Microstory 2502: Father of the Cure

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I’m going to be totally honest here, Landis and I have not always agreed. His mother always believed that he was gonna move on to do great things, but the kid was approaching his thirties, and he had nothing to show for it. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, and nothing he could have done would have been able to change my mind. I just remember wishing that he would have some kind of ambition. I wasn’t one of those fathers who had a plan for their kid, and they were going to follow it no matter what. I only had a few requirements. Number one, he had to learn a second language. Most of the world understands English, and I feel like the least we can do is meet them halfway. You can’t learn them all, but you can at least learn one. Well, he didn’t do it. He didn’t even try. He did the bare minimum in school, in his language classes, and everything else. He wasn’t an idiot, but he was a poor student, because he lacked motivation. I only got him into sports to teach him discipline, and perseverance. I didn’t care if he became obsessed with it, or even if he liked it. He could have switched to theatre or A/V Club, if that’s what struck his fancy. I chose baseball, because that’s what I was familiar with, but I made it clear that he had a choice. What he didn’t have a choice in was doing nothing. He couldn’t just coast through school, and work minimum wage for the rest of his life. I know, that might seem unrealistic. Someone is working minimum wage, that’s why it exists. I just wanted him to want more out of his life. Again, he didn’t have to do anything that I specifically chose for him, but he had to have at least some passion about it, even if that passion was for the money itself. He had to contribute positively to society, and if that meant sticking with that minimum wage job, well, I figured I could get over that. At least he was doing something. But he kept losing them, and having to find something new. Secretly, I think that he preferred it this way. He gets tired of things, you see. He doesn’t quit because he’s no good at it, but because he just doesn’t wanna do it anymore. It becomes tedious. I’m actually kind of surprised he came up with his foundation, because it’s the same thing; day-in, day-out. I can’t believe that he can take it, but I’m proud of him, and I’m happy for him. I never expected him to cure the entire world. I would have just been happy with him holding down a job for longer than six months. But he went for it. He really went for it. He exceeded all of my expectations, and I regret every doubt I ever had for him. That’s my kid, and I’m grateful for him.

Extremus: Year 105

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Today is the day. It might be the most publicized wedding in ship history. Why is it so popular? It seems that Waldemar and Audrey are somehow famous for being famous. A few people heard their story, and they told others, and the story spread. Even though the braintrust is aware that he is destined to become captain one day, to everyone else, there should be nothing interesting about this story. Yet here they are, waiting to get married to much fanfare. Audrey’s mother has been helping her get ready, as has Tinaya, since Audrey doesn’t have any friends besides little Silveon and her fiancé. She has a maid of honor, and bridesmaids, to be sure, but all at the insistence of Waldemar. He has chosen to perform a more traditional wedding. Audrey’s father will be giving her away like she’s a possession. The groom had a wild night with his buddies at a bachelor party. Again besides Silveon, all of these friends were fake, but they agreed to participate, because it sounded like fun, and he just has this magnetism. It’s part of why he ends up being the leader of the whole ship. He doesn’t take control using magical powers. He gets people on his side. He gets them to believe in him and his cause. This could be where all that begins.

“Thanks, mom. Could you go get me something blue?”

Her mother looks over at Tinaya, realizing that she’s being shooed out for a private conversation, but not wanting the day to devolve into a fight. “Yes, dear.”

Audrey picks up her long, flowing dress with her forearms so she can sit down on the ottoman.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m gonna throw up. Everyone’s gonna be watching.”

“That was the point, wasn’t it?”

“Should it be? We’re the ones who are putting the spotlight on him, and I find that sickening. We came here to stop him from being a ruthless tyrant, and we think that involves still helping him gain power, but we don’t know that. Should we be pushing him down into obscurity instead?”

Tinaya sits down next to Audrey, partially on her dress. She breathes in deeply, and makes it seem like she’s about to say something profound. “It’s too late. I don’t know if this is the right path, but you’re here now, and you’re in a better position than ever to control the narrative. If you had discouraged from pursuing notoriety, he would have caught on eventually, and resented you for it. He would have severed his connections to you and Silveon, and that could have been...permanent, if you know what I mean.”

Audrey nods. “He wants me to be a tradwife. He doesn’t want my input.”

“Then don’t give it to him. Make him feel like every idea you have is his.”

“He had a kitchen built in our new unit. No dayfruit, no synthesizers; not even as backup. I am to cook for him every day, the way they used to, where you buy the ingredients, and put them all together in a recipe.”

“How are you going to buy anything? Where are these ingredients coming from?” Tinaya asks.

“He also built a store. He doesn’t want me to be the only tradwife, and he’s not the only one who wants that.”

“He’s starting a movement,” Tinaya says, nodding her head. “Do you remember this, from the other timeline?”

Audrey takes a beat, then slowly shakes her head. “No. I mean, I think he treated his first wife like this, but I don’t think he convinced others to do the same. We did this. We made things worse.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Tinaya contends. She stands to pace. “If he keeps his definition of a wife a secret, he’s free to act on his principles in secret. But by trying to get others to walk backwards with him, he invites scrutiny.” She shines her flashlight on the wedding poster on the wall. “Our spotlight will show the people the truth. We don’t have to build a resistance ourselves if people become disgusted with him on their own.”

“It’s his growing group of sycophants that worries me,” Audrey clarifies.

Tinaya opens her mouth to respond when she thinks better of it. They could go on and on forever, gaming out strategies, and trying to rig the system, but that’s not what today’s about. What Audrey needs right now is to pretend that she’s happy, or even find a way to not have to pretend anymore. “Well. Don’t let it worry you today. You look very beautiful, and your confidence needs to reflect that you belong here, like this. You’re going to brighten your eyes, go out there, and put on the performance of two lifetimes.”

Audrey takes a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” She stands back up, and approaches the mirror, letting Tinaya stand behind her. She stares into the glass, contorting her lips, trying to form them into a smile.

“No, it’s not your lips that’s the problem. It’s your eyes. That’s where your real smile is. If you can make your eyes sing loud and proud, the corners of your lips will reach up to meet. There. Close, you’re really close. Oh, not so wide. You’re not in a dark room, trying to gather as much light as possible. Oh no, you went way too far the other way. Now you look mad.”

“I’m just trying to reset. Maybe tell me a joke?”

“Did somebody say mad ma?” The two of them turn around to find Waldemar’s mother, Calla. She looks surprisingly...sober. She’s gently shutting the door behind her. She glides over to them.

“We don’t think you’re mad,” Tinaya replies. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, honey, there’s no trouble,” Calla insists. “This is a great day.” She looks over at Audrey. “Finally, someone will be responsible for taking care of Waldy for me.”

“Mrs. Kristiansen—” Audrey starts to say.

Calla holds up a silencing hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I don’t know why you’re marrying my son, and frankly, I don’t wanna know. But you’re not as good of an actor as you think, and on this—on this one day—I’m afraid that won’t do.” She pulls a tiny silver tin from her purse, holds it in the palm of her hand, and carefully opens the lid. Inside of the tin is what looks like granulated sugar, but the granules are pretty large, and yellow tinted. “This...is madma.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Audrey admits.

“The name is ironic. It will make you feel serene and loving. You won’t be faking a smile; you’ll be genuinely happy. Not about my son, of course, but no one has to know that.”

“It’s drugs? You’re trying to give my daughter drugs?” That was a huge slip. “I mean, my son’s friend.”

“I assure you, it’s legit. I take it all the time. I prefer it now to alcohol. Just stick it under your tongue, and let it be absorbed into your bloodstream.”

“Thistle?” Tinaya prompts.

“I cannot condone the use of recreational drugs,” Thistle begins, “but objectively, I can confirm that that is indeed methylenedioxymethamphetamine, also known as MDMA, molly, or since the 22nd century, madma.”

“What are the side effects?” Tinaya presses.

Thistle drops a hologram down, listing all the negative effects of the drug, mostly framing them as problems that arise after repeated use.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Audrey decides. “It’s just one day.”

“I’m sure a lot of drug addicts throughout history have shared your sentiment,” Tinaya warns.

“Drugs were phased out at the same time that money was,” Audrey reasons, reaching into Calla’s hand, and taking the tin. “My problems are so much worse than money.” She licked her finger, picked up the granules, then stuck her finger in her mouth, moving it around for a more even distribution.

“It’ll only be a few minutes.” Calla takes the tin back, and begins to leave. “Merry Christmas.”

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Calla,” Tinaya calls up to her.

Calla stops, and looks back. “I won’t live long enough to care.”

Just after Calla leaves, Audrey’s mother returns. “What did that woman have to say?” She doesn’t like her either. Calla isn’t as good at hiding her true feelings as Waldemar, so she pretty much rubs everyone the wrong way.

“Aud was nervous about her relationship with her mother-in-law, but Calla came by to build bridges, and assure her that she’s happy that your families are coming together.”

“That doesn’t sound like her,” Mrs. Husk argues.

“I think she meant it.” Tinaya cannot disclose that she let her daughter take drugs, so this is a good enough lie. Had the mothers not seen each other in the hallway, Tinaya wouldn’t have said anything about Calla’s brief visit at all.

“Are you feeling better now?” Mrs. Husk asks Audrey.

Either Audrey is still faking it, or the drug’s effects are beginning to hit. “I’m so happy, mother.”

Mrs. Husk smiles tightly and nods. “Your father’s waiting in the corridor. It’s time.”

Tinaya excuses herself and leaves first. She joins her own husband and son in the front row of the groom’s side. “Who is that?” she whispers to Arqut. Why isn’t Jennings the officiant?”

“That man is a priest,” Arqut whispers back. “Or a reverend, or whatever. Waldemar asked him to take seminary classes from the archives. He’s been working on this for, like, three years.”

“And the captain’s okay with that?” Tinaya questions.

“Religion isn’t illegal, it just doesn’t exist anymore, except on days like this, which we know to be Christmas Eve. The charter technically allows for religious leaders to officiate weddings as well. The only requirement was that at least one person getting married be a member of the church,” Arqut explains with airquotes. It’s as real as they want it to be. It’s a special denomination of Christianity that only has two members.”

“Is he expecting Audrey to convert?”

Silveon leans in. “It’s just for show. Waldemar doesn’t believe in the hocus pocus either. He just wants this all to be very backwards. And he wants it to be special. No one else is getting married like this. Look at this place; it’s made of wood. I didn’t realize they had cut down enough trees on Verdemus to build an entire fake chapel out of wood.”

Arqut looks uncomfortable. “The wood isn’t from Verdemus.”

Tinaya’s rage bubbles up in her chest, threatening to spill out all over Waldemar’s asshole face. How dare he? She digs her fingernails into the seat of the pew, trying desperately to keep her cool. “This is not what the Attic Forest is for. Who the hell approved this?” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Arqut turn his head to the other side of the aisle. She turns the same direction, quickly making eye contact with Oceanus.

I’m sorry, Oceanus mouths to her.

Tinaya isn’t wearing her wristband or her wristwatch. Instead, she has a holographic projector hidden in a dress-appropriate bracelet that she’s wearing. She takes Arqut’s hand and flattens it out so she has something to project the image onto. She taps on the images of the keys on her husband’s palm to write up a text message to Oceanus that reads, you will be.

Arqut reaches down with his free hand, and wipes the text away. “You are not...sending that to the captain.”

Tinaya gives Arqut the stink eye while she’s reaching over to arrange her son’s hand the same way. She projects her screen over there instead, retypes the message, glances at it to check for spelling errors, then seethes at Arqut again while sending it off.

Arqut looks back at the altar, and shakes his head. “You’re going to regret that.”

“You’re going to sleep on the couch.”

The ceremony begins, interrupting any further fighting between the two of them. Waldemar waits up at the front as Audrey walks down the aisle with her father. She looks gorgeous and ecstatic, but Tinaya can’t tell if anyone else can tell that she’s high. She’ll have to remember to ask Arqut whether he picked up on it, and to make sure that Silveon isn’t in the room when she does, because he would not approve. The ceremony is long and boring. Tinaya doesn’t remember what she learned in school about old Earth traditions, but it seems about right. All the inequality, all the possessiveness; it’s here. Audrey couldn’t be more pleased. She’s very smiley; showing all of her teeth. The drugs are definitely working.

After the wedding is the reception, and after that, the crowd cheers as the happy couple go off to their VR honeymoon. Obviously, no one is there to see what it’s like, but Thistle reveals that it’s a simulation of a beach resort on an island. Pretty typical. While they’re doing that, Waldemar’s mother kills herself in her unit. Despite not being in any real position of power yet, Waldemar uses his burgeoning influence to cover it up.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 26, 2508

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Romana was sitting on the floor, hovering over her father, when he woke up. He turned over to the side, and started to cough. The others were waking up at the same time, recovering in their own ways. Fortunately, no one was dead, not even Octavia. A robot was lifting her up, though, and carrying her away. “She’ll be all right,” Romana assured him. “There’s a medpod in that room.”

“You’ve been alone all year again?” Mateo asked her.

“I did it on purpose,” Romana explained. “Why would we waste time looking for this man one year at a time, when I could spend days and days on the search?”

“Did it work?” Mateo asked.

“It did,” she answered with a sigh. “He doesn’t wanna leave, so I’m hoping you’ll talk some sense into him. But...I don’t wanna lie to you. Something happened. I’m not especially proud of it, but even though I was pretending to be a sixteen-year-old in Underberg, I’m actually much older than that. I don’t know why Pacey aged me down, but you need to understand that I’m an adult, and I make my own choices.”

“You slept with him...” Mateo guessed. “With Buddy.”

“He’s very kind to me.”

“I bet he is.”

“That’s not fair. I just told you, I’m an adult. He didn’t trick me. Don’t take away my agency.”

“I’m not, but Romana, he’s not a good guy. Being nice to you doesn’t absolve him of his past sins.”

“And what sins are these?” Romana questioned. “How many people has he killed?”

“That’s not the point.”

How many have you killed?”

Mateo didn’t respond to this.

Romana went on, “you two don’t see eye to eye, and I know he hasn’t been particularly pleasant to be around, but if you add up all the bad things he’s done, they’re really not all that bad. In the end, you two are enemies because you don’t get along. I’m sure before you became a time traveler, you interacted with plenty of people like that, and it didn’t make you believe that they didn’t deserve love.”

“Is that true?” Mateo sat up. “Are you in love?”

“No, of course not. I’m just saying...”

“That you’re acting like a rebellious teen,” Mateo interrupted as if that was what she was gonna say. “Are you sure you’re older than sixteen?”

“You are not my father. You didn’t raise me. Silenus did.”

“That’s comforting.”

She ignored that rude comment. “You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life. You never have. I know it’s not your fault that you weren’t around, but you can’t honestly expect me to listen to everything you say as if you have some kind of control over my choices. I’m being honest with you, because I don’t want to lie to someone I respect and care about. But don’t you sit there and belittle me as if I’m nothing more than an extension of your own personality. I will take you to Boyd, but you are not to harm him. You are not even allowed to yell at him. I am insisting on that, and I will keep us on this rock forever if you defy me in this regard.”

“That’s enough!” Leona interjected. “You don’t talk to your father like that. I don’t care how old you are, or who raised you. Boyd probably has ten years on you, and that’s assuming he hasn’t used time magicks to reyoungify himself, or he could be much older.”

“You were fifteen when you met your now-husband!” Romana shouted back.

“And he didn’t have any feelings for me until much later. Don’t turn this around on us. Boyd—if that’s what we’re calling him—is not good for you, full stop. When we first encountered him, he insisted that we call him Buddha. That’s incredibly offensive, and tells you everything you need to know about him. Just because he may not be as bad as some of the other antagonists we’ve met, like Zeferino, Arcadia, or even Pacey, doesn’t mean you made the right choice.”

“You’re friends with Arcadia now. You made friends with nearly everyone you’ve gone up against. What are we even talking about here? All I’m asking is that you give him a chance to improve himself, and prove himself; not just give up on him outright. Forgiveness doesn’t have a quota!”

“All right!” Olimpia interjects this time. “Mateo, Leona, you’re not going to attack Boyd when we find him. Romana, you may be older than you look, but you have a long ways to go. This situation is incredibly weird, what with our experiences in Underberg, and other domes. We can’t trust our own memories. Some of them are entirely fake, and their associated feelings may be a little less genuine than they seem. So I think we all need to take a beat, and focus on what matters. We are not living in a soap opera. We’re dealing with real problems here, trying to escape some weird, alternate universe. We can’t do that until we get what we came here for. The interpersonal relationship drama can wait.”

Mateo, Leona, and Romana quietly conceded. Ramses, Angela, and Marie silently agreed, having successfully stayed out of the fight.

“Okay,” Olimpia continued, proud of herself, and relieved that her argument worked. “It won’t take long for Octavia to recover. In the meantime, where is Boyd? Did he get hurt in the explosion?”

“He’s fine, he wasn’t even here,” Romana answered. “He’s in the Fostean sector at this point, living on a simulated jarl world.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Mateo said.

“Single-occupancy planet,” Leona explained. “A one-percenter in that culture will have so much money that they can afford to own an entire celestial body. They will live there alone, or with their family, supported by a small army of slaves called Arkeizen. These supposed subhumans will be known as thralls so long as they are in service to the elite. It’s not a heartwarming story.”

“Why would he be there?”

“To be clear, the thralls aren’t real slaves,” Romana said. “As I said, which you obviously already know, it’s a simulation, so they’re just robots.”

“It’s still gross,” Olimpia said to her. “I gotta admit, that’s a point against him.”

Romana smirked. “Just wait until you see it, okay?”

“Fine,” Leona decided. “Let’s take a vactrain this time. I don’t want this happening again, so we’ll stay out of canon as much as possible.”

“It’s not gonna happen again,” Romana contended. “Like the flooding of Atlantis, the destruction of this planet was canonical. It happened during the Sixth Shell.”

“Either way, let’s keep it real.” Leona led the way down the corridor.

Octavia was stepping out of the medical bay. She had missed a lot, and didn’t know where they were going, but she followed them anyway.

They got on the train, and had it deliver them to Jarldome. There were 200 levels here, most of which were 200 meters high, but with the holographic skies above each one, they felt endless. Boyd was on the topmost level, with a bunch of slaves. The team expected to find him lounging on a mountain of pillows, being fawned over and doted upon by these Arkeizen. It didn’t seem to be that way. The robots made to look like a hominid cousin were milling about an impressive little town. When they walked through, the Arkeizen smiled and waved. They didn’t look oppressed or abused. They were working, however, so no valid conclusion. On the far end of the main street, they finally found Boyd. A group of people were evidently in the middle of building a house, and he was helping. He was physically helping carry a wooden beam, and set it in place.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there. How long have you been watching us?”

“We just arrived,” Romana answered him.

“Well, welcome to Citrus City!” Boyd said. “Would you like the tour?”

“We’d like to get out of here,” Mateo responded.

Boyd frowned. “There’s so much work to do.”

“None of this is real,” Ramses told him. “It’s a simulation. You know that, right?”

“Of course I am,” Boyd said dismissively. “You think it’s that easy to erase my memories?”

“Either you’re delusional,” Mateo began. Romana gave him the stink eye, so he switched tactics. “I mean, if that’s true, then were you aware of our true histories while you were living in Underberg?”

“I guess not. But I broke out of it. I’m fine. I’m happy, living here, teaching these people how to fend for themselves.”

“They’re robots,” Ramses added.

“Shh!” Boyd whispered loudly. “They don’t know that.”

Mateo sighed angrily, and looked over at his daughter. “You did this. You told him to put on this show to make it look like he was freeing a whole peoples. You think that’s gonna work? You think I’m gonna start liking him now?”

“Sir,” Boyd jumped in. “Romana came to me two weeks ago. I’ve been working on this town for months. This isn’t just for show. I know that I have made mistakes in the past, but I don’t agree with slavery. Jesus. That’s the point of this dome, you know? It’s a test; will a visitor let their thralls do what they’ve been indoctrinated to do, or make changes that go against the history of the Fostean culture from the fictional stories? That’s the question, will you play into it, or do the right thing, even when it doesn’t matter? Because like you said, they’re robots.”

Mateo crossed his arms disapprovingly, but didn’t have anything more to say.

Leona pulled the magical technicolored crystal from her bag, and presented it to Boyd. She jerked it away when he reached for it. “This will place you on our pattern. Truthfully, Pacey did not reveal whether it was permanent or not. I believe that you will have less of a chance to get into trouble if you only exist for one day out of the year, though, so I’m hoping that you take the risk. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for us to get back to where we belong, but I don’t want you running around on your own anymore.” She glanced over at Romana. “I certainly don’t want you to be doing that with my daughter. Frolicking on the jarl worlds, freeing slaves together.” She grimaced, and looked over at the Walton twins. She wasn’t trying to say that freeing slaves was bad. “You know what I mean.” She went on, “touching this crystal will go a long way to earning our trust, but it’s not a cure-all. And either way, it has to be your choice.”

Without hesitation, Boyd took hold of the crystal. The colors swirled around inside, presumably transferring Leona’s pattern into his qualium realm. “Thank you for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

Suddenly, they heard a noise in the sky. A flying craft of some kind was headed right for them, so far up in the air that it couldn’t be real. The holographic image grew larger and larger though until it was as large as it would be if it were right above the invisible ceiling. Something changed as the hologram gave way to a tangible object, presumably having been dropped down through a recess. This real, physical shuttle continued to fly towards them until it landed right in the street. A bunch of humans with guns filed out of it.

The leader of the newcomers looked around at the Arkeizen. It was unclear whether he could tell that they were free, and no longer enslaved thralls. He zeroed in on Boyd. “Sir, are you okay? Our sensors picked up unauthorized entry to your planet.”

“They’re friends,” Boyd said. “We need no help here.”

The leader stepped closer so he could lower his voice. “Listen, if you need help, you don’t have to be afraid of them anymore.”

“I’m not being coerced,” Boyd tried to say. “Everything’s fine. You can go.”

The leader nodded. He walked past Boyd, and as he was adjusting his pants, got a better look at the community. He turned back around to address Boyd again. “How are your thralls doin’? You’ve been here a while. Do you need a top-up?” A top-up of slaves?

“No. My numbers are steady.”

The guy was surprised. “Not one death?”

Boyd shook his head.

“Interesting. “Very interesting. Say, you wouldn’t be...treating them like people, would you?”

“And if I were, is that against the law?”

The man shrugged. “No, of course not. They’re your thralls, you can do whatever you want to them. It’s just a little unusual. I’d hate to think that they were influencing your behavior in some way. You know, we get a bad batch sometimes. One of them is sick in the head—starts thinkin’ that he’s special, or valuable—and that can infect the whole group. And sometimes...their owner gets infected too.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Marie said. “Suits on!”

Mateo took Octavia in a hug again, and commanded his nanites to wrap themselves around her. Angela and Marie, meanwhile, started taking out their anger for their father out on these robo-slavers. They stole their guns from them, and shot each in the head. The slavers shot back, careful not to hit Boyd, but not caring about anyone else’s life. The Arkeizen ran and hid behind various structures while Leona, Ramses, Olimpia, and Romana protected the stragglers. It was over quickly. All of the bad robots were dead and on the ground.

“What happens when we leave?” Leona asked after the dust had settled, and the suits were no longer necessary. “Is another shuttle gonna be triggered later to come down and try to put a stop to all this antislavery wokeness?”

Boyd chuckled. “This isn’t my first single-occupancy planet. They always show up as a sort of final test, to see how you’ll react. I’ve always just talked my way out of it, but I guess this works too.”

“Great,” Leona decided. “Then pack up your shit. It’s time to go.”

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Microstory 2423: Oz

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

The Sixth Key: Rock Up (Part VI)

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Cedar Duvall, leader of the Sixth Key, stands on the bridge, watching as the seams to the time bubble that has been slowing their progress down start to rip apart, and finally release them. They expected to break free from its tyranny eventually, but the calculations the scientists made placed that estimation much later than now. “Steady, boys. I fear we have been freed intentionally by whatever intelligence is down there. We still don’t know if they’re friendly.”

“There’s no planet here anymore. It’s just a small patch of land. Should I prep an away team?” the Captain of the Starship of State offers. Any vessel that The Sixth Key is on is the Starship of State, but this is the ship that is typically used for this purpose, so the two of them have a nice rapport. She knows that Cedar isn’t going to say yes. He is the away team. He’s reckless like that.

“No, Cap’n. Teleport me down alone. Keep the whole crew on PrepCon Three.”

“Aye, sir. Teleporting you now.”

Cedar appears on the grassy hill. A bunch of people are sitting around. Two others appear to be dead, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone. “My name is Cedar Duvall, Sixth Key of the Sixth Key! Report!”

“I’m confused,” a woman says.

“About what? The re part, or the port part?”

“Ha-ha-ha. The Sixth Key of the Sixth Key, I don’t know what that means.”

Cedar is taken aback. He hasn’t spoken to anyone who doesn’t know who he is in decades. “I am the Sixth Key, because I created the Sixth Key universe. Me and five other keys.”

“Oh,” the woman says. She’s holding back further laughter. “Right. My name is Hogarth Pudeyonavic.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of you. I know all the salmon and choosing ones. And the other...extra people.”

“Of course, sir. You’ve taken a leadership role since all these people left?”

These people? Cedar starts studying people’s faces, instead of just treating them as background actors. She’s right. Some of these are the former leaders of the original five realities. Not all of them, though. They disappeared, and he did indeed have to step up. They needed a singular voice, and they needed someone whose loyalties did not lie in one past civilization or another. “I have. Is that going to be a problem?”

“What year is it now?” Ingrid Alvarado of the Fifth Division asks.

“It’s 2500. At least, it should be. We were stuck in a time bubble on the way here, so who knows?”

“That was probably his doing,” Hogarth says, gesturing towards the dead man.

“Is that why you killed him?”

“He’s not dead, he’s asleep.”

Cedar cocks his head to the side, and eyes the supposedly sleeping man. “There’s something happening to his face.”

Hogarth looks down at him too. She takes a pair of goggles out of her pocket, and presses them against her eyes without bothering to strap them onto her head. “He’s de-aging. Interesting.”

“How do we stop it?” Cedar asks. “Cosette DuFour,” he says to another woman. “You can do that, can’t you?”

“Not to other people,” Cosette answers. “I can only adjust my own age.”

“Pity.”

“This is what he wanted,” Hogarth tries to explain. “He’s...resetting his brain back to factory settings. At least that’s how I’m interpreting his words. He didn’t allot any time to talk about it. He just collapsed, and fell asleep.”

“I think she’s de-aging too,” a guy calls up after examining the dead-not-dead woman. Who is he again? He ran the main sequence. Some kind of General.

“So, they’re gonna be all right?” Cedar asks.

Hogarth shrugs. “Dunno. We’re waiting to see.” She jerks her chin towards the sleeping woman. “She wasn’t a good person.” She jerks her chin towards the sleeping man. “He’s trying to fix her. Too early to tell whether it worked or not.”

Cedar takes his water disc out of his suit. He flicks it in the air, but it doesn’t open, so he flicks it several more times until it does. He presses the button, and summons the interdimensional water. “Well...” He takes a drink. “There’s something weird about this void.” He takes another sip. “Ahhh. I mean, besides the fact that there’s no black hole in it, which I’m told is unusual. It’s been drawing power lately.” Some of the water has gone down the wrong pipe, so he coughs it out. “It’s been stealing from us. We came here to plug the leak.”

Hogarth glances down at the sleeping man now, who looks a lot younger than he did when Cedar first showed up. “Well, that would probably kill them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too.” Cedar vigorously shakes the back of his head. “Thing is, I still gotta plug the leak. The galaxy runs on temporal energy.”

“Every universe runs on temporal energy,” Hogarth says. “That’s what time is.”

“I have no doubt that that’s true, but I don’t care about the other universes. I care about mine.”

“You’re the confused one now,” Hogarth says, taking a step forward. “This universe is mine. You may have made your little pocket universe, but I made the full-sized one that it’s inside of. You’re here because I say you can be here, and technically speaking, all of the energy that you have is sourced from me.”

He studies her face. “You’ve been gone as well. We’ve been holding diplomatic discussions with one Ellie Underhill, and her cohort. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? She lives in Fort Underhill.”

Hogarth cracks a smile. “That I named it after her does not diminish my own power. You still need to respect me. The Third Rail spent billions of years without excess temporal energy. They lived off the time that was naturally available to them. You will be fine with a little bit of rationing while we figure out who these two are when they wake up...what they are.”

“The Third Rail was one planet in its original reality. We number in the trillions of habitats. We need the excess.”

“And you’ll have it,” Hogarth reiterated, “when these two are done doing whatever it is they’re doing.”

They look like children now. How long is this gonna go on? “Which will be when? When they each turn back into an unfertilized egg and a sperm?”

“It’s called a spermatozoon,” one of the people Cedar doesn’t recognize corrects. “What? I’m a biologist, I have to know these things.”

“I thought you were a princess,” the Nuadu-something guy from the Parallel says.

“We don’t know,” Hogarth jumps back in before the conversation can be moved too far off topic. “I expect that they’ll stop de-aging at some point. I’m sure that this was all part of his plan, and I’m choosing to accept that. Why? Because he may be the single-most powerful being in both of our universes. Let’s not piss him off, shall we?”

Cedar clears his throat, and coughs again. He smashes his cup back down to disc form, and slips it in its pocket. “Can’t argue with that logic. Wadya all eat around here?”

“We just got here,” Hogarth answers. “We don’t know what’s edible.”

No one ends up eating anything. They’re too nervous to find out what’s going to happen when the child-gods wake up. They’re both eight years old or so when the de-aging process ceases. They stay asleep after that, though, continuing to work through their apparent metamorphoses. While they’re waiting, they catch Cedar up on who and what the sleepers are, to the extent of their knowledge. In turn, he catches them up on the goingson of the Sixth Key, and all the history they missed while they were gone. They’ve maintained the imaginary wall that is holding back the Reality Wars, but it is a constant threat to the peace that their new civilization is enjoying. That’s why Echo and Clavia are such a concern. Energy is still the number one commodity in the galaxy, so they can’t afford to waste one ounce of it. These two god-beings could be the key to maintaining the peace forever, or they could be the instruments of its destruction following total domination. It all depends on what happens when they come to.

About an hour passes before they begin to stir. Clavia wakes up first, dazed and confused. “Mommy?” she asks. She thinks she has a mother. Who is she talking about, though? “Mom, where are you?” She’s looking around and blinking a lot.

“Umm...I’m right here.” Hogarth carefully approaches her.

“You’re not my mommy,” Clavia argues.

“No, but I care about you, and I’m here to care for you.” Nice save.

Clavia is very pouty. She continues to blink as she tries to wake up fully. She looks around again, and stops when she sees the second-in-command for the Sixth Key version of main sequence Earth. “Mom! There you are!”

Judy Schmidt widens her eyes. “Uh, me?”

“Yeah, silly!” Clavia laughs joyously.

“Right, okay. Um. Come here...honey.”

Clavia hops over, and tackles Judy with a big hug.

Judy mouths what the fuh to everyone else, but no one has any answers. This little magic girl has imprinted on her, for whatever reason, and there’s probably no going back on that. Kids don’t just switch parents on a whim. It’s her job to raise her now. So she better figure it out.

“Group hug!” Echo comes running up the hill. He hugs Judy and Clavia. “Come on, daddy!” He beckons Judy’s superior, General Bariq Medley.

“Oh, um.” Bariq leans over to hug them too, but not very tightly.

“Okay,” Judy says, gently separating them all. “Why don’t you go play with your aunt...Princess Honeypea, so your mommy and daddy can talk to their friends.

“Okay!” the kids say in unison. Good, they do see Honeypea as a member of the family. Out of everyone here, she’s probably the best with kids.

“What the hell is happening?” Bariq questions Hogarth.

“Everyone seems to think that I’m some sort of expert in all this, but I don’t know what’s going on. I came here because this is where the trail led after the magnolia tree was destroyed. But here’s all I know. Two extremely powerful individuals were just regressed to childhood, and now they think you two are their parents. I don’t know if they have false memories of you, or if it’s just an intuition they have, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. You have to be there for them. No one can replace you. Think about how you were when you were their age. Would you have accepted just being moved to someone else’s care?”

“No one suggested that,” Judy defends.

“You were thinking it.” Cedar steps forward, injecting himself into the conversation. “I would be.”

Bariq looks over his shoulders. Princess Honeypea is teaching the kids pattycake. “I want a seat at the table.”

“What?” Cedar asks.

“You rule the galaxy now. I wanna be a part of that.”

“I don’t know that there’s any reason—”

“Hey, Clavia and Echo!” Bariq calls over. “Who’s this guy?”

They both just shrug their shoulders.

“They don’t know you. You wanna have any say what they do with their power? You wanna make sure the people of the Sixth Key have what they need? You better cozy up to their parents.”

“Bariq, we can’t just exploit them like that,” Judy warns. “They’re children.”

“No, they’re not,” Bariq argues. He turns back to Cedar. “What’ll it be? The woman’s name literally means key. That’s a strong symbol, but they don’t answer to you. They answer to the two of us.”

“They’ll answer to me better,” Judy reasons. “Children always love their mommies more. Especially when their daddies are dicks.”

Bariq chuckles. “I’ll dote on them. But I can’t do that from the sidelines.”

“Yes, you can,” Judy insists.

“Okay,” Cedar says. “You come with me, bringing the temporal energy gods, and I’ll find you a place in government. High up. People will know you, respect you. They remember you. I didn’t erase the past, though I literally could have.”

“They’ll be well taken care of,” Bariq tries to explain to Judy when she shakes her head at this devil’s deal. “No one’s exploiting anyone. It will be years before they’ll be mature enough to make their own serious decisions, and it’s better for them if they’re close with the leader of all of reality. If you don’t want this to go badly, then be their mother. You have that instinct. That’s why the tree chose you to be my second at the Rock Meetings. You weren’t my lieutenant before this. I would have chosen someone else to stand by my side.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen a military leader to be the main representative,” Judy reminds him. “I would have chosen Earth’s Mediator.”

“Yeah. We’ve been over that,” Bariq acknowledges.

“Okay, but I’m the head parent,” she says with airquotes. “I decide what’s best for them, even if that comes to mean leaving the Capital, or wherever you operate out of,” she says to Cedar.

“Sure,” Cedar agrees.

“Them too.” Bariq points at everyone else in this little bubble. “Give them what they want.”

“We want a garden,” a woman says.

“I got lots of gardens,” Cedar replies.

“A big one,” she clarifies.

Cedar nods his head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

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Microstory 2399: Vacuus, May 18, 2183

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Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

Dear Pascal,

This is the best news ever. Are you ready for this? Get excited. You’re never gonna guess. If you’ll recall, last year, you sent me a message, informing me that your son, my brother, was found missing two years prior, and ultimately declared dead. Well, I’m happy to contradict that in the strongest way possible. Condor is one hundred percent alive. He’s here. That’s why he was missing. This guy got on a spaceship, and flew 1200 astronomical units into the black to intercept Vacuus in its lonely deep space orbit. If you want proof, attached is a little video of us at our real joint birthday party last night. It was such a surprise. We caught wind that a new ship of migrants were coming to live here, and help us grow, but we never dreamed that Condor might have been one of them. It was actually his idea, but I’ll let him tell you.

Hi dad, it’s your boy, Condor. I’m sorry I left you. I was planning the trip out here for quite a while. In fact, I first thought of it the day Corinthia’s message came through. I started doing calculations to determine how long it would take, and what the flight would be like. I did research on my own, and I reached out to other people. There was a ton of interest in certain circles to come here. It’s not the most habitable place in the universe, but nowhere is by Earth’s standards when man first crawled out of the mud. I didn’t know if I was going to be successful, but I knew I had to try, and the more letters I got from Corinthia, the more I wanted it. Most of the people I came here with are still in orbit, awaiting the Vacuans to expand their base to accommodate them, but they let me drop down in an escape pod alone, because I initiated and organized the whole thing. I’m so thankful for the chance to spend my birthday with my twin sister for the first time ever. We ate homegrown root vegetables! Now for the serious stuff. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I probably should have, but you always felt terrible about keeping this all a secret, and that only got more intense after the letters started. It had to be a surprise for Corinthia, and I knew that you would spill the beans by the time I made it. It took our ship three and a half years to get here. That is a markèd improvement over the eighteen years it took Corinthia and her mother, Alizée, but I was pretty sure the Valkyries would fly away early enough for you to tell Corinthia the truth. I know what your next question will be. Why didn’t I try to bring you with me? I did try. There was a hard age limit. I was almost too old to qualify. The cutoff was 40, and there are only a few of us around that age. Most of the passengers are in their 20s. But I knew you would be okay. What I didn’t know was that I would be declared missing, and presumed dead. This was all done through the Earth Restoration Project. I thought we were all on the same page, but we got our wires, and someone apparently didn’t know what the cover story was. So I’m really sorry about that, but I’m fine, and I look forward to your response.

With all my love,

Your son, Condor, and your daughter, Corintha

PS: This is Velia! I’m here too!

Microstory 2391: Earth, December 20, 2179

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Dear Velia,

You only sent a list of eight movies, and I wanted to get through every single one, which is why my reply is a little late, but attached, you’ll find my thoughts on each of them. If it’s going to be a shared experience, then let’s share it. I don’t have all the time in the world, so to speak, but I’m not constantly bogged down by my responsibilities. In fact, I quit my job just today. I’m still working there, since it’s customary to give two weeks notice before you stop going into work. I just had to stop tying my identity to my father’s. I love the guy, but I’ve lived my whole life in his shadow. I moved when he moved, I say the kinds of things that he would say. He didn’t do that on purpose, and when I told him my plans to leave, he was one hundred percent supportive. He still sees me as his little baby boy sometimes, but he recognizes that I am well into adulthood, and I can make my own decisions now. They may be bad decisions—you may even call them mistakes—but it’s time that I fly the nest, and find my own way. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with myself now, but I think I’m gonna go back on land. I’ve saved up enough resource vouchers to keep myself going at least for a few months without having any official work. The dome where we brought in all those immigrants isn’t the only settlement there is on the Australian continent. Some aren’t doing so great right now, and they’re always looking for good hard-working people to help them repair their infrastructure. The platform is about to leave and head back towards the Atlantic Ocean, so now is my chance to get off. Don’t worry, though. Unlike on the ocean, there are towers that people use to stay connected. I won’t be out of communications range, and will pretty much always be able to link up to the server to check my messages, and send replies. I might have a harder time accessing entertainment, like those movies we both watched, but we’ll worry about that later. I’m more anxious about the Valkyries. My scientist friends really think that it’s going to happen any day now. The next time we speak, I may be in a very different living situation than I am now. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now, especially since hearing from Corinthia for the first time gave me some much-needed perspective. I didn’t quite decide until yesterday, though, which is why you’re hearing about it before she does. You can tell her if you want, or I will. I appreciate the little video clip of your introduction. You’ve sent me some nice photos before, so in return here’s one of me to remember me by.

Still under your spell,

Condor

Microstory 2388: Vacuus, December 11, 2179

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Dear Condor,

Don’t think I don’t remember what you told me the last time you sent a message to just me. I was going to address it right away, because that’s huge news, but then the Valkyries came, and Velia wanted to send a joint letter, and then you sent a joint letter back, and I’m also trying to keep up with our Winfield Files Book and TV Show Club in case the long-cycle interrupts us for years, and my mind has been so preoccupied with so many other things. Okay. So. Your nurse. Madalena. You hypothesized that she may have been tied to the twin study, but you didn’t seem all that convinced about it. It sounded like you maybe just thought that it was a possibility, which it always was. It’s crazy that you turned out to be right. I’m glad to know a little more, but I’m worried about you. That must have been a hard conversation to have. I watched the recording of the video chat that you sent, and your voice started getting a little trembly when it became apparent to you how involved she was with the whole secret program. Maybe you were just a bit cold, or needed some water, and if you tell me that something like that is the explanation, I’ll believe you. I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I don’t want to put any dark ideas in your head, but I can imagine that it felt like a violation, her taking care of you with ulterior motives. I hope she was telling the truth that she never made you sick, and was genuinely treating you for the regretful condition you were born with. It shows that she wasn’t a total monster. A true scientific observer wouldn’t allow themselves to interfere. To answer your question, Elek Katona is Velia’s father. She and I became friends because he was friends with my mother. He wasn’t even on my list of suspects, not because I didn’t think he would ever be that kind of person, but because he’s not a medical professional of any kind. He’s responsible for breeding and raising the insects that we brought with us as a protein source. I guess that’s just his cover? Sort of weird. I don’t know why an entomologist would be recruited for a human experiment, but maybe he has a secret educational background as well? I’ve not had the courage to confront him about it. I’ve not even told Velia, which I think I should do first. If it ruins my relationship with that family, I don’t want her to be blindsided. But obviously I’m very nervous. I don’t know how it’s gonna go, and he may not be the only one here. I’m already paranoid about who I’ve known all my life who might have been studying me and my behavior. Knowing about one of them has actually made it worse, because that sounds more like a conspiracy. You were able to move away from your nurse and neighbor. Whoever it turned out to be on my end, they were bound to still be here. But I’ll figure it out. I’ll build the willpower to pursue, and maybe get us a few more answers.

Thanks for lookin’ out,

Corinthia

PS: I support you and Velia, and whatever choices you make when it comes to your bond. I won’t stand in your way.

Microstory 2386: Earth, December 4, 2179

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Dear Corinthia and Velia,

Thank you for your letter. I will be continuing to write to both of you individually until a bunch of Valkyrie assholes show up, and tell me that I can’t anymore. My dad, Pascal is standing over my shoulder, reading—and approving of—every word. He sends his love to you, Corinthia, and wishes that we all had more time together. We understand that the meteors are out of everyone’s control, but that it is not going to last forever. We will reconnect one day, even if it takes years, and while we’re waiting, we’ll be thinking of you. Velia, by the time you receive this message, Corinthia should have received mine from last month during the communications blackout. It was waiting to be sent in the buffer, but I received confirmation that it was finally released shortly thereafter, so I don’t think that there were any issues. Let me know if it never came through, though, and I will send again. I said some things which I want to make sure that she hears, and I would love it if you two talked about it openly. But basically what I said was that I care about you, and I want to get to know you better. While we’ll never meet in person—and we may soon be separated by time as well as space—I think our correspondences will be worth it. Please understand, however, that as Corinthia said, you deserve happiness. If you meet someone else, don’t hesitate. I agonized over even saying anything about this, because I don’t want to root for us to fail, but it’s probably best that you know that I’m going to be okay too. I’m not saying that I’ve found someone special, or anything, but I do get to know people around here. As a story from the Earth of old goes, our hearts will dance together to the far end of eternity. Anyway, we don’t have to get into our full romantic histories, especially not in a joint letter like this, but it’s important for us to be open and honest with each other. Can’t wait to hear from you two again!

Grateful for the opportunity in the first place,

Condor and Pascal

PS: Velia, you should be getting a new letter from me as early as tomorrow.