The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 20, 2533

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They were still breathing, and the station hadn’t been destroyed, but it was in no shape to travel. Ramses and Leona spent the rest of the day affecting repairs, or rather, programming the automators to start working on them instead. Séarlas was the engineering twin, and could no longer fulfill this role. Franka wasn’t completely helpless, but she couldn’t do it all on her own. They weren’t entirely sure if they were still on their time-jumping pattern since they were waylaid for a year in the quintessence trap, but come midnight central, they received their answer. When they returned a year later, the station was still in a spiral shape, but it was functioning normally, and Franka was eager to test their quintessence drive. While the team was capable of returning safely inside of a moving vessel, even if it ultimately moved light years away, slinging instantaneously across the universe might break that spatial tethering feature. They just didn’t know yet, so Franka and her crew had to wait it out for months. Now the question was, where were they going to go?

“What about—?” Mateo began.

“Nope,” Leona argued before he could even finish his sentence. “I don’t wanna go back to Earth.”

That was not what Mateo was going to say. He was going to suggest Castlebourne, and he was about to clarify that when he sensed caution from Leona. She didn’t want to go back there. He saw her eyes dart over to Franka and Miracle. No, she didn’t want them to go there. He had to save it so they wouldn’t get suspicious. “Sorry, we just hadn’t been back in a while. I was hoping to see what Kansas City looked like now.” Yeah, that sounded like a plausible sentiment.

“Mostly forest,” Ramses claimed, or guessed; whichever.

It had been a long time since Mateo had to spell something out using his emotions. He decided to use an abbreviation and hope that everyone on the team understood. He forced himself to feel Pride, and then Disgust.

The girls were confused, but Ramses got it. “Let’s go to Proxima Doma. We need to know what happened there anyway.”

“Perfect,” Franka replied before turning her head to face her crew. “Get in stasis,” she ordered them. It officially consisted only of Miracle and Octavia, but Dutch wasn’t on Team Matic, so he had just spent the last year on Spiral Station. The first two reluctantly agreed, but he seemingly didn’t know if he had to do what she said. “It’s for your protection,” Franka went on. “These guys are practically immortal, but one miscalculation in the inertial dampeners, and I’m scraping your guts off the walls. I just cleaned them, I don’t wanna do it again.”

“It’s not that,” Dutch said sheepishly.

“Are you afraid I won’t wake you back up? We can set a timer for ten minutes.”

“No.” He would have been kicking the gravel if there were any gravel. “I was just wondering if I could switch to using...one of the ones next to the girls.”

“Oh.” Franka was hesitant, for some reason.

“What’s the problem?” Leona questioned. “Are they VIP pods?”

“The P stands for pods,” Romana joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“They’re not special, but it’s in the crew section,” Franka explained. “He used one of the guest pods last year when we had to do a contaminant purge.” She looked back at Dutch. “If you’re asking to use a crew pod, are you asking to be on the crew?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He gestured towards Team Matic. “Lord knows I can’t go with them. I assume you will be parting ways eventually.”

Franka sighed, and stared at her once-parents for a moment. “Probably.”

“If we’re voting, I vote yes,” Miracle decided.

“Same,” Octavia concurred.

Franka smiled like a mother letting her child have another cookie before Thanksgiving dinner. “Okay. Go calibrate your new pod to your body properties.”

Dutch smiled, and ran off with the ladies.

“You’re getting in a pod too, right?” Mateo asked Franka.

“Of course. I just wanted to warn you that I don’t have enough for everyone, so I recommend you suit up, and be prepared to teleport. I mean, if the splat happens, it’ll happen fast...”

“I’ll sync our interfaces with the slingdrive countdown,” Ramses assured her. “We’ll teleport 500 meters away, whether the inertial dampeners hold or not.”

“Good idea.” Franka tried to pivot away, but stopped. “And it’s called a quintessence drive.”

“No, it’s not,” Olimpia defended her decision to coin the term.

As it turned out, they were all worried about nothing. The inertial dampeners held just fine. The quintessence drive itself went fine too. Or rather, it didn’t fall apart. Navigation was still bad, which Ramses suspected had more to do with the coherence gauge. He did have trouble repairing it as it was based on slightly different technology than the ones he built for the Vellani Ambassador, and their array. He was confident that he could fix it now since they had just gone through a test run, which gave him more data. Fortunately, they were in a safe enough place. It wasn’t Proxima Doma, but it was another core world. Or worlds, rather.

They were in the Gatewood Collective, orbiting Barnard’s Star, which was about six light years from Earth. “I thought there weren’t any planets,” Angela argued. “That’s what everyone has always says about it.” Gatewood was a special place. While it was relatively close to the seed of civilization, it was decidedly not a colony. It was sometimes called The Lumber Yard, because it was only a gigantic store, and permanent habitation was absolutely not allowed. It was only designated for raw materials, and there was a good reason for that.

A radius of 50 light years was allocated for the stellar neighborhood. Most of the colonization efforts were state-sanctioned, by one state or another, or maybe one of the institutions that used to be a for-profit corporation. A few of those held on past the transition to a post-scarcity economy because they had by then become legally classified as utilities. Think Google and Wikipedia. A growing number of colonists, however, were small factions of people who wanted to start fresh elsewhere. A select few of these were allowed to find a home somewhere in the neighborhood, but the vast majority of them were expected to travel all the way out to the Charter Cloud, or beyond. Since they were not commissioned by an officially recognized state, it would be unfair for them to use resources from the solar system. But this created a problem. If they couldn’t build spaceships, how were they going to leave? Enter Gatewood. While cyclers were transporting people to and from the other nearest colonies constantly, no route was as heavily trafficked as the one to Barnard’s Star. That was the limit to the resource expenditure for the pioneers. The state agreed to transport them to the Collective, and house them there temporarily, but they would have to begin construction on their ship or fleet immediately, and bug out as soon as possible.

“There are no habitable planets,” Leona clarified. “Proxima Doma and Castlebourne aren’t habitable either, but they’re hospitable enough to make special arrangements, specifically the domes. Other worlds prefer lava tubes, or orbiting stations. The planets you’re seeing over there in the distance—there are four of them total—are low mass and extremely hot. Yeah, you could technically build a settlement on one of them, but it wouldn’t be very easy. That’s why they chose this for raw materials. They focus mostly on the asteroids and comets, but I believe they’re already starting to stripmine the terrestrial planets too.”

“Sorry, guys,” Ramses said through comms. “Off the mark again.”

“No, I’m curious about this place,” Mateo insisted. “Do we know anyone who lives here? I know Team Keshida moved on, as did the Ansutahan refugees, or rather, their descendants, but maybe someone else set up shop since we were last here?”

“Oh, I don’t have any more information than you,” Leona answered. “There’s a chance that we know someone, but very few entities live here permanently. Most aren’t allowed to, so it would just be the few who manage the allocation of resources, and enforce the stay laws.”

“Stay laws,” Marie repeated. “I like that term.”

“We got company,” Franka said through Ramses’ comms disc. He was the only one who returned to Spiral Station. The rest of the team was just floating around nearby, enjoying the view of the red dwarf.

Leona activated her maneuvering thrusters and turned around to see a big, dark spaceship on close approach. “Yeah, we see. Probably Gatewooders, trying to figure out where you came from.”

“Yep, that’s what they said,” Ramses confirmed.

“Please teleport back here,” Franka added. “They’re going to sweep the station, and if they don’t find you now, but see you later, they’re gonna think we’re smugglers.”

They all jumped back. “What do smugglers smuggle these days? Whisky?”

“Resource credits,” Franka answered as they were waiting to be boarded. “There are all sorts of criteria that determine what Gatewood gives you for your colonization efforts. Stealing credits gets you the best ores, and more of it, for higher luxury, if that’s your thing. If you have enough, you might even be able to buy antimatter...” She trailed off.

A man had suddenly appeared in front of them. “Ain’t nobody getting antimatter out here.” He pulled off his balaclava. “Fusion for all, but there’s a refinery 42 light years from here called Rasalhague, if that’s what you’re looking for instead.”

“We’re square,” Franka said to him. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before, and I’m familiar with just about every choosing one in the timeline.”

The man winced.

“He’s not a chooser,” Leona determined. “He’s a product of The Edge. He uses tech to teleport.”

“How else would you do it?” the guy asked.

“Are there a lot of teleporters like you?” Mateo pressed.

“This isn’t about me,” the man contended. He bobbled his head, weighing his options. “But I will answer your question, Gatewood is vast, and some people here don’t like each other, so we distribute them widely. To keep our contingency at low numbers, we were given a special command ship that can teleport somehow. That way, we don’t have to keep one at every single dock to supervise the pioneers effectively. A few of us can teleport as individuals. I earned that right.”

“We’re not arguing with you,” Leona promised him. “Just curious. I’m one of the people who gave you that technology.” She jerked her head towards Ramses. “He’s on the council too.”

The man stared at her, shocked by this news, but also recognizing that she could simply be lying. “Prove it.”

Leona receded her nanites until she was completely naked. Then she simply teleported to the other side of the room. Other members of Team Matic did the same a few times each, though not naked, because it really didn’t add anything.

He stared at her again, but with more shocked belief than skepticism this time. “The New Gods,” he uttered breathlessly, dropping into a kneel and bow.

“This is what we were afraid of,” Leona said with a heavy sigh, “but I had to test it, because I needed to know. There were two ends of the spectrum. We could hoard the time tech forever, or give it all away freely, with no conditions. We chose something in the middle, of course, because we’re rational human beings, but...every iteration came with risk. This is one of the consequences, which I have sheltered myself from for over a century now since I was so busy with other things.”

“Can we...stop him from worshiping you?” Mateo asked her.

She laughed. “People have been worshiping gods for millennia. They literally fought wars over it. I can tell him I’m not a god, but if he wants to believe, he’ll believe.”

“Then let’s take advantage of it,” Franka suggested. She placed herself between Leona and the man, who immediately stood up, because he didn’t know if he should revere her too. She wasn’t one of the ones who exhibited teleportation abilities just now. “You came. You swept. You found nothing. You left.”

He looked over Franka’s shoulder, at Leona, who was afraid to encourage his devotion, but she knew that she really didn’t have any choice anymore. She just shut her eyes and nodded. He lifted his wrist to his lips. “Fall back. This vessel has full access to our resources. Anywhere they want to go, let them go there. Anything they want to take, let them have it. Disconnect once everyone is out of the umbilicus. I’ll jump back to the bridge before you’re out of range.”

“Thank you,” Franka said to him.

“I would do anything for you.” He didn’t say it to Franka, though, but to Leona.

“What you can do is use the tech wisely; not to hurt people.”

“Always,” he agreed.

“Thank you. You can go now,” Leona all but ordered. Once he was gone, she physically turned Franka around by the shoulders. “I don’t care if we end up lost in M87, or NGC 253.” She also looked over at Ramses. “Get this thing out of this star system, and you will never come back for the rest of time, or so help me God, you will wish I wasn’t your mother in any reality. Do you understand me?”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who would abuse this kind of power?” Franka asked.

“You absolutely do look like that,” Leona said bluntly.

“She stared at her once-mother for a moment, not breaking eye contact, even when she spoke to Ramses. “Spool it up Rambo. I guess we’re leaving.”

Ramses did what he could to fix the quintessence drive before joining the rest of his team at the lower tip of the station. Franka asked to handle programming the sling herself. She just sounded bitter and annoyed at the time, but it turned out to be something else. During the interim year, she had programmed the repairs to make it more modular, so sections could be separated from each other. She released the section the team was on, and teleported the rest of the station away. Before they could track where it had gone, they saw a burst of technicolors in the distance, and realized that she had indeed slung away to parts unknown.

“Oh, crap!” Ramses cried. “She still has my forge core!” Since he kept losing access to his labs, he kept having to rebuild them from scratch. The forge core made it easier to do this. He always kept it somewhere in normal 3D space. The data drive module stored the specifications necessary to rebuild anything and everything from scratch, and an AI to process it all. It also came with starter nanites, and some other bells and whistles. He left it in the timestream so it could fix Spiral Station up while he couldn’t even be around to answer Franka’s questions.

“Is it unlocked?” Leona asked.

“Yes, it’s unlocked. I thought we could trust them.”

Angela looked over her shoulder. “I guess we’re going to land on one of those planets after all, huh?”

“No,” Leona reasoned. “We’ll go to the intake station, or whatever they call it these days. We couldn’t have been cast away somewhere better. We need resources.”

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Microstory 2573: Successful Panacea Test Subject

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This is a happy story, so don’t worry about it. Unlike most of the test subjects that my former company used to see if the panacea could cure a host of diseases all at once, I was a part of the system the whole time. I’m one of the researchers, and I volunteered myself for the experiment, because I was finally one hundred percent confident in its effectiveness. I helped develop it, so I watched the predictive estimate numbers go up and up and up. That doesn’t mean they were low before. I mean, we weren’t testing on live specimens when the model only showed 10% confidence. By the time I strapped into the chair, we were at 96%. I all but demanded that we do it outside the presence of Mr. Tipton, but they wouldn’t allow it, and I get it. Science isn’t always careful, but people should be. I didn’t need him, though. They injected me with a number of pathogens, which immediately started trying to destroy me. Then they gave me the cure. It worked nearly instantaneously. I felt better, I could breathe again, and my energy was restored. I even felt better than I ever had before. I admit, part of the reason I asked to do it was because I also wanted the money. If the panacea fails, but the subject lives, they get the money. If it fails, and the subject dies, their family is given the money instead. That only happened once, but we obviously don’t like to talk about it. If the procedure succeeds, in addition to the cure itself, you also get three million dollars. I left the program after that, because, well...I had three million dollars, so I’m not sure how many tests they ran afterwards, but I’m guessing they spent a couple hundred million dollars on successes alone. We didn’t have many failures, though, because we were so cautious. I loved my job, but I could see the writing on the wall. It wasn’t going to last forever, so I might as well cash out, and set myself up to be successful in a world that might not have such a great economy anymore. I don’t know if the panacea is going to cause the collapse of civilization, but I know that I’ll be all right either way. I’m buying gold, I’m buying land, I’m buying food. I never thought of myself as a survivalist, but it would be pretty foolish not to. I just wish I could have snagged a few boxes of the prototype cure to keep for myself in case it all does hit the fan. Nah, that would have been too selfish anyway. I’m sure it will all be fine. Let us rejoice! The first lot of the cure ships out next week. Thank you, Landis Tipton, for everything you’ve done for us. You’re done now. You can rest. And hey, if you like underground bunkers and MREs, maybe look me up. You don’t need all those consorts any more.

Microstory 2567: Congressperson

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I am a United States Congressperson in Missouri’s fifth district, so I serve my country very close to Landis Tipton’s operation on the Kansas side. I was always skeptical as I have seen a lot of charlatans in my day. A not insignificant part of my job is finding constituents in need amidst a cacophony of people who are, quite frankly, not mentally well, or actively trying to waste my time. Still, I was civil about it, and cautiously optimistic, and I let him prove himself. But I didn’t just let him run wild. I asked questions, and I got more information. I did my due diligence. Now that he’s proven himself, we face a new threat. Just because he’s the real deal, doesn’t mean he can’t cause problems. In fact, I’ve seen the numbers, and he absolutely will. Or I should say, the Foundation will. I don’t want to put this whole thing on one person’s shoulders, because if he really were that much of a danger to us on his own, he would probably be a criminal. As far as I know, no one there has committed any crimes, but they don’t see the detriment that they will do. I’ll be blunt. The panacea will tank the economy. I don’t want to stop it, but I’ve been fighting to slow it down so we can get ahead of this thing. People have been so anxious for its release, and believe that it’s taking too long, but based on projected announcement dates, everything is happening far too fast. We might never recover from the devastation if this thing goes to market, free or otherwise. Again, I don’t want to halt development, but we need time to create programs which will protect U.S. citizens, and everyone else in the world, from the fallout. My concern is with my nation, and particularly, my district, but this will have worldwide repercussions, so even if I did manage to prepare my community for the changes, I can’t help the world alone. I need people on my side. I need people who understand my position, and will do what they can to contribute to the cause. I know that no one is trying to cause such harm on purpose. They all have good intentions, which is very noble of them, but they’re only worrying about their one little niche, and thinking that the changes will only have an effect on that. But it’s connected. It’s all connected. Everything we do in the modern day is a result of a million plus decisions that billions of people are making now, and made in the past. You have to look at the big picture. As I said, I can’t do this alone, so please, if you can do anything to support this cause, every dollar counts, and ever voice matters. Thank you.

Microstory 2564: Protester

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This is ridiculous. I can’t believe how small our movement is. It’s growing, but not nearly fast enough. Landis Tipton is not all that he’s made out to be. Sure, curing all disease sounds great, but there are major issues with it that not everyone can see. First of all, we have no idea what long-term health consequences there are from being healed. He could be giving everyone cancer. Cancer is when your cells multiply out of control, and even if you claim that he has control over the repairs while he’s breathing on them, what happens five years later, or ten, or thirty? We don’t know. They haven’t done nearly enough studies on the subject. He just bought a freaking hotel, and people just flocked there like he was a god. Some people actually believe he is a god, which is another issue, though we don’t argue that in our literature, or during our demonstrations, because it’s a sensitive subject. What’s not sensitive, and what every single person needs to understand, is that so much of our economy is centered around health and wellness. I know it sounds cold, but disease and deaths are necessities in life. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Medical professionals, food vendors, funeral homes, insurance companies, nutritionists and dieticians, fitness trainers, pharmaceutical companies. Hell, even personal injury law firms. There are so many others. They all rely on a world that isn’t perfect, and they do not exist in a vacuum. When you take all those things down, what happens to everything else? It doesn’t work. It falls apart. Again, I may sound callous to you, but you have to think about the ramifications of your actions. Landis, and this goddamn panacea they’re trying to make, is going to do more harm than good, and I firmly believe that. Now, if we had a universal basic income, and if we had more robust automation, I might think it’s okay. But we are woefully unprepared for what’s to come. We are not ready for the paradigm shifting changes that this drug will make. We’re holding it at bay, because Landis Tipton is only one man so his impact on these sectors is minimal. But if that’s about to change, we are royally, totally, and fundamentally screwed. I don’t think you can imagine what’s going to happen to the world. No one’s gonna be able to afford the panacea when they lose their jobs. “Oh, we’ll make it free.” I’ve heard no confirmation on that, and it introduces a plethora of other issues. It will be a logistical nightmare. This has to be stopped right now. We cannot let it move on. We can let Landis do his thing, but his work schedule has to be severely shrunk, and research on this miracle cure has to end immediately! People think I’m crazy, and an asshole, but honestly—and I don’t really like to say this—but I’m smarter than you. I’m telling you, bad things are going to come of this. It will not lead us to the paradise you’ve been sold. Sell it back, it’s not worth it. Please. Please!

Microstory 2554: Janitor

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This is the best job I’ve ever had, which may sound crazy when you look at my job title, and you learn that it’s the first time I’ve ever been a janitor. I actually know a little bit about the way it works now, thanks to the Foundation. Let me start at the beginning. I’m not some hot shot career-driven professional. Like I said, I’ve never cleaned before, but I’ve never exactly been the CEO either. I’ve always worked other menial jobs, and in fact had a self-imposed rule that I wouldn’t ever make cleaning my primary responsibility. This was just an offer that I couldn’t pass up. First of all, I don’t work for the Foundation, I’m on contract, and the way the contract is written, my employer is not allowed to pay me any less than $25.00 an hour. If you do the math, that is an insane amount for a janitor. No one else is making that much. I told my cousin about it, who lived thousands of miles away at the time, and he just had to get in on it too, so he moved his family out here. First of all, that’s crazy, right? Who moves for a janitorial position? He didn’t even apply for the job first. He thought that admitting he would have to relocate would hurt his chances, so he packed up right away, and just went for it. Sure, they lived with me for a few months, but then they were able to move out to their own place, so it went all right. Here’s his theory on why the Foundation dictates that we’re supposed to be making that much. They’re trying to fix the world, right? I mean, not just for people with disease. They wanna make the whole planet a better place to live in. What’s the point of being healthy if we’re all miserable for other reasons? That’s why they pay people to get cured. It sounds like another insane proposition, but it works, because it’s a charitable organization, and they see the payments as an opportunity to expand on what they do. It’s not just a random additional feature. By demanding that my employers pay me a lot of money, they’re raising the bar. First of all, they’re saying, “we’ll contract with you, but only if you pay the worker you assign to us a lot of money.” But this is also like saying to the whole world, “look, see? It’s possible to pay people more.” And workers will say, “hey, I deserve more money too.” And then hopefully we all start getting more. I don’t really have the knowledge on how to find market trends, or whatever, but I bet it’s helping. I bet they’ve changed the economy in greater ways. I bet my salary has made a positive difference in other people’s lives; people I will never meet, or even hear of. It’s not the most glamorous job, and I still don’t love it, but it puts food on the table, and better food than we’ve ever had before, so I’m not complainin’.

Microstory 2503: Sibling of the Savior

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My brother, the hero. Yeah, it’s petty, but I can’t help but be annoyed by this. Obviously I love my brother, and obviously he’s doing good work, and obviously I shouldn’t be jealous. It’s hard, ya know, to live in the guy’s shadow. I’m older than him, and I’ve always been good at what I do. It’s not that I’m immediately great at everything I try. Well, it is, but not how you think. I’m good at everything I try, because I only try things that I know I’m gonna be good at. That’s my real skill, knowing myself so well. I can picture it in my mind, and if I imagine how it’s going to turn out, and if it’s no good, I simply won’t go down that road. I didn’t love growing up being more successful than my brother. I wanted him to succeed. I just didn’t know what it would look like once he finally did. People—total strangers—stop me on the street now. They all ask the same questions, about how I must be so proud, and also whether I have any magical powers too. No. No, I don’t. It’s not hereditary. He received them as gifts from other people. I’m not downplaying how important he’s become, but come on, I had nothing to do with it. Whoever these people were, they didn’t come to me. Why not? Well, we don’t have the whole story, but they didn’t seek Landis out either. He happened to be in the right place at the right time. It easily could have been anyone else who lived or worked in that area. I’m complaining a lot, I get it, it’s just annoying because I feel like I’ve addressed this in interviews, yet instead of actually doing their own research—which would take all of five minutes—they ask me again and again. And the jokes, oh the jokes. I’ve heard them all, and everyone thinks they’re so clever, like they’re the first to come up with them. Give me a break. I had a chance to live at the hotel with Landis. He wants me to. Our parents have their own suite. I just don’t want to be involved in all that. I’m sure they could use someone with my technical skills, but I’m happy where I’m working. They need me there. In fact, we still don’t know what this fabled panacea is going to do to the global economy yet. People like me need to stay where they are to keep the lights on once we conquer death, and people stop spending their money. Do you have any idea how much we spend on health? It drives the whole world, because the death rate has been at a steady 100% throughout all of human history. If the day comes that that changes, no one at that hotel is gonna be able to save you, or will even want to try. You’re gonna need people like me out here. Who will be your hero then? No, I shouldn’t end this on such a negative note. The truth is, that we have a decent relationship. I was always in his corner, and he in mine. We loved playing together as children, back when there was no pressure on either of us. It’s only when we grew up that things really started to get hard. I started feeling the need to be the best of the best, and he started getting discouraged when one little thing didn’t work out. I don’t regret anything, though, because we’re both happy now.

Microstory 2472: Anadome

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Let’s talk about the Amish and the Mennonite communities. First, actually, let’s discuss what they’re not. They are not people who simply reject all forms of technology. After all, the plow is technology. It’s millennia old, but its novelty was never the concern. The only concern that these Anabaptists have is whether something supports their community, or harms it. Does it please God, or does it pull you away from Him? Vehicles, for instance, are not the issue. It’s whether that vehicle will be used to take a driver away from their family and community. If it’s being used to transport their wares to buyers, they’ve never had a problem with it, but that is why they held onto the horse and buggy for so long, because it would have been an impractical form of escape. Their way of life has changed over time, but their goals and principles have not. Work within the community, serve God. It’s a pretty simple concept. While religion has all but died out in the galaxy, the Anabaptists have persisted, and that’s because their beliefs inform their practices to a degree that other religions and sects could never have hoped to replicate. Sure, if you were Catholic, you went to service once or twice a week, and you performed your rituals. And maybe every night you prayed over your bed. That’s all well and good, but you didn’t live Catholicism. You just did things here and there, and while your convictions could inform your behavior in general, they couldn’t necessarily survive across the generations, because children come up with their own relationship to God. That was usually encouraged, but it was also the source of religion’s ultimate fading from the world, because people focused less and less on it, and it became less vital to how they lived their lives, and the choices that they made.

Anabaptists were always different, because God lives at the core of their ideals, and their daily patterns. In the past, the Anabaptists were able to maintain their practices by having a symbiotic relationship with society in general. They sold us their goods, and used our payment to support their communities. Centuries ago, however, currency disappeared from modern society, as we transitioned to a post-scarcity economy. A new relationship was developed to prevent the Anabaptists from going extinct. Instead of selling what they make to us, they barter it. In return, we give them whatever they require to survive, be it medicine, protection, transportation, etc. We don’t ask for a certain amount of goods in order for them to get a certain amount of return. It’s not simply symbolic—their customers benefit from the human touch and the craftsmanship, which is hard to find these days—but it’s not perfectly ratioed either. We take care of them regardless of the price. If one community gives us ten chairs one month, but can only make five chairs the next, we still give them whatever they need. That’s not us being generous. That’s how we operate internally anyway. We don’t ask a whole lot out of our citizens, so why would we ask anything out of these fine folk? Over a century ago, some of the Anabaptists decided that they wanted to found a new community on Castlebourne. They wanted to start from scratch. Till new lands. So Castlebourne made room for them. You can’t visit Anadome, and gawk at them. I’m here as an anthropologist, to educate you on what this community is all about. Click below for my full report.

Microstory 2469: Gambledome

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Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Here’s the thing about gambling in a post-scarcity society...it’s not any fun! When money isn’t real, the stakes aren’t real, and there’s nothing interesting about it. The creators of Gambledome have managed to subvert this about as well as possible without completely shifting the paradigm of the economy. In Gambledome, money kind of is real, but only here. You start out with a modest amount of cash to spend on chips, and as you play, you win and lose those chips. If your stack starts piling up, you can cash them out, and spend it on things. You can get yourself a nice, luxurious room to stay in. You can spring for the (faux) lobster at dinner. You can give it away to your friends to make them like you. This is how it worked in other gambling communities on Earth back in the before-fore times, like Las Vegas. Here, it’s a recreation, which may make you think that your life can only get better, but that’s not true. If you run into the negative, you’re in trouble. You can’t leave the dome, and go back to the utopia that vonearthans have created since automation made fiat-based economies obsolete. You have to stick around, and pay off your debts. That’s right, there are real consequences. Some of the humans walking around as staff may be there because that is the experience that they have asked to be assigned while staying in the dome, but some are there because they have to be. Don’t come here if you don’t genuinely want to pretend to be an ancient human, because that’s the thing about gambling. You don’t know if you’re gonna win, and people lose all the time. A note on cheating: while they won’t torture you, it can land you in jail, where you’ll pay off your social debt by being locked up in a cell, unable to leave. We still have jails in the 27th century, of course, but the percentage of incarcerated individuals has never been lower, so this is rare. One woman lost her money on purpose, threw a tantrum, and tried to steal it all back, specifically so they would throw her in a cell, because it just doesn’t happen all that often anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to break any real laws. She didn’t want to go through the real justice system, and go to a real jail, where she might never get out. Overall, this place is a lot of fun, but only temporarily. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life here, and I certainly wouldn’t want to live in a world where people are sincerely desperate enough to gamble because they think they have no other choice. I don’t know if Gambledome is fostering any real addicts, but I sure would be interested to know if it’s happening, and if it is, whether the creators have any plans to do anything about it.

Microstory 2448: Chinadome

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Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

China is one the largest, and most populated, nations on Earth. Historically, it has been a technological powerhouse, and a major player on the global economic stage. It’s so big that individuals emigrating out of China to other towns would often settle in such high numbers that they ended up transforming part of their city to a sector known as Chinatown. These were divisions of the established city in question—New York, San Francisco, Binondo—typically not in an official or legal capacity, but culturally relevant nonetheless. Since those of Chinese ancestry represent a large portion of people back on Earth, it stands to reason that a great deal of people who have chosen to travel to Castlebourne would be Chinese too. To be clear, you don’t have to have any Chinese heritage to come here. In reality, they encourage you to visit regardless of your family background or creed, and learn about Chinese history and culture. That’s the whole point of cultural domes. You can come here to see what it’s like, to engage in their events, or if you just feel comfortable in this environment. The dome holds all the same traditional observances here as they still do on Earth, such as Chinese New Year. It also recognizes the shift in sociopolitical practices that resulted from the adoption of more modern political ideas, particularly post-scarcity economic conventions. It’s a respectful blend of the historical China and the new China that most people living today are more familiar with. I agonized over how to phrase that, which is why, readers, this review is a bit later than usual. I think that’s the most P.C. way for me to say it. I’ll edit you according to your comments. But just this once. I recommend everyone on Castlebourne come for a visit. Even if you saw a Chinatown or two on Earth, there’s always something new to learn, and perspective to be gained.

Microstory 2427: Great Depression Dome

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Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3, with music by MusicFX text-to-audio AI software

Not everything on this planet has to be fun. Some of it should be a somber reflection of real life, and in this case, the inspiration is depressing. I don’t use that as a pun, but it’s a really good word to describe the nature of the source for the dome’s theme. The Great Depression was a period of worldwide economic turmoil that began in October of 1929, and continued on into the 1940s for some regions. It is defined by a global high of unemployment, institutional financial failure, and trade conflicts, among other things. I’m not here to give you a history lesson, though; that’s the dome’s job. This is a recreation of the conditions that a lot of people lived in during this time. There’s a swath of land representing the dust bowl, there’s a seemingly endless unemployment line, situated not too far from the soup kitchen line. They make excellent use of the entire area of the dome, exhibiting the various negative impacts of life on Earth in this time period. I’m glad that they put this dome here, because it happened 550 years ago. So many people alive today don’t even know what you’re talking about. There is so much to learn in your education that things fall through the cracks, and one of the biggest sacrifices we make is history. Science and math is always changing, and while it might be interesting to know how things used to be, it’s not vital. It’s more important to understand the present day concepts. History, on the other hand, never stops coming. Students today have more background to draw from than the students of yesterday, and the students of tomorrow will have even more. That is why it is so important to keep building places like this. People need to see how things were like in the past, especially in times before they were born. No one still alive right now was around to witness the Great Depression. The oldest in our population wasn’t even born yet, and that’s really sad. I don’t even know how many people can’t even grasp the very concept of a monetary-based economy. That’s where you have to start. You have to know what money is before you can comprehend what it meant to not have any of it. To not have everything you need just to survive as a living organism. Water, food, shelter. These are fundamental rights that we take for granted, but for most of human history, none of these things was guaranteed. The people who lived during the Depression understood that. I won’t lie to you, if you come here, you’re not going to “enjoy” it, but unless you’ve been studying this stuff in particular already, you are going to learn something. They do a really great job of framing the curriculum through the present-day lens, recognizing the shortcomings of conventional contemporary education, which again, must prioritize more “relevant” topics. I implore you to give it a try. Even though it’s not an adventure, and it may not be your cup of tea, it will be good for you. It would be good for everyone.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 16, 2398

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Finland. That’s where they want to go. Mateo doesn’t remember a whole lot from school, but he does recall a classmate of his once getting into an argument with their math teacher. The teacher claimed that the shortest distance between two points is a line, and she illustrated this using a geographical map. The student argued that it didn’t matter if the line was the shortest, because it wasn’t the fastest. Going that direction meant trudging through thick brush, and over a lake or two. It meant crossing straight through streets, and climbing over buildings. The fastest route was to get on the freeway, pass the destination just a little until the next exit, and cut through the city. The teacher insisted that this wasn’t what she was trying to teach, and he contended that she should be. Mateo recalls one quote quite clearly when his classmate said, “if what you teach us can’t be applied to the real world, then why are you trying to teach us anything at all?” He failed the assignment, and came this close to flunking out of the class.

To get back home, their shortest route would take them pretty much directly southward until hitting mainland Norway. There they could resupply, repair The Olimpia to its former glory, and contact their friends back in Kansas City with reliable cell service. They can’t do that, though, because in addition to it being the most direct route for them, it simultaneously creates the shortest distance between the island of Svalbard and the United States government, who they know they can’t trust. To protect Amir, and all the locals of Vertegen, they have to take the scenic route. Fortunately, they have a way to create a distraction in the form of Russia.

The Republican Federation of Russia bears an even more tumultuous history here than its counterpart in the main sequence. It has been on the sidelines of nearly every major world war since the first one. Funny enough, it doesn’t seem to experience much direct conflict with other states. It’s just been known to wait until the hostilities between two or more parties begin, and then choose a side. Some xenophobes might chalk this up to them making their choice randomly. A number of political cartoons, comedy sketches, and modern memes feature a blindfolded Russian leader throwing darts towards a map, or some variation therein. The reality is that Russia always chooses to back the belligerents whose victory would spell some kind of success for Russia. Russia chooses Russia is a slogan from a certain social awareness organization that is always trying to help people understand this.

The Russian government holds no convictions, and has no strong feelings about any specific faction. They are probably the least religious nation in the world—or maybe just when accounting for its sheer mass. The presidents have run their nation like a business, accepting benefits to their economy wherever they can find it, be it with a neighbor, a former enemy, or even a terrorist sect. At the moment, the United States is its biggest competitor, because while citizens of the U.S. would deny, deny, deny, their social practices are not without their similarities. They would never work with terrorists, but freedom fighters are just fine, and the difference between the two can often be found only in the nuance of personal perspective. So while Mateo labeled Russia the enemy, they are in fact more like a rival, and the Olimpia’s presence within their territory is no more dangerous than meeting an industry colleague for coffee in the cafeteria on the first floor of their office building.

Still, as stated, this is a distraction. If the team is spotted making their way through the White Sea, this will be all that Senator Honeycutt—and anyone else involved in all this—will focus on. They won’t even consider the possibility that they were once on Svalbard, or make any attempts to retrace their steps at all. It’s been a long journey, but thanks to Mateo’s new knife, not as long as it could have been. They’ve not had to stay on the surface of the water for the whole trip. Short bursts. They can stay in the air for a limited amount of time, which is what has allowed them to cross the distance as fast as they have so far, but they’re running out of power, and they need a new tactic. Leona may have come with the solution. “Well, if you have this thing, why can’t you just replace the solar panels altogether?” Solar power has been providing them enough energy to fly for a little bit, but they use that energy faster than it can come in, which is why they always have to drop back down to the water.

“I don’t know how to work this knife,” Mateo explains. I can’t get it to replace the entire panel. I can either replace part of the framing, or an individual...what did you call them?”

“Tiles,” Ramses helps. “Each time he stabs a panel, it only destroys that specific tile, and spits out a new one. I can’t figure out why efficiency is so low. It could be one or more of the tiles, but which ones?”

Leona takes the knife from Mateo, and examines it. Before anyone can stop her, she downs the rest of her water, sets the cub back on the counter, and tries to stab it. Nothing happens. “What did I do wrong?”

“You accidentally aren’t your husband, Mateo,” Angela says.

“What?”

“Only he can use it. We’ve both tried.”

“Well, I suppose I had to try too, given our connection, and the fact that some of that Existence water is still swimming through my veins.”

“Well, that was my favorite cup,” Angela laments.

“Then you shouldn’t have let me use it.”

Mateo chuckles once. He takes the knife back, and stabs the mangled cup himself, which generates a pristine replacement.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Leona shouts. “Okay, it makes a new one; it’s quantum duplication, whatever. But why does it make an unbroken one? It goes back in time to before it was damaged? How far back in time? How much damage does it correct? What if there was a dent in it that had been there for twenty years?”

“These are all questions that none of us can answer,” Ramses tells her.

“Did you try asking the Rakripa where they got it, and what they thought of it?”

“Yes,” Angela says, looking suddenly tired. “I asked them a lot of questions. Communication was difficult, and I eventually learned that it wasn’t only because our languages aren’t mutually intelligible. They were cagey. They were nice...but they didn’t want us to stick around. So we didn’t.”

Leona sighs. “Where is that lantern thing you were talking about?”

Ramses goes back down to engineering to retrieve it. “I’ve been all over this thing. I don’t think anything else needs to be replaced. What we need is power.”

“And I’m going to get it for you,” Leona says. She sets the lantern on the counter, and arranges her husband in front of it. She adjusts his arms and hands like a sexy golf instructor, or a pottery ghost. “Okay. Go for it.”

Microstory 1733: The ESS Dorado

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When the first of the asteroid miners went up into space, they were looking to make some money. There were tons of resources up there that they hoped would make them rich. It was probably about to, but it wasn’t long before the economy shifted, and no more value was placed in things that once meant everything. Yes, the metals and minerals they mined and processed from the asteroids were still incredibly important for the future of the human race, but everything they could exchange them for was now readily available, and distributed freely. That material was now only useful for making spaceships, and other vacuum structures. Trying to take it all the way down into Earth’s gravity well was a waste of time and energy. Still, their lives weren’t purposeless. Someone would have to build those ships, so it might as well be them. They still weren’t making any money, because it didn’t exist anymore, but people were grateful for their efforts, and the species was quickly becoming a multiplanetary culture. They kept working, kept looking for more, and were surprised about how much gold there was up there. Back in the ancient days, gold was the standard for monetary value. Everything was based upon its worth according to scarcity, measure of work needed to refine the raw material, and an arbitrary love of all that was shiny. Even after gold stopped being the official standard, people placed value on it simply because of how pretty it looked. To this day, it’s used in a number of technological instruments, but in relatively small amounts. As it turns out, the solar system is chock full of the stuff. Scarcity was a component of man’s inability to reach beyond the atmosphere at the time, and that is no longer the case. Still, what are they going to do with all this gold? Sure, some of it can go to those devices, but there will be a lot left over. This gave one of them a crazy idea.

They decided to build a ship. This ship would be composed almost entirely of gold. Propulsion, of course, and wiring systems, required specific materials in order to function, but the basic idea was that if it could exist in gold form, it was to be manufactured out of pure gold. It was the dumbest thing that anyone on Earth had ever heard of, but they too realized they had plenty of gold to satisfy their needs, and they recognized that the asteroid miners earned rightful control over everything they found that wasn’t claimed by someone else. It took them years to gather all the gold they would need, and refine it, but they were essentially immortal now, and most of the business was automated, so what did they care? It wasn’t until they were just about finished when they noticed that no one had thought about what they were going to actually do with the darn thing. Even with their indefinite lifespans, it wasn’t a good way to get to other planets in the solar system, or to other stars. It was more a piece of art; a think piece, a proof of concept...a proof of strength. They didn’t know if there were any aliens flying around out there, but they figured that their big gold ship would be a pretty good message to send anyone looking to see if the Earthans were weak enough to attack. If humans were advanced enough—and bored enough—to construct a literal golden ship, they were probably nothing anyone should want to trifle with. So they placed it in a permanent stable orbit around Earth, and named it The ESS Dorado. People came to visit occasionally, but it was mostly there to be marveled and appreciated from a distance. Aliens never came, and eventually they let it burn up in the atmosphere.

Microstory 1359: Flex

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TDS Management Representative: Hello, and welcome to TDS Management. I’ll be your TDS Rep today. Go ahead and have a seat. Did you happen to bring in an updated résumé?

Single Father: I do, right here. I have many copies, in case you wanna pass them out at your coffee shop.

TDS Rep: Haha, well, we don’t have to do that. I’m sure we’ll find you something good. Um, wow. This is a busy résumé. It looks like you have quite a bit of experience. Everything from gardening to middle management.

Single Father: Do I?

TDS Rep: Yes, when I see two-pagers, it’s usually because it’s filled with high school minimum wage jobs, but you have some real stuff on here.

Single Father: Yes, I moved around a lot in my younger years. I also just kept getting really good opportunities that I couldn’t pass up. I assure you that I’ve never been fired. All of these transitions were my idea.

TDS Rep: I would assume that. The gaps you have between positions aren’t large enough to suggest you were fired, and had no choice but to look for something else. Um, according to this, you’re still in a management position at a Magnate manufacturing facility. Are you not happy there?

Single Father: Oh, no. I fully intend to keep that job. It pays well, but maybe not quite well enough. I need a little bit extra now. I just adopted an older son. He has some special needs, and I’m not sure I can afford everything on my current salary alone.

TDS Rep: I see. Well, does your employer know you’re looking for a secondary job?

Single Father: They do not.

TDS Rep: Are they going to become more flexible on your hours, or...?

Single Father: No, everything about that job will stay the same. I just need a little more.

TDS Rep: If you take on another job, will you have time to care for your son? I only ask, because you specifically mentioned his special needs.

Single Father: It’s not going to be easy; I probably won’t get much sleep, but it’s gotta be done. I was hoping you could find me something with flexible hours, so I can decide when my son doesn’t need me. The job board listings aren’t that precise or detailed. I’ve been having to contact the employers directly, and ask them if they could theoretically accommodate me. You can imagine how awkward those conversations go.

TDS Rep: I don’t have to imagine. I’ve heard those conversations before. Look, flex-time is trending right now, but that still generally involves an individual only having the one job. Even grocery stores need you there at a certain time, and for a certain number of hours. You’re not going to find anything on the job boards, and I’m not going to fare any better.

Single Father: So, there’s nothing I can do?

TDS Rep: I didn’t say that. The gig economy is also trending. You could work for a ride-sourcing service, or a third-party delivery service. There are several apps you can download that let you just complete short tasks for people, like moving a TV, or waiting in line for a highly anticipated video game. Your résumé says that you have experience in graphic design. I’m sure there’s some kind of freelancing website that lets you advertise your skills. That would let you work from home, even when your son is there with you.

Single Father: These are all really good ideas.

TDS Rep: We can work together to develop a plan. That’s not what I generally do, obviously, but I don’t see any reason not to. If I had a full plate, I would have to turn you down, but I have some time right now.

Single Father: That would be lovely. Thank you.

Microstory 1357: Elevated

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High School Student: It’s very nice to meet you. My name is High School Student.

Elevator Supervisor: Nice to meet you too. I’m Elevator Supervisor. I wouldn’t normally entertain an interview from a high school student, but your brother speaks very highly of you, and thinks I should give you a chance. Just so you understand, there is a very slim chance that I’ll be able to hire you for this position, or any position. All of our work is full-time, and you’re still attending classes in high school, correct?

High School Student: I am, yes, but I’m very interested in working with you once I graduate. I only have one more year left, and then I’ll be able to commit more hours.

Elevator Supervisor: Why don’t you just focus on your studies, and wait until they’re over.

High School Student: I’m a very good student, I don’t have to try very hard, and I still get good grades. I don’t have to focus in order to pass my classes, and if this is what I want to do with my life, then I don’t see a problem with that.

Elevator Supervisor: If you’re such a good student, why don’t you go to college?

High School Student: My family can’t afford it.

Elevator Supervisor: I don’t claim to understand your family’s financial situation, but they do have loans, grants, scholarships. I went to college myself, and didn’t pay a dime until I was finished.

High School Student: I should rephrase that. My family can’t afford for me to remain outside of the workforce for the next five years. I need to get into it now.

Elevator Supervisor: Well, there are plenty of part-time jobs around here. You could work concessions at a movie theatre, or lifeguard in an indoor pool.

High School Student: That’s still a money thing. I don’t expect to be paid as much as an experienced elevator installer, but I can’t imagine starting salary is less than minimum wage.

Elevator Supervisor: Well, it’s not, but there’s a reason why there’s a difference between minimum wage part-time jobs, and full-time jobs, like this one. Those jobs require no experience, and hardly any skills. They let you make money for situations just like this, when the worker is still in school. I understand that it may not be enough, but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to more. If everyone who needed money was always just given that money, then would money even hold meaning?

High School Student: Actually, it would, yeah. Money is only as valuable as the economy determines. Traditionally, we’ve based that value on the labor that went into generating it, but that is not the only method. Universal Basic Income studies have proved that people still contribute to society, even when they’re handed money they didn’t do anything to earn. In fact, some data even suggests people in those studies are even more willing to be productive, because they’re not so stressed out about finances.

Elevator Supervisor: Well. This isn’t a universal basic income study. We would expect you to be at work every day, complete the jobs as requested, and earn your paycheck. Like I said, we currently have no part-time positions available. I would have to make an exception, and I’m not sure that’s fair to the rest of my workers.

High School Student: Why would it not be fair? I don’t wanna be rude, but I don’t understand the logic there. The people who work full-time for you, I imagine are not wishing they could work fewer hours if it meant they would make less money. Who among them would look at me and my exception as a goal they envy? Give me less than you do them per hour, and give me fewer hours. No one is going to covet my circumstances.

Elevator Supervisor: That is a good point. I just don’t want to set a precedent, and start encouraging other people to beg us for work. A part-time elevator installer can install fewer elevators per day, which means the rest of your team will have to pick up the slack once you leave, or before you get there, depending.

High School Student: That is a valid concern, and I have no argument against it. I certainly don’t want to make it harder for others.

Elevator Supervisor: [...]

High School Student: [...]

Elevator Supervisor: Here. I’ll give you the number for my parts supplier. They’re local, so you wouldn’t have to drive far. They don’t rely on a team structure either, so your logic behind an exception could work on them. They may even have part-time positions, I don’t really know. Don’t tell them this, but if you work for them for a year, and don’t cause any problems, I’ll consider adding you to my own roster once you’re completely available for it.

High School Student: Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to be so kind.

Microstory 1257: Thando Kovar

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Thando Kovar was one of the hardest working men on Durus. He didn’t much mind doing the dirty jobs that no one else wanted to do, and even though he was fairly intelligent, and pretty well-educated, those were the jobs he stuck to, just so no one else would have to do them. It wasn’t until he was older that he realized he was taking those unglamorous jobs from people who didn’t have any choice, but by then, it was too late. He kept his head down, and didn’t make trouble. People would have called him average if they even knew who you were talking about when you brought it up. Still, there was this side of them that craved adventure. He wasn’t constantly pining after a more interesting life, but he not infrequently wondered what it would be like to see other places, and try new things. He hadn’t even realized he wanted this until The Elizabeth Warren came to his planet, and gave him the chance to throw his hat in the ring. He applied for passenger status, but did nothing else to help his case. He didn’t make conversation with the crew, or attach a letter. He just quietly delivered the application, and walked away. It was his good track record that ultimately won him a spot on the ship, but as soon as he boarded, he knew he had to voice his concerns. He didn’t want to just sit around and wait until they arrived at their destination. He had been a worker his entire life, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself without it. His parents taught him the value of work, which was a lesson not so easily shaken. It wasn’t until he finally made it to Earth that he saw how fulfilling life could be when one’s days could be dedicated to hobbies, rather than tedious labor. While all the others were just hanging out in the pocket dimensions, Thando remained on the ship proper, and kept it clean and maintained. Sure, there were lots of automated systems to take care of that, but the captain turned some of these off, just to make him feel useful. He attempted to continue the way his life had always been upon reaching the homeworld, but that was a lot more difficult. Earth had transformed enormously since the first refugees were stranded on Durus. They had done away with work for the most part. People made themselves useful by creating new things, participating in socio-political debates, and preparing to colonize other planets. He wasn’t really qualified to do anything like that, so if he wanted to help, he would need a more relevant education. Before he got started on that, his case workers set him up with a new identity, and a new life, in what was formerly North America. They all but forced him to go on an extended vacation, so he could really think about whether he wanted to be part of the optional workforce, or if he just wanted to enjoy his life. After only a couple weeks of this, he decided on the latter, even though it was a choice he never could have fathomed making just a couple months ago. He forwent his education, and spent his days traveling the world. He didn’t much care for the virtual constructs that other people were visiting, but he saw a lot of fascinating things until he died of age-related causes many years later. He could have upgraded himself to live forever, but there was still a line he wouldn’t cross, and that was it.