Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts

Friday, September 4, 2026

Microstory 2750: Directions

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1
Now that she realizes there’s another platform on the other side of the gap, Elise can make out the edge. Her flashlight gloves aren’t illuminating Zelda, though, and neither is the glowstick over there. She tries to scan back and forth, but nothing. “Zelda!” she cries. “Zelda, did you survive that? Keep shakin’ that bush!”
“If she fell to her death, we should have heard her screaming,” Colley reasons.
“Not necessarily,” Elise returns. “Some adrenaline junkies die so often that they don’t even have the reflex to scream in fear anymore.”
“You said there was another chute?” asks the girl in the yellow shirt, whose name Elise still doesn’t know.
“That’s what it looks like,” Elise answers. “I would sooner throw my body against the exit than try to do what Zelda did. If she couldn’t make it, I could never.”
“Such a compliment,” Zelda’s voice comes. She’s upside down, hanging over the doorway.
“How are you back on this side?” Colley questions.
“Rule number two,” Zelda begins, “in an escape room, there is always a second way. Come on, I’ll pull you up one by one. The catwalk is narrow, but doable.”
Elise goes up first. She and Zelda then help the others up too. They walk single-file along the three walls until making it to the other side, where they find another door. This one opens up to a garage. It’s barely big enough to fit the land vehicle that’s parked here. Unlike the last room, this room is pure white and glowing. It’s pristine in an eerie sort of way. There are no other doors. The vehicle has nowhere to go. It’s also locked.
“If there’s one thing I know from the few escape rooms I’ve tried,” the yellow-shirt girl says as she’s sidestepping around the car, “is that if they give you a lightswitch, you always flip it.”
All these people have done escape rooms before. Elise has never tried. They take skill, but not definable skills. They’re not in Skilldome.
She flips the switch. The lights turn off for a few seconds before being replaced with blacklights. The walls are absolutely covered in graffiti. “I’m Jolanda, by the way. I don’t remember if I said that.” She’s looking at the writing and images, as is everyone else. “I saw this in an ancient show once. He hurt his leg real bad.”
Colley sidesteps around the car now, going the other direction, and looking at the graffiti carefully. “I see the pattern. It’s a coded language.” He runs his hand along the paint. “It’s actually not that complex.” He points at various sections of the walls with both hands like he’s making connections in his head. “I’m guessing Rage doesn’t want us to spend days in here. Just give me a few minutes to compile the vocabulary.”
“What’s your specialty again?” Minotaur asks him.
“Anthropology, history, linguistics, culture,” Colley answers as he’s still looking over the imagery. “I cracked the mystery of Empty Planet in record time.”
“I’m not familiar with that one.” Elise is probably showing how sheltered she is.
“You pretend you’ve landed on an alien world where all the aliens have disappeared. You have to figure out what happened to them, and where the om—never mind, that’s saying too much.” He looks over at Jolanda. “Is there a keypad on that car?”
“Yes,” she responds. “It’s alphanumeric. Did you crack this code too?”
“Not yet,” Colley says. He’s staring up at the very center of the ceiling, where a circle about half a meter in diameter is suspiciously blank. “I’ll be asking you to turn them off and on again in a particular sequence. Always flip when I say to, with no delay.”
“Okay.” Jolanda gets into position.
Colley is still staring at that blank spot. As he instructs her when to turn the lights off and when to turn them on, he deliberately changes tempo. She has to flip them at the right speed for the new images to appear one by one. Elise doesn’t recognize the glyphs but Colley seems to know exactly what he’s seeing. “Stop, I got it. Here’s the code. One, seven, three, four, six, seven, three, two, one, four, seven, six, castaway, three, two, seven, eight, nine, seven, seven, seven, six, four, three, temple, seven, three, two, volunteer, seven, three, one, one, seven, eight, eight, eight, seven, three, two, four, seven, six, seven, eight, nine, seven, six, four, three, seven, six.”
The door opens. “I’m driving of course,” Jolanda says, getting in the driver’s seat.
Everyone else gets in too, even though they don’t know how to get out. Elise is in the back. She watches Jolanda stare at the console, evidently not knowing what to do.
“Uhh...I don’t see a start button. Machine...go!” Jolanda attempts.
“Here.” Something Elise actually knows. She leans forward and flips the visor down. The keys fall out, so she catches them in her other hand. She sticks it in the ignition, and turns it. She tilts her head when it revs up. “Hm. Either this is gas-powered, or it’s simulated to be. To be safe, we better open the door.”
“How do you do that?” Jolanda asks.
Elise reaches up again and presses the button on the garage door opener.
The wall in front of them recedes from them, splits in half, and slides to either side. Jolanda smirks when she sees the traffic on the expansive roadways ahead of them.
“We don’t technically have to drive,” Colley points out.
“Yes, we do,” Jolanda and Zelda say simultaneously as if having rehearsed it.
“Hold on to your butts,” Jolanda warns.
“Samuel L. Jackson,” Colley cites, “circa 1993.”
“Wait!” Elise interrupts. “Those straps are called seatbelts. You put it around your chests, and buckle them securely to keep your body in place.”
“You may have learned how to drive safely,” Jolanda warns as she grips the steering wheel, and decidedly doesn’t put her seatbelt on. “I learned how to drive well.” She slams on the accelerator, and shoots them onto the track.
Immediately, a robocar nearly collides with them, but she doesn’t let it. Each time Elise thinks they’re about to die, Jolanda finds a way out of it. She doesn’t ever turn her head. She can watch straight in front of her while knowing everything else that’s going on around them. It’s a wild ride. Elise can’t help but keep checking her mind stream. She trusts that Rage chose this driver for a good reason, but Jolanda was right; Elise only knows how to drive safely. She has to try to relax and let the chips fall where they may, so to speak. After ten minutes, they find themselves right back where they started.
“How the hell did that happen? Is this another puzzle?” Jolanda questions.
Elise unbuckles, leans forward again, and retrieves a map from the glovebox.
“Give that to me,” Minotaur requests. They spend a minute looking it over. “Okay, I know the route. You can drive the same speed, but follow my instructions.”

Thursday, January 29, 2026

Microstory 2594: Renata Slides Most of the Outfits to One Side of the Rack

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata slides most of the outfits to one side of the rack. She slides some of them back the other way before taking a smaller fraction, and trying again. She’s not seeing anything that would fit her, not stylistically, that is. She looks over at Demo. “I’m more of a sexy, but still professional, business casual, or a black catsuit and a gun, kind of gal. This stuff just isn’t me.”
“It doesn’t have to be you,” Demo explains. “You just have to look the part for tonight. Where we’re going, we’re not trying to stand out.” She glides over and picks up a sparkly silver dress, holding it up against Renata’s body. “This is what everyone else will be wearing.”
“Why do you even have all these costumes? Do you go to a lot of fancy parties?”
Demo smiles. “The set diagram of the wealthiest among us, and the most crooked, is practically a single circle. They care a great deal about appearances, which is why...” She tests another dress, but decides against it, “...they always hold these grand, expensive parties.”
“Why do we have to infiltrate this party at all?” Renata questions. “Can’t we just wait until it’s over? Talk to him in the morning?”
“Time is of the essence,” Demo reminds her. “Your mother could be searching for you from outside the network, like a god. And The Provider prefers to step away to do business during his events. He doesn’t want to seem desperate by spending all of his time in the spotlight.” She tests another dress. “This one.”
Renata accepts the outfit with a sigh. “The Provider,” she echoes. “That’s such a dumb name. Is he like me...or like you?”
“We’re not allowed to talk about it, so I don’t know. If he’s a visitor,” Demo continues as she’s taking it upon herself to remove Renata’s clothing, starting with her tank top, “he’s a very old one. I’ve been here nearly since it opened, and he was already well-established in canon.” She tries to unbutton Renata’s shorts.
Renata pulls away. “That’s okay, I can dress myself.” She finishes changing her clothes. She then steps over to look at her reflection. The image is corrupted by dust and mirror rot, but she gets the idea. She’s wearing a floor-length emerald dress made of satin. It’s showing a meaningful amount of cleavage, which is fairly typical of her, but there’s also a slit along her left leg, which is not so typical. She looks quite pretty, and she has to admit as much, but it feels awkward just the same. Still, Demo is right. This is part of the job. Had she made it past one day in the program, her training would have prepared her to be a chameleon anywhere, rather than just a shadow in the shadows. It’s too late for that training now, though. She’s in the deep end.
“Whoa,” Quidel says as he’s staring at her from the top of the ladder.
Reneta looks back at him via the mirror. “Are you allowed to be attracted to a synthetic person? That is, is it socially acceptable?”
Quidel finishes climbing up to the loft, and approaches her. “Absolutely. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you. You may not be human, but you’re still a person.”
Demo starts to unbutton her own shirt before shifting gears to untying her boots. “You’ll see once you’re on the outside. You will not have a hard time finding friends and mates, if that’s what you’re interested in.”
Lycander is walking up the ladder now, paying close attention to the rungs as he’s talking. “Okay. The car is all filled up with the odorized water that we’re supposed to pretend is petrol.” He finally looks up. “Whoa.”
“That’s what I said,” Quidel jokingly complained. “Get your own interjection of intemperate awe.”
“Right,” Lycander says. He checks his watch. “If we were to leave now, we would be on time.”
“Then we’ll leave in half an hour,” Demo decides.
The four of them continue to get ready, putting on makeup, and adjusting their snazzy formalwear. Exactly 29 minutes later, they’re all in the car, thankfully with the top up to block all the sand that they’re about to kick up. “Check the glovebox,” Demo suggests to Renata.
Renata opens it to see a little gun holstered in a garter belt. “It’s cute.”
“My good one, which fits a larger gun, broke. That’s only my backup, so don’t fire too many shots, or you’ll run out.”
“This is for me?” Renata presses.
“Of course. If I die, I wake up in one of my safehouse eggs. If you die, we have no idea what happens to your memory. The answer is usually, don’t think about it, but right now, I would say that you’re a more valuable asset than even that weird techy thing in the back.” She starts the drive.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Renata lifts her leg to wrap the holster around it. The slit on the side opens pretty wide. She can feel Quidel’s gaze. She looks back at him with a smile. “Stay on mission, soldier.”
“Good point,” he says. “Lycander, I should be on car duty with the device. You go in with them instead.”
“The assignments have been set, Mr. Jespersen. Figure it out,” Lycander replies without any hesitation or self-doubt.
They drive across the desert, and pull up to the lavish mansion. It is hard to miss out here in the middle of nowhere. The valet tries to take the keys, but Lycander takes them from Demo instead, insisting that he’ll find his own parking space. They don’t really like to do that, but they’re programmed to be accommodating. He drives off while the other three walk up the steps, and into the lights and sounds. They mingle for a little bit before Demo spots the man that they’re here to see, inconspicuously pointing him out to the other two across the room.
Renata takes a deep breath and tunnels her vision onto his face. She was assigned to make first contact, so she must remember to not be pushy, or try to get down to business right away.
As she’s walking towards him, he looks up and notices her. “Ah, Miss Granger. How lovely of you to join us.”
He knows her already? “Mister Provider,” she says with a polite nod, as instructed.
“I believe you two have met?” He claims with a smirk as he’s helping the woman he was talking to turn around.
It’s Libera. Maybe they should have arrived on time.

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

Microstory 2587: Renata Realizes That if Her Mother Wants the Device, She Shouldn’t Have It

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata realizes that if her mother wants the device, she shouldn’t have it. For a moment, they stand there awkwardly. Each Granger is trying to figure out what the other one is going to do without saying anything, which might give away their own respective plans. Polly shifts his eyes between them, making his own decisions, if he’s even capable of that. Renata helped him realize that he wasn’t going to die, but does that mean they’re the same? She has clearly been heading towards her own epiphany for a while now, but Libera must have done something to make that happen, and it doesn’t appear that she did the same for Polly. Still, he seems to have some sense of what should happen here. He reaches into his pocket, and tosses the car keys into the air, not even towards Renata. As he does so, he says, “go. I’ll hold her off for you.”
Renata starts running, catching the keys mid-bound. She can hear the two robots fighting each other as she’s getting into the car. She ignites it, and backs out. He already pulled off most of the brush, but the rest needs to fall off the hood. She starts driving towards the two of them. Just like Quidel before, even without them having to speak, Polly just knows what she’s thinking. After grappling with Libera this whole time, he changes tactics, and shoves her away from him, stepping back to get clear. Renata slams into her mother who isn’t really her mother, then stops. “Get in!”
“Just go!” Polly urges.
“Get in!” she repeats.
Polly reluctantly gets into the passenger seat, and lets Renata drive off. “I’m the driver here.”
“Not today, you’re not,” Renata claps back.
He looks over his shoulder. “She’s not there.”
“What?”
“She’s not behind us,” Polly clarifies. “She’s not on the ground, or even standing up. I don’t see her.”
Libera’s face suddenly appears at the driver’s side window. Despite never having thought she was strong enough to punch through a window before, Renata knows herself better now. She may not understand it, but just believing in her own power has to be enough. She smashes right through the glass, tipping Libera’s chin on the follow-through. Libera has to let go with her left hand, but manages to hold on with her right. She’s being dragged on the ground as Renata pulls the car onto the paved highway.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” Libera cries. “We’re not on opposite sides. Let me explain!”
“I can’t trust you!” Renata argues. “You’ve been lying to me my whole life!”
“I’ve not been your mother your whole life! I replaced a different model only a few years ago!”
“That makes it better?” Renata jerks the car to the left, and then the right as fast as she can, trying to shake Libera off. It doesn’t work.
“The intelligences in this dome built something that was never made before, because it’s not legal! I didn’t come here for it, though! I came here for you! I’m trying to help you! I’m trying to free you all! Let me show you. All I need to do is hold my left hand up to Polly’s face!”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Renata sees that Libera has been holding on to the door, instead of some other part of the car. That is a weak spot. Hoping that it doesn’t go beyond the limits of her strength, she lifts her left foot, and slams it against the door. It snaps off of its hinges, and falls down on the road, taking Libera with it.
“I can’t believe you just literally kicked your mother out of the car,” Polly muses.
“Renata looks in the rearview mirror, watching as Libera stands up and starts to dust herself off. “She’ll be fine.”
“She knows where we’re going. She knows the protocol.”
“There’s another town not too far from it, which will probably have a payphone too. We don’t have to call from a specific one.”
Polly nods. “I don’t really, um...get what’s going on. With the whole, you know...”
“I don’t either,” Renata assures him. “But that well has run dry. Quidel wants to tell me the truth. He tried to explain at the bank, but he knew that I wasn’t ready to hear it. I need to speak with him without my fake mother breathing down our necks.”
Polly nods again, and waits for his next question. “She said something about us being in a dome?”
Renata looks in her rearview mirror again. There is no telling how powerful Libera is. She could be as fast as a car. She depresses the accelerator more out of fear. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means, but it sounds really apocalypty, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It does.”
They continue to drive down the highway, not running into any more trouble. They turn left instead of right. The other town is sixteen kilometers away, instead of nine, but it’s not the one they agreed on going to, so it’s safer. Unless Libera realizes that they might do that, and is expecting them to show up there. But if she can’t run as fast as a car, she’s going to need to find some mode of transportation. Oh, shit. The Javelotians. They were obviously not stupid enough to drive right up to the cabin in a loud vehicle, but it’s probably not far away, and if Libera has had half the kind of training Renata expected to have from the NSD, it would not be hard for her to find it.
They come to another fork in the road. The next big city is a hundred kilometers away. That’s where Renata would have taken the device had she been on the other team. If anyone started to suspect that one of them was a decoy, they would probably postulate that the real one was moving in the opposite direction. That just makes sense. So a good strategy might be to just take it farther down the road from where the decoy is heading. It’s the last place they would look. Maybe. If she’s wrong, and she drives a hundred kilometers out of the way, it will delay their reunion. But then again, that might be a good thing. If Libera gets her hands on a phone, they won’t respond to her. There’s a reason they put her on the decoy team. McWilliams doesn’t trust her either, so she doesn’t have a passphrase. Only Renata does. Only she can make contact. “Strap in, Polly. It’s gonna be a long trip.” She turns left again.

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.”

Saturday, December 6, 2025

Extremus: Year 117

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

Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Microstory 2487: Skilldome

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I don’t want to speak for you, but I’m guessing that your life is pretty easy. Everything you need is handed to you, along with a few things that you might just want. There are those who spend their whole lives holed up in their modules, connected to VR or the network. Dayfruit growers provide them with food. Drones deliver their feedstock. Their electricity and water is piped in, and their waste is shipped out. Their personal robot does all their work. I’m not criticising people who live like this. This is just a preamble so you’ll understand what purpose Skilldome serves. So many things that you may or may not take for granted were either not cheap for our ancestors, hardly available, or outright didn’t exist. Obviously, different time periods came with different limitations, and over the years, there are skills that we’ve lost to automation, and engineered simplicity. I’m not saying that you’ll become a better person if you learn how to drive a car with your hands and feet. I’m just telling you that the skill is something that this dome offers. You can also learn how to churn butter, command an animal to plow a field, or write something down with a pencil and paper. It’s hard to describe what these activities are, since there’s such a broad range, but it’s basically everything that people used to have to do to be productive that we don’t anymore. To be sure, there are some things that still hold some merit in our world. You might not have access to a medpod or healing nanites, even today, so knowing how to perform first aid is one of those skills that some people have maintained anyway. But for those of us whose minds it didn’t cross to do it before, if you’re on Castlebourne, come on down and take a class. As far as skills that are less practical in the synthetic era go, like stuffing mail in envelopes, or coding a program in an obsolete computer language called C++, you can do it just for fun, or to have a greater appreciation for modern living. Or come up with your own reasons. There are no requirements on what you have to do when you come here, but if you do come, and you do choose a particular skill, it is asked of you to use the tools you are given, and not “cheat”. If you’re taking a math test, only use one of those old basic calculators that they will provide you with. Don’t just ask an AI to do it for you. That defeats the purpose. I actually saw a guy do this, which was so stupid, because no one was making him take this otherwise pointless test. What you get out of coming here is entirely up to you. Ain’t nobody gonna hold your hand. Nor should they have to.

Friday, August 29, 2025

Microstory 2485: Passage of Rites

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
They call this an antimetabole, with the name referring to the physical space where rites are performed, as opposed to the original phrase, which involves a more metaphorical passage from one state of being to another. A rite of passage is a ceremony—or a more abstract transitional period—that marks some change in a person’s life, often when they are still young. In some cases, it’s specifically meant to mark someone’s development from youth to adulthood. Bar Mitsvahs, Quinceñeras, and Sweet Sixteens are all about this concept, and come at the age when that culture believes an individual sufficiently matures. It doesn’t have to be based on a particular age, or there might be some leeway. For instance, our ancestors used to have to wait to learn how to drive land vehicles, and once they did learn this skill, it came with a sense of independence that they usually did not feel before. It often happened at a certain age, but it didn’t have to, and some people never learned. Different people have different ideas about what someone needs to experience in their life before they can be respected in some form or another. Some have believed that you weren’t a man, for instance, until you participated in a physically violent altercation. Others thought you really only needed to learn how to hunt game, or go on some kind of lone journey in the wilderness. Some rites of passage are a very specific set of rituals which offer symbolic practices to represent the transition. They might be asked to drink a bitter drink to symbolize the harsh realities of life, then receive a sweet candy to exemplify the reward of a life well lived. Some of them their participants prepared their whole lives for. A lot of the rites of passage shown here have been lost to time as the culture who practiced them forgot, or had newer generations who began to see less value in maintaining them. There’s a relatively new tradition on Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida where the current permanent residents gift each of their younglings a stone every year of their lives. They are expected to hold onto their collection between the ages of six and seventeen, even as it grows, until their seventeenth birthday, when they throw all of them over a cliff. These stones represent the care and attention the child needed as they were growing up. The weight of them collectively represents the burden they placed on their families. Ridding themselves of their collections represents the second stage in their life, when they are now expected to fend for themselves—to collect their own proverbial stones. That rite of passage is here too, reenacted by visitors, so they can physically feel the meaning behind the traditions. Other rites are performed exclusively by androids, such as the human sacrifices, which thankfully, no culture today has continued to observe. As I was saying about the birthday observances, there’s a lot of fun here, and you can come just to party. But I hope you do venture out to the other areas, and see some of the more somber and profound events. You can learn about any of these things in the archives, but there’s nothing quite like seeing it up close for yourself. I’ve learned a lot here already, even though I’m an archaeologist, and I’m sure you will too.

Friday, July 4, 2025

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.

Sunday, June 22, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 23, 2505

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Mateo’s nanites were just about done healing him. They prioritized the most life-threatening injuries first before moving on to the less serious damage. So a few cuts and bruises remained, and they hadn’t done anything for the pain yet. Even so, he could now stand up, and get a look around. Octavia still didn’t look concerned, so maybe this was some kind of refuge.
“We need to get moving,” she warned. “I let you recover, but it’s not safe here.”
“Is it safe anywhere?” he asked as he was following her along the stream.
“No,” she conceded. “The horde that was chasing after us can’t follow. Free from oversight, they’ve formed alliances, and divided the land into territories. We’re kind of on a border, so that offers us a little protection, but someone will eventually grow brave enough to cross the line—or hungry enough.”
What did you mean, no oversight?”
“This isn’t the real Castlebourne,” Octavia began to explain. “I don’t know exactly what it is, like an alternate reality, or something, but none of the staff is here. I don’t know who runs it—if it’s Pacey on his own, or if he’s working with someone else—but they don’t keep watch over the safeguards. These monsters are more vicious than they’re supposed to be.”
“How long have you been here?”
“The Vellani Ambassador rescued me and a bunch of others from Ex-486 in 2498. I wasn’t there long before I started hearing how worried the crew was about your whereabouts. I don’t know what they thought was wrong, but they were afraid that something had happened to you. So I agreed to investigate while they continued on with their missions.”
“Well, you found it. You found us.”
Now, I have,” she agreed. “I found Pacey first, though, and he stuffed me in here so I wouldn’t interfere with his business. I’ve been running for my life ever since.”
“What happens if you die here?” he pressed.
“Nothing good,” she answered simply. “My body isn’t like yours, so I’ve been avoiding everyone. There are some buildings; particularly houses. They’re mostly haunted, but the ghosts have rules, and if you learn them, you can stay safe for a while.” She sighed. “But I think you can help end the madness forever.”
“How’s that?”
She looked around with a face full of paranoia and fatigue. “We’re pretty close to one side of this dome, and I can navigate us there. Unfortunately, once we get there, we’re going to have to walk halfway around the perimeter to reach the exit.”
“There should be more exits than that.”
“Like I said, it’s not the real Castlebourne. Pacey made modifications. There is a way out, but I can’t get through it with you.”
“It takes two to open the door, or something?”
“No, it takes an elite.”
I’m an elite?”
“Yeah, of course you are. You were in Hrockas’ inner circle, and he hardwired contingencies into the software that should grant you access to any area at any time. The way he sees it, the planet is as much yours as it is his because of how much you contributed to its development. I don’t think that Pacey could have erased all those privileges without breaking the systems entirely. He would have had to reprogram everything from scratch. I’m sure he’s technically capable of doing that, but he’s kind of old school, so doesn’t like AI all that much. He likes to be hands-on, so he deliberately limits the tools in his toolbox.”
“So I can unlock the door, and we can both walk through?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Does he not know that?”
“I don’t know how much he knows about what I know.”
“It could be a trial,” Mateo put forth. “He may want us to escape. Some antagonists want us to stay out of their way, but others want us to stop them, like Thanos is with the Avengers.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“And you can’t teleport, right? Because I can’t. I tried while I was running once I remembered that I should be able to.”
Octavia shook her head. “I don’t have any powers at all. I lost that when I went back in time as September, and created a new timeline. I don’t like to talk about it, but it sets me apart from the other Paiges.”
“You don’t have to,” he assured her. “How dangerous is the border?”
She bobbled her head. “It has its advantages, and disadvantages. The monsters don’t know that they’re in a dome. If you showed one of them the wall, and they were the kind who could talk, they would probably just say, it doesn’t look like anything to me. They’re programmed to stop several meters before it, but they patrol that border, because they can still feel that there’s something weird about it. You’re safe beyond their reach, but there aren’t any resources there. No freshwater, no edible plants. You can take breaks, but you can’t stay.”
“Then let’s grab some supplies along the way. Now you can carry twice as much as before, and I don’t eat much.”
“Some of your powers and abilities are available to you, as you discovered when you jumped off the cliff and survived, but not all of them. If you aren’t hungry already, you will be soon. We need to get to that exit.”
“You seem to know a lot about it; about me.”
“You were part of my investigation,” she clarified. “I had to know who I was looking for. A lot has changed since I last saw you, many iterations of Paige ago.”
“Yeah.”
After nightfall, they finally managed to reach the border. She was right, there was a narrow open space that seemed to circle around the border. The problem was that this meant walking an additional 130 kilometers. Mateo didn’t know how his pattern worked in here. Even if he woke up right at midnight central, there would not be enough time for them to cross that distance before the end of the day. Paige would have to wait a whole year for him to come back, and then they still wouldn’t be able to make it in under 24 hours. Perhaps this plan wasn’t so perfect. There had to be a closer exit, perhaps hidden behind a false wall, or a hologram. As they were sliding their hands along what felt like glass or metal, they started hearing a commotion behind them. They turned around to find a new horde of monsters, about the same size as the one from before. But then more began to appear on the ends, and it eventually felt more like ten times that size. They were just standing there, staring at the two of them menacingly.
Paige’s watch beeped. “Oh, no.”
“What does that mean? Don’t tell me the worst monster comes out at a certain time.”
“No. It’s an hour until midnight central. You’re about to disappear for a year. This was stupid, we should have run straight through the center to the door. Now we’re screwed.”
“Don’t be so sure. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Mateo asked her. “In that clearing over there.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“If I recall correctly, it’s pretty maneuverable.”
“It’s pretty deadly.”
In the 1980s, a horror movie came out that would become a cult classic decades later. It was simply called Seatbelt Killer. Mateo couldn’t remember the exact backstory, but the villain’s origins involved his seatbelt getting stuck while his wife was being violated outside in front of him. He ended up turning the car on, and running over one of the rapists, but when the husband turned to get the other one, the second rapist threw his wife in front of the car, leading him to hitting her instead. The rapist then ran off, eventually getting trapped between the car and a cliff. With nothing left to live for, the husband drove right into him, and over the edge, where they both died. Then he and the car came back to life as a ghost, and started killing the protagonists over the course of the movie. The premise was that he literally couldn’t get out of his car anymore, but you couldn’t escape by going inside, because as a ghost car, it could fit through doorways, down hallways, and even up the stairs. You would think that he would kill rapists, but because he accidentally killed his own wife, the ghost could now only kill rape survivors. There was an implication that he didn’t want to do this, but was...driven to, so to speak. Due to the sensitive nature of the film, they never gave the car a name, but it was entirely fictional. The propmasters apparently manufactured the models from scratch so they wouldn’t have any sort of legal or reputational issues to contend with. But whatever it was, it was here, and Mateo wanted to steal it.
“Mateo...” Octavia began uncomfortably. “I can’t go near that thing.”
He knew what she meant right away, and if she was willing to talk to him about it, this wasn’t the time. “Have you seen the movie?”
“No, but I know the premise, which means I know that I qualify as a target.”
“The Final Girl survives by getting in through the passenger side window, and taking the steering wheel. She didn’t just take control of it, she literally removed it.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t easy.”
“It’ll be easier for us. She was alone. You have me.”
“But if we take off the steering wheel, we won’t be able to drive either.”
“His weapon is the car itself, his hands are only his means of controlling that. If we get inside, I can control where the car goes, and he can’t hurt you while you’re in the back. We’re not gonna remove the wheel, because unlike the girl in the movie, we need to use it.”
“It sounds risky.”
“It always is. It’s your decision, though. I understand that I don’t understand. But I can tell you that I will protect you, and I’m a damn good driver.”
“Okay. We better come up with a plan fast, because we’re running out of time. Even if you drive as fast as possible, it will take nearly the full hour to get there.”
Mateo nodded, then started to shake his head. “We’re not going around the perimeter. We’re going straight through.”
They hatched their plan, though it wasn’t all that complicated. Octavia came up with the idea to use herself as bait for the Seatbelt Killer, but Mateo wasn’t getting off easy. He was bait as well. While most of the monsters in this dome wanted to kill both or either of them, only a few of them were exclusively attracted to Octavia, based on her profile. They would use this to their advantage. Mateo would lure all of the others away, so Octavia was only contending with one of them. Once it was just her and the car, she would hop over the boundary, back to the safety of the perimeter. This would give her a respite that the characters in the original movie never had. From there, with the driver essentially frozen in place, she could simply climb onto the hood, and slip through the open window. Mateo never saw her accomplish this, but it evidently worked. She drove up next to him while the horde was chasing him through the woods. He dove in the back, and she sped up so fast that no one else was able to keep up.
“We need to get you up front so you can do the steering!” she shouted. She was navigating the terrain pretty well, but still struggling against the driver. He was bound to his seat, but not entirely helpless there. He was still trying to peel her arms away, just as he had the girl in the film. With a bit of ingenuity, this heroine had managed to pry the wheel off of its place, which stole his power from him, and allowed her to escape back through the window. A mid-credits scene suggested that he was about to be successful in finding a workaround by rigging a tire pressure gauge as an ad hoc steering wheel, which may have played out in a sequel, but it was never made. Mateo was a driver, so he watched movies about drivers, even bad ones, and sometimes he read about them too. There was a theory that made the rounds on the message boards that this sequel would have ended with the Final Girl also managing to get in the car, but solving the problem by finally freeing the killer from his eternal seatbelt. Could it be true? The creator never responded to these rumors, but an unverified snippet of the sequel’s script appeared to support the lore. Whether that was how it would have worked in the movies was not the question, though. The question was...was the android who was programmed to believe he was the Seatbelt Killer coded with this solution, or would it only make things worse?
“Do you have a knife?” Mateo asked her. Now that he was inside, he could hold the killer’s arms back, but the guy was really strong. They might not be able to keep him at bay for the duration of the drive.
“What?”
“A pocket knife. Scissors. Anything!”
“No, I don’t have anything like that!” Octavia yelled back. “I didn’t know I was gonna be trapped in the woods for seven years!”
“I need something sharp,” he muttered. Just then, a glow started to form in his right hand. He let go of the killer’s arm to look at it in wonder. The glow consolidated, and began to take shape. Before too long, it was in the form of a knife. And he could feel it in his palm. Somehow, despite Pacey’s restrictions, Mateo’s weird telekinetic hologram powers were back, at least in this one instance. Not taking any chances that it wouldn’t last, Mateo slipped the blade underneath the belt, and with one slice, ripped it right open.
The killer stopped struggling. For a moment, he just sat there in awe. Then he pulled the strap through the loop, opened the door, and tumbled out. Octavia sat there in shock, not even paying attention to where they were going, which was all right, because they were in an open area now, and slowing down quickly.
“Okay. I’ll take it from here.” Mateo climbed over the headrest, and situated himself in the driver’s seat. Then he took off again, free from resistance or distractions.
Now that they were clear of the monsters, their primary struggle was against the clock. In the movie, the car could phase through objects, or even squeeze itself through like a bus out of Harry Potter. That wasn’t possible in the real world, so Mateo just had to negotiate the trees and other obstacles. He kept going though, relying on his great skills, which had only been enhanced during his stint in the Underburg dome. The clock was ticking as they were approaching the part of the wall where Octavia said there was a door. He barreled through the treeline, and onto the perimeter again, almost all the way on the other side of the dome. New monsters were upon them now, but were still bound by that imaginary line.
“How do I open this?” Mateo asked. Before Octavia could answer, he placed a hand on the handle, and heard a buzzing sound. “Hm. Was that it?” He opened it.
Octavia breathed a sigh of relief as her watch was counting down. “Finally.” Four, three, two, one.
Mateo blinked, and it was 2506.