of one by the number of layers to get the total area. The upper layers are nowhere near as big. They’re like giant catwalks, criss-crossing each other in random configurations, looping around, and dipping down. It’s all very chaotic, and hard to track. Here’s the most mysterious—and I think, best—part of this whole place, there is a layer near the top of the dome which no one has been able to figure out how to reach. There doesn’t seem to be any path leading to it, but we can clearly see it. At the right angles—and with good enough vision—you can even make out a dune buggy parked on the edge. It’s gotta be some kind of prize, but as I said, no one has managed to reach it thus far. Even if you found some roundabout way, like with an extremely long grappling hook, how would you drive it down? It’s about a kilometer higher than the next highest layer. Maybe it’s a joke, or the creators are taunting us. Or it’s just straight up unfinished, who knows? Another special thing about the way this place is designed is what happens when sand from one layer falls over the edge. Well, it doesn’t. It can slip over, but then fly back up to where it belongs. You don’t have to worry about sand falling on your head all the time like rain thanks to people on the higher layers. It’s not just regular sand that they harvested from the surface of this planet. It’s smartdust. It’s all smartdust. I hear tales of people claiming that it has flown around in other instances, and formed ominous shapes, which they interpret as the dust trying to communicate with them. It could be true, though I’ve not seen it for myself, but even if it were, there’s a scientific explanation for it. Smartdust is fully capable of moving around, and forming larger shapes, like tiny artificial starlings. Overall, this is a pretty nifty place. It could be pretty boring, with its one niche being hardly distinct from other domes. There are other deserts, and at least one other racing dome, but combining them here is more than just the sum of its parts. I think it’s worth the trip. You don’t have to race if you don’t want to. You can just drive around, people are pretty respectful about boundaries.

Microstory 2439: Dome for Pioneers

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Ha! Dome for Pioneers. That’s so on the nose. That’s really what it is. You’re almost starting from scratch here. You don’t go all the way back to the beginning, like Paleodome, but you’re not provided with much. Like other lifestyle domes, you’re expected to stay here for an extended period of time, like years; not days, not even months. You’re here to get an idea of what life was like for people in 19th century New World. Everything you need is here, but you have to process it yourself. There’s wooded areas, arid desert, prairies, some small lakes (maybe ponds?) and rocks. They dress you in very simple clothes that look like they’re handmade, but I’m guessing they weren’t really. They give you a metal bucket, a few basic tools, and one wagon per ten or eleven people I think? I don’t remember what they said. If you have too few people, you don’t even get a wagon. There are some cows of some kind wandering around nearby, so if you do get one of the wagons, you have to put those two things together yourself. Good luck, dude, I actually think they’re real cows. While they’re not aggressive, they don’t want you tying ropes to them, and do you even know how to put a cow before a wagon? Didn’t think so. It’s the year 2500, we don’t have to do stuff like that anymore. That’s what’s so interesting about this place. If you wanted to know how the real pioneers survived with what little they had, and while enduring everything they had to, you had to have done your research ahead of time. There is no education here. I understand what they were going for, but that was probably a mistake. There should be a museum where they give you such education, not so you’re better equipped, but so you have a real appreciation for what you’ll experience in the simulation. What were their goals? What mistakes did they make? What kind of class divide was there, if any? I mean, you could turn your lot into a mountain man survivalist situation, and stay there for just as long, but that’s not what the pioneers were trying to do. They were digging in, founding towns, making a legacy for themselves. If people start using it right, given enough time, it’s possible that Dome for Pioneers might have to change its name to Dome for an Extremely Advanced Civilization. All the tools are there, it will just take time for us to relearn how to use them, just like our ancestors did. I think that it’s a really interesting social experiment. I just think it might not accomplish the right goals if management doesn’t guide the narrative in a proper direction. But don’t listen to me, I’m nobody.

Microstory 2436: Tundradome

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It’s just a big tundra, what do you want from me? It’s even worse than one of the desert domes, because it’s cold. I know, that’s obviously the point, tundras are supposed to be cold. I don’t know what I was expecting, but there’s just nothing here. They don’t even have animals running around, which you would find in a real tundra. I did get the sense that this dome was unfinished, but also not a priority, but there wasn’t anyone around to explain it to me. The vactrain stopped here, I walked through the doors, and I was outside. I went back into the lobby to see if I needed to sign in, or something, but there really wasn’t anyone around. They didn’t even have a help button on the wall. Surely they wouldn’t have let me come here if it was legitimately closed to visitors. There were others who showed up a few minutes after me. We didn’t talk, but they seemed pleased. They stopped a few hundred meters from the entrance, and I guess admired the beauty before them. Then they picked up their gear, and walked away. I assume they went off to camp somewhere, but I don’t know for sure. I doubt they went far, because they were carrying their stuff in their hands, instead of in packs. Listen to me, reviewing the other visitors as if that matters. I should have asked them real quick if maybe I missed something. Like, maybe there’s a different entrance where they went to first, or they messaged someone ahead of time. I could contact customer relations, but I think writing this review is as far as I’m gonna take it. It’s clearly only meant to be a tundra as that’s the name. They’re never going to add activities or adventures, so no matter how much they work on it, I’m never gonna wanna come back. I don’t suggest you do either. If you want to camp, try Foggy Forest. At least they have trees there.

Microstory 2423: Oz

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My assumption is that the guy who made this planet was a huge fan of L. Frank Baum, and his works. If you haven’t read the books, you really should. You can see the movies, particularly the first one, but everything here is drawn from the source material. Oz is only one dome, complete with the Emerald City in the center, and the four countries around it. There’s a so-called Impassable Desert along the perimeter, but there’s not much to it before you just hit the wall. Which is fine. I mean, that qualifies as impassable, doesn’t it? Unless you go through a door. I’m overthinking it. The point is that Oz is only one dome, but the world of the Baum books includes many other regions on the planet, and each of them has their own dome too. They’re all on my list, because my father used to read me the books when I was a kid, multiple times. And when I grew up, I read them myself. On my way here, I read them yet again to refresh my memory. Yeah, I could have installed the data into my cybernetic mind, but there’s nothing like reading the words in realtime, is there? The bottom line is that this place is perfect for me. It’s as accurate as it can be given the lack of specifications from the books (which no one could expect from any writer). It exemplifies the spirit of the original story, I should say. They had to make their own decisions, and take some liberties, but they totally nailed it. This. Is. The Land of Oz. Are there some things that I would change if I could? Sure. Do I wish that they would ask me to help them make such changes? Yeah, I do. Could I offer my services? Yeah, I guess I could. I might just do that. They have people work here, right? It’s not all automated. I might wait just a little bit, though. I should take notes, and go through the entire thing. I should also wait until I’ve had time to do the same in the other Baum domes. I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do, but you really should check it out. It is great and good.

Microstory 2421: The Wasteland

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This place sucks. I get what they were going for here, but it’s lacking that authenticity that a real post-apocalyptic wasteland would have. Or maybe there’s just no way of making this exciting and interesting. The name says it’s all. It’s just miles and miles of desert, it’s so boring. There are a few burnt out cars strewn about, and some random collapsed structure, but not much else. You’re supposed to take your cues from science fiction from days past, and make your own adventure, but I don’t think it really works all that well. I mean, since it’s not real, there’s no desperation. You can always find an exit, and just leave. I really don’t see this one sticking around. Yeah, it’s all right to watch a two-hour movie about this, but I don’t know that anyone wants to spend any substantial amount of time in this environment. Thinking on it, though, it has to exist. This guy’s got 83,000 domes, and had to come up with almost as many ideas. I don’t think he made it, he doesn’t have quite as much—which is fine, I’m not criticizing; I’m just saying that wasteland is certainly a theme that exists. There are tons of examples in media. It would be kind of weird, actually, if they didn’t use it. There seems to only be one like this, which is probably a good thing. Many domes are based on particular franchises, but in the end, all wastelands are about the same, so you probably shouldn’t make more than one. I doubt most people would be interested in even seeing it once. I can’t recommend coming here at all. Maybe they’ll add more intrigue later, with robots that have their own programmed motivations, but if they’re expecting us to do all of the heavy lifting, I just don’t see enough people getting into it. There’s another desert dome where your only goal is surviving long enough to make it clear across to the other side. Try that one instead. At least the incentive is clear. My recommendation to the builders is that they should put the ruins of more buildings here. If the world were to end in such a scenario, it’s not like everything would be flattened and buried, ya know? There would still be stuff here to show that a human civilization once thrived. Just a thought, you don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to.

The Sixth Key: Kick Rocks (Part II)

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Clavia helps Echo learn how to use his parents’ guns. They’re energy weapons, which means they’ll be able to fire indefinitely as long as he doesn’t fire too much, and they have a source of charge, like the sun. Something called radio waves would charge it too, but there aren’t any of those around here. He doesn’t become an expert marksman in only a few short hours, but at least he has the basics down. Point and shoot, that much was immediately apparent, but the safety and handling was a little less intuitive.

According to the sensors on board the shuttle, as fed into Echo’s new suit, a ship appeared out of nowhere, and began to orbit the planet. It scanned the surface in some way, but hasn’t done anything else since. Clavia taught him how to set up an alarm to wake him when anything changes, so he can go to bed, and get some rest. The next morning, he checks the sensors to find that the alarm hasn’t failed. The orbiting ship up there still isn’t doing anything. They’ve not fired any weapons at the tree, or come down in a shuttle of their own, or anything. What are they waiting for?

“My mind is clouded,” Clavia explains. “I cannot see detail. I can sense that people are walking around inside the vessel, but I can’t tell what they’re doing. Unfortunately, I need to focus my strength on other pursuits.”

“I understand.” He doesn’t, but she should do whatever she needs to. “Do you think they know that we’re here?”

“It depends on how sophisticated their sensors are, and on the nature of the planet we’re on. This appears to be a lush garden centered on a desert. If the rest of the world is just as barren, this will stick out like a sore thumb. But it may be one of many oases, in which case they would need to pick up on you as an individual. I also don’t know whether your suit and shuttle are sufficiently shielded, or what.”

Echo nods, and decides to go back to practicing. The great thing about guns like these is that he can shoot blanks as much as he wants while barely dipping into the power reserves. Indeed, while the sun is shining, solar power will keep it running even if he never stops squeezing the trigger for the duration of daylight hours. He’s not doing any damage, as he’s just sending beams of light towards the rocks and the flowers, but it gives him a good idea of what it will be like if he ever has to do it for real.

Either as a coincidence, or because the visitors detected his weapons fire, they finally send a landing party in a shuttle. They don’t land too close to the garden, which is respectful of them, or maybe it’s also a coincidence. Echo doesn’t walk over to greet them halfway. He just stands under the Clavia tree, holding one of the guns at what Clavia called high ready. The second one is leaning against the trunk. He has extra cartridges attached to his hips too, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be needing them. One of these things would be able to take out the entire crew of the shuttle. It appears to only be four people, though obviously there are more still up on the ship. Clavia doesn’t know what kind of weaponry they have, up there, or down here. The four who are walking towards them now don’t appear to be armed at all.

“Can they hear you, or is your voice in my head?” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

“They can hear me if I want them too, and not if I don’t.”

“Let me do the talking. They may not know that you can talk, and I would like to keep that as an advantage until we have no choice.”

“Agreed,” Clavia says.

“Hello, kind soldier,” the leader guy says once they’re within earshot of each other. He’s keeping a safe distance, showing a healthy fear of Echo’s gun. The other three strangers are scattered next to and behind him. “My name is Klavis Zakan Scrivenor. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to today?”

“Klavis?” Echo echoes.

“No relation,” Clavia replies simply.

“It’s my rank?” Zakan answers like it’s a question. “I command a single flotilla of ships...four to be exact.”

“What is your business here?” Echo asks.

Zakan is confused. “Um, do you have a name too?”

“Oh.” Echo feels like he’s just lost the upperhand, especially since he just said oh. He should have just been steadfast, and refused to answer. But now it’s too late, he has to just go ahead and respond appropriately. “Echo Cloudbearer.”

“Do you own this world, Echo Cloudbearer?”

“I do.” I mean, he might as well. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else to claim the title, and if making such a claim grants him the legal powers to protect this tree, then he’s comfortable making it.

“What is it called?”

This is where it gets tricky. His parents could never agree on a name for it. They kept coming up with new ideas before Echo was even born, but eventually narrowed it down to Supercloud or Echo. About half the time, they would joke that their son was named after the planet, and the other half, that the planet was named after their son. He never knew which was true, or if Supercloud was the superior choice anyway. “Echo”.

“Hm,” Zakan says. “I like it. We are representatives of the Temporal Energy Management Project of Relative Associated Logistics. Basically, we’re in charge of making sure that there’s enough temporal energy to go around, and that no one is abusing the power that they have, or exploiting the substructure of the universe to their own gain, or to the destruction of reality.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Echo admits.

“Well, we’re relative, because the power is not evenly distributed, which some people believe sounds unfair—though, it isn’t—and it’s associated, because every time someone is allotted power, it has an impact on everyone else. That’s why it needs to be managed. It’s—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no, defining it isn’t going to help me understand it. It sounds like you just really wanted your acronym to spell out TEMPORAL.”

Zakan just clears his throat.

“Why are you here? I keep to myself. I don’t have any power.”

Zakan gestures to Clavia. “That tree behind you would seem to contradict your words.”

Echo decides to play dumb. “This is just a tree. It can’t contradict anything. It can’t even walk.”

Zakan smiles and sighs. He looks around the vast empty flatlands surrounding them. “We detected the energy spike that was prompted by some kind of temporal event right at this location. I don’t know if it teleported here, or if it was here all along, and suddenly absorbed a whole lot of power, but my guess is that you were around to see whatever it was. After all, you’re standing in front of it right now. You were up there when we showed up. You must think it’s meaningful too. If you thought you needed to protect your garden as a whole, you’d be standing right here.” He points to his feet where the grass of the garden gives way to the dirt of the desert.

Okay, maybe he needs to switch tactics. “Does it matter? If it’s here, it’s mine. And since this is all mine, so are you. So you four have two choices. You can fly back up to your little ship, and tell your captain to leave, or you can stay here and do my bidding. The atterberries are about ready to be harvested.”

“What did you say?”

“The atterberries,” Echo repeated. “Those pink things over there. You could pick them, or you could leave. You have no jurisdiction on this world, though. My word is law. My word is the only law.”

“What’s—what’s this stuff here?” He slid the sole of his shoe along a rock.

“That’s amanda moss. It’s not edible. I use it for...other things.” Wiping.

“And that?”

“It’s, uh, vearden hay. I use it as a ground cover. Why all the sudden interest in my garden? I thought you only cared about some tree.”

“Just curious.” Zakan steps forward. “What do you call this creature warming itself on this boulder?”

Echo can’t see from this far away, but he knows what the man’s talking about. “It’s probably a clemens newt.”

“One last thing, this one here?”

“A savi tree.”

Zakan exchanges a look with his people. “Which reality is your family from?”

“Um, this one?”

“No, I mean originally.”

“I have no clue where you’re going with this.”

“I don’t recognize that kind of gun. Do you?” he asks the woman standing at his flank.

She shakes her head quietly.

“My guess is Parallel or Fifth Division,” Zakan goes on cryptically, “but the main sequence had some nice stuff before they were copied here.”

“Can I help you?” Echo interrupts the internal conversation they’re having down there. He’s done playing nice. He wants them gone. He doesn’t want to have to hurt anyone to do it, but he will if they give him no choice.

“I’m afraid we can’t leave until we run our tests. We need to know what sort of impact this tree is having on the rest of the galaxy. It’s for the safety of everyone in the universe.”

Echo tenses up. “Get closer.”

Zakan himself doesn’t move, but his people reach their arms out to magically materialize their own guns. “We don’t need to get very close.”

“That’s enough!” It’s Clavia’s voice, but there’s something a little different about it. It sounds like it’s coming from a specific location, instead of just around him in general. Someone appears from behind the tree. It’s the dead woman who he buried here. She lives. It wasn’t just a magical seed, but it had something to do with who was holding it.

“Who are you?” Zakan asks.

“Who you seek, in humanoid form.”

Zakan holds his hand up by his shoulder. The other three lower their guns in response. Two of them make them disappear again, but his lieutenant keeps hers. “You are the tree.”

“We are,” she replies. “You may call us Clavia.”

“We’ll have to confirm that,” Zakan insists.

“Do that, and only that,” Clavia replies. “Do more, and you’ll regret it.”

Now Zakan lifts his other hand, and shakes it twice towards the hill. The now unarmed pair of visitors cross the boundary of the garden, and walk up to Clavia. She holds her own hand towards to stop Echo from reacting further when he tenses up again. The strangers begin to run their tests. They hover little devices over Clavia’s human body, and over the tree. They look at the little screens to interpret the readings, whatever they may be. Echo wouldn’t know the first thing about what they’re looking for, but Clavia seems calm, so he’s just gonna follow her lead.

One of the testers nods over at Zakan. “It’s her. She’s the tree.”

“Okay. Pack it up, kids. We’re leaving.”

“Wait,” Echo says. “Not that I’m complaining, but what just happened? What did you do? What did you discover? Why is it making you leave?”

“The source of the temporal energy is sentient,” Zakan begins to explain. “It’s natural and unregulated. As you said, we have no jurisdiction. It would be like me telling you that you’re not allowed to use that moss to wipe your ass. That’s someone else’s department.”

“Well...” Echo paused. “Thank you and goodbye.”

“You’ll be filing a report, though, won’t you?” Clavia guesses as most of the team is walking back towards their shuttle.

“I have no choice,” Zakan says apologetically.

“So the right department might show up too,” Echo calculates.

“Undoubtedly,” Zakan confirms. “She’s an interesting find.”

The shuttle takes off. About fifteen minutes later, the ship breaks orbit, and flies away into the black. Echo’s shuttle’s sensors stop picking any signals, and the world falls silent once more.

“You’re a person,” he points out.

“It’s complicated.”

Echo smiles. “I don’t have anything else going on. Tell me your story.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 13, 2495

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Ramses was doing a lot of things at the same time today. He deployed a sophisticated drone to fly around Dome 216, and try to figure out what was going on. There was inexplicable life support in there. Obviously simply sealing a dome up didn’t automatically make it habitable. Hrockas had a complex network of tubes piping in oxygen, nitrogen, and other gases. An AI managed all of this, making sure that compositions remained at optimal levels. Some of the oxygen came from the natural thin atmosphere native to Castlebourne while the rest was from various electrolytic processing plants placed strategically between the inhabited domes. Carbon scrubbers then recycled this air as needed. Ideally, they would just be growing plantlife to do this all for them free of charge, but that kind of infrastructure was a very long-term plan.

Dome 216 had no such gas pipelines. They were installed years ago, but ultimately removed and repurposed elsewhere. Nothing should be alive in here, yet as the drone surveyed the land in greater detail than its predecessor, it found not only breathable air, but also desert plants. Either someone was sneaking in, and making changes to this environment, or there was something fishy going on. In addition to preparing the team for their departure with their new tandem slingdrive array, Ramses was examining Romana to see how she was involved. There was a...dark particle monster lurking in the mysterious dome, and it theoretically came from her. But how?

“How indeed?”

 Ramses covered up his patient. She had to be undressed for him to scan her entire integumentary system properly. They still didn’t really know how her dark particles were released, or exactly where they lived when they weren’t swarming around. “Hrockas, this is highly inappropriate, you can’t just burst in whenever you want.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, this is my planet. All of this belongs to me.”

Ramses didn’t respond to this. Yes, Hrockas technically owned Castlebourne, but it was its namesake, Vendelin Blackbourne who initiated construction of the domes before he died and joined Team Keshida. A great deal of the work since then was completed by others, particularly Ramses himself, and Baudin Murdoch. Hrockas’ contribution was not nothing, but it wasn’t singular either.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“How did you get into this sub-lab? You shouldn’t even know about it.”

“I have particles of my own,” Hrockas replied. “Keeping watch...taking notes.”

Ramses nodded. “Smartdust. I should have had my countersurveillance protocols account for that. I guess I just trusted you too much. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Hrockas chuckled. “Intentional obsolescence has gotten me out of a lot of jams. Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to give me their secrets.”

Ramses looked around. “I was getting sick of this place anyway. It’s time to move on. What did you come in for anyway?”

“I was just checking on your progress. She tell you anything?”

“She can speak for herself,” Romana argued. “And no. I don’t know anything.”

“I meant, his little tests. Have they given you any insights?”

“Thank you. You can go now,” Ramses said to him pointedly. They would tell Hrockas what he deserved to know, when they were ready for him to know it.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“You can take your smartdust with you,” Ramses added.

“Okay.” Hrockas patted himself on the hip, and spoke in a high-pitched tone, “come on! Let’s go, little motes. Come on! Come on!” He was smirking as he walked through the holographic door backwards.

“Hey, thistle,” Ramses said. “Purge the dust for me.”

“Certainly, sir.” The biohazard decontamination protocols rained hell over the little guys, destroying all forms of minuscule surveillance, as well as all other visual security measures.

“Did my body tell you anything?” Romana asked once the purge was over.

He rolled a cart around so she could see what was on the monitor. “You have an aura.” The screen was showing Romana in silhouette, as well as a hazy second shadow surrounding her. To the untrained eye, it would look like nothing more than a regular second shadow, created by an additional source of light. But when Romana moved around, this aura followed her nonuniformly. It was sometimes lagging behind, and sometimes clearly ahead, predicting her future movements perfectly.

“So it’s always there, just invisible.”

“It would appear so.”

“Could you take—I dunno—a biopsy, or something?”

“Not invisible as in, a trick of the light. They seem to exist in a parallel dimension, just as we always suspected. This is where they multiply.”

“Are they alive?” Romana pressed.

He threw up a hologram containing a list. It was the eight requirements for life. He pointed towards each one like a schoolteacher. “To be alive, an entity must have complex organization, metabolize chemically, maintain homeostasis, grow, reproduce, respond to stimuli, adapt or evolve, and contain coded information.” He swiped at the image. The list remained, but a couple of the items were crossed out, and a couple of them were highlighted, while others were left unchanged. “They don’t appear to be very complex, more like single-celled organisms. If they metabolize, they don’t necessarily do it chemically. Maybe they process...time, or other forms of energy? They do seem to be homeostatic. They hopefully don’t grow. They one hundred percent reproduce by some means. They definitely respond to stimuli. It’s too early to tell if they evolve. And I have no idea how to test for any equivalent to DNA.”

“Do they...get angry at you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you getting the sense that they don’t like when you run your tests on them?”

Ramses lifted his chin in curiosity, and peered at her. “Do you feel an anger around you? Do you think they’re angry?”

“When I get mad, even at someone I love, like my sisters, I feel...a power. I feel stronger. Maybe there’s more of them in those instances. Maybe that’s how they reproduce, by feeding off of the emotion.”

“I don’t know how one would go about feeding on emotion,” Ramses said, shaking his head as he was struggling to find any evidence to contradict his hypothesis, and support hers.

She looked down and to the side, but didn’t say anything.

“Have you talked to anyone about this before? Mateo, or your sisters?”

She didn’t look up. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what, that they would start to fear you?”

She waited to respond, but then she looked up. “Afraid of being encouraged, to embrace it. To use it.” She looked down again, and breathed out. “To exploit it.”

“Shit,” Ramses said, exasperated. “You’re afraid of becoming Buddy. Why weren’t we worried about this before? Of course you would feel some connection to him, however dark.”

“I don’t think he did this to me on purpose. I don’t think he understood what he was getting himself into, how it would affect someone with my biology, and what was it—my qualia?”

“I don’t think so either. Guy’s a dick, but I think he would have said something, or hinted at it.”

Romana looked over at the holographic wall. “What if that thing out there is... I don’t even wanna say it.”

“I think I know where you were going. Do you want me to say it?”

“No, but...someone should.”

“Our child.” Buddy was suddenly here. His swarm of dark particles were just finishing up retreating into their home dimension.

Ramses stepped between Buddy and Romana. “Do you spy on us?”

“Cocktail party effect,” Buddy said cryptically. “I know when people are talking about me. I tend to ignore it, but there was something different about this. I’ve been sensing your dark particles since you left. I thought it was just residual energy, but now I know better.” He started to step closer.

Ramses tensed up. “Whoa there, buckaroo billy.”

Buddy stopped. He was stoic, and maybe even respectful? “What I did to you was wrong; a violation. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but it’s my greatest regret. I recognize that I am seen as the villain; an antagonist. That was never my intention. I started out normal, just a little ambitious. But those ambitions grew, and took over. They became obsessions. I know it’s crazy to force people to go get me a fruit. Intellectually, that’s just dumb. I can’t think about anything else, though. It feels like my purpose in life, and if I ever manage to get it, I’m worried that my next obsession will be bad. What if I start fixating on vaporizing a whole planet, or turning everything into paperclips?”

“Why are you telling us this?” Romana questioned.

“Because it could happen to you, and you don’t deserve that. I didn’t. I was innocent...until I wasn’t. These things are toxic, and while it’s too late for me, I believe that you still have time.” He straightened up, and cleared his throat, giving himself a surge in self-assuredness. “I wanna help. I wanna fix this. It’s my mess, and my responsibility to clean it up.”

“We obviously can’t trust you,” Ramses reasoned. “The first time we encountered you was because you abducted our friends. And then the next time, you abducted her.”

“I know, and as I said, that was wrong. Don’t let her become the next me. Don’t let her do something like that to innocent people.”

“If what you’re saying is true,” Romana began, “then you’re just trading one obsession with another. Let’s say you fix what’s wrong with me, what happens to you then? Do you just go back to the way you were, coercing people into doing your bidding?”

“Like I was saying, I’m a lost cause,” Buddy reiterated.

“Well, what if you become obsessed with self-improvement?” she suggested.

“Well, that’s self-defeating, Romana, it would never work,” Ramses determined.

“No, I want to hear her out. You really think that I can choose my own obsession?”

Romana smiled. “I think that you’re choosing it right now, asking for me to let you help me.”

“I believe that he was asking me,” Ramses said, like an idiot.

She glared at him for a moment before returning her attention to Buddy. “Might as well give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He vaporizes the world with paperclips,” Ramses gibed.

“Thank you, you can go now,” Romana said to Ramses. He was being mean-spirited with Buddy, albeit plausibly justified. She was just joking, though, because she couldn’t do this without him. If anyone was going to figure out how to save her from her own dark particles, it was the one person in the timeline who both was smart enough, and cared for her. Buddy’s knowledge and experience were equally invaluable, and since he was offering it, they had little choice but to accept.

“All right,” Ramses relented. “If you want to help, I will set aside my reservations, and remain professional. But in the end, I still don’t trust you, and I will go to any lengths to protect my people from you.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Buddy acknowledged.

There was a pause in the conversation, which Ramses volunteered to break. “Do you have any ideas off the top of your head, errr...?”

“Yeah, I think it’s time for me to meet my child,” Buddy figured.

“Okay.” Ramses was immediately regretting his decision to be civil. “We don’t know if we should frame it that way. The dark particles that you gave her are hers now, and if she made a particle baby, that doesn’t mean it’s yours. Okay?”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Ramses knew that Buddy was being sarcastic, but that didn’t make his statement untrue. “I’m choosing to believe that you didn’t father a child with a fifteen-year-old girl.”

“She’s not fifteen anymore.”

“She was when you...impregnated her,” he shouted with airquotes. He threw up a little in his mouth.

“Okay, okay!” Romana cried, trying to shut down the argument. “Ramses is right. We’re not calling it anyone’s child. We’re not calling it a child. It’s a...fuck!”

Ramses calmed down. “We’ll just call it the particle entity. It doesn’t have to be an extension of you in any way for most discussions.”

“Great.” Buddy clapped his hands. “Let’s go meet—not my—but a particle entity.”

“That’s not the next step in this process,” Ramses told him.

“It is for me.” Buddy spun around, and disappeared into his dark particles.

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Romana warned.

“No, wait!” Ramses knew what she was about to do. He growled after she called upon her own dark particles, and disappeared too. He teleported the regular way, grateful that he could always pinpoint her location.

They were now standing in a desert. A swarm of dark particles were flying around in the distance. Another swarm was farther down the hill in the opposite direction. According to the drone’s readings, they were multiplying faster than ever, and showing no signs of stopping. The particle entity, however, was nowhere to be seen. They still had time to get out of here before it spotted them. “It might kill us,” Romana contended.

“Then you should leave, so if it kills, it only kills me,” Buddy calculated.

“What if it kills you because it’s made up of my anger, and I’m angry at you?” Romana proposed.

While they were looking at him, Buddy was scanning the horizon, searching for the entity. “Then Team Matic will finally have defeated me, just as they once promised.”

“We should go,” Ramses said. “This is not the way. You start small, and work your way up to the more dangerous experiments. We do it like that for a reason.”

“That’s too cautious, not how I operate, and my efforts are about to pay off.” He was looking down at the ground a few meters away. Dark particles wafted up from the sand, forming themselves into a blob, which assembled into a humanoid figure. It developed approximations of human facial features, but only as creases and pits. It was a great example of body-horror. Its mouth moved. It was trying to speak, though no sound was coming out, probably because it didn’t have vocal cords, or anything else that a normal person would need to function as a living organism. Buddy gave it a Vulcan salute. “We are of peace...always.”

The entity jerked its head to focus on Buddy, reinforcing Ramses’ assertion that the particles were responsive to stimuli.

“I am your father,” Buddy said to it, much to everyone’s chagrin, including the entity’s.

It reached out, and took Buddy by the neck. It was trying to strangle the life out of him.

“I told you!” Romana yelled. She took the entity by its arm, and attempted to pull it off of Buddy, but it was superhumanly strong, and barely paying her any mind. She continued to pull while Ramses urged her to let go. “No! I am your mother, and you will do as I say!”

The entity released Buddy from its grasp, and stared at Romana. It was impossible to tell what it was thinking, or even if it was capable of thinking at all. Without any warning, the particles that it was made up of blew up like a balloon, and enwrapped her. They both disappeared.

“Do you know where she went?” Buddy asked Ramses after they were gone.

Ramses tried to focus on their bond to one another, but he wasn’t getting anything. Dark particles were evidently the one thing that could block the signal. “No.”

“I do.” Buddy walked towards him, almost menacingly, and transported them both away.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 12, 2494

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There was no need to worry about the new Minister of Foreign Affairs for Castlebourne. They didn’t know who she was prior to today, but she was already familiar with time travelers, a few in particular. Rochelle Sumner grew up with Dalton Hawk as he was living through multiple lifetimes. Curious about people like him, she started to be on the lookout for others, eventually running into Dave Seidel and Jesimula Utkin. She was actually with them in the past, trying to figure out how to transport a citrus fruit from the future at the behest of the villainous Buddy. Rochelle couldn’t or wouldn’t divulge whether they succeeded in this mission, but she had long since moved on. In more recent decades, she was trained as an Interstellar Charterwright, so it was her job to handle these situations specifically. The fact that she knew about time travel could have entirely been a coincidence, because it didn’t sound like she had concerned herself with such matters for the last few centuries.

While they were gone, Ramses’ machines finished all of the calculations and simulations for the new mini-slingdrives, but it was complicated. The components were successfully miniaturized, and shunted into specialized pocket dimensions. The problem was that they could not accrue enough quintessence on their own for an individual to make a jump. At least three people had to come together to combine their power. They should all be able to jump together at that point, which meant that the resulting power was more than the sum of its parts, but it was a limitation that the math simply could not overcome.

“I don’t like that word,” Angela decided.

“What would you have me call it?” Ramses asked.

She pursed her lips to the side, and looked up towards the ceiling with only her eyes. “A constraint?”

He laughed a little. “Okay. That’s our constraint. Three or more of us have to go together, which will allow us to theoretically split into two groups, but no more.”

“Can we take other people with us?” Mateo asked him. “Passengers?”

Ramses took an uncomfortably long time to respond. “The AI couldn’t figure that out. I can run as many simulations as you want, but it needs targeted data. It needs to know who these passengers are, and what’s up with their quantum and qualium realms. I can’t just iterate the variables. We would have to calculate each particular passenger, like they used to do with airplanes, when they needed to know everyone’s weight for safety.”

“Have you devised a way to gather this data, if we were to find ourselves in a situation where people are in need of being evacuated?” Leona asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “It’s a little slow, but I can improve the efficiency.”

“That’s good enough for me for now,” Leona determined.

There was a lull in the conversation. No one knew if they were going to leave this very moment, or after saying their goodbyes to everyone here, or even this year. Leona was still worried about her right to be the leader, so she couldn’t just order it. Fortunately, Romana appeared out of nowhere to break the ice. She showed up using the dark particles that she was now stricken with thanks to Buddy’s protracted abduction and imprisonment of her. “Good, you’re not gone yet. I wanna go with you.”

“With us?” Mateo asked. “We don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Romana agreed. “It’s time for me to move on from Team Kadiar. They can handle it without me.”

“It wasn’t about needing you,” Mateo argued. “You should be with your sisters. I can’t...for any extended period of time, but you have a choice.”

“Plus, you put the R in Kadiar,” Olimpia noted.

“We’re not the only three on the team,” Romana said. “It was never only about us, or the name.”

“We’re Team Matic, but more than half of us aren’t Matics,” Marie reminded everyone.

“Y’all wanna switch to Team Walton?” Mateo proposed.

“That’s okay,” Angela replied sincerely.

“I’ve spoken with my sisters,” Romana went on, getting back to the matter at hand. “They give me their blessings. We’re doing good work out there, it’s not like I hate it. It’s just that the operation has grown so much since we started. The Ex-Exins—we need to come up with a better name for them too—have become so much more involved. Kivi and Dubra are considering leaving as well, and just letting the refugees take care of themselves. Mirage would stay, as would Tertius, since their powers are paramount, but I would say that anyone else is interchangeable.”

“I would love to have you here,” Mateo assured her. “I’m not going to harp on how dangerous it will be, because you already know that, and it’s not like you’ve been living in a padded cell for the last several years. I just want to make sure you don’t walk away with any regrets.”

“It hasn’t been long for you,” Romana said, “but I’ve been seriously considering my options for a year, and questioning it for years prior to that. I’m not doing this on a whim.”

“Yeah, it’s hard for us to remember that,” Leona admitted. “Everything happens so fast from our perspective.” Another break in the conversation, though a short one. “Well, okay. You’ll need a suit. Ram, you have a regular IMS that’s fitted with all the slingdrive upgrades?”

“Actually,” Romana interrupted Ramses before he had a chance to speak. “Could I maybe get one of those...nanite suits? What do you call them...?”

“The EmergentSuit,” Ramses answered. His eyes darted over to Romana’s father. “I suppose you’re not a child anymore, and you can make that decision.”

Romana waited for a moment before tensing up with confidence “I have. This is also not on a whim. I don’t want the upgraded substrate like you all have, just the nanobot implants. I don’t know if I should have these dark particles in my body, but they’re part of me now, and I can’t risk losing them.” She looked over at Mateo now. “I hope you don’t disapprove.”

Mateo took a respectful moment to ponder his position, then decided to simply say, “your body, your choice.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Romana underwent the procedure in private with Leona, instead of with an audience like most everyone else. She had a harder time adjusting to the way her brain interfaced with the implants, and their nanites. She had less experience with that sort of thing. She spent a lot of the day practicing in the lab, during which Ramses realized that there was a flaw in his programming. They were optimized to the team’s physiology and neurology. They were walking around with posthuman bodies, and teleportation and illusion powers. Romana was in no risk of exploding, or something, but she wasn’t ever going to be good at using her new suit in its current state. Her software needed to be adapted to account for the differences between her and her friends. He finished it by the time the day was over, but there wasn’t enough time for them to leave Castlebourne for their little exploratory slingdrive jump. Still, Romana wanted to integrate herself into the team, so she chose to turn her pattern back on, and skip over the next year.

When they returned, it was July 13, 2495. Castlebourne was celebrating a major milestone in their development. For the first time ever, the percentage of domes in the Gamma testing phase exceeded the percentage that were still totally non-operational. While the domes currently still in Alpha and Beta testing would gradually go down as more and more people were given the opportunity to explore these worlds, the top number would probably remain largely unchanged moving forward. Using various methods, including crowdsourcing, ordered list iteration, AI creativity, and just plain sitting down and thinking about it, Hrockas had managed to come up with over 67,000 ideas for the various recreational and relaxation destinations. The other 16,000 or so just wouldn’t be original enough to warrant construction, and would be left there as barren deserts. There were many other deserts, but these ones were unplanned, bare, and unused.

It took some time, but Hrockas eventually accepted the fact that there would be empty areas. Four out of five domes did have something to brag about, and that was a pretty big deal. The only reason he chose to construct as many as he did was because that was close to how many could fit on the surface of the planet. It wasn’t like he came up with all of the ideas first. He was happy, and so were the residents. The population from the Goldilocks Corridor was still growing at a steady rate. The ones already here held a vote, and agreed to call themselves Castlebourners. They were here to start new lives, and build a new civilization. Language mattered, and tying themselves to where they escaped from by calling themselves Ex-Exins—or by the designations of their planets of origin—wasn’t helping them move forward.

“Why are you telling them about this?” Hrockas questioned Aeolia when he finally came into the room.

“I’m trying to get them up to speed,” she defended. She was taking charge of the briefing while Hrockas was busy with other matters.

“I don’t care about that. They need to see that desert, and explain what the hell is happening there.”

“What’s happening in what desert?” Leona asked.

Hrockas took wide strides over to the holo-wall on the other side of the conference table. He switched it on. It was showing a nude beach located in the South Ocean. “Who the hell was watching this?” he questioned, frustrated as he was trying to find the right feed on his handheld device. “Here.” He changed it to the view from a flying drone, looking down at one of those deserts that they were talking about. It wasn’t natural, though, as was the majority of Castlebourne outside of the domes. It was sandy and duney. And there was something else.

Leona leaned forward and peered at the screen. “Are those...?”

“Dark particles?” Romana finished the question with a gulp. There were tons of them, flying over the surface, morphing and turning like starlings.

“That’s what they look like to me,” Hrockas responded. “Care to explain?”

“Which dome is that?” Romana asked.

“It’s Dome 216. A meteorite crashed through it years ago, and I never bothered repairing it. I just marked it for disuse, and moved on to 217.”

With fear in her eyes, Romana looked over at her father. “It’s mine. That’s the one I used to release the excess energy I have pent up when I’m not skipping time, or teleporting, or whatever.”

“You always go into the same dome?” Mateo asked her.

“It was in disuse,” Romana explained.

“How is there an atmosphere?” Olimpia asked.

“Oh yeah, if there’s a breach...” Romana posed to Hrockas.

“You tell me. There’s not supposed to be an atmosphere, I can’t believe I didn’t notice. Maybe it has something to do with what you do in there? Some kind of weird form of electrolysis?”

“I purge the energy,” Romana repeated. “It doesn’t really even look like I’m releasing dark particles. It’s more of a transparent wave that distorts space around me. It’s a very private experience, and I don’t talk about it. It shouldn’t be making oxygen, though. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Ramses, you need to go there and see what data you can get,” Leona ordered.

“No,” Romana and Hrockas argued at the same time. “It’s too dangerous,” Hrockas continued. “I’ve sealed it off; placed it in its own quarantine.”

“I’ll send a probe,” Ramses negotiated.

“There’s already one in there,” Hrockas said, pointing to the feed.

Ramses chuckled. “I’ll send a better one than that paper airplane you got roaming around the skies.”

“Please do,” Hrockas said.

They started to get up to return to their respective duties when Marie noticed something. “That paper airplane just spotted a person out there.”

“Computer, zoom in,” Leona commanded.

The camera zoomed in towards the ground. It wasn’t a person, more of a silhouette...made of dark particles. If it had any approximation of eyes, though, it was staring up at them.

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