Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Friday, June 19, 2026

Microstory 2695: Isavet Arrives, Talus Survives

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Ronan is a fool. He failed to recognize the mechanics of the simulation. It’s true, a robo-goat can’t likely eat grass and convert it into milk. That level of glandular engineering veers too far into the territory of true organic life. If the Custodians of this dome are trying to keep everything vegan, it’s a line that they would not cross. But that doesn’t mean it’s a loophole he can exploit. The sim expects the goat to eat grass, and it expects the mama goat to give its kids milk. If that process is halted, you have cheated, and the Custodians put a stop to it. So he changes tactics. He lives as he’s meant to live. He lost sight of the whole reason they came here in the first place, but he won’t make that mistake again. He needs to make sure that Talus survives, but he won’t do that by breaking the rules. That’s not what Mayumi would want, nor Talus himself. When he’s old enough, and his brain starts to rewire itself to remember all the things that Talus did as a full grown man, he will appreciate Ronan’s dedication.
It’s been another several weeks now, and things have only grown harder. Talus is having trouble with the goat milk. It’s not really what he’s supposed to drink, but it’s all they have available. His body needs more. And then she walks in. Gia. She shows up out of the blue holding her own baby, tears in her eyes, asking for a place to rest for the night, and maybe a little food. Ronan is suspicious. It honestly looks like a gift. The Custodians would be able to see how much he’s struggling, so they’re helping him out. How can he trust this person who shows up right when he is at his lowest, carrying the very thing he needs to keep his best friend and child alive in her body? It is too convenient. She has to be a plant. She might not even be an organic human. She might be just like the goats. He has to know the truth, so he simply asks her. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about this, but are you an NPC?”
She switches her baby to her other arm. “Why would I be an NPC?”
“I just have to ask, I’m sorry. I’m seeing the seams in the simulation, and it’s messing with my head. The goats. The goats aren’t—”
“I know what the goats are,” Gia interrupts. “I read up on the laws and ethics of this planet when I came here. They don’t have to follow Earthan laws, but that doesn’t mean they don’t. I assure you, I’m real, and I need help.”
Ronan has just finished building an addition to their home. He was pretty early in the process when Mayumi was still alive. He stopped needing it after she died, but he kept working anyway because when he commits to something, he commits. “We have the space, but I would kindly ask you for something in return.”
She frowns. “You’ll forgive me, sir, but my body is mine.”
“I respect that, but my son has no mother, and he’s been missing nutrients...”
“Oh. Oh, you need milk? Milk, I have aplenty. My breasts, they overproduce. I did not know what I was asking for when I filled out the request for a pregnant-capable substrate. What’s your baby’s name? This is Isavet. As you said, we should not talk about this, but the father quit. He didn’t even know I was pregnant, and I don’t want to break character to send him a message.”
“Same thing happened to me,” Ronan replies, “though she didn’t quit by choice.”
“Oh.”
“But it’s okay. We’ll see each other again one day. Come on inside.”
She goes inside. They stay there together for years, ultimately falling in love.

Thursday, June 18, 2026

Microstory 2694: Little Cheater

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Ronan is distraught and overwhelmed. He has two kids to take care of now, and he’s all alone. Vith is old enough to help, but not old enough to be a true partner. He’s not breaking character. He’s supposed to be a child, so that’s how he’s acting. Ronan commends him for the commitment, and appreciates it. That’s what he would do in his situation. That is what he’s doing, in his own way. Mayumi was supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to die. She certainly wasn’t supposed to die after less than a year. But that’s how real life works, so she has stayed away in order for the simulation to feel more real. That’s what they agreed to do, and she’s not a liar.
They actually talked about it at length. They made a pact before all of this that if one of them died, the other would continue on in the simulation. It was only a hypothetical at that point, but he wants to honor her by following through with it. It’s probably why she never came back. It would not make sense for him to leave, and have her be upset that he broke her trust. They have been together for centuries. A few decades will be hard, but in the real world, there’s no escape. If someone you love dies, you either end your own life, or try to move on. Suicide is not an honorable death, and would harm her memory. It wasn’t worth it. They would see each other again.
Hopefully she was having fun in their second choice dome. Dome for Pioneers doesn’t have the same cultural adventure that they were looking forward to, and it didn’t sound like it would be quite as immersive, but they thought about visiting. They considered going there first to dip their toes in the water, so to speak. In the end, they decided to jump into the deep end head first, and this is what it has cost them. Ronan is struggling to feed his boys. His only saving grace is that a few months ago, they found two baby goats, and had the good sense to keep them both alive, even though it meant taking food out of their own mouths. Now, though, the mama goat has kids, and the daddy has become worth more dead. They needed her milk, and his horn and meat.
He slaughtered the father earlier, and cut off its horn. Then he stole some milk away from the kids, and filled the horn so he could use it to feed his human baby. Once little Talus was happy for the next hour, he went to work on preparing the goat meat. He was going to cook some of it, then smoke the rest so they could save it for later. This was always part of the plan. They had hoped to wait until they could have at least one more litter to keep the bloodline going, but that is tomorrow’s problem. He slices into the animal, and hits something hard. It doesn’t feel like bone. It clinks like metal. He pulls the flesh apart, and is horrified at what he finds.
“What is that?” Vith asks.
“That, son, is a robo-goat. I was not aware.” Ronan looks up and breathes. “I suppose some of the laws here do resemble what they have in the Core. They don’t kill to eat anymore. This is all part of the simulation.” He looks outside. “Those kid goats are never gonna grow. They never have grown since they were born. They are simply being systematically replaced every once in a while. Which means...” He trails off.
“What does it mean, father?” Vith presses.
“The milk has to be resupplied at some point. It certainly doesn’t get it from the vegetation we feed it. We can keep all the food for ourselves, instead of giving it to the goats. All of the milk can go to Talus.” Is that cheating?
It apparently is cheating. It doesn’t work. They run out of milk.

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Microstory 2692: Little Orphan, Vith

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Ronan and Mayumi, along with the rest of the players who came up with them, start taking stock of their supplies. It isn’t much, but the fruit could float, so that’s great. It is under someone else’s control, though. Most everyone has something which they are still holding onto for dear life, even though the storm is over, and they are out of the water. The two of them have the door. It’s large and heavy; not something that belongs on a ship. Ronan’s best guess is that someone somewhere on Danmörk commissioned it from some other region, and had it shipped there. If the players were supposedly on that ship, it would have likely been carrying other supplies that didn’t belong to them. They didn’t really know the story, though. The Custodians didn’t tell them that that would happen at all. And even if the story goes that someone did buy this door, they would probably be an NPC who isn’t looking for it at all, because it isn’t real. Even if they are, they’re not liable to find it. That’s their justification for keeping it. When they finally build their home somewhere around here, they’ll hook this door to it. They’ve earned it.
They’re not sure where they’re gonna go, though. Should they stay close by, or is this where all players begin their journeys? If that’s the case, it’s not a good place to start a life. At some point, they want to all but forget the way things were. If every time they try to immerse themselves in the lifestyle, someone new shows up who isn’t used to not talking about spaceships and computers, it’s going to ruin the experience. Ronan is not even sure if they want to stay close to anyone who is here right now. Yes, there is safety in numbers, but they can trust none of these people to have any honor. Who are their characters meant to be? They have already met a thief, who has been avoiding them, probably believing that Ronan might retaliate. He won’t. That’s not in Ronan’s character, but the thief doesn’t know that, and neither does anyone else.
Having possessions means someone might take them from you, but it also signals that you’re less likely to try to take from others, and that’s a valuable state to be in. Today, they’re in shock, and still full from a breakfast that took almost no effort to procure. Tomorrow, they will be hungry, and could descend into madness quite quickly. That’s why technology breeds civility. There is no need to act like an animal when a food synthesizer can print you anything you want in minutes. But here? There are no rules, and it’s about to get nasty. That’s why Ronan and Mayumi signed up. But they’re not idiots. They know they need to protect themselves. That probably means forging their own path. Once they start building their wealth, they will start to need to defend it, but they will also be able to, and they will feel more comfortable around others because of that. So Ronan picks up the door, and uses it as an umbrella for the both of them while they head into the woods to look for a private place to settle. It will be miles away.
“Wait, can I come with you?” It’s the little orphan Ronan saved from the deep.
“What’s your name, boy?” Mayumi asks him.
“It’s Vith, son of unknown.”
She giggles, and reaches out her hand. “Come on, Vith. You can help me look out for berries. Don’t eat anything, though. It might not be edible.”
“May,” Ronan argues, “we cannot keep him. You already have one on the way.”
“I’m not going to leave him to starve to death on the shore. I believe we were brought together for a reason. He stays.”
He stays. Then nine months pass.

Sunday, June 14, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 12, 2556

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They found themselves an ice cave to hole up in to get out of the wind. They were not going to die anytime soon, but it still wasn’t comfortable. Ramses and Leona got to work, trying to figure out what was wrong with their suits, but really, there was nothing they could do. None of their technology was working. They couldn’t even activate sensors to find out why. Nothing in the natural universe was known to do this. There could be interference, which made certain technologies malfunction, but they wouldn’t simply not turn on, full stop. Marie and Angela volunteered to take a short hike to higher ground to search for any sort of artificial settlement. Their comms devices didn’t work, but they would signal trouble using their empathetic connections. Those were all organic, so they were functioning fine. They didn’t find anything, though.
When they were mere seconds from midnight, Mateo walked outside, threw a rock he found up into the air, and watched it go up. When midnight hit, the rock didn’t fall down. It simply disappeared. He found it near his feet, covered in a layer of snow, which told them that their patterns had not been suppressed. During the interim year, nothing had changed. They couldn’t turn anything on, or access anything from their pocket dimensions. If it required power, it was off limits. Ramses was at a loss, so they decided to go exploring to see if there were any resources here. Their advanced substrates would keep them alive for a while, but not indefinitely. They still needed to find food, as well as fuel to make a fire so they could melt some snow for the water. Except that was dangerous too, because there could have been contaminants, or it wasn’t purely water ice in the first place. No one was panicking, but they were all worried.
“Look!” Romana announced. The sun was setting, and they could see a little bit of the night sky. Flashes of light were appearing in an artificial sequence, proving that they couldn’t have simply been meteors, or some other natural phenomenon. So there were people here, but they were only in orbit, or maybe others were just a few miles out of view. As they were watching, they spotted a fiery object much larger than the others. While they faded into the atmosphere, this one continued to plummet towards them until a parachute burst out of it, and it slowly drifted down to the surface.
 “Wait!” Leona warned as they began to walk towards it. “It could be a trap. It could be an explosive device. It could be anything.” Even if it wasn’t, that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. It could be waiting for their approach so it could disperse a toxic gas, or some other creative way to kill them. All the way out here, they couldn’t rely on the afterlife simulation as backup. This could be it for them.
“We have to look at it, Lee,” Olimpia reasoned. “If they wanted to blow us up, they would have sent a missile that we couldn’t dodge. It’s not like there are any police to get them in trouble.” She led the group a few hundred meters away to see what it was.
It was a small capsule, still hot from the descent, but cooling rapidly. Mateo opened the little hatch on the side to find a rolled up piece of paper. There was also what looked like a compass, though of no familiar design. There were no electronics here either. He unrolled the paper, and examined it alone at first. “It looks like directions.” He looked up, trying to get his bearings. “Written in kilometers,” he added as he handed it over to Leona. “About eighty-three of them to the destination.”
“Still could be a trap,” Leona said. “Maybe they don’t want to kill us, but harvest our organs, or something. That’s why they didn’t send a missile.”
“Either way, we’re obviously going,” Olimpia reasoned. “We can escape a trap, but we can’t escape the nothingness. Yalla.”

Wednesday, March 25, 2026

Microstory 2633: Riding the Blinds

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
It’s the year 2424, and the trip to Castlebourne will take 108 years, because it is 108 light years away, and the ship will be able to travel at just under light speed. Due to special relativity, however, it will only feel like a couple of months for anyone on the ship. That preposition is more appropriate for Mandica than for anyone or anything else. They will actually be inside of it while she’ll be on the outside, like a parasite.
“That’s not the right term,” her pilot argues. “It makes it sound like you’re hurting the ship. I promise, it won’t even notice you. You’re not a parasite, it’s...” He trails off as he looks it up on his device. “Phoretic. You’re a phoresy. Yeah, that sounds better.”
“You literally called the pod The Barnacle,” Mandica argues.
“It’s a joke,” he defends.
“That hat is a joke,” she snaps back. She knows, she shouldn’t be so mean.
“Uh, it’s a trilby, and it’s what we call retro-stylish,” he boasts.
“All right, Trilby.” She notices that he seems to like that nickname. “Tell me how this works so I don’t vaporize myself in the middle of interstellar space.”
Trilby literally pulls back the curtain to show the little pod that she’ll be in. It looks like the inside of a nutshell, but only half of it. There is no other half. This will evidently be sealed against the hull, so the hull acts as the fourth wall, and if that seal ever breaks, she’ll be exposed to the vacuum of outer space. “Okay. You’ll have to be in your Integrated Multipurpose Suit when we begin, helmet and all. You can hold onto these handles so you don’t slip off. Of course, you’ll be tethered, but if you slip out during the process, the seal will snap that tether, and you’ll start to float away.”
“Got it. Hold on tight.”
“Right,” he agrees. “Once it’s sealed, I wouldn’t unseal it until you reach your destination, or you’ll be screwed. It can be resealed, but you would have to keep your grip on it for that to work, so just don’t do it. There’s no door. You can only get out by detaching from the hull. I assume you’re halfway decent with computers. Everything you need is on this console, and it will interface with your suit. It has its own powersource, but it’s minimal, so I suggest you let it siphon from the arkship. Don’t worry, it’s a small pod, and you’re only one person, so the power draw will be well within the margin of error. As long as you don’t do anything crazy, you won’t be detected.”
“Can I take my helmet off in transit, or even my suit?”
“Helmet off should be fine. This thing has its own climate control. I would leave the suit on most of the time, however. If you do remove it, do it in short bursts to let your body breathe, but don’t fall asleep like that, or anything. It’ll be a tight seal, but I won’t be there to fix any issues. It will all be up to you.” He lifts a flap on the end of the console. “Here’s a copy of the operator’s manual, in paper form. There’s obviously a virtual version of it, but this is just in case. He opens a small cupboard. It also has dayfruit growers, but I could only fit four of them, so you’ll want to supplement with the meal bars below it, and your dayfruit smoothie in your Portable Resource Unit. I don’t remember how long regular humans can go without food, so rationing will be up to you. Just be careful and pay attention to your supplies.”
Mandica sighs and looks over her little lifeboat. “Any exercise equipment? I’ve actually never been to space before today, and I spent most of the time hiding in that shipping container. But I hear that we regular humans have trouble with zero-g over long periods of time. I assume I’m subject to the inertial dampeners, or I simply wouldn’t survive high relativistic speeds at all anyway.”
Trilby nods. “The pod will leech from the inertial dampeners, but it’s weird because of how it attaches.” He points to some of the controls. “You’ll be able to tune it, however. If you just turn this dial, it will lower the effects slightly, allowing you to make the back of the pod down. Don’t be scared of it, you will not be able to turn your private dampeners so far down that you splatter against the wall. And this isn’t even the wall. Think of it as the floor. See? Here’s your bed.” He slides the bed lid away. Because of this little shuttle’s own inertial dampeners, it looks like the bed is up against the wall, but that will change once she’s attached and on the move. “You can still do exercise. Your suit has a number of programs built in, which you can peruse yourself. Just be sure to narrow the results to close-quarters, or it may try to get you to run away.”
Mandica nods repeatedly. She’s growing quite nervous. It was bad enough when he snuck her onto the space elevator, but now she will be completely alone. If this fragile thing pops off, and she manages to survive that, she won’t be able to get into the ship. She won’t be able to ask for help. Even in an emergency—even if she’s willing to get caught—the arkship may be fully automated, and help may be difficult. Some bots don’t respond to black swan events. They won’t know how to respond to her pleas. And she’s not going to ask this guy if there will be any intelligence present, because nothing should go wrong at all. She will be tucked away safely for two months, and be free of Core World rule forever. She doesn’t hate the establishment, but she wants to remove herself from it, and this is the only way. She can’t afford the energy credits for anything else.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Trilby says to her.
“Have you done this before?”
“Not this exact thing, but I’ve tested the barnacle pod. It will work, as long as you treat it right, and don’t push the wrong buttons.”
“No pressure,” she says.
He takes a chance and places a hand upon her shoulder. “You’ll do well.”
She doesn’t know him, but he’s been helping her, and risking a lot to do it, so she decides to go for it and give him a hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He looks over at his screen. “We’re comin’ up on it. Remember what I taught you, and for everything else, rely on your survival instincts. Digitized people don’t have those anymore, but yours will know what to do. Better put on your other two IMS layers, but first, fix your inner layer. You have it on backwards. The autozipper goes in back. Let me know when you’re ready. I have to seal the bulkhead before I open the airlock, but we’ll be able to talk on comms. I’ll stay with you until I get out of range myself, or the arkship launches, and you speed away in a flash.”
“All right.” She puts her suit all the way on, and tethers herself to the barnacle pod. He opens the airlock, and lets the pod drift out for a little bit before seizing it with his grabber claws. He maneuvers the barnacle in front of his shuttle as he makes his approach. She wants to close her eyes, but that would just be unsafe, so she watches. She looks around for any cameras, drones, or lurking spacewalkers. No one. No one will know she’s here. The claws push the pod forward, and automated systems automatically latch on. The vacuum seal engages until she’s fully secure. They spend the next few hours getting to know each other better before the arkship powers up and flies away.

Thursday, January 8, 2026

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

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

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

Microstory 2568: Investigative Reporter

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I dedicated years of my life to a story that doesn’t exist. Prior to this, I’ve tried to make a name for myself by breaking stories, but I’ve usually failed. I guess I’m just no good at this. Okay, that was an exaggeration. I’ve exposed the truth on a number of events in my day, but maybe I’ve lost my edge. Maybe I was blind. I saw nefarious intentions behind the Landis Tipton Foundation because I figured there had to be one. No one is this nice. No one is this charitable. Normally, I face obstacles all the time, but there’s always something to find, and I always find it, even if it’s not as dramatic or salacious as I thought it would be. Basically, I always have a piece to write. It’s never won me a Renaldo Award, but it’s kept food on the table. I can’t believe how much time I wasted, trying to find fault in maybe the one guy in the world who is exactly what it says on his tin. I’ve given up, but not entirely. Now I’m focused on the pharmaceutical company that they’re working with. The deal reeks of something bad, and big pharma isn’t known for its charity. Why give the cure away for free when you can make bank on the treatment? No, there’s got to be something there. I may have lost the house, and the kids, but I’m going to get back on track. I’m going to prove that I still have what it takes to investigate and report. I focused too much on Landis, but there are other people involved, and I should have realized that before. I should have appreciated it. I just need to make some more connections, and I’ll have my answer. Who needs food anyway? It just slows me down.

Monday, December 1, 2025

Microstory 2551: Cafeteria Cook

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I’ve always been in the culinary arts, and yes, I’m allowed to call it that, even though I don’t own a world-class fine dining establishment. As soon as I turned fourteen, I started working at a diner. I actually applied two weeks prior to that when I was still too young, and my future boss worked the delay into the scheduling. I started at the bottom, just washing dishes, but I worked my way up, and eventually practically ran the place. Unfortunately, the town we lived in was shrinking at the same time. There wasn’t room for two restaurants, so ours got shut down. I probably could have moved over to the other, but it’s not like the shrinking was going to stop there. I could see the writing on the wall. My younger brother, he was going into premed about two and a half hours away from home. (He eventually entered medical school at the same institution). Our mother didn’t like him being that far away on his own, and the timing worked out anyway, so I went out there with him. He didn’t need taken care of, mind you, but we all need a support system. It saved us all money. Whenever he needed help studying, or just to talk out his problems, I was only ten minutes away. I took a job at the university hospital where he would eventually work, and I did that for many years, working my way up the seniority ladder yet again. I don’t have an interesting story about how I landed this position here. I hear people talk about how they knew someone who knew someone, or they had some special family member who was healed. It was about as basic as it gets for me. I applied, they interviewed me, they offered me the job, and I took it. I’m not saying that this is just like any other job, but I’ve been in the medical field—tangentially, at least—for decades at this point. I watched healing heroes every day. I fed them their food so they could have the energy to get back out there and perform miracles. They didn’t have superpowers, but they did the best they could. It’s a rewarding experience, and I’m quite proud of my job, but I’ve always been able to say that. Even at the diner, we weren’t saving lives, but we were the only place in a hundred miles with pancakes that made you see God. That’s pretty magical too.

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

Microstory 2538: Personal Chef

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I’ve been cooking my whole life. My grandmother raised me, along with my two siblings. They were older, but they were tasked with other responsibilities to maintain the household. I had a knack for the culinary arts, so that’s what she fostered in me. I cooked all the meals for everyone, and I loved it. My grandmother was very practical, though, so she didn’t let me focus all of my attention on my passion. She made me study all of my subjects in school, and after I graduated, she refused to let me go straight to the culinary institute. She knew that I wouldn’t get much out of a four-year degree, but she didn’t want me to have to rely on only one thing. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in me, but a cooking school wasn’t going to teach me all of the skills that she thought every adult should have. Spending two years at my community college was a great experience, which I believe turned me into a more well-rounded person. I’m still a chef, and that’s really all I care about, but I also remember reading the books, exploring evolutionary ecology, and learning to speak French. That was a pretty big one. I adore French cuisine, so it made sense to add that to my personal inventory of skills. Once I was done there, I went on to the Antova School for the Culinary Arts, where I graduated at the top of my class. It too was a two-year program, so when I entered the workforce, I wasn’t behind my peers. People often ask if—or even when—I’m going to open my own restaurant, but the truth is that I have no interest in that. There’s too much businessy stuff going on with that. I didn’t study any of that stuff, and I don’t want to return to school to do so. And I don’t wanna do it anyway. It gets in the way of the cooking. Sure, I can slap my name on a building, and call it mine while someone else actually handles the business side of things, but that’s just vanity. I’m perfectly content in the kitchen, working with my hands, and making something that people will enjoy. I never thought I would ever be cooking for a man like Landis Tipton, but who knew such a man would ever exist? It’s not the most exciting role, cooking for only one person who is not a picky eater in the least, but I’m a part of something bigger, and that’s good enough for me. If this job ever ends, I could always start tutoring elementary school students in French.

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Microstory 2508: Lie Taster

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I can taste your lies, and numb your reality. Now. What does that mean? Well, the first one is obvious, but you might be surprised to learn that lies taste sweet. They actually taste really good. You might think it should be the opposite, but what you have to understand is that my ability was something that all humans possess, just to a lesser degree. We can all tell when someone’s lying, depending on how good they are at being deceptive, and how good we are at picking it up. Think about it, if someone tells a lie and it tastes bad, it’s going to be quite obvious to you, and you’re just going to reject it. Lies are meant to make you happy with something that isn’t correct, so they tasted good to me, so they would feel good. Of course, I wasn’t doing my job if I just accepted the taste, and didn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t hard either, to ignore that part, and just use it as a tool to get to the root of our subject’s issues. Only when they were honest with me could I be sure they were being honest with themselves, and only at that point could I help them not have to lie anymore. If you genuinely enjoy your job, for instance, you won’t have to lie when your boss asks if you’re happy doing it. My responsibility was to get the taste of these lies out of my head, which didn’t involve anything beyond just talking with them in a therapeutic setting. I’m the only one who almost never used my active Vulnerability gift. There just wasn’t much reason to. The best use cases were when someone was having a panic attack, and I happened to be in the room. By numbing them to their struggles, they could gain some much-needed perspective, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when I brought them back to reality. It wasn’t always prudent to do this, though. I mean, they really had to be going through it at the time, and acting violent, or threatening to harm themselves or others. It was a last resort that thankfully did not come up most of the time. There is one time that I wish I had used it, and it was our last client. He could have done with a hell of a lot less emotion on that night, and we would not have ever been in danger from him. Or not. He might have used that against us as well, fueling his anger, and making him even more vindictive. There’s no way to know, but I think it all worked out, because the world has Landis now. I am enjoying being able to walk into a restaurant, and taste food, knowing that what I taste is real, and not coming from a lie coming out of someone else’s mouth.

Thursday, July 24, 2025

Microstory 2459: Savanna Land

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Right now, this is one of the least impressive domes on the planet. I guess I can’t say that. It’s not like I’ve seen every single other one. Then again, people have been making these kinds of statements forever, like when a food blog would rate the best restaurants in the country, as if they have any semblance of a comprehensive authority regarding anything close to what they’re claiming. All I mean is that there aren’t any animals here yet. For this one, I don’t think that they want to get by with lifelike robots. I think they want it to be really authentic, and that’s going to take some time. Still, it’s not called Savanna Animal Kingdom. They opened it, because it currently already exemplifies exactly what it says on the tin. There’s a ton of grass, patches of barren dirt, and very few trees. I didn’t see many other people while I was there, and the ones who did show up didn’t stay very long either, because we all saw the same thing. Potential. But not completion. The vehicles are ready, which is an interesting thing, but the real interesting part about that is how big they are. Back on Earth (before we stopped having to drive) roads had to be sort of standardized. It would have been ridiculous if French roads were 10 meters wide and Spanish roads were 50 meters wide. They developed organically, initially based on the size of people, then of horses, then horse-drawn carriages, and so on, and so forth. They got bigger, but you could still still see the natural origins. Even when they broke new ground, like I was saying, the cars were the size they were, and they weren’t going to make special cars for some hip, new region. I’m talking a lot about vehicles, because I can’t talk about the lions or the elephants yet. The point is, we’re starting from scratch here, and not limiting ourselves to tradition. Some of the vehicles are big, with giant observation bubbles which allow for 360 degree viewing all around. Man, it’ll be great in 15 or 20 years when this place is populated, and there are actually some cool things to see, but until then, we can literally only imagine.

Sunday, July 6, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 25, 2507

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On the way to Atlantis, Mateo pulled up its prospectus, and took a look at what was in store for them. It was located at the bottom of the Aquilonian Deep ocean, so visitors would be fully immersed in the environment, just like they would be if they were in the Atlantis from the book series. The characters lived in a grand city, hidden from the eyes of the normal people on Earth at the time, who wouldn’t understand. Unlike most domes on Castlebourne—or whatever alternate copy of it this place was—Atlantis wasn’t under a geodesic dome. The prospectus called it a monolithic dome; just a transparent shell with no lattice structure. It was non-holographic too, to better simulate what it was like for the Atlantians from the story, which protected their city through telekinesis, rather than physical infrastructure. It’s also much wider than it is tall. Other domes are hemispheres, but the Atlantic ocean only goes a few kilometers down, so Atlantis is shaped more like a cap, like the Aquilonian Deep itself.
Something weird happened when the train stopped at the Atlantis station. The pod started to creak and shake a little. The doors wouldn’t open, and the virtual windows weren’t operating, so they couldn’t see what was happening outside. They received their answer soon enough, though. As Leona and Ramses were once more trying to fix the issue, water began to leak  through the cracks. They became a house divided. Most of them had pressed themselves back against the wall with the controls. Mateo and Octavia happened to be on the other end, and did the same over there.
“I thought that Atlantis was literally under water, but not actually in it,” Marie began, loud enough for all to hear. “I thought the inside of the dome was fully dry and livable.”
“Without maintenance, it must have buckled under the pressure at some point,” Leona figured. “This isn’t the real Castlebourne.”
“The domes are made of diamond!” Angela argued.
“Partially,” Leona corrected.
“How do we get out of here?” Romana asked. “Can you guys teleport?”
Olimpia shook her head. “I’ve been trying. It’s still suppressed.”
“Why would he send us here,” Ramses questioned, “knowing we’re gonna die?”
“Wait. This is part of the experience, isn’t it?” Mateo put forth. “I never read the books, but I think Atlantis does—”
He was unable to finish the sentence before all hell broke loose. The vactrain could hold back the deluge no more. Water came rushing in. They were fully submerged in seconds. For most of them, this wasn’t that big of a deal. Their nanites tightened themselves around their bodies, and sealed up. They could have survived without air for a period of time, and even the force of being violently tossed around the pod, but the suit was an important extra precaution. Unfortunately, not all of them had one of these. Octavia was totally unprotected and in grave danger. Mateo was already holding onto her, making sure she didn’t hit her now. He was now hoping to somehow breathe into her mouth, but his helmet was in the way. He tried to open it up temporarily, but the nanites did not recede. They had a job to do, and it would seem that they were not programmed with the knowledge of Mateo’s advanced substrate. He didn’t need the suit. Octavia did, and if he didn’t do something immediately, she was gonna die.
Mateo closed his eyes to concentrate, realizing that giving her a few rescue breaths wasn’t gonna do much good anyway, as they were likely still trapped under a fully submerged dome. These nanites. They were stored inside his body, and right on the surface when engaged as a vacuum suit, but this was not a requirement. They could be reconfigured to fit loosely around him like regular clothes. He actually wasn’t even wearing regular clothes. They were all nanites the whole time, clinging to each other in the form of a shirt and pants until the suit was needed. If they could hang loosely from him, then they should be able to adhere to something else...someone else. Despite their protests, he commanded them to let go, and swarm Octavia instead. Finally they did as they were told, releasing their grip on his skin, and swimming over to envelope Octavia instead. He maintained his mental control over them, so they would maintain their cohesion. Then he took Octavia’s hand, and began to swim away.
Now that the pod was fully filled with water, it was no longer so turbulent. He was able to see his friends, who were starting to exit through the giant hole in the doors that the pressure had made. Leona was swimming over to beckon the two of them forth. The entire station was also submerged, so there appeared to be no respite. Ramses seemed to be less concerned about it. He led them along the outside of the vacuum tube, to a maintenance hatch. Once he managed to open it, the water flooded into that compartment as well. They had to wait until it too was filled before swimming in. After they were all in, Ramses shut the hatch behind them. Then he worked the controls to open a much bigger hatch. The water flooded there too, but as the space was now twice as big as before, it was no longer completely engulfed. There was a pocket of air for them to breathe in without their helmets. More importantly, they could finally talk about what just happened.
“What just happened?” Olimpia asked.
“We survived,” Ramses answered. “Again.”
“Did you know I could do this?” Mateo asked, jerking his head towards Octavia. She was still in his suit, because she had no mental control over the nanites. And for some reason, neither did he.
Ramses waded through the water towards them. “I didn’t. Good thinking. Can you release her?”
“They’re being difficult,” Mateo replied. “It was hard enough getting them to switch over to her. Now they don’t want to come back.”
Leona waded over too. “It was probably your adrenaline, which allowed you to exercise more control over the nanites than they were programmed to be subjected to. They only exist in three states: dormant, emerging, and stabilized. They’re stable around her now, and aren’t listening to you, because...” She contemplated the issue. “You’re too far away.” She shrugged. “Give her a hug.”
Mateo hugged Octavia, placing himself closer to his nanites, and commanded them to recede into his implants and go dormant, which they did. So he was still naked, but he didn’t want to command them to do anything else. He was afraid of another glitch.
“I’ll tweak the programming, and maybe boost the signal,” Ramses decided. “Might be nice if we can do what Mateo did, but on purpose, and with less resistance.”
“I did it on purpose.”
“I meant, premeditatively.”
“Where are we?” Romana asked, looking away as if examining their surroundings, but she was really just uncomfortable with seeing her father like this.
“Service tube,” Ramses answered, wading back in her direction. “They put pods in here to repair and replace parts.”
“How do we get out?” Angela pressed.
Ramses kept going towards a computer terminal, which was thankfully, waterproof. He started looking through the data. “I may need time to come up with a solution.” He shook his head. “Seven people, six suits, and flooding appears to be quite comprehensive. We need a clear path out of this dome, and into the next one. We can’t just walk though, or even try to swim to the top.”
“Octavia’s gonna be stuck here alone, in the water, for an entire year,” Marie pointed out. “No food, no freshwater. No escape.”
They all looked sadly at Octavia.
She took a breath. “What else is new?”
While Ramses was trying to come up with an escape plan, Leona was at another terminal, trying to figure out how to drain the water out of here, so at least Octavia would have a dry place to stand. The Waltons, meanwhile, were working on extracting a dayfruit smoothie module and a water recycling module out of their respective pocket dimensions. Octavia needed these things more than they. The ladies solved their three problems in enough time for the jump to the future. The tube wasn’t designed to be drained of this much water, but it did have a drain, which could take care of it over time. Octavia would be alone, and in this terrible place, wet for a few days, but at least she would have food and water.
“I’ll stay with her,” Romana declared.
“What?” Mateo asked her. He was fully clothed now.
“It’s something I can do, and I should, Romana reasoned. “She shouldn’t be alone. She’s been so alone.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Octavia assured her. “It’ll be boring.”
“Actually,” Ramses said. “The terminal has some entertainment stored on it. I don’t know why, as they don’t really use human workers for this, but it’s there. Should last you. Lots of ancient reality TV, though.”
“Have you not found somewhere better where they can go instead?” Leona asked him.
“Afraid not,” Ramses responded. “Atlantis is totally flooded. Every nook, every cranny. The vactube was the only dry space, but it only stayed that way, because there wasn’t any activity. We altered the pressure differential by coming here.”
“It’s okay,” Romana decided. “We’ll make this work.” She smiled at Octavia. “Together.”
Their watches beeped.
“Last time to back out,” Mateo said.
“Not gonna happen.” Romana hugged her father. “I’ll see you in a year. You’ll see me in a minute.”
Midnight central hit. When they returned, Leona’s draining program was complete, and the service tunnel was totally dry. The weird part was, Romana was in a different spot, but Octavia wasn’t. The former was sitting on one chair, resting her feet on another, casually filing her fingernails. The latter was exactly where she was before, still wet, and very confused.
“What the hell happened?” Mateo asked. “Octavia, you’re on our pattern?”
“I don’t see how.”
“What’s that humming sound?” Olimpia asked.
Leona knelt down to the floor, and pulled her bag off to open it. She took out the crystal that Pacey had given them. The colors had abated after the initial lightshow, but they were back, presumably triggered by the time jump. “First thought. This put her on our pattern, hopefully for her sake, temporarily.”
“Oh, Romana. You’ve been alone this whole time,” Mateo whined apologetically.
“NBD,” Romana said, hopping off of her chairs. “I watched every episode of Survivor and The Amazing Race. I read those Witches of Atlantis books too. I know why it flooded.”
“Still,” Mateo said, embracing his daughter again. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I wish Pacey would have just been clear about what that crystal was. Talk about a solution without a problem.”
“It’s really okay. Now we know. And that’s not all we know.” She walked over to the hatch they had come in through, and opened it. No water came in. “As you said before, it’s all part of the experience.”
Even though they were confident that it was fine, the six of them cautiously passed Romana, and stepped out of the tunnel. The train station was completely dry. Everything was fine. Had they imagined it?
“You’re not imagining it,” Romana said. “It’s periodically flooded on purpose. I don’t know what the exact schedule is, so we shouldn’t stick around, but I have not been living in that service tube this whole time.”
“Why would the station be flooded too, through?” Leona questioned. She looked down at the pod, which was still warped and damaged. “That’s a major safety hazard.”
“That I believe was an accident,” Romana determined. “Pacey left a door open. Only the dome itself is meant to be inundated. I closed it.”
“I’m proud of you,” Mateo said.
She laughed and scoffed. “Dad. Anyway, I looked for Buddy, and he’s not here. He must have moved on to a different sector in Recursiverse, perhaps a different planet.” She used airquotes.
“How do we do that?” Ramses asked her. “The vactube is down, so do we take a spaceship?” He used airquotes too, because if there were indeed ships here, they were probably only simulations, meant to make it feel like visitors were traveling through the simplex dimensions, to worlds light years away, when they were probably only driving to the next dome over.
“The Atlantians didn’t use ships,” Romana explained as they were leading them down the corridor, still in the perimeter structure of the dome. She stepped into the driver’s seat of a shuttle cart, and drove off once everyone was on board. “If they wanted to leave Earth, they used something else.” She drove them a few kilometers until they reached what was clearly a Nexus building.
“Is this functional?” Leona asked, intrigued.
“I don’t think so,” Romana replied. “You tell me.”
“Hey, Venus Opsocor,” Leona said to the aether after walking in. “Are you there?”
No response.
“She may not wanna answer,” Leona explained, “but I’m guessing that it’s simply not a real Nexus.”
“Probably not.” Romana started to walk up the steps to the control room. “Shut the door.” She reached into the room without stepping in, and swung her arm once against the wall.
Marie smirked and looked up towards the ceiling with her eyes. “We’re moving.”
“Yeah,” Romana agreed. “Right now, we’re rotating into the next dome over, while that dome’s Nexus rotates into here. It takes about four minutes, and is meant to be imperceptible. If you’re paying too much attention, you can tell that it’s just a simulation, but visitors are expected to step into the cavity, and pretend that it’s real. We don’t have to do that. We’re just gonna wait for the rotation to be complete, open the door, and we’ll be in the new dome.” She pointed. “I think there’s a corridor over there, so we could have just walked across, but...”
They stood there and waited. Only Leona wandered into the cavity, mostly out of boredom. Technicolored lights rained down on her from the Nexus drum above, but that was all they were; lights. The rotation ended, and they left. Everything looked pretty much identical to where they were before, until they crossed the ring, and opened the inner doors. They were definitely not in Atlantis anymore.
Romana passed by them, and held her arms out as she was spinning around. “Welcome...to Ce—”
She never finished the word. An explosion knocked them all on their asses.

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Microstory 2427: Great Depression Dome

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.

Friday, June 6, 2025

Microstory 2425: Industrial Farm Dome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
A bunch of domes are dedicated to farming. Some of them are designed for necessary food production, but others are just for the sake of it. Industrial farming describes the kind of farming that they did during and after the industrial revolution. They used machines to farm giant fields for massive numbers of people, and even used electricity, but they didn’t have computers. There was absolutely no hint of automation. Lots of farm hands still had to do all the work, and that’s how it goes here. Nothing gets done if there’s no one here to do it. If that means the crops die, then so be it. There’s actually plenty of waste, because the rest of the current population of the planet doesn’t really want to eat this stuff. Everything they could ever want is provided for them. They got their lab grown meat, meal bars, food printers, and dayfruit. They don’t really care how hard I worked out here in the hot sun, and the Castlebourne leadership isn’t incentivizing them to choose us over those other things. I think they really should have worked this out differently. Screw that other stuff. If you have the real thing—and people are willing to labor FOR FREE—why would you choose anything else? Those should be a last resort. If they want this planet to be self-sufficient, then we have what you’re looking for. I don’t blame the other visitors for doing this wrong. There is so little awareness about what we can do for them. I guess what you really need is cooks. Some domes have culinary components, or so I hear, but I can’t find a dome that’s dedicated to the culinary arts. If they did that, we could work closely with them to make the supply chain a real thing. See? I got ideas, and I’m just a dumb regular human. I came here on a ship with one of these new reframe engines. I can’t even upload or transfer my consciousness to a new body. This is the real me. These other people don’t always even need to eat, so they have no appreciation for any of this. Some changes need to be made around here, because I don’t want to go back to the stellar neighborhood. I shouldn’t have to. I should be able to find what I’m entitled to on this planet. People just need to do the right thing.