Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts

Saturday, December 6, 2025

Extremus: Year 117

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

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.

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

Microstory 2507: Pain Feeler

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I can feel your pain, and kindle your ecstasy. Isn’t that such an interesting way to put it? You know, these gifts we had; they didn’t come with instruction manuals. We had to figure out how they worked, and develop ways to explain them. Other people’s gifts might be a little vague and profound, but mine was simple. If you were in physical and/or emotional pain, I could feel that. Fortunately, I could choose not to feel it. Not everyone on the team could exercise so much control, and switch it off when they didn’t want it. I don’t know if I could have lived with myself if I couldn’t so I’m grateful for that, and I’m sure Landis is too. Basically, what I did was make people feel better. It was only a temporary solution, and a very complicated and delicate process to navigate. Sure, I could have run around the world alone, essentially as a walking-talking recreational drug, but that’s not going to help anyone in the long-term. And honestly, if they wanted to feel better in the way that I could help them, they could just do it themselves. What I did was only one step of the program. When it was the right time, I eased their suffering, so they could think clearly, and figure out how they were going to improve their lives. It wouldn’t work if I did it too early, because then they would have kind of forgotten what was so upsetting to them in the first place. They would basically treat my gift as the only useful solution, and not worry about what would happen when it wore off. I couldn’t do it too late either, or they would get frustrated that they did all this work, and I could have just solved their problems right away. I had to find a balance, which was the hardest part of the job. These days, I’m pretty happy. I loved what I used to do, and I think about it sometimes, but it’s kind of nice to just have a regular job, and live a regular life. Things were so complex, and I was always having to think about how I was going to kindle someone’s ecstasy. Now I move boxes from a truck to a shelf, or a shelf to a truck. There’s an answer for everything, and you know when you’ve done it wrong. And the burden of responsibility was a weight on my shoulders that I didn’t know I was carrying until it was gone. Basically, all I’m trying to say is that I’m glad that it happened, and I’m happy with what I have now. I don’t think I could say the same if my life were just one or the other. Landis is going to cure everyone one day, and while it won’t necessarily alleviate pain, I know that it will help, and it’s more than I could have ever done on my own.

Monday, September 29, 2025

Microstory 2506: Desire Hearer

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I can hear your desires, and sing your fears. I am not like the others. Their passive gifts are all negative, while their active gifts are positive. I can’t tell you why I’m the opposite, but truthfully, it has always made me feel a little left out of the group. To be clear, they never made me feel like that; it was just the nature of my condition. It’s kind of hard to explain what I could do. Landis might have better wording, though I think he actively ignores this side of him. It’s not that I could hear your thoughts. It’s not even that I could see the images in your mind. It’s more like I could hear the music of your soul, if that makes any sense. When I would listen to people’s aura—for lack of a better term—I could hear where it was pointing, be it another person, or an object, or even the future. The tone of their aura music was key to understanding and interpreting their desires. I would say that mine was the toughest job, because they had to be open with me to clarify exactly what they wanted out of their life. It was just so...abstract and intangible a lot of the time. Sure, if they were staring at the person they were secretly in love with, their desire song for them would be obvious. And to be fair, anyone who is just naturally good at reading others could probably see it all over their face without any special gift. The key was getting them to come out of their shells, and be honest about what they wanted. It felt like cheating, just straight up asking them to vocalize their feelings. No one else in the group had to do that. They were just able to sense what they were meant to sense. That’s kind of why I had to step up as the leader; not because I was particularly suited for it, but because I had to drive the progress for us to get anywhere with people. The client’s own goals were paramount in helping them. It didn’t matter how they felt, or whether they were lying. If they didn’t have an objective, what were we gonna do for them? How were their lives gonna turn out? I didn’t always have to use my active Vulnerability gift, but there were many times when it was necessary. They sometimes even asked for it. To get what they wanted, and get past what was holding them back, it was necessary for them to face their fears. It was easier for them to do that if they were confronted with them directly using the fear songs, rather than having to conjure them up in their own mindbrains. It usually went all right. The client and I were both always in control, and I could clear the sounds if they became too much to bear. Obviously, it went wrong one terrible time, and that’s why we’re here, but I can’t help but think that all of that happened for a reason, because now we have Landis. I do miss having the gifts, but I’m glad that someone else has them, even if he never uses them. At least they’re not gone forever. And the sweet song of life on Earth continues.

Friday, September 26, 2025

Microstory 2505: Health Smeller

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I can smell your health, and heal your ailments. I was Landis Tipton before Landis Tipton was Landis Tipton. While we gifted him with all of the Vulnerabilities, mine is the one that he uses primarily, if not exclusively. I want to make it clear that I did not waste my gift when I had it. I too healed people. It was at a smaller scale, but you have to understand that none of us believed that we could announce ourselves to the world. Before Landis was brave enough to stand in the spotlight, it felt too dangerous to be open to the public. We decided that we had to be very selective with our clients. Of course, that didn’t always work out, but we did our best. I think we helped a lot of people. Everyone we chose was entitled to a healing, but it was sort of usually considered secondary to the other—more abstract—therapies. People get sick; it’s a way of life, and I didn’t think that there was anything I could do about it. It didn’t even occur to us that my gift of healing could one day be synthesized into a mass-produced cure-all. What people really needed was to feel better about themselves, and realize their dreams, even if that meant shifting those dreams to things that were a little more realistic and attainable. I’m not saying that I was a pointless member of the team, but we did see our responsibility as being more holistic. On the contrary, my job was very important, and should not be discounted. You see, healing begins from within, but physical pain and suffering is real, and it can make it impossible to feel like your life can get better, even if you’ve not been stricken with some serious disease. Everyone has something. They have joint pain, or frequent headaches, or circulation issues. I could fix all of that. Maybe not permanently, but those first few days after the clients met us were incredibly vital. It was at least one less thing that they were worried about while they were trying to move on, and improve their situations. It gave them a new baseline by which they could judge the things that happened to them in the future, both good and not-so-great. Healthy body, healthy mind, as they say. I have heard people ask Landis what people’s health smells like, but I have never heard his answer. That’s probably because he’s so busy saving the world. That’s not me being resentful, but it does lead well into the answer to their question. When something is particularly wrong with someone, their health typically smells sickly sweet, like spoiled fruit. The disease is rotting away in their body, creating a build-up of waste, and generating a toxic smell that anyone would perceive as being wrong, if their noses were designed to detect the right signals. Poor general health, on the other hand, is bitter, with metallic overtones, and I could sometimes cure that too, but generally not. So if you ever meet Landis in person, and he’s a little shy or standoffish, I can’t speak for him, but that might be why. People just kind of smell bad all the time, even when they’ve been cured. It’s unsettling, but it’s part of the job, and I for one think that Landis faces it valiantly.

Thursday, September 25, 2025

Microstory 2504: Regret Seer

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I can see your regrets, and show you your potential. Before Landis Tipton received the gifts of The Ten Vulnerabilities, I was responsible for two of them. There were five of us in total, and we chose to use our abilities very differently. We were nomads, traveling all over the world—mostly the North American continent—helping people one at a time. We searched for those who were at their lowest, who needed the most help. I was on the frontlines of this mission. Regret is one of the strongest emotions that a person can have, and sight is one of the strongest senses. It was easier for me to pick our targets out of a crowd without having to wait for them to do something to draw attention to themselves. I could just see it. Once I found a candidate, the five of us would explore this person’s life further. We could strategize about what we could do to help this person live a better life. The way we saw it, our tasks were helping the whole world exponentially. Everyone we supported would go out, and pay it forward. With a brand new lease on life, they would find it in their hearts to help others in their own ways. Honestly, we didn’t think to focus on only one of the Vulnerabilities, like Landis has. We were drawn to one another, and it felt like we absolutely had to work together in order to fulfill our destinies. Had we only let the Health Smeller do her thing, what work would have been left for the rest of us? We just had a different perspective. And fittingly enough, I regret nothing. And you know that’s true, because if I did, I would be able to tell, and I’m comfortable enough with my own vulnerabilities that I would be honest about it. I can’t bring my own regrets to the surface, but I’m very good at recognizing them. We did our own thing our own way, and I still think we improved the world. We didn’t always hit it out of the park. There is a reason why we don’t have the gifts anymore, and why we had to transfer them to Landis. But I don’t like to talk about it, because that is something that I regret. Maybe I’m not as brave as I believe. I should be able to talk about what happened. Unfortunately, while I helped countless others see their potential, I could never see my own. But again, the gifts belong to Landis now, and while it saddens me a little that my Vulnerability senses aren’t being used, I’m proud of the work that he’s been doing. That’s why I chose him in the first place. I didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but I knew that he was on his way to reaching greatness.