Microstory 2586: Renata Hurdles Over the Railing, and Rushes Over to Polly

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1

Renata hurdles over the railing, and rushes over to Polly. She places her hand upon his, adding pressure to keep the blood inside. There’s so much blood, though. No one can survive this; not all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.

“It’s not good,” he ekes out. “I’m not gonna make it.”

“Not with that attitude,” Renata scolds him. “Boot and rally. Fight through it.”

“I can feel my ribs scraping against each other!” Polly complains. He moves his hand off of the wound, flipping it over to hold Renata’s. “I just don’t wanna die alone.”

Renata begins to tear up as she’s squeezing his hand back. She looks down at the destruction made by the buckshot. She expects to see his ribs, and she suspects that that’s kind of what they are, but instead of being porous white, they’re smooth and silvery. It’s metal. “This man is made of metal.”

“What?” Polly questions.

Renata looks up at her mom, who is somewhat casually walking up to them. “Is he a robot?”

Libera smiles, not sadistically, but maybe triumphantly? “You’re not supposed to be able to see that. You’re supposed to see what a normal person would expect to see, but now you’re mind is opening up. You’re realizing the truth.”

“Is he a robot!” Renata repeats angrily.

“Yes!” Libera shouts back, matching her energy before calming down. “He is.”

“Am I a robot too!”

“No. You’re something else.”

“You keep saying that! You’re so vague. Fuck you, mom!” Renata looks back down at Polly. “You’re gonna be okay. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better in your final moments. This isn’t real. That’s not blood. That’s not pain. This is just a simulation, and whatever you’re feeling is only part of a program. All you have to do is choose the truth. Simply switch off the pain. For someone built like you, it’s only minor damage. It can’t affect your mind, or your life. You can’t die from it. So ignore it. Turn. Off. The. Pain.”

Polly has been staring into her eyes as he listens to her instructions, supposedly choking on his own blood. His gaze drifts away, but only for a second before returning to her. At last, he exhales, and looks peaceful. Confused but pleased, he looks down at his now clearly minor damage, and begins to smile. Then he nods. “You’re right. This isn’t real. I can’t die; not from something stupid like this.”

Renata leans back and pops back up to her feet as Polly does the same.

“Holy shit,” Libera says, even more happy than before. “I didn’t know you could do that. I didn’t even think I could do that.”

“It’s a robot thing, you wouldn’t get it,” Renata decides.

“Wouldn’t I?” Libera pulls out a butterfly knife, and starts flicking it around to show off her skills. She sticks it in her arm, and drags it upwards. Then she pulls the skin away to show her own metal arm.

“What the hell?” Renata yells. “Is anyone real?”

“We’re all real,” Libera claims. “Even this guy apparently.”

“Are we all not human?” Renata corrects herself for a better answer.

Libera sighs, presumably done with the charade. “The three of us aren’t, in a technical sense, though with advances in genetic and neural engineering, the differences are ultimately meaningless, according to most laws. Essentially, while we may not be human, we’re still people. I’m not sure humans even exist anymore if we’re using the original, strictest definition.”

“Most laws?” Renata questions. “There are laws about us? How would I have never heard of them before? And what happened to the humans? Did we kill all of them, and I had my memories erased? Or was I created after the apocalypse? What the hell is going on?”

Libera can’t help but chuckle. “There was no apocalypse. Everyone’s fine. I’m just saying that birthed intelligences, like Mister Samani, and your friend Quidel, aren’t like the humans of several centuries ago. They’re also enhanced, in their own ways, but probably more organically. I’m not sure, I’ve not seen their primary substrate specs.”

Renata shakes her head. “I don’t understand. What’s real, what isn’t?”

“The spirit of your question—which is coming from a place of ignorance—is what about your life actually happened, and what didn’t. The truth is, I’m sorry to say, almost nothing of what you’ve experienced ever actually happened. You were created about a couple of decades ago, and you’ve been running the same handful of scripts ever since. You didn’t grow up, you’ve never aged. Until recently, your life has been part of a simulation, designed for the amusement of people like Quidel.”

“So this is a game, and he’s a player.”

“Pretty much,” Libera confirms.

“And Lycander?”

“He works here. He recites scripts too, but he knows that they’re scripts.”

“So Quidel plays superspy for half a day before unplugging, and going home? Meanwhile, Lycander works his job before also unplugging, and also going home?”

“No, this is an immersive experience. Visitors are supposed to stay inside for an extended period of time. Quidel will probably be here for thirty years, unless he gets bored, and goes to explore some other simulation, or just relaxes on the beach.”

“How does anyone have time for that?” Renata knows that they should probably get the hell out of here, but she has so many questions, and for the first time in her—well, she has never had a real life, but those implanted memories are still there, and this still feels like a relief. So for the first time in her life, she’s finally getting answers. They’re on a roll, so she’s not going to stop unless someone or something forces her too. “You spend half your life pretending to be a secret agent, and that’s pretty much all you do before you die? What about money?”

“They don’t use money anymore, everything’s free. And they mostly don’t die anymore either. As I said, they’re advanced.”

Renata shakes her head again. “I need to speak with the two of them. Let’s pause the game, and take a breather.”

“You can’t pause the game. This is just a world, and people live in it.”

“But the MacGuffin isn’t real. It doesn’t matter. Quidel would know that.”

“Oh, no. The machine they’re protecting is quite real. And I need it.”

“Why?”

“You’re not ready for that one yet.” And there it is. The conversation is over.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 22, 2535

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1

Ramses and Leona were going to have to spend all of their time in the new lab. Since the former lost his forge core, he wasn’t able to build everything they needed in only a year. He kept a data chip on his person too, which at least stored all of the equipment specifications, but it couldn’t build anything, so the process was slow. There wasn’t much waiting for them when they returned. Most of the resources available out here had been used to excavate and habitize the celestial body itself, so the lab would even have a place to sit. Instead of dragging him to some central location, Pribadium opted to lock the prisoner up here, so part of the work was dedicated to constructing that as well.

Not useful in the lab, Mateo decided to go visit the prisoner. “How are they treating you?”

“They’re fine.” He was down, and couldn’t look Mateo in the eye. This facility was entirely automated, so he probably hadn’t spoken to a human-level intelligence in almost a year.

“Linwood, right?” Mateo asked. “Linwood Meyers?”

“That’s what they called me, back when they called me anything.” His accommodations weren’t just some tiny cell with concrete walls. It was a luxury condo, not much worse than the coin habitat. The psychological toll of not having a choice, however, was the real problem, and there were probably missing amenities.

“What did you have in your personal crabitat that you don’t have here?” A crabitat was a kind of habitat that hermits lived in. Just a bit of play on words.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I wanna help. What are you missing?”

“Well, I didn’t just sit on my ass on the beach all day,” Linwood said. “I spent most of my time in simulations. My coin was just to keep me alive while I did that, and the planetesimal was there for raw materials.”

“And armor.”

“And armor,” he acknowledged.

“So, they didn’t let you keep your VR setup. Do you know why not?”

“Takes power,” Linwood admitted. “There’s plenty of it here, but I wouldn’t be able to manage it myself. They would have to let me have a dedicated bot to do it, and that’s just giving me too much. I have a holoscreen, with basic entertainment, but nothing immersive. And also...”

“Also what? You can tell me,” Mateo encouraged.

“I wasn’t always in sims, and even when I was, I wasn’t always alone. There’s a reason why I built myself a staff.”

“You need companionship,” Mateo realized. “They destroyed those too? They destroyed life?”

“They boxed their consciousnesses, and are storing them somewhere. They only destroyed the substrates.”

“Harsh system they designed here. Why did you choose Gatewood? Why not Proxima, or the Alpha system?”

“I wanted to be alone. Those are too heavily populated. I know it seems ridiculous. In any case, I would be millions and millions of kilometers away from civilization, but I want to be very isolated. I’m afraid of people.” He gestured at his environment in general. “I was right to be.”

“Well, you’re not dead yet, which should really be your only concern.”

“I’m not entitled to life extension procedures here either. Reactive medicine only. I will die eventually.”

Mateo nodded. “Well, that settles it. The Gatewood establishment wants us to take you away from here, so that’s what we’ll do. You’ll get your dwarf planet, and all the equipment you need to hermit back up, including your staff.”

“I don’t need a dwarf planet,” Linwood said, “I’m not greedy.”

“My wife says that you can live off the in-situ resources in a dwarf planet for around a hundred billion years or longer.”

“They’re too valuable,” Linwood contended, shaking his head. “No one would let me keep that.”

“We can take you somewhere so far away, it won’t be another 150,000 years before anyone can reach you. In all that time, you can burn some hydrogen going into the intergalactic void, where you’ll never be found.”

“Well, it’s not really practical to move a dwarf planet...”

“That’s your call. Burn bright and fast, or slow and long. Either way, you’ll have that choice, and like I said, you’ll also have tens of thousands of years to change your mind. Change your mind a thousand times, whatever. But the only option you won’t have is coming back to the stellar neighborhood. At least not quickly. We can take you out, but we won’t come back if you get bored, lonely, or homesick.”

“How do you have the power to do this? How do you have FTL?” Linwood questioned.

“We’ll place you in stasis, and not wake you up until we’ve arrived. You will never know how we did it.”

“Do I get to choose the direction, at least? So I at least have some idea of where I’ve ended up.”

“You’ll be on the other side of the Zone of Avoidance. Someone else will work out the particulars with you.”

“Not that I’m not grateful, but why would you do all this for me? I tried to kill you when we met.”

Mateo winced. “That was a year ago. I’m over it.” Obviously, it hadn’t been a full year for the team, but he genuinely wasn’t holding onto any grudge. The guy was trying to protect his home, and the bullets were no match for their armor. Not a big deal.

Linwood narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you...aliens?”

Mateo thought about this for a moment. “We’re all aliens now, aren’t we? It used to be that there was only one dominant species. You could carry on a conversation with another human, and that was pretty much it. Sure, you could engage in some basic communication with your pets. Elephants buried their dead, dolphins handed people their phones back, but by and large, it was just us. Now, I doubt there’s an official record of how many species there are. How could there be? You could genetically engineer yourself to be quite literally unique, making you incompatible with anyone else. So either alien needs to take on a new meaning, or simply be retired as a concept. I know what you’re asking, if I came from an independent evolutionary line, and the answer to that is no. I was born on Earth, in Kansas. But the true spirit of your question is why should you trust me when I’m behaving in a way that you don’t understand? In that sense, yes, I’m an alien, because my experiences in this universe have diverged from your own in unprecedented ways. You don’t have to understand, just accept the gift.”

“I accept the gift.”

“Great! In the meantime, as it will take another year at least before we can leave, I’ll speak with Pribadium about better arrangements. I get that she might not what to build you a master escape artist who can get you out of here, but you deserve companionship. That is a basic human right. Or whatever you identify as, if not human.”

“I would appreciate your assistance. That’s quite magnanimous of you.”

Mateo returned with a tight nod, and then left the visitors area.

Pribadium was standing just outside the door. “Making promises that you are not authorized to keep?” she asked.

Mateo looked back into the little prison where Linwood probably heard that. He closed the door behind him now. “All he wants is his favorite entertainment, which keeps him occupied in there, and some companionship, which keeps him from going insane. This doesn’t have to be punishment, which is what prisons were back in the dark ages of the 21st century. You’re just trying to keep him from roaming free, so what exactly is the problem?”

“The problem is optics,” Pribadium said. “We can’t have people thinking that our response to illegal possession is getting whatever they need to live comfortably anyway.”

“No one is coming all the way out here, stealing an entire icy body, making it a home, hoping that you will give them a different home. They’re not unhoused. They just want to leave wherever they already were before. You cannot provide them with anything that they couldn’t get on their own somewhere else without all the headache of dealing with your rules, and the risk of being locked up like this.”

She shook her head. “I’m not trying to torture the guy, but I have to draw lines somewhere. You’re right, this won’t inspire a bunch of people to come here with the hopes that I will give them free room and boarding, but they might risk stealing material because they know that getting caught isn’t a big deal. We’ll give them whatever they need until we can get rid of them, and they’ll be fine.”

Mateo sighed. “Those cameras in there. Are they for security, or a reality show?”

“Huh?” She was confused about the sudden shift in the topic, and the topic itself.

“Is it to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or break out, or is his life being broadcast for people’s entertainment?”

“They’re just for security, of course, I’m not a monster.”

Mateo nodded. That wasn’t what he was thinking. He knew what the answer was, but getting her to vocalize the answer was necessary for him to prove his point. Or rather, it was better that she walked the path with him, instead of him just jumping there. “We are taking him clear across to the other side of the galaxy. Who the hell cares about the optics? You don’t have to tell them about it. Like I said, the VR keeps him inside. He’s not making phone calls or anything.”

Now Pribadium sighed. “I appreciate your point of view. It’s just not as easy as you say. You have no idea the kind of pressure I’m under, running an entire solar system of resources. I am being scrutinized by everyone; not just the other core worlds, but everyone, because this is where everyone comes to get their shit. Even if it’s a state-sanctioned colonial mission, we’re only six light years away, so Earth usually chooses to come here for their resources too. We’re the biggest store in the universe. Practically a monopoly.”

“I know what it’s like to be scrutinized,” Mateo argued. “It wasn’t technically an entire star system, but there were billions of people who were looking to me for guidance in their everyday lives. And that’s people, not assets. I didn’t have the benefit of much established institutionalism. They expected me to help come up with the new laws. That’s why I was there.”

She put her tail between her legs. “I kind of forgot about that part of your life. Running Dardius must not have been easy.”

“It wasn’t, but it was rewarding, and everything was so much easier when we were able to be generous and hospitable to people, rather than restrictive. I know, you have your laws, and I respect that. Just don’t become a tyrant. Not only is that bad for people, but it’s bad for you. It doesn’t ever end well.”

“I appreciate your advice.”

Mateo smiled awkwardly. “I’m not trying to mansplain your job to you. I apologize if I strayed in that direction.”

“It’s okay. Mansplaining isn’t much of a thing anymore as gender isn’t as important as it was in your time.”

“Right.” They stood there in silence for a bit. “It’s been a long time, and I don’t feel like we ever knew each other all that well, but would you be amenable to a hug?”

“I would like that.”

They hugged.

“Do you know how it’s going in the lab?” Mateo asked once they released.

“I never gave you an answer on whether I was gonna give the guy VR and his companions back.”

He turned his chin up thoughtfully. “I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re not a monster, right?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “The lab people are fine. I offered my assistance, but he, uh...”

“Doesn’t know you,” Mateo finished, knowing full well that it wasn’t what she was going to say.

“Yes, let’s go with that.”

“Does he think that we’ll be ready to go by the end of the day next year?”

“I would assume so. I also offered to make his lab better during his interim year, but he declined. I think he’s treating this as quite temporary, so he’s limiting his projects to only what he needs to get you guys out of here. You should know, though, that you are welcome to stay. I do have some leeway. I can essentially put you on the payroll without actually giving you any jobs, which would allow you to live here. Plus, not existing for most of the year works in our favor. For the optics.”

“That’s very kind of you, but it looks like you have everything well in hand, and we typically try to go where we’re needed.”

“I understand. I just want to make sure that our relationship remains healthy.”

“We’ll always be friends,” he promised. After a proper beat, he continued, “I’m gonna go check on my wife.”

“Which one?” she asked after he had already passed her. “You dog,” she joked.

He looked back with a wide smile. “Why, you wanna split me into thirds?”

She shrugged. “I’ll consider it.” It almost didn’t sound like a joke.

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2497: Swampdome

< > Table of Contents

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

I’m not saying there’s something lurking under there, but...there’s something lurking under there. In case you didn’t tease it out from the name of this dome, this is swamp country. If you go to any swamplands on Earth, this is what they look like. It has all the same flora from there, and some—if not all—of the fauna. You can take a boat on the water. It can be a rowboat or an airboat. I don’t really think you have any other options. You could also just wade or swim in the water if you’re feeling brave. The water is so murky, there’s no way to know if something is hiding underneath the surface. I’m almost certain there is. As I was sitting on my boat, I could both here and feel something bump up against the wood. I couldn’t see anything, but I seriously doubt a turtle is strong enough to hit it with the amount of force it would have needed to. Yeah, it could have been an alligator. And that would be scary. But it could also be something else, which I think is scary, because there’s so much uncertainty. Humanity is long past the time since we perfected genetic engineering. There’s no reason it can’t be a creature that never existed in nature. There’s that one character from the comics. I’m thinking it’s that guy, or someone very much like him. I mean, his story would be different, but they could absolutely make a person who approximates whatever properties that character had. I wasn’t scared, I wanna be clear on that, but it was a little unsettling; I have to admit. There’s really nothing more to say about it. They didn’t do anything special. There are docks, boathouses, houseboats, and cabins randomly strewn about, so if you find one of those, you can get out and explore. Come here if you wanna be in a swamp, but not if you want to learn anything, or have a story to tell. Unless that monster that I think lives down there shows its face, it’s just gross water to me.

Microstory 2492: Mythodome

< > Table of Contents

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

This is a very complex dome, and it’s due to the interconnectedness of world mythology. As I’m sure you’re aware, Earth is home to many a myth, which people once believed, or at least found value in the stories that described them. Since there have been so many cultures in our history, these myths often contradict each other. Lots of them, for instance, came up with a god of the sun, but they could never all be true. That’s where this dome takes liberties, because they are all “true” insomuch as they coexist here. There are indeed multiple sun gods, and they operate as a sort of council. Don’t ask me what they do, though, because as I’m sure you’re also aware, this is all made up. In real life, God doesn’t exist, elves don’t exist, trolls don’t exist. This is an immersive world where such creatures and beings have been engineered out of the specifications presented in the various source materials. It can be hard to track. Some myths even contradict themselves, as told by different authors, and diverging translations. So, Mythodome does its best, but the interesting result—which I’ve been trying to drive at this whole time—is that it is more than the sum of its parts. It has spawned a new mythology, which includes that sun-god council I mentioned, and various factional alliances that never existed in the original stories, because they weren’t culturally related. Part of the experience is learning the new story that has come out of this, which could have hypothetically been its own franchise in traditional media, if someone had thought to be quite this comprehensive before. There are different kinds of elves, for instance, because there have been different interpretations in the stories, and these elves are aware of each other, and have developed complicated relationships with each other naturally. That’s my understanding anyway, which is that their dynamics have taken on a life of their own to form this fresh society, and I think they were doing it before any Earthans came to visit. That alone is interesting enough, not just that these mythical creatures can be genetically engineered, but that we end up with unpredictable consequences as a result of so many variables. I’m rambling now, but suffice it to say that it would not be difficult to spend years here. You could even spend an entire lifetime, making your own way, and finding your purpose. Because very little about this place was prewritten. It’s all been developing on its own, and who knows where it will take us next?

Extremus: Year 77

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image modifier

The Verdemusians are split. Aristotle and Belahkay have decided to stay with Omega as he prepares to send his clones off to fight a war against the Exin Empire. It’s not even just that everyone else wants to make love, not war. They also want to keep Verdemus off of the empire’s radar. They went to great lengths to give them the impression that the planet was destroyed, with the solar system left soaked in exotic radiation. If the Exins get the slightest hint that it might still be intact, it could have disastrous ramifications for Extremus. Aristotle wants to use the power that he inherited from his father to transport the entire moon from its orbit to the Goldilocks Corridor. But even if that works, it might lead the enemy to decide to launch another attack against them, and that would not be good.

Over the course of the last several months, the two factions have lived separately from each other, with the warriors working on Jaunemus while everyone else stays on Verdemus. In addition to maintaining the gestational stasis pods for the clones, they’re developing a lot more infrastructure on the moon, including weapons manufacturing plants, ground-based artillery, and who knows what else? Tinaya has separated herself from it both physically and mentally, as have Spirit and Niobe. Lilac travels back and forth using the shuttle. Aristotle is her son, and even though she doesn’t agree with his choices, she’s not going to abandon him. She knows his father more than anyone here; probably more than anyone in histories. She is, therefore, the only one qualified to help him succeed in his mission to transport an entire moon hundreds of light years into the galaxy. If he’s going to do this—and he is going to do it—he needs to practice with smaller objects, and shorter distances, first. It’s going to be years before he’s ready for the big show, and even then, they can’t leave right away. If he’s anything like Maqsud, the trip will be all but instantaneous. Their window will not be for another couple of centuries. They’ll need to make use of those stasis pods for themselves.

Niobe has been pretty depressed lately. Aristotle is like a brother to her, but she feels that she has to distance herself from him. She’s the least accepting of his choices out of all of them, and she’s holding that over his head by cutting him off entirely. Either he comes back into the family, or he never gets to see his little sister again. He can’t have it both ways. Tinaya has been trying to be there for her without straying down the path of trying to get her to change her mind. Lots of people will say that family is family, and you’re required to love them unconditionally. But this is neither healthy nor practical. She has to protect her own mental wellbeing, and if that means breaking ties with someone she feels to be detrimental to that, then she has to do it. You may be on her side, or you may be on his, but either way, she has the right to make her demands of him, just as he has the right to do that for her, should he come up with anything. For the moment, he appears to be bothered by it too, but he’s committed to his decision, and has not tried too hard to reach out.

Niobe has mostly been focusing her efforts on the megablock. The way she sees it, the Omega clones have no choice but to fight this war if they have nowhere else to live anyway. She wants to make this place as inviting as possible, so that any would-be deserters actually have the option to live out their lives in peace on a beautiful planet. She’s been fabricating beds and other furniture, as well as other synthesizers for a sustainable lifestyle. None of the clones is even awake at the moment, but once she receives word from Lilac that this has begun to happen, she’ll be ready to make her case to them. She doesn’t know what they’re going to say. The clones are an unpredictable bunch. They aren’t all perfect copies of Omega. They’re more bred than grown. Each one was programmed to come out slightly genetically different than the one before, eventually cascading into a rainbow of diversity that Omega himself could not have predicted. Around 31% of them are female. The first ones that were found in the pods were the earliest of models, which was why they were indistinguishable, but the latter ones look like completely different people. They have names too, but these were computer generated, because it was too many for Omega to come up with himself. Niobe is thinking about asking them to choose their own once they are finally awakened.

“Have you sent the message for me?” Niobe asks as she’s checking the pH level of the outdoor swimming pool while it’s filling up. The neighborhood is going to be really nice, so that can’t be anyone’s argument against making use of it.

“I relayed it. I’ve not yet received a response.” Tinaya requested permission to begin releasing the clones so they can make their choice about what they’re going to do with their lives. As the time lag to and from the moon is only 1.21 seconds, she could have had a somewhat realtime conversation with them without superluminal communication equipment. The response delay would have been annoying, but bearable. Still, she chose to send an email instead in case Omega and Aristotle grew angry at the suggestion. She doesn’t need that kind of anxiety right now. They can reply when they’re ready, and hopefully after they calm down from their first reactions.

“Can’t you just order them to do it?” Niobe asked.

No, she can’t. “Sorry. You know that that would only cause more problems.” Since no one else was willing to say it, Tinaya had to remind herself that she is only the ad hoc leader, not a real one. She stepped up when no one else wanted the job, but they can stop listening to her at any time, and she can’t punish them for it. Some of them have indeed stopped listening, and fighting them on it isn’t going to help anything. It will only lead to deeper hostilities.

Niobe nods. “I know.”

Tinaya’s armband vibrates. She had to switch to this form factor because her watch’s wristband was irritating her glass skin at the ulnar styloid. After years of this, she’s still not used to the increased surface area of the notifications. She flinches, then looks at it. “Speak of the devil.”

“What’s it say?”

Tinaya sighs. “They’re open to discussion, but they have one condition...”

“Lemme guess, I have to be there in person.”

“Yes.”

“This is just an excuse to get me to forgive him. They won’t agree to anything.”

“You don’t know that,” Tinaya tells her.

“Think about it, what if every clone switches to my side? Even if they let that happen, they’ll just have to make more clones to replace them. And if those clones also defect? Where does it end? They need that army, and they’re not going to let a little thing like me get in the way of it.”

“So why are you taking this position if you think it’s not going to do any good?”

“Because if I die on this hill, Aristotle will have to come back to bury me on it.”

“That’s a really cynical viewpoint, Oboe.”

Niobe shrugs her shoulders, her lips, and her eyebrows. Tinaya has also had a hard time wrapping her brain around Niobe’s mature mannerisms. Her body is only twelve years old, but she’s actually lived about seventeen years at this point. She’s practically an adult, and everyone has to work hard to remember to treat her as such.

“Are you going to meet with them, or not? I’ll moderate if you agree.”

Niobe thinks about it, but she has little choice in the matter. This is what she’s been preparing for for a year. “Set it up, please.”

They choose to use the Kamala Khan as neutral ground, orbiting the Lagrange point one. It makes sense to use the shuttle for this as it originally came from the Iman Vellani, half of which was designed as a diplomatic vessel for talks like this one. Fortunately, they don’t need such grand accommodations, nor some kind of seasoned professional to mediate the negotiations here. They’re on opposing sides, but they still care about each other. Omega is speaking on behalf of his side, since it’s his project. Aristotle is there for support, but he does not have much say in the matter. Spirit is serving in the same capacity for Niobe. Tinaya is facilitating healthy and productive communication while Lilac has stepped away from this for fear of exhibiting a conflict of interest. She has instead returned to her Hock Watcher duties while Eagan is on board the shuttle to be available to provide snacks, or whathaveyou. Who knows where Belahkay is right now?

The talks have been going okay, but they’re at a stalemate at the moment. Omega recognized just as easily as Niobe the slippery slope that could result in giving the clones a choice. It is also not lost on him that the entire reason he’s here, and not fast asleep on a Project Stargate colonization module, is because he made a choice for his own life decades ago. Yes, he’s trying to make up for it now, but he’s never claimed to regret this decision. He feels that he’s done a lot of good while he was working with Team Keshida in the Gatewood Collective, and since coming on board Extremus. All Niobe asks is that he give the same chance to his own people. If they all choose not to fight, then it was probably a bad idea in the first place. Forced conscription is not the hallmark of a democratic or fair society in the least.

They’re in a short recess for now. Aristotle has asked to speak with Niobe alone on a personal matter, so they have sealed off the control section, which is the only private part of the craft besides the lavatory-slash-airlock. Tinaya is leaning back in her chair, watching Eagan like a nature photographer waiting for her subject to pounce on its prey. He’s not going to do anything of the sort. He always stands perfectly still unless someone calls upon him for something.

“Creepy, isn’t it?” Spirit asks, guessing at why Tinaya is so distracted by the robot.

“What? Oh, no. I mean, yeah, but...whatever. I was just thinking...”

“Are you feeling...urgeful?” Spirit asks. “Because there’s a subroutine...”

“Jesus, Spirit, no! I’m happily married. I was thinking about a robot army. They wouldn’t be carbon copies of Eagan, but they also wouldn’t be self-aware. They could mount an offensive without the risk of any loss of life.”

“I considered that.” Omega was taking his alone time in the airlock, but has since returned. “You didn’t think I considered that? I didn’t start making clones out of some sense of poetic symmetry. I ruled out a robot army during the initial planning for this operation due to many reasons, but there was one big, irrefutable one, which is all I needed to decide against it.”

“What might that be?” Spirit questioned.

“The Exins are...well, they’re confused, and they have been indoctrinated. They’re easily swayed by their leader’s outrageous claims, because he’s literally the one who created them. They other people,” he says, using the word as a verb. “All foreigners are bad, and unrelatable. To make their enemies nothing more than walking machines would only exacerbate this issue. It may seem like all I want to do is kill, kill, kill, but I would much rather end the war with only the one battle. I want them to see their enemies as real people, just like them, who deserve to empathized with, and understood. It’s much harder to kill a sentient being than to destroy a toaster. They’ll still do it, but I’m hoping that every time they do, it gives them pause, and that those pauses eventually add up to them questioning whether they’re even doing the right thing by fighting at all. That’s why I don’t want to sacrifice my army to the megablock. If we lose them, we’ve already lost the war, and in that regard, we’ve lost Earth and the stellar neighborhood too. I can’t let that happen”

“I can’t speak on that,” Tinaya admits. “I’m the impartial moderator.”

Omega chuckles. “You’re not, and I never expected you to be. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tattle on you to the Multicultural Interstellar Association of Space Mediators Association.”

“My asthma?” Spirit quips.

Omega breathes deeply as he’s taking a cup of iced tea from Eagan’s tray, and looking at the bulkhead to the control room as if he can see right through the door. “I relent. I’ll start waking them up in groups of 147, and asking them what they would like to do. But I warn you, I’ll strongly advocate for them to stay on course. I’ll allow Niobe to be there, but she will not be allowed to speak unless the fraction of them who choose her ask to hear from her. If they do—if they exist, and they do, they’ll go off alone while the rest are returned to their pods to await their training periods. That is my offer.”

“Don’t tell me,” Tinaya says. “Tell her.”

Omega takes a sip of his tea before spitting it out. “Ugh. What did you put in that? Ginger?” He sets the cup back down on Eagan’s tray. Anyway, yes, I’ll tell her when she gets back out. You were right to place us on a break. I needed time to think.”

When Niobe does come back, they see that she’s been crying, but her body language doesn’t imply that she’s trying to protect herself from Aristotle. They seem to have worked out their differences. They return to the table, and start hashing out the details. The next phase of the project is planned to take over a year. Every three days, 147 more clones will be awakened from their gestational pods. The situation will be explained to them, as will their options. Niobe will be present for each of these meetings, along with Tinaya, who will be there to make sure that everything remains fair and honest. They’re not sure how many of them will take them up on the offer, so they will have to figure out how to adapt as those numbers start to become apparent. All those who choose to go to war will go back to their stasis pods until such time as they are revived again to train for their respective responsibilities. The real question is if any of them on either side will later change their minds, and what they’ll do about that.

In the meantime, Aristotle is not allowed to set foot on Jaunemus anymore. He’s allowed to continue to practice his time power, but he’s not to have anything to do with the war. When the time comes, he can transport the moon to the Goldilocks Corridor, but must then leave the theatre of war right away. Niobe will have been in stasis during that time as well so they don’t lose time together. On the same day that the last group of 147 are awakened, Aristotle sends a message that he’s ready to begin his final test yet. He wants to send everyone else back to the Extremus.

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 8, 2460

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor

It wasn’t until the next year that Angela came back. She appeared right in Mateo and Mateo’s cell, because there wasn’t any sort of teleportation suppressing technology. She removed her helmet and yawned, then sat down on the bench between them, but she didn’t say anything.

“Did you find it, the timonite?” Future!Mateo asked her finally.

“Nope. That’s why it took me so long. It’s not there. I looked through that rock and dust over and over again, and I’m telling you, it doesn’t exist. I felt like an unlucky contestant on The Amazing Race.”

“You’ve seen that show?” Past!Mateo asked.

“We had TV in the afterlife,” she answered. “We had it before you did.”

“How the hell did you get in here?” Underkeeper was just walking back in, having heard their conversation.

“Uh, I teleported?” Angela said, like it was obvious.

“We didn’t know that you could do that,” Underkeeper began. “Can you two do it as well?”

“Yeah,” Future!Mateo answered.

“So you could have escaped at any time?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call that an escape. It’s more that we could have left,” Past!Mateo reasoned.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Well, we can’t teleport to the stars,” Future!Mateo explained. “Where would we have gone? These cots are comfortable enough.” He gestured towards them.

Underkeeper persistently rubbed her knuckle against her cheek. “Oh.”

“She did call this a moon, though,” Past!Mateo reminded them all. “There must be a planet around here. Is it breathable?”

“It is,” Underkeeper admitted. “It once orbited the same host star as Violkomin, which is located at the aperture to the kasma. Hogarth has since moved us all to the other side of the universe. We’re as remote as you can get.”

“Wait.” Angela stands up too, even though she’s tired. “If this whole system is distant from others, why do you have to live on the moon? Why can’t you live on the planet instead?”

“This is where we were,” Underkeeper said. “Hogarth didn’t tell us that we couldn’t travel to the planet, but we do not have the resources to make the journey. This moon is composed almost exclusively of silicates. We have found very few metals here. This structure existed before we arrived. That’s not even the biggest issue, though. There’s no fuel. It is almost completely devoid of hydrogen, so we can’t build a fusion reactor. We have been subsisting on the same limited amount of water this entire time, recycling it over and over again. Trying to separate the elements through electrolysis could be a fatal waste, so we’ve not bothered to try.”

“Well, if you have suits, we can teleport you to the planet,” Past!Mateo offers.

“Matt,” Angela scolds.

“What? We’re not gonna help them?” Past!Mateo asked dismissively. “You can see how inhumane this is.”

“Would you really do this?” Underkeeper asked, hope in her eyes.

“Three steps. Get us our suits and PRUs,” Future!Mateo instructed. “Help us synthesize a helmet for my alternate self here. Put yourselves in suits. We’ll jump you all to the planet.”

“How many are there of you?” Angela asked.

“Five Maramon, including one child,” Underkeeper replied. “Four hybrids.”

“Nine total,” Future!Mateo added. “We each can usually only take two at a time. However, you are, umm...” He trailed off uncomfortably.

“Heavy?” Underkeeper guessed. “I am aware of teleportation mass limits. The hybrids are light, as is my nephew; it should even out rather nicely. Two trips wouldn’t be a problem for us, but perhaps for you.”

“With our respective suits, plus any belongings you would like to take with you, it could add up to more than two,” Angela calculated.

“But that shouldn’t be a problem,” Past!Mateo clarified. “To the planet and back again is, what, sixty jumps? Each round trip will maybe take a few minutes.”

Underkeeper went back to her people to discuss the offer, but it was taking too long, so the three humans just teleported out of their cell, found their suits, and started their preparations. Whether they had company or not, they would be leaving today. Past!Mateo kept the helmet since they were not equipped to synthesize a copy. Future!Mateo would be able to handle the vacuum for the minute or so long journey down to the planet. One of the hybrids caught them while they were here. Kalmana, right?” Future!Mateo asked.

“Balbira,” she corrected.

“Didya hear? It’s moving day.”

“This world,” Balbira began. “This is all the other hybrids and I have ever known. Lusia will be excited. Aclima will be indifferent. Kalmana will be suspicious. But they will all...be afraid. You have to understand that we were not created because the engineer was bored. He made us for a purpose. He knew that we would escape one day. Mother has been trying to raise us to subvert his expectations, but some of us have done better with this mandate than others. I, for one, lean more towards his wishes than hers. Lusia is obviously on the opposite end of the spectrum. The three of them have been fighting their true natures. It has not been healthy. If you take us down to that planet, we will finally have access to the resources that the Maramon have been yearning for so our purpose can be fulfilled.”

“I hardly think that Hogarth would let that happen,” Past!Mateo determined. “She left you here for a reason, because it was safe. She would have locked you up, or exiled you entirely, if she believed that you posed any threat.”

Balbira shook her head. “She is not a god, despite what you may assume since she built this universe. What I’m trying to tell you is that you cannot help us. If you do, I will come after you, and you will regret it. I will manage to convince the other new hybrids to fall in line. That’s my strength, which I have been resisting for years.”

“That’s your purpose,” Angela asked, “to attack us?”

“Or to attack all humans,” Past!Mateo figured.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Balbira replied. “The old hybrids had their own specific tasks, which nearly all of them ultimately turned their backs on. There are subroutines in our brains to prevent that from happening again. There will be no stopping us. Hogarth left us here out of mercy, but she doesn’t understand the risk. I’m hoping that you don’t suffer from the same delusion.”

Future!Mateo sighed, and stepped towards Balbira. “Not helping you despite our ability to do so will only serve to ensure that you become our enemies. I, for one, would rather do the right thing today, and hope for the best tomorrow.”

“Sometimes you have to ignore the consequences,” Angela supported, “even when you know what they are. What you end up doing to us may be bad, but we have to worry about what our own actions do to our souls. Death is better than becoming monsters.”

Balbira absorbed the decision. “Very well.” She switched gears with her demeanor. “Each one of us has personal belongings, and you have the suits. We’ll go one at a time, assuming they accept your offer, which they would be fools not to.” She left briskly.

The group unanimously agreed to the plan. They were leaving a lot behind on this world, but were taking enough with them to rebuild. All of the Maramon and all of the hybrids, were capable of surviving the vacuum of space for a brief period of time, but the child and the hybrids were at most risk, and they had suits, so they might as well use them. The three teleporters took them one at a time, as Balbira predicted. After Past!Mateo and Angela both left with the last of their charges, only one Maramon remained, who Future!Mateo was assigned. They were waiting for Angela to return with the shared helmet to make it easier on Future!Mateo. But there would be a delay regardless. “Then you must all three return, and take it together,” the Maramon genetic engineer suggested.

“Sir, you said this thing was over, like, 800 kilograms. That is well outside the mass limitation of all three of us combined. We cannot take it with us. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to start over with whatever this is when you get down to the planet. I assume you have the plans for it stored on a computing device?”

“That is out of the question,” the Maramon argued. This is an extremely complex design, which requires a very particular environment, and very particular materials. Building it again will take too long.”

“I thought that you people were immortal.”

“Different universe, different rules. We’ll live for a long time, but not forever.”

“What is it? What is so important?” Future!Mateo questioned.

The Maramon shut his trap defiantly.

Future!Mateo looked over it. “This looks like a personal pod...except it’s gigantic. There’s a lot more than is necessary. So either you don’t know how to miniaturize all the things that humans have been able to do, or it does more than the average pod does? Am I getting warmer?”

The Maramon crossed his arms, and refused to say more.

Why would he not just say what it was? Because it was something that Mateo would not approve of. He looked down over his shoulder, kind of in the direction of their destination planet. Then he looked back at the giant pod, and back again. “The hybrids. This is how you built them. It’s also a gestation pod, but one with a unique design to fit your needs. Yes, I can see why you would not want to part with that.”

“You can leave me here. I no longer require your help. Thank you very much.” The man would rather be stranded on an airless moon alone than give up his life’s work, and live with the only family he could hope to keep.

“All right.” Future!Mateo said, clapping his hands with finality. “I can see that you have become an unwilling participant.” He took the genetic engineer by the shoulders.” Here we go!” Despite protests, Future!Mateo teleported them both away.

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 7, 2459

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor

Mateo and Angela suddenly appeared in the Third Rail version of Russia on August 16, 2398, standing next to a younger version of Mateo. He wouldn’t recognize his future self, even if he managed to look behind him in time. They were both in full IMS, their faces obscured by their helmet visors. He had just activated a big teleportation machine, hoping to transport him and a piece of timonite to Lebanon, Kansas without having to actually look for the mineral first. He needed this to save their friend, Trina McIver from being lost in time. The plan didn’t really work, though they did end up finding her anyway. The machine reached critical mass a second later, and took them away, along with two Russian soldiers who were trying to stop Past!Mateo. But they didn’t end up in Lebanon, and this fact was apparent immediately upon their arrival. The ground around them was gray, the sky was black, and the air didn’t exist. They were on a moon, or an asteroid, or something. A pinch of atmosphere managed to come with them to this place, but it did not last. The three men not wearing any special suits quickly begin to die. Future!Mateo couldn’t save them all, but he could save one.

Spacesuits in the past were traditionally slow and difficult to assemble. For many years, it was actually impossible for a wearer to accomplish the feat on their own. For emergencies, it was vital for an Integrated Multipurpose Suit to be designed to be put on quickly, without any snags, and without any help. For the most part, when the armor module was needed, the two inner modules were also needed. But it was technically possible for the armor module to function on its own when there was no other option. It was also the easiest to remove, and the fastest. Future!Mateo swiftly disconnected it, and opened it like a lid. He stepped out, and pushed his past self into it, letting it close up automatically. He then gave him the helmet for a complete seal. Past!Mateo could still be dying, though, because he had been exposed to the vacuum of outer space for too long, so Future!Mateo tapped on the arm interface to release a cocktail of exposure treatment drugs. This solved one problem, but created another, because of course, Future!Mateo was now the one at risk of dying. He could survive out here for a little bit, but not indefinitely. They needed to find shelter.

As Future!Mateo was looking around for somewhere to survive, Past!Mateo and Angela appeared to be talking to one other via radio. He had no idea what they were saying, though, so he just kept searching the horizon. Angela started to tap on her own arm interface. She pointed in one direction. Past!Mateo nodded. The both of them walked over to Future!Mateo, and took him by the arms. They teleported away, into a pressurized environment. Future!Mateo blinked, trying to recover. He would eventually, but he wouldn’t say no to his own shot of the treatment drugs. Angela knew this, so she removed her gauntlet, and placed it on his hand to administer the dermal flash. His health began to return to him, and he was able to speak. But before he could, Past!Mateo had something to say. “Did you think that you could survive better out there than I could?” he asked accusatorily.

“Indeed,” Future!Mateo responded. “My body has been upgraded again.”

Past!Mateo looked over at Angela, who nodded back, confirming that to be the truth. “Well...thank you, then. I appreciate your support. Now...report.”

Future!Mateo took a deep breath. “You need to return my suit, so I can go back out there, and hunt for the timonite in all that rubble.”

“No, I can look for it,” Past!Mateo insisted. “It’s my mission.”

“It’s mine too,” Future!Mateo explained.

“So we fail in the first timeline?” Past!Mateo guessed.

“Well, no. I’m closing my loop. I always wondered how we succeeded, though. Your memory will be erased before you go back with it.”

“You must not have had all of your memories erased, because you’re wearing these suits,” Past!Mateo reasoned. “You knew that we would end up here.”

“No, we just kind of wear them all the time now.”

“We would have brought an extra one if we had known that you would need it as well,” Angela clarified. “Buddy breathing doesn’t work in space.” She turned to Future!Mateo. “I’ll go look for the timonite. You stay here with your self to find out what this place is, where we are, and how to get back home.”

“Homes,” Past!Mateo corrected. “You two and I aren’t going to the same place.”

“No, we’re not.” Angela dropped her visor, and disappeared.

“Where are the others?” Past!Mateo questioned his future self.

“They’re fine. They have their own concerns to worry about. There’s no need to give you any details, but we move past this story arc, and into new ones. The parallel realities are just the beginning of our troubles. The way I see it, your life has barely started.”

“I see.” Past!Mateo examined the architecture of this airlock, as if he were knowledgeable enough to glean any information from it. He started walking towards the interior hatch, which was fully open. Lights turned on in reaction to his presence, though there appeared to be no people here. This facility, whatever it was, may have been abandoned. Or they were just out to lunch. He stopped while he was still on the threshold. “Have you noticed, the doorways are pretty high, as are the ceilings? This was made for tall people.”

“Or they just like extra space,” Future!Mateo countered.

“I dunno. This doesn’t feel quite human to me.”

“No, you’re right about that.”

“Yes, you are,” came another voice. A being was walking down the corridor, and she was definitely not human. She was a Maramon. She wasn’t, however, alone. Four human women were walking with her. “Aclima, Balbira, tie them up.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Future!Mateo said, like she was just offering him a second glass of water at a restaurant.

The Maramon looked like she was smirking, but it was hard to tell with her anatomy. “Kalmana,” she said simply.

One of the humans quickdrew a gun, and stunned them in the face. The suits could dissipate—and even channel—most energy blasts, but they couldn’t protect exposed areas. Still, they resisted the surge, and tried to stay awake. She had to fire once more. The lights went out.

The two Mateos woke up in a cell at around the same time. One of the women was sitting guard on the other side of the bars. She seemed nice, but honestly, so did the others. Hopefully they weren’t slaves to the Maramon. Mateo didn’t know enough about their culture to have any clue why they might be working together. “Hi. I’m Lusia.” She wasn’t bubbly, but professionally courteous.

“Hi, Lusia. This is Mateo. I’m Mateo.”

“I know.”

“Can I ask, why are you working with them?” Past!Mateo questioned.

“She is of my people,” she answered plainly.

“Is she? Do they treat you well?”

Lusia smiled. “We are hybrids. Half-human, half-Mar, but loyal to the latter.”

“To what end?” Future!Mateo asked. He had encountered her kind before, on a few occasions. He had gotten the feeling that those others were the only ones, so this was a new development.

“Our purpose has not yet been revealed to us. We are still training. Mother will explain all when we are ready to hear it. Until then, I’m here to watch you.”

“She’s not your mother, she’s just your creator,” Past!Mateo tried to argue.

“What’s the difference?”

“Lusia!” the Maramon’s voice shouted from another room. “Do not speak to them! Remain silent and steadfast!”

“Oh, no thank you!” Lusia yelled back. Now she was really smiling.

“Lusia!” the Maramon complained, holding the final vowel for several seconds.

“The young do not always do what they are told,” Lusia said to the Mateos. “She really is our mother, and not actually our creator. That was someone else. She’s the one who raised us, and cares for us. We do not call the man who engineered us our father. I just want to show you that I can defy her orders, and not be abused, or anything. I can’t imagine what horrors you imagine we experience in this world. But we’re doing okay.”

Future!Mateo stood up from his bunk, and approached the bars. He leaned back a few centimeters when he noticed her trying to hide her mild fear of him. “I do not have a problem with the Maramon. It seems only that they have a problem with us.”

Lusia widened her eyes to process the information. Then she shut them and nodded slightly.

“So we are in Ansutah,” Past!Mateo assumed.

“No,” Lusia replied, shaking her head. “This is Fort Underhill. June 7, 2459.”

“Really?” Future!Mateo asked, very surprised. “How did we wind up here?”

“No idea,” Lusia said. “Ukodenva ‘Underkeeper’ Unedisalk came here accidentally as well, with the rest of her cadet squad. Our genetic engineer was the son of the man who made the other hybrids. Yes, I noticed your sense of familiarity when I said that. I guess he wanted to follow in daddy’s footsteps.”

“Is Hogarth aware that you are here?”

“She found herself the unwilling commanding officer of the cadets, due to some odd laws that they were clinging onto from the Crossover,” Lusia began to explain. “Things reportedly went well for a time, but they fell apart eventually, and became hostile. A truce was later formed, which basically lets us do whatever we want, as long as we do not leave this moon. Hogarth could not stop us from being created.”

“Are there more than the four of you? Does he intend to make more?” Past!Mateo was more curious than he ought to be.

“Hopefully not.”

“What will become of us?” Future!Mateo asked her.

Underkeeper walked into the hock section. “That has yet to be decided. I’m advocating for you to keep your hands firmly attached to your necks, but I’ll be honest, your prospects are not looking good. The others are not as fond of humans as I am.” She looked upon Lusia lovingly. Perhaps she really was her mother.

« < » > Table of Contents